Love Untouched (Unexpected)

by Anne Leigh

  I touched my lips to the scar closest to her heart then proceeded to kiss the others. She had scars, true. But the woman that she was now, with all the trials that she has been through- she was perfection. Absolute perfection.

  Her breath hitched and her eyes changed into a deeper blue when I continued kissing her stomach as I looked up at her. I said slowly, enunciating every word, sending my message clear, “Your scars, Brynn. They are beautiful.”

  She shook her head, trying to push me away from her.

  Remembering her earlier request, I stood up to my full height. “I’ll teach you how to swim, on one condition.”

  Her gaze searched my face.

  “You have to be naked when I teach you. No clothing touching your skin. No swimsuits. No bra and panties.” I hoped my voice didn’t betray the arousal that was fully evident underneath my wet boxers, because as much as I wanted to relieve my body inside of hers, I really wanted her to learn how to swim. “I want to feel everything, Brynn. Don’t hide your body from me.”

  Her face dawning with understanding, she inquired, “But if I am naked, won’t that distract you?”

  “You distract me whether you are naked or not. I will teach you, and after our swimming lessons for the next couple of days, I promise you that you will be able to swim.” I stopped, choosing my words wisely. “But after our lessons, I want to learn every line on your body. You said your body’s nothing compared to mine. That’s true and thank goodness that’s the case. What you’re showing me, what you’re telling me, what you’re sharing with me makes me like you even more. You have scars on the outside, but your strength is infallible. Without your scars, you would not be standing in front of me right now. Without them, I wouldn’t have had the chance to know what an amazing person you are. Inside and outside. You are absolute perfection, Brynn.”

  “I dream of being able to spend hours in the water.”

  ~J.R., age 7, Burkitt’s lymphoma

  When a woman was naked with a man, there was only one thing that happened. Bodies connect at the primal level and well, things just happen. Nah-uh. Not with Kieran.

  He was so business-like with me. Here I was, up at 9 o’clock in the morning after he dragged me into the pool. We slept in the same bed last night. Initially, he had offered me the other bedroom in the pool house. Apparently, the pool house was Kieran’s place at his parents’ sprawling estate. I called it an estate because there was no other way to describe the monstrosity of a house with an Olympic-sized pool, a tennis court, and yes, a massive garden filled with rare orchids and flowers. Kieran’s place was definitely an estate. When I asked Kieran what his parents did for a living, he shrugged his shoulders and said that his father was a lawyer and his mother was a retired pediatrician. Unless one or both of his parents were descendants of an oil tycoon or a railroad heir, there was no way a lawyer’s salary could pay for this. Kieran further explained that his father was a co-founding partner of the global law firm, Stone and Bentley, whose corporate clientele included luxury goods, top fashion brands, and retail companies.

  I had actually wished that Sedona would have told me just how wealthy Kieran’s family was, but would it have made a difference? Probably not. Kieran also made it sound like it was the most normal thing that he lived this luxurious life and this was the world to which he was accustomed.

  During breakfast, we sat poolside eating the pancakes and waffles I made from their well-stocked pantry. Being in their kitchen was like a self-induced orgasm by itself. One day, if I won millions, I’d make an exact replica of their kitchen. He held my hand across the table. “I am fortunate to not want for material things Brynn. My parents gave me and my brothers everything we wanted: the latest toys, the latest gadgets, and the latest cars when we turned sixteen. But at a certain point, you get tired of all of that. The latest ‘in’ thing becomes a thing of the past. Swimming is the only thing in my life that’s made me work for something more. The second I hit the water, I feel like I can breathe again.”

  He took deep, long breaths after that and just stared at me.

  “You are so beautiful.” I blushed at his compliment and gave him a quick smile.

  He turned his dark brown eyes on me. His dark blonde hair had that I-just-woke-up look, forming an unruly mess that made a girl like me want to fix it, and then make it messy again with my hands.

  Last night, he thought he was being magnanimous when he offered the other bedroom in the pool house for me to sleep in. I could tell that he was not willing for me to take him up on the offer, so I took matters into my own hands. I asked him where he was sleeping. We went inside a smaller bedroom with dark blue walls, a large picture frame of an ocean hanging above a king-sized bed, with dark blue sheets and pillows. I quirked a brow at him, and asked, “You sleeping here?”

  He nodded, his eyes filling with glee, and his dimples started to appear on both sides of his mouth.

  I tapped my hands on the side of the bed closest to the door. “Well then, this is my side of the bed.”

  His face broke into a full-on smile. He took two long strides to reach me, and scooped me up in his arms. I straddled his body and we started a heated battle of tongues and lips. I have learned that Kieran waited for my cues. He was not one to just take without asking. He waited for my signal, and once I gave him the green light, he took over. It was inevitable that we were going to be together. There was no way for the fire between us to be doused without exploring the attraction that crackled from the moment I first laid eyes on him.

  His voice was husky and his eyes turned that almost-black pigment. He breathed out harshly, “Tell me you want this too Brynn.”

