by Lisa DeBells
“But I do, Mitch.” It took everything in me to hold the tears back. I couldn’t help my throat catch on his name. Everything was so raw and tender. l wanted to bury my face in Mitchell’s chest and breathe him in and never leave.
“Shhhh, I know you do, baby, didn’t mean it like that. I’m here now. I’m sorry, Eden, so, so sorry.” He’s saying the words I have been waiting to hear. “Forgive me. Give me another chance.” His honesty captivated me. He pierced my heart again with those eyes. He had me believing every sweet oath. I was wondering if whatever kept him from me was to preserve us, not because he didn’t want me.
Mitchell’s lips were so close to mine all I needed to do was pucker mine and they would touch. I found my hands had entwined around his neck where they locked into place. I pulled his face close and kissed him with hurried passion. He licked at the seam of my lips and I opened up eagerly. I groaned as his tongue touched mine and we lashed desperately at one another. With reckless abandonment, he pulled my boots off without breaking our kiss. One arm squeezed around my waist, lifting me up, while the other tugged at my jeans. He sat me back down on the cold marble top.
“Shower.”
“Yes,” I uttered on his soft lips.
We entered the shower together and stood under the water. His arms wrapped powerfully tight around my body. It was strange, like we were both washing away the last few days of doubt and fear and solitarily. I was still wearing my shirt, it was long enough to cover my modesty, and Mitchell left his shorts on. I loved Mitchell’s body; his form was powerful, which was deceiving, because I knew how gentle he could be. I also loved the rough and aggressive Mitchell that did unspeakable acts to my body. I wanted to see him in all of his glory. I felt like I needed the upper hand and to act on it.
“Lose the shorts, Mitch. I want to see what I haven’t had for ten days.”
Mitchell’s indulgent gaze did a full head-to-toe sweep of my body. His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip where water was trickling down his face. He nodded once and thumbed the waistband of his shorts, gliding them down his hips. His obliques, the inverted V was amazing, cut and defined. When I see his hardness spring free and bounce up and down happily I almost come in my pants. He slid the shorts down and kicked them off. I chewed on the inside of my mouth, not willing to speak. Mitchell was so fucking beautiful that he took my breath away.
“Like what you see, Eds?” One of his well-defined eyebrows lifted up casually, questioning. But it was the cheeky smile and dimple that sent twinges of crazy lust racing through me. My sex clenched hungrily. I was dying to touch him, but had a different view on how I wanted this to play out.
I stood under the shower in my shirt. The water splashed over my head, and I leaned my face back, closing my eyes, relishing the cleansing effect it had on me. It washed away my hurt.
“Fuck.” It was Mitchell’s only response. I gazed back at him and he was staring at my breasts. “You’re naked under that shirt.”
“I was in a rush to get here.” I looked down at my now see-through shirt, I guess I couldn’t have planned it any better. Desire darkened Mitchell’s eyes as his hands reached out to grab my waist, pulling me to his hard body in one quick motion.
“I know I said I wouldn’t touch you . . . but you’re making it hard.”
“Oh, I know how hard it is.” I smirked confidently at him. I might be hurting, but having Mitchell this close? I would have to be a nun not to be affected. Even then . . .
I turned away from him and squirted some body wash onto the sponge. I started to wash Mitchell’s body, beginning from his neck. I diligently soaped every smooth inch of skin. Slipping over his bumpy abs, under his arm and down his tattooed arms to his hands. I kept my eyes away from his, focusing on washing every exquisite inch of him. I walked around to his back and scrubbed it with dedication, a groan emitting from him as he hung his head. Oh yeah, I had the touch, and I wanted to love every inch of him.
I wrapped my arms around Mitchell’s waist and slid them lower. I wanted to feel the heavy weight of him in my hands and just as I was almost there, his hands stay mine. He groaned like he didn’t want to stop me. He stepped under the water and washed the rest of his body on his own.
