Love Will (56 page)

I smile at her. “And I want you to promise me you will always hear me out in the future.”

“I promise you, with every cell in my body, that I will always hear you out. I promise that I won’t walk out on you. That I won’t leave you behind like I don’t care, because all I did from the second I drove away until the moment I saw you again was worry about what would become of you. I kept wondering if I would be the only woman who’d ever get to know this amazing man–this boyfriend, this generous lover–because you’d go back to being that hurt little boy who would never trust another girl. I couldn’t be the woman who returned you to that state.

“I want you to have a happy life, Will. I want that so badly for you. I promise I won’t hurt you. It won’t be me. I won’t let it be me.”

She’s crying again, and if I’m honest, she’s taking me with her. I kiss her. This time it’s
not
controlled. It’s
not
sweet. It’s
not
safe, and it hurts like hell because I’m putting my whole self into it and I’m giving her all the oxygen my body so desperately needs, but I don’t care. “Don’t love me because you pity me,” I tell her between breaths, but return to her quickly, scared to hear her response because the more I give her, the more I need her.

She tries to push me away to respond, but I hold her close. It’s not until she says the word–“No”–that I let her go.

“No, Will. I love you simply because I know you. And
anyone
lucky enough to get close to you would love you.
Anyone
. There is not one unlovable thing about you.”

“I can think of many.”

“If you’re counting the women of your past, they are not
you
. Stop dwelling on the mistakes you’ve made and look at who you are.” She moves one leg over both of mine and puts one of her hands on each of my cheeks, angling my face to look at her directly. “You’re a logical man,” she whispers. “You’ve fought through adversity to be one of the world’s youngest and most well-known astrophysicists… people are begging you to get your PhD so you can continue on in their programs. You’re the best guitarist in the country–don’t argue with me, I found an article online that said so–and you taught yourself how to play. You’re brilliant… so that’s, what, best of the best in the arts and sciences? All done with a father figure who was four years older than you and a mother who wasn’t there for you when you needed her. And then a few years later, you’re touring the country, this drop-dead gorgeous man with humility and social skills that don’t normally accompany the science-nerd-crowd, and you
literally
charm the pants off some chick in Minneapolis who’s just trying to live a normal life. And you manage to reach within the depths of your soul and tap into love–”

“I will not take credit for that one. Not full credit. As a logical man, I’m giving chemistry credit for that… there’s some concoction you and I put together that made…
love
.”

A wide grin spreads across her face. “Was it during our thermal contact conductance experiment?”

“Well, that would be physics…”

“It was the first night we made love.” She leans in and presses her lips to mine, her breasts to my chest. She glances up, looking pleased with herself.

“It most certainly was,” I tell her, remembering that moment well. “Make love to me, Shea,” I tell her seriously, pulling the long-sleeved knit shirt she’d been wearing over her messy hair. “Gently.” I kiss her again as she unbuttons my jeans and I unfasten her bra. I run my hands down the side of her body, watching tiny bumps blossom across her skin in excitement. I admire the contrast of our skin tones as I cup her breasts in the palms of my hands.

“Slowly,” I continue my request to her softly. She sits up and helps me remove my jeans. While she’s up, she takes off the soft leggings she’d been wearing, revealing a pair of black panties with two pink bows in the front. She sits back down, strategically wriggling her body against mine. I put my hands on her hips and guide them steadily toward me as I press against her. “Your undies are cute.”

“Thanks,” she says. She takes one of my hands and places it on the front of them. “Feel them.”

I run my thumb over the bows, quickly realizing there are gaps in between the fabric. “Never mind. These aren’t cute at all. You’re wearing fuck-me-panties, aren’t you?”

“I prefer to call them ‘make-love-to-me-panties,’ thank you very much.”

“These are great for wall sex.”

“That’s what I was thinking when I bought them,” she admits. “In my mind, that was what we were going to be doing tonight…”

“Unless you can hold me… um… no,” I joke with her.

“I think these work just fine like this, too.”

“I guess we can find out, if you want. It seems a little impractical, but however you want to do it, I’m really in no position to argue. But they are incredibly sexy.”

“Thank you.”

“While my boxers have a similar opening, I’d prefer to not wear them…” I hint to her.

“Of course!” she says, getting up one last time to slide them off my body. On her hands and knees, she kisses me, letting me grope her nude backside freely. With the angle of my body, when she leans back, she’s straddling my hips and I can distinctly feel how turned on she is on the skin just beneath my bellybutton. I hate being so immobile, because there’s nothing I want more than to taste her on my lips right now. She scoots back just a little, my erection leaning against her ass. She reaches behind her and begins pressing it against her body as she subtly begins to rock her hips.

“Fuck that, Shea… that image…
fuck
…” I sigh. She doesn’t stop, though. I start pulling my hair with one hand in frustration and I reach my other in between her legs, getting a rise out of her, too. Just as she starts to breathe faster, she kneels up and takes both of my hands in hers, pushing them against the pillow next to my head. She presses her lips to mine, our tongues entangled, the kiss deep and intense. She gasps momentarily, pulling away and looking me in the eyes as I feel the warmth of her envelop me fully. We both sigh at the same time, our bodies fused and rocking slowly together.