  I pushed him down on the bed and kissed his open mouth in eager response. I nuzzled his neck and started working towards removing the red shirt that he had changed into after we had gotten out of the pool. He let me do what I wanted, as if he wanted me to just own his body. As soon as his shirt was off, I splayed my hands over his left shoulder. “Does this still hurt?” He has not mentioned anything about the pain over the past weeks.

  “Same old but it goes away.” He has been doing more intense physical therapy sessions with his trainers and he knew when and how much to push his body so the shoulder pain would be manageable. I had a feeling it still bothered him but he was managing it. Otherwise, he would have said something about it. He was in regular communication with the team doctor. Kieran knew what his body needed so he could compete at the highest level; he would not ignore it if the pain were unbearable.

  I traveled my mouth down the middle of his chest, and before I went any lower, I felt emboldened to ask, “Is it true?” while slowly unzipping his jeans.

  His voice sounded laden with desire. “What’s true?”

  I stopped a giggle that was bubbling in my throat. “That swimmer’s penises shrink in the water? From too much chlorine?”

  “Why don’t you find out for yourself?” His hooded eyes were teasing, and his words spread out in harsh, short durations timed with his even breathing.

  Never one to back down from a challenge, I lowered his boxers and there he was.

  “Ohhh my.” I gulped. How the hell was he going to fit inside me? The last time I had sex was over six years ago. Johnny Bean’s ‘boy’ was mighty tiny compared to Kieran’s enormous manhood. I was finding out that everything about this man was enormous—his house, his pool, his penis. What a day for revelations!

  “How do you hide this giant when you’re in your swimming gear?” I asked, totally distracted now. Did he tape it down? Dark blonde hair surrounded it, and how was it that it never looked like there was any hair poking out or something when he was in his suit?

  He pulled himself up into a sitting position, his erection standing in the small amount of space between us.

  “My turn.” His voice was now uneven, and his hands impatient. He grabbed my butt, stood up with me on top of him, turned us around, and then lowered us back down to the bed.

  I guessed he was done with m
y questions. I wanted answers, though. How did he hide himself inside his suit? Kieran’s body was naturally free of a bushy, hairy chest that other guys had. He could be the ‘after’ picture in a Gillette commercial. Well, that was if guys admitted to shaving their chests on TV. His body was lined with light blonde hairs so fine that you could hardly see them. So did he shave down there?

  All thoughts of shaving any part of the body flew out the window the moment I felt his mouth make contact with my breasts, his large hands completely engulfing them, owning them, and making me want for more.

  My hands found their way into his hair as I soaked in the pleasure he was giving me, completely giving myself in to experiencing the heightened sensations of the way he was touching me, kissing me, tonguing me.

  His mouth left my breasts and traveled down to my stomach. He unzipped my shorts and lowered them down my legs. I felt his hand push my cotton panties to the side, and the first time his tongue flicked inside me, I almost shot out of the bed. He continued kissing me, and finally, he gave me respite when he pulled down my panties and inserted a finger inside of me.

  His eyes locked with mine. My own breath left me when I saw the hunger in his eyes. “Brynn, you smell like vanilla, but taste like honey.”

  His tongue trailed a circle around his lips, licking every drop of my arousal into his mouth. God, my body throbbed, my nerves spasmed with the urgent need to pull him inside of me.

  “Kieran, please.” My voice was close to begging. “I want you inside me.”

  He ignored my plea as I felt his tongue working its wicked way in and out of me. I felt two of his fingers thrusting in tandem with his tongue on my sensitive nub. The combined pressure was too much, too overpowering, that I succumbed to my release.

  “Ohhh!” A loud scream escaped me, wetness gushing out of me.

  Still bleary-eyed from the heart-stopping orgasm that wracked my body, I opened my eyes just in time to see him suiting himself up with a condom. Without due warning, he pushed inside of me. A wave of fullness mixed with slight pain filled my senses. It must have shown in my face because he stopped his motions, “Am I hurting you?”

  “No.” I was not hurting, per se. The intrusion of his massive length just shocked me for a moment. “It’s just that it’s been a long time for me.” I had slept with only one man. Eons ago.

  He slowly pushed back in. I sensed that he was trying to find his rhythm and at the same time, he didn’t want to hurt me. After adjusting myself to his girth, I grabbed his hands and spread them over my breasts.

  “Give it to me,” I urged, conveying my deepest thoughts, “I’m okay Kieran... please, give it to me.”

  He delved inside me deeper, pacing himself with long and short strokes. Minutes passed by. He was relentless in his conquest of my body. He swiveled his hips to go deeper but slower. His stomach muscles corded with each movement. I felt the strength and power of his pectoral muscles when he leaned back down to clutch my hair in his fists, murmuring, whispering, “I want you so much. You feel so good. Honey, ohh...”

  I clenched my inner muscles, silently thanking Ava for making me attend those spinning, Zumba, and rope-climbing classes. I lightly bit down on his shoulder as I felt another climax overriding me. In a matter of seconds, I was oh so beautifully torn apart. I felt him tighten inside me, the contraction of his hardness making me extremely sensitive. He let out a loud groan, “Argghh...” followed by him spilling inside of the condom. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to mine. Stroking my cheek lightly, he murmured, “Absolutely amazing.”