“Wait here.” He turned the water off. I watched Mitchell’s fine butt exit the shower, but he was back in a moment with a warm towel. He dried me off as best as he could with my soaking wet shirt. I let him wrap two heated towels around me. They were warmed by the heated towel rail. He plucked a towel and secured it hastily around his waist. There were still water droplets glistening on his chest. He bent down again, hauling me into his arms. I felt wanted and desired and special again, and I want to run my tongue over his chest and lap up every single drop of water.
He put me down gently on the edge of his bed. I was shivering, despite the warm towels. Mitchell unwrapped them from my body, slowly, like I might freak out at any second. I think he underestimated me. I wanted him more than he could possibly know. I decided to help him. I undressed. I was naked, just laying it all on the line with him now. He gulped loudly but his eyes were still devoted to mine, not checking out my naked body.
He pulled the towel from his waist, running it over his body. “Nothing between us, Eden, N. O. T. H. I. N. G.” He slowed the last word and dropped the towel. He pulled the covers back on the bed and tilted his head, signaling for me to get in. I was not about to hesitate; every cell in my body wanted to be as close to Mitch as possible. He followed me, sitting up against the headboard. Mitch sat me on his lap and pulled my back to his front. Then he was molding me to his body, twisting me sideways and pressing my face on his chest. Now he was satisfied. I was finally warm, with the covers pulled over us and buried in Mitchell’s arms. We were still, so that the only sound in the room is our breathing.
“I came home from school early one day. I didn’t feel well, so I cut class at lunch and walked home. Mom was out, probably buying food for dinner. I thought I would sweep out the garage; I usually did it on the weekend, so getting it done earlier would mean I could just ride my bike instead.” I was frozen, not really sure where this was going, it sounded pretty normal to me but if he was telling me then it must be important. “I got the broom from the kitchen and walked into the garage. My father was swinging from one of the rafters with a rope around his neck.” He took in a shaky breath. I was stunned into silence. “I was ten and it was the happiest day of my life.”
“Mitch—”
“Just listen . . .” He paused and sucked in a shaky breath. He ran a hand through his hair and I pulled the hand back to me, wrapped it back around me so he knew that I was here for him, that what he was telling me didn’t change a single thing I felt for him. “My dad was a violent man. He abused my mother physically and mentally. It was a daily routine. I was so young, and I couldn’t protect her, I tried countless times; all it got me was a black eye. I wish I’d tried harder, told someone.” He pulled me closer. I felt the shiver run through him and I turned to met his eyes. They’re black, meek, and cast a glow of regret over me. I hate that he looks so dejected and I would do anything to take the pain away.
I hold his face in my hands because I won’t have him look away from me. “You were just a little kid, Mitch. What could you have done? Even if you’d spoken out, there’s no guarantee your mother would have left him.”
“I know that. After he died, Mom was in a state of shock. We both got counseling. It didn’t make it any less traumatic. I slowly stopped blaming myself and we really started to live. We went on holidays; I was getting good grades in school. Then she got the cancer and died on me. I was almost fifteen and had no parents. It was like the universe was taunting me, pushing me to see if I would fall apart. I almost did. Chase and his family was with me all the way. Always picking me up, having my back when my bad decisions got me into trouble.”
He leaned down and nuzzled his face into my cheek, inhaling deeply and planting small kisses down my neck. My heart was practically explod
ing with love in my chest, for the small boy that endured way too much. A single tear escaped me and Mitchell caught it with his thumb and wiped it away. “No tears for me, baby, I’m here. I’ve always been a fighter.”
“I have realized that I can’t run from everything. I didn’t want to pull you down with me when people from my past come back, like they did last week. But I’m too selfish to let you walk away knowing that.” He tilted my chin so that our eyes met. “Knowing how you feel about me . . . you are my everything, Eden, and I want to spend my life proving how far I would go for you.” He lean down and places the softest kiss on my lips. His tenderness astounded me. “I love you, Eden White.”
