Chapter 12
KACE. The difference between wanting someone to love you and actually being loved is the difference between black and white. I suppose I could have lived the rest of my life thinking I was being loved; but now that I actually had it, I knew what I had in the past was nothing more than some fucked up form of affection.
Shane and I had been seeing each other for six weeks. In some respects, I felt like I had forced myself into his life. In others, I felt I was invited. After the incident with Josh, I moved in with Shane; in his spare bedroom. It pleased him to look over me and feel like he was protecting me from anything or anyone who might hurt me.
When I thought of the month or so Shane and I spent together before I left Josh, and the six weeks which had followed, it seemed to me like two years of time had passed. I knew more about Shane in this period of time than I ever knew about Josh. Shane was quiet to everyone except Ripp and me. To me, he could talk for hours on end. I liked it when Shane talked to me, it stood as proof he cared about what I thought, wanted, or expected in life.
Shane had not told me that he loved me, but I knew in some sense he did. I could feel it. He wasn’t broken inside like a lot of people are who do not have family, he was just shy. And although he was shy, he was still able to love and be loved. More than anything, I wanted Shane to love me. I wanted to be his, and I wanted him to be mine.
“I couldn’t decide if I liked the five miles better than three or not,” he said as he collapsed on the couch.
I walked over and sat at the edge of the couch beside him.
“Well, you ought to know by now, we’ve been running the five for a month and a half,” I said as I pressed my hands into his shirt.
“Well, there are things about it I like, and things I don’t. I like the amount of time it takes, but I don’t like the speed we run. I’m used to running faster,” he said as he sat up.
“Everything you do is a competition. In your head, you compete with yourself,” I said as I slipped my hands under his shirt and felt his stomach muscles.
“I suppose so. I’m just used to running a mile in a little less than six minutes. We don’t run that fast. You run like a girl,” he chuckled.
“You can’t run five as fast as you run three, and I am a girl,” I laughed as I pushed him backward onto the couch.
As he fell, he pulled me with him. I landed face first on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me. I pressed my face into his massive chest, smelling his shirt as I buried my nose in between the muscles of his chest.
“I love how you smell when you get out of the shower,” I said as I raised my face from his chest.
“Who’s the most beautiful woman in the world?” he whispered.
I smiled.
“Who?” he whispered as a smile formed on his face.
I love it when he does this.
I pointed to my chest.
“That’s right,” he responded.
His hands massaged my back as I looked into his eyes. His eyes were the strangest color of grey. They were almost a translucent grey/blue. His eyes alone caused me to feel as if I was powerless against him. Combining his personality, sensitive nature, shy quiet demeanor, and the fact that he was muscle from head to toe was enough to push me over the edge.
Every time.
He could take advantage of me at any point in time he preferred; the fact he didn’t made me admire and hate him both. I pushed my hands against his chest and raised my body from his. I looked down at his torso and chest. His tight tank top hugged his muscled torso.
This is freaking ridiculous.
“Why don’t we ever go any further than this, Shane?” I asked as I admired his body.
He raised his hands to his face and covered his cheeks and eyes with his palms. As he rubbed his face, I grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands free and pressed them onto my shoulders. I wanted so desperately to place them on my chest, but I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
He squinted his eyes and cocked his head to the side, “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“We’ve talked about this. Please, take advantage of me. I’m begging you,” I laughed.
He smiled and rolled his eyes.
“It’s not taking advantage of me if I want you to do it,” I said as I held his wrists.
“It is if you’re not ready,” he responded as he squeezed my shoulders lightly.
“I’m ready,” I said.
“I don’t think so,” he tilted his head and responded.
“Why?”
“Because it hasn’t been that long. It’s been seven weeks. That’s it. A codependent woman will attach herself to the first man who presents himself after she gets out of a relationship. I don’t want to be your man out of a feeling of necessity. I want to be your man out of feelings of deep desire,” he said as he began to sit up.
I pushed against his chest, forcing him back to his laying position on the couch. I liked that he let me do silly things to him. As strong as he was, he could keep me from even making him move at all, but he played with me. He let me push him around and play with him. He knew just how to act and what to do to make me feel at ease, and he never made me feel out of place or uncomfortable.
“Lay down,” I said, pointing to his chest with my index finger.
“Yes ma’am,” he responded as he leaned back onto the couch cushions.
“We’re going to talk,” I said.
“Talk. Alright. Get busy,” he chuckled.
“Do you want to make me happy?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” he responded.
“Let’s make progress in this thing we have,” I said.
“This thing…” his voice faded as he raised his eyebrows.
“Yes. I don’t know what to call it. This thing. Let’s go one step further. I want that,” I smiled.
“One step,” he responded with a smirk on his face.
I nodded.
He slid his hands from my shoulders to behind my neck, and slowly pulled my face to his. As his lips parted, I pressed my face hard against his. Kissing Shane was something I could do forever. He once told me everything he did he was great at, and kissing was no exception.