  I kissed his jawline and whispered, “You are.”

  When I said that Kieran was business-like while I was naked, this businesslike state of mind only happened when he was teaching me how to swim.

  After an amazing night of orgasms and multiple exchanges of intimate bodily fluids, I was sore in places that I have never been sore before. The last thing on my mind was learning how to swim.

  Kieran though?

  He was a slave driver. He insisted that I had to learn how to swim, and who was I to resist the charm of those twin dimples and beseeching brown eyes? Plus, he threatened me with tossing my butt into the pool, with or without my consent, so here we were. He showed me how to float first. I was thoroughly distracted by the show of rippled abdominal muscles. I have seen many a six-pack in my life. My brother had friends, friends who had muscles up the wazoo. Kieran’s were understated yet perfect at any angle. You could tell that his stomach muscles were seated to his internal obliques without a hint of fat. The flexion, extension, the dips, and the bulges that simultaneously occurred when he stretched his arms should be a headliner.

  I was licking my lips as he shook his head knowingly. “You’re not paying attention.”

  “I am,” I replied, denying him lest another part of his body grow any larger. “See, I now know how to float.” I had my arms at my sides as I laid back in the water, kicking my feet gingerly, and following his earlier instructions to think of the water as a bed where I can just lay in. After a few disastrous attempts, and Kieran’s groping hands, I can now add ‘floating’ to my resume.

  He smiled. “Honey, you are something else.” He started calling me honey after last night, because I tasted like honey, he had proclaimed.

  “Mr. Stone, you better watch your back.” I kicked my feet faster. “I might become the female version of you in the water.”

  He broke into a loud laugh, pulled me close to him, so we now stood side by side along the six-foot end of the pool. He put his arms around me, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist, and since I was naked, he had access to every part of my body while he wore swimming trunks. It was unfair, but he was strict in his conditions that I had to be naked when he taught me. He caressed the length of my back, and nipped on my left earlobe. “I can never get enough of you. Swimming lesson’s over now. You can float. Tomorrow, I’ll show you the basic strokes of swimming.”

  “Ok,” I responded, feeling elated and happy. I haven’t felt like this with any man. He was teaching me how to tread water, how to swim. This accomplished athlete who was reserved in every way in front of the world, known to many as the “aloof” swimming sensation, didn’t mince words and commands with me. He was direct, firm, and gentle. He was a contradiction of all sorts. He was tight, cool, and collected in public, but he came loose, turned up the heat, and held nothing back in bed. For a man of few words, he spoke the language of sex in many ways.

  I was naked as the day I was born in this swimming pool. My scars evident and my body’s imperfections displayed for him. Every time I looked into his eyes, I saw, without any doubt, that he meant what he had said before. I was perfection, to him. Absolutely.

  “I wish I could spend a day with an Olympian.”

  ~D.T., age 10, Ewing sarcoma

  “Brynn have you seen the latest photo shoot of Alex Totikov?” Ava was sprawled over my couch flipping through the pages of a fashion magazine, checking her phone, answering e-mails, and planning her work schedule all at the same time. She called herself, ‘Grand Multi-tasker.’

  I was baking cookies, twelve batches of them. Chocolate chip for Milo. Oatmeal for Kieran. Snickerdoodles for Ava. None for me. I had a demanding clientele who didn’t pay a dime. Well, at least Kieran gave me great sex. I should quit my job and become a baker. I loved baking. I loved nursing. I was lucky to be able to have both in my life.

  “Ava, you should know that I don’t have enough time to look up naked models online.” I sniggered in reply. “Why would I be interested in him anyway?”

  She harrumphed and stumbled into the kitchen. Today’s look was dark blue sweatpants and a plain light-blue shirt. Ava was like this with me. She was not Ms. Hoity Toity, all glammed or made up. Our friendship thrived because she showed me her true self. She was bitchy, annoying, and had a sewer mouth at times. But, she was laid-back, loyal to the end, and if I was caught in a jungle somewhere where GPS could not locate me, I knew she’d have military planes chartered
out to get to me.

  “You should be interested in him because he has the body that would rival Beckham, a face that could end the war between Angelina and Jennifer, and a voice that could make Denzel weep. Granted, Alex has the sexiest accent ever.” Her light gray eyes sparkled bright with admiration for the man who was the most in-demand male fashion model.

  I gave her a smirk. “You and your undying crush. He asked you out but you didn’t go out with him. Something is wrong with you.” Alex asked Ava out during a charity event but Ava flat-out turned him down. Since then, Alex has been calling her non-stop, but she blatantly ignores his calls. My best friend’s logic was mind-altering.

  She tsked, her lips turning up. “I like to admire him from afar. What if we go out and then he does something that will turn me off? What if he has an ugly belch? What if his kisses turn out to be disgusting? Then I would be left with no eye candy to salivate over. Fantasy is way better than reality my dear. I choose to keep him at bay so that I can continue to admire him from a distance.” She dipped her neon-green fingernail into my cookie batter. “Yuck, this is not snickerdoodle.” Her face twisted in disgust.