“I love you, Mitchell Stone.” We kiss again, and passion mixed with love filled me and I was practically bursting with love. And just like that, the moment ruptured. I knew what I had to do. “Nothing you have done will change that. I love every part of you. Especially the broken parts.”
“I’m scared I will do something to push you away.”
“You’ve already done that. Me coming back is a one-off. If you push me away again, like you did, it doesn’t matter how much I love you, I won’t come back next time.” My words are harsh, but he nods in understanding. I’m glad I have made myself clear.
“I get it.”
“Thank you for telling me. Opening up like that isn’t easy.” I kiss his neck, I could distract myself with his body. I have missed him so much. I didn’t realize how much until I was in his arms again. But I need to tell him so that we can move on. “We were going to my aunt and uncles’ house for Thanksgiving. They lived in Monterey, still do. My dad was driving; Mom was in the front seat.
“It was raining and I tried to stay awake, but I loved the rain, it always had this calming effect on me, so I nodded off to sleep for a while. The thunder woke me. It was really coming down.” I closed my eyes, reliving those last moments: my father’s voice, my mother’s stunning beauty. Mitchell’s fingers stroked comfortingly up and down my back, I felt the courage to carry on knowing he had by back. “Truck headlights swerved toward us; we had no choice but to avoid it. The impact of hitting the guard rail knocked me out. Somehow I was catapulted out of the side window. The cliff was steep, with barely a tree blocking the path of the car. I was told my parents didn’t suffer, that they died before the car burst into flames.” I broke on my last sentence. Pain seared through me, but as I felt Mitchell’s arms tighten around me, I could feel the strength pass from him to me, affording me to keep talking.
“How old were you?” he asked quietly and tucked a wisp of hair behind my ear.
“Ten.” I wanted to say the next part while looking in Mitchell’s eyes. His reaction would tell me the truth. “There’s more.”
“It’s OK.” I had never seen him more serious before, like he knew everything was hinging on my next words. “It won’t be enough to make me stop loving you. You’re my life now, Eden, you have me. Every broken piece of me is yours, if you’re brave enough to take me on.”
“They say the accident ruined me for children, that it’s near impossible for me to conceive. I’ve had years to become resigned to it, but for someone where no kids is a deal breaker . . .”
“Don’t even say it. It’s not a deal breaker for me, and I’m the only one you need to think of in your future.”
“Mitchell, I’m serious. Understand I could never give you children.”
He stopped me with his kiss, sweet and soft, and stilled my racing mind. “You need to understand that if I have you, it’s everything to me.” I nod.
“I’m all yours if you want me.”
“Fuck, how I want you. My beautiful amazing woman . . . you are mine. And now I know there’s nothing between us.”
“Absolutely nothing, not even clothing.” I giggle through happy tears. I am hopeful at long last, but there’s still one more thing. “There’s just one more thing.” I hear him groan and bury his face in my neck.
“No more talking. I want you all over me. I want to taste you, every inch of your sexy body that I’ve missed.” He runs his hands down my body, squeezing my breasts and rubbing my thighs with his calloused hands.
“I want you to tattoo me.” I wait with baited breath. He looks up at me, surprise, amazed. “Tomorrow.”
“Really? You’re sure?”
“Yes, I want it. And I hear you’re the best.” I grin and perk my eyebrow up, provoking him.
“I am the best,” he says with cocky affirmation. I slap his chest.
“Careful, your head is growing.”
He growls and rolls me onto my back. He crawls up my body and holds my hands beside my head, then leans down and kisses me, sensually, lovingly, and I’m radiant like the sun because I have my other half.
Mitchell
I have her back, my beautiful girl; Eden’s mine again. Fucking mine. I never knew what it felt like to lose the woman you loved until she almost slipped through my fingers. Looking at her sleeping peaceful form, I can tell she’s exhausted. I had kept her up all night reacquainting myself with her again. I’m fucking blown away with what Eden shared. I never want her to leave my house. She’s the first thing I want to see when I wake up and I will spend everyday proving my love to her.