I closed my eyes and held his head in my hands. With our tongues intertwined and our wet lips massaging each other, I got lost in the feeling. Thoughts of the men in my erotica novels ran through my head. I opened my eyes and raised my face from his.
“I want you,” I said, my voice filled with emotion.
“You have me,” he responded as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
“No, I want you,” I said.
“Kace, you have me - as much as I’m willing to give. I’m yours. You have all you can get. There is no more,” he said as he started to sit up.
Frustrated, I pushed myself toward the other end of the couch and sat between his legs.
“Don’t get angry, babe. Everything I do, I do for what I believe is best for you. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want anything to develop in this relationship because you’re vulnerable,” he said softly as he sat up.
He ran his fingers through my hair and moved it behind my ear.
“I like seeing your face, Kace. You’re beautiful. Sex can be a manner of expressing one’s love, but by no means is it a method of measuring the love one has for you,” he ran his fingers through my hair and smiled.
“Sex is all we have left, Kace. Don’t look at it as a form of verification or validity to confirm how I feel about you. The fact we’re here together is validity in itself,” he moved closer to me and kissed my forehead.
I wrapped my arms around him, feeling selfish as I did so. He was right. I didn’t need to have sex with him to prove anything. I wanted to have sex with him because I wanted to. I hadn’t had sex for almost four years, and I wanted Shane to fuck me until I couldn’t walk. The fact he held this one act in reserve proved to me he cared more about me than I could ever expect anyone else to.
“Okay. I understand better now. It’s just hard,” I admitted as I moved my head closer to his hand.
This man made it difficult for me to do anything but want more. To have someone who was built the way he was one thing in and of itself. His body clearly defied the laws of everything which was human and masculine. He had a small waist and abs that looked as if constructed of a flesh washboard. A massive chest twice as wide as his waist. His arms had muscles along the side of muscles. And he didn’t care. He didn’t flaunt it. He wore a hoodie in the summertime to cover his body, not exposing it for all to see.
He was intelligent. He didn’t speak in a manner I would have expected a boxer to speak. He often thought for some time before he committed to answering a question. When he did answer, be it immediate or after some thought, his answers were clear, concise and well defined.
He was kind, compassionate, considerate, romantic, loving, caring and loyal. For me this combination was proving to be far more than I could take. An alpha male who could destroy a man in a moment for any number of reasons contrary to what he held precious to his system of beliefs.
Yet.
He held a woman close to his chest and made her feel as if she was the most precious person on this earth, as if she had no reason to fear anything when she was in his presence.
Shane Dekkar. A man to define what all men should desire to become.
Perfection, defined.
Perfection is defined in the mind as it sees what stands before it. We compare what it is we now see to what we have seen in the past. This comparison is only based on what experiences we have, and what we have exposed ourselves to. I have had minimal exposure in life, but I am not a fool nor am I foolish. Shane Dekkar, to me, is perfect. I could spend a lifetime exposing myself to the offerings of life, and this would not change. It is not an opinion, it is a fact.
His fingers continued to rake through my hair.
“I’ll give you a lifetime to stop that,” I whispered as I closed my eyes.
“I’ll never stop,” he whispered.
“Promise,” I asked as I opened my eyes.
Softly, he pushed me onto my back, and crawled on top of me. His hands quickly moved into my hair, his fingers raking through it as the massaged my scalp. I closed my eyes again.
“Open your eyes, babe,” he whispered.
I opened my eyes.
“Do you understand how I feel about you?” he asked, his eyes filled with passion.
“Tell me,” I responded as I closed my eyes.
I relaxed as he massaged my scalp with his fingers. He lowered his chest to mine and softly laid his body against me. He positioned his head beside mine and began to whisper in my ear. His warm breath made me shiver as he began to speak.
“Kace, I could spend the rest of my life happy with you, I am certain. I have no reason to believe otherwise. And although I suspect you feel the same way, I do not believe you are able to make a decision regarding a relationship with anyone right now and it be one hundred percent heartfelt, considering what you have been through for the last ten years,” as he paused, I started to speak
“Shhhh,” he said into my ear.
“If you feel the way I suspect you feel, the end result will be the same regardless of when we make the decision to take the next step. It is very important to me that the decision be made by what your heart desires, and not what you think you want. Almost daily, I wish we would have met by different circumstances,” his breath on my neck made me smile a slow smile.
With my eyes still closed tightly, I whispered, “Why different?”
“Well, because. I imagine part, and only part of what you feel – you feel because you believe I saved you. I don’t want you to desire me for that reason. I want you to desire me because of who I am, and what we have to offer each other for a lifetime, not for this moment,” he kissed my neck as he finished speaking.
“So how do you know when it’s time?” I could feel his heart beating against my chest.
“I’ll just know, I imagine,” he responded as his hand touched the side of my face.
“Open your mouth,” he whispered.
My eyes still closed, I slowly parted my lips.
“Stick out your tongue,” he said as he kissed my chin.
I pushed my tongue past my lips.