“Are you okay?” she asks me.

“Just… limited movement, but I’m sooo great right now.”

“Good.”

“Let me have my hands back, though. Then I can control things if it starts to get out of hand.” She smiles and releases me, moving her grip to the headboard as I hold on to her hips and guide her slowly.

“Is that okay?”

I look up at her, glance down at her breasts that entice me, right in front of me, and back up into her eyes.

“Yeah, this is
just
okay.” She pulls her left hand away and puts it on the back of my neck, moving in closer so I can tease her hardened nipple with my tongue. I run my hands down her thighs to her knees and subtly urge her to spread her legs a little more. The moment she does, she cries out loudly. My hands now on her ass, I press her body into mine, forcing myself even deeper with every methodically slow thrust.

Her hand wraps around to my chin and brings my lips to hers. She lets go of the headboard and releases the weight of her body onto the left side of mine, wrapping her right arm around my back. She’s very aware of her motions on her left side. It’s an awkward balance, but I help her by wrapping my left arm around her back, keeping my right hand on her back side. I can’t put as much muscle into it, but she seems to be in full control now that we’ve found our rhythm, and I feel the vibrations of her groans through her lips.

Her hips start to swivel, and our speed increases. I’m deep inside her, and as she moves around me, sensations spark at every last nerve ending. Releasing her, I slide my hands to the backs of her thighs and start thrusting harder. With the added pleasure comes some intense pain from my ribs, but it feels too good now to stop.

Shea stretches back, putting her hands behind her on her feet. The new position does something good for her–I can see it on her face and hear it in the elevated pitch of her cries.

Moving my hands back to her hips, I try to guide our movements perfectly.

“Oh, Shea!”

“Oh, Will!”

“Oh, Shea!”

“Oh, Will!”

“Faster!”

“Harder!”

“Fuck!”

“More!”

“Fuck!”

“More!”

“Oh!”

“Oh!”

“I love you!”

“I love you!”

Her hands back on the headboard, I put both my arms around her, holding onto her as tightly as I can for the final thrusts. After the last one, she kisses my forehead, then lets her muscles slacken as all the tension leaves her body. Even though it hurts like hell, I let her rest against me because she’s warm and I’m overwhelmed with chills again… and because I love her, and twenty-four hours ago, I never thought I’d get to do this with her again.

I run my hands up and down her back, breathing through the pain.

“I want to kiss you,” she mumbles.

“Okay,” I laugh. “I can’t really move with you… like this…”

“Oh, my God!” She scrambles off of me, causing me to wince. “I am so sorry!”

“Shea,” I say, grabbing her hand and pulling her back to me. “I’m fine.”

“No… how can I lay with you… for you to be comfortable?”

“Well, can you bring me some water and that bottle of pills?” I ask her, pointing to the ibuprofen across the room. While she goes to retrieve it, I try to move to rearrange the pillows, but I can barely shift the weight of my body at all. “Fuck, it hurts.”

“We shouldn’t have done that, huh?”

“The fuck we shouldn’t have,” I argue. “Take some of these pillows out from under me so I can lie down.” I swallow the pills quickly as we even out the cushions, and I gingerly slide down the bed to a horizontal position. Turning onto my left side, I summon her. “Now lie down with me.”

“Do you have doctor’s orders?” she asks, crawling into bed, covering both of us with the blankets, and then mirroring my position.

“Yes.”

“And what are they?”

“No physical activity for a week.”

She looks for a safe place to hit me, then sits up and smacks me on the leg with the palm of her hand. “You could have told me that before!”

“Oh, believe me, that was worth every second of pain, Shea,” I tell her with the biggest smile I can muster. “I thought you wanted to kiss me.”

“I do.”

“I’m waiting.”

She leans in and kisses me softly. “I love you, Will.”

“I love you, too, Shea.” I hold her hand in mine, settling them in front of our faces.

“We should have immobilized sex more often.”

“Did you like that?” I ask her.

“I’d say it was good for me… not that it’s ever been bad for me, but that was–you know what, I’ve just missed you.”

“It’s been hell, being without you. It was hell before; it was even worse this week.”

“I know,” she whispers, her eyelids heavy. “You probably haven’t been sleeping well.”

“You know me. Par for the course.”

“I’m sorry.”

I clear my throat and take a swig of the water I kept with me, then speak softly, but clearly, watching her as she starts to drift off.

Another restive night

Like an eight-hour cyclone

This solitary plight

A phase I’ve not outgrown

“What is that?” she asks.

A carousel of notions

I’m powered by the sun

But just go through the motions

And then at dusk, I’m done

She’s listening intently now, her elbow bent and her head resting on her hand. I tenderly reach toward her to push a few strands of hair out of her eye.

A man like any other, who likes a woman’s touch,

Sex is my barbiturate; it’s always been my crutch.

It’s never really done what I’ve expected it to do

I’ve never actually slept a night until I slept with you.

Blizzard in the north

A cold, November stroll

I knew from that day forth

I was sheltered by your soul