I have conceded that whatever or whoever reappears from my past, Eden will back me. She loves me as much as I love her. Together we are stronger, and I feel like a fucking beast right now.
I know I shouldn’t wake her, so I grab my sketchbook and some charcoals out of my drawer and sketch Eden asleep. I cover her in roses, because that’s what I’m going to ink her with. I feel like I tattooed her on me, without even knowing it, years ago. The garden of Eden, all the way down my arm. I know that I will ink her name on me, over my heart, where she will be forever, reminding me that whatever the future brings I am hers.
Epilogue
Eden
6 months later
Antique spanish lace runs the length of my back. The intricate floral pattern hugs the curve of my hips and pools into a delicate train at my sandalled feet. Tiny crystals have been hand woven into the material casting a kaleidoscope of color around the small room. Each prism reflecting all the ways and all the things that I love about Mitchell.
And oh my God, has he brought out the best in me. My cheeks are flushed and not from the rouge Ariel applied earlier. The reflection that stares out at me in the mirror is almost unrecognizeable. A year ago, this woman didn’t exist, I monkey bared through life struggling to clutch onto the next rung before my hands gave way and dropped me to the unforgiving ground.
But today. Today I am flying. Leaping without a doubt in my soul, that Mitchell is my forever.
I blow out the breathe I’m holding, in hopes to expel some adrenalin thats fizzing my blood. I walk to the window that opens onto a dark blue ocean that is sparking the suns rays like an explosion of glitter. I lean my body out hoping to catch a glimpse of the man that I will marry today, he’s under the billowing white tent on the shoreline, waiting for me. Its not long now. Two nights ago Mitchell had me promise that I wouldn’t be tardy to the alter. I agreed, as if I wouldn’t be on time, I wanted this just as much as he did, maybe more. He then proceeded to make the sweetest love to me that night, fucking me breathless.
It was much like the day he asked me to be his forever. I was awoken by fragrant feathery strokes over the tip of my nose, lips, chin, and Mitchell’s beautiful face, full of warmth peering down at me. He kissed every inch of my face, my neck, that sensitive spot behind my ear, whispering and grunting in that heart melting, gruff sexy way, that he wanted me to be his, forever, ‘be my wife’.
I slid my hands over his shoulders, lacing both fingers around Mitchell’s neck, my face inline the wide expanse of his chest. And there covering his heart was a single red petaled rose and my name in cursive script above it. Thats when he said he belonged to me. That he was waiting for me all this time and had already tattooed his garden of Eden up his arm and now I was firmly tattooe
d on his soul. My eternity…
“Earth to Eden. . . I would love to know what you're thinking girl.” She sashays in that way of hers, into the room picking up the veil off the bed.
I see the love shinning from my best friend, I know she's genuinely happy for me today. “I am so deliriously happy it would make you sick to know.” Ariel guides me to the little stool in front of the dressing table. She fiddles with the demure scrap of lace and secures it to my hair somehow, its flowing in waves down my back; as per another request by the groom.
I peer at her face awaiting the usual witty Ariel comment, something that would surely be related to hot sexy sex with my well hung hunky spunk. And yes in precisely those words. She's too quiet. “Ariel, I’m waiting for you to make me cringe with your no holds barred lingo.” I smile in encouragement at her downcast eyes. Eyes that are so large and hold so many secrets. I see a blink of tears that she swats away with her fingers.
“Weddings make me a pool of mush. Seriously, its messing with my witty combacks.” She attempts to giggle through her tears that have pooled again. I turn around and hug her waist. She instantly wraps her delicate arms about me.
I pull back because I want to see the truth in her eyes when I ask if its just the wedding or is there something she's not telling me. Years of friends intuition red flagging its the latter.
“I left him. . . again.” She pulls back and plops down on the bed, her white dress that I had specially made for her to suit her bohemian style hangs in dainty flounces at her pink manicured toes. “Fuck, hes such a dead shit, how do I attract all the rejects, tell me Eden.”