As his lips encompassed my tongue, I opened my eyes. His left hand moved from my hair to the side of my face. His hands lightly touching each of my cheeks, we continued to kiss. As I studied his eyes, I began to ache for more. I wanted this man with all I had within me. I wanted to feel him inside of me. I wanted to become one – to share and experience each other’s bodies in the way love was defined.
Slowly, he raised his head, kissing my lips as he did so. He moved his hands from my face to my hips. Using the tips of his fingers he lightly lifted my shirt from my shorts, and slid his hands inside my shirt. As they moved across my stomach toward my chest, my breathing stuttered.
Please, please…take me, Shane. Oh God, Squeeze my…
His hands moved between my breasts and pushed flat against my chest. I could feel his pinky fingers against the inside of my breasts.
“Do you feel that?” he asked.
I felt my heart begin to race. My pussy became immediately soaked. This was embarrassing. Exciting, but embarrassing. I felt uncomfortably wet. No, I was soaked.
“What?” it took all I had to mutter that one word.
“Your heart?” he asked softly. His eyes closed as he spoke.
I blinked my eyes, focusing on the feeling of his hands against my breasts. “Yes,” I sighed.
“I want to warn you, Kace. I already told you once, when we first met. But remember what I’m telling you today - mark my words, I’m coming for this. Your heart. Be prepared, because I intend to make it mine. I’m coming for your heart, Kace,” he whispered as his hands pushed softly against my chest.
It’s already yours, Shane.
When the time comes, you’ll know it.
SHANE. “When’s Shortyshowin’ up?” Ripp asked as he tossed the chicken on the grill.
“Any time, but she said not to wait,” I responded.
“Mike Ripton waits for no man. Or woman,” he laughed.
“How much fucking chicken you got, Ripp?”
“Three of em. Shit Dekk, I’ll eat one, she’ll eat a piece, you’ll damn near eat one. That leaves a few pieces to snack on,” he said as he continued to load the grill with chicken.
I thought about it and nodded my head, affirming Ripp’s chicken count.
“So, we’re working into the end of summer, you gonna get them boots before they’re gone?” he laughed as he closed the grill.
I looked down at my boots. Seeing them from this distance, they didn’t look so bad - as long as I looked straight down at the tops of them. The sides and bottom were a different story.
“I’ll never understand ya, Dekk. Weird fucker, you’re probably the only mother fucker in Austin wearing Levi’s and boots today,” he chuckled as he sat down on the lounge chair.
“Probably,” I said as I sat down on the lounge beside him.
“So, I never asked. Your girl drink?” he asked.
I shrugged my shoulders.
“You know, I admire you for not. She ain’t drank here yet. She’s been here for eight or nine Saturdays in a row, hasn’t yet. I didn’t know if she did when you guys went out,” he said as he took a drink from his bottle of beer.
“Hasn’t yet,” I responded.
“Suppose that’s good. I don’t know where you find all the inspiration. But if she doesn’t drink, hell, it’ll be easy for you to keep up the good work,” he laughed as he finishe
d his beer.
“At least the Ultra’s won’t make me fat,” Ripp said as he slapped his hand against his stomach.
“Obviously not,” I said.
“What ya sayin’ Dekk?” he asked.
“Just said it,” I responded.
“I drink too much?” he asked.
“Didn’t say that,” I said.
“What are ya sayin?” he asked.
“Calories are calories,” I said.
“95 a bottle. That’s it. Hell, I drink a dozen of these fuckers, it ain’t gonna hurt me. That’s 1200 calories. So, no big deal. I bet I only drink five or six anyway,” he said.
“1140. But yeah, 95 calories isn’t many. You sure about that?” I asked.
“Fucking smart-ass. The Ultra’s haven’t got much, but damn they taste like it. Want one?” he chuckled.
“No, I’ll stick with this,” I said as I leaned over and grabbed my half-full glass of water from the table at the corner of the deck.
“I’m going in for some ice, need anything?” I asked as I stood up from my chair.
“No, I’m golden,” Ripp said as he stood up.
I’ve enjoyed Ripp’s routine of cooking chicken on Saturdays. It gave me something to look forward to. I’ve always liked routines, and had become almost reliant on the processes I had in place. When they don’t happen for some reason, I feel deprived. I walked into the kitchen and opened the freezer. As I looked into it, I realized that he’d dumped all of the ice I had purchased into his beer cooler.
I reached to the back of the freezer to grab the plastic ice trays. A small plastic Zip-Loc style bag was lying on top of the ice trays. As I picked it up to move it, I realized what it contained.
“Ripp, you sick fucker,” I screamed, knowing he couldn’t hear me.
I tossed the bag to the side and pulled the tray from the freezer. I dumped half of the cubes into my cup and re-filled the tray and my glass with water. I slammed the freezer door, and walked back outside to the deck.
“Ripp, you sick fuck,” I said as I closed the door behind me.
“What’s up, Dekk?” he said over his shoulder as he moved the chicken around on the grill.
“Well, I noticed you used all the ice I bought for one,” I began.
FEELS LIKE THE FIRST TIME Page 47