My mouth had gone desert dry. “No, it will hurt. Lots.” Like a festering wound that wouldn’t heal.
“If it will hurt that much breaking up now, doesn’t that defeat the purpose of not getting into a relationship with him?” She could be way too sensible and logical sometimes. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to talk to him about it and establish whether he still drinks too much? I mean, we all have done pretty stupid things in our youth.”
“But his stupid thing cost someone else’s life. How do you atone for that?” Would I ever be able to forgive the man who had killed my sister? I didn’t think so. Granted, he was unrepentant and had even tried to sue my mother for undue stress after the judge had let him go with only a slap on the wrist. Gavin had lost a leg and turned his life around completely, as far as I could tell.
I’m so confused.
“Listen, before you decide to throw the love of your life away with the trash, talk to him. See what he has to say for himself.”
She had a point. Ever since the gas explosion a couple days ago, I had been less determined about calling it quits and more inclined to see how things worked out. Be careful what you wish for. I had been looking for a real man, and now that I had one, I was having trouble accepting his flaws. What kind of human being did that make me?
I waited all day, puttering around the house, sporadically sitting with my laptop and writing a bit more of the novel-that-wouldn’t-be. Not that time was helpful. The more I thought about it, the more confused I became. Night had already fallen when I finally made the decision to go to his house and confront him about it.
He had been released from the hospital the day after the incident. I hadn’t been to see him, but the neighborhood friendly gossipers—Alan and Justin—had kept me abreast of every little development. Gavin was still sore and off duty, but healing quickly. They had also felt compelled to share that their bionic friend—as they liked to call him—missed me something awful and was a mere shadow of his normal self as a result. Who knew that the two young firemen were romantics at heart?
My small Yaris had trouble starting after such a long time in the garage without use. I didn’t drive often since I normally didn’t go far from home. My introvert self was perfectly happy walking around the neighborhood or taking rides from friends when I did indeed have to go someplace to where walking was not an option. My characters were well traveled, but I had only traveled within the pages of books or through movies and TV shows. After getting married, my husband had taken me on a honeymoon to Florida, but that was the extent of my traveling life.
I parked out in the street and then stood by the curb, frowning at the awful job I had done. The back tire of my car was practically over the curb while the front end stuck out into the street, as if giving every passerby the finger. I shook my head and turned around, walking away quickly before I felt the pull to perfect my parking job.
The door buzzed after I rang the bell. I climbed the stairs to his floor, and then stood like an idiot, facing the door and willing myself to knock. Déjà vu.
Like the first time I had done this, the door suddenly opened, leaving me with my fist propped up and my eyes wide in surprise. Gavin, head and arm still bandaged, stood there—all six-odd feet of him, shirtless and toned. My girly bits reacted before I could. The heat that the sight of him produced in me climbed from my lower body to my face in a furious wave. I lowered my fist and bit my lower lip, trying to calm down my fast-beating heart without much success.
“Ana.” His sexy, gruff voice melted something inside of me, and I threw myself unwisely into his arms. “Ouch. I’m a little tender.” His soft chuckle belied his words as his arms went around me.
“Can we talk?” My voice, muffled against his chest, surprised me, as if it belonged to someone else.
Still within the cocoon of his arms, I kicked the door closed behind me and walked with him to the living room. His lips brushed the top of my head, and my knees grew weak. Focus, woman.
“Not that I’m complaining, but why are you here?”
Gavin led us to the sofa and I dropped into the soft cushions, never once letting go. Suddenly, I was afraid of losing him. Afraid I would blink and he’d be gone.
“I love you.” Every intention of talking things over, of asking him about his accident, flew out of my mind. All I could think was of how much I loved him, this flesh and bone man, as real and beautiful as the rising sun. My real man.
Gavin’s breath caught and his eyes widened just enough to betray his surprise. “You—what?”
I covered his cheeks with my hands and looked him straight in the eyes. “I. Love. You.”
I brought my lips to his and drowned in his flavor. I would cross the questions bridge later. But at that moment, I realized that living without him would be more unbearable than knowing what he had done. Whoever he had been then was not who he was now. The man kissing me as if there was no tomorrow was a hero, someone who didn’t hesitate to jump into danger to save a friend. Not someone who would drive intoxicated and kill a mentor.
“I love you too.” I felt the words as he moved his lips over mine and I caught on fire. Hell and brimstone wouldn’t stop me from loving him fully, body and soul.
***
Gavin
Clothing items flew in great, graceful arcs, falling scattered to the wooden floor around us in a colorful downpour of sorts. In the end, Ana and I stood naked in the middle of my living room, taking each other in, breathing ragged in anticipation.
Still finding it hard to believe she was really there, beautiful flesh and bone illuminated by the muted light, I reached out to touch her. I cupped her breast and shivered as she moaned gently and leaned against my hand. I followed my hand with my lips, coaxing more whimpering from her. Anxious to be inside her, I hooked an arm around her waist and lifted her up, her legs knotted behind my hips. She vibrated under my touch—her softness against my hardness, her gentle curves merging with the ridges of my muscles.
“I need you.” I kissed her along the earlobe and squeezed her tighter against me. My hands were under her small, firm bottom, supporting her weight, hugging her closer and closer to me. Her body radiated heat into mine. “I love you so much it’s crazy.”
We stumbled across the room, her arms wrapped around my neck, mouths fused in a thirsty kiss that wouldn’t be quenched. In the room, we dropped together onto the bed. I raised myself on my arms, hovering above her, to have another glance at her beauty. She reached down between us and caressed me until I was hard as a rock and shaking with yearning.
“Can’t wait anymore.” Her voice, husky with desire, was all the invitation I needed. I jumped out of bed, hopped to where I kept my condoms, and was back before she knew I was gone. I fumbled with the packet until she took it away from me, ripped it open, and rolled it maddeningly slowly over me. “Now, we’re ready.” She licked her lips and I was lost.
Our connected bodies moved together in a frantic game of to-and-fro, punctuated by our own groans of pleasure until we both reached nirvana and collapsed in each other’s arms, spent and sated. I had never been one for poetry or philosophy, but at that moment for some strange reason, a quote from Rumi came to mind: “Happy is the moment we sit together, with two forms, with two faces, yet one soul. You and I.” I loved this woman more than I had ever loved anyone or anything.
We must have slept, because the next thing I knew, the weak rays of the morning sun were seeping through the cracks in the blinds, giving my sweet Ana an otherworldly glow. She was still entwined in my arms, my body molding hers, my mouth resting in the crook of her graceful neck. I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay like that forever, comfortable and secure in her love, our bodies perfectly matched like two pieces of a puzzle.
Unfortunately, I needed to use the bathroom. Badly. As stealthily as I could, I pulled my arm from underneath her and retreated from her lovely warm body, feeling suddenly empty. She moved and whimpered quietly in protest, but didn’t wake up. Maybe I would be
able to crawl into bed with her afterward.
When I returned from my bathroom mission, I found her lying on her side, head resting on one hand and a wicked smile on her lips. She scanned me from my toes to the top of my head with an appreciative wink of the eye.
“You’re very yummy.”
High praise indeed coming from a woman who created hot guys who only lived in the imaginations of women—and some guys. If I scored that high on her scale, she must be really in love with me. My mechanical leg did not add any sexiness to my body. I smiled back at her and, playing her game, I leaned against the wall, striking what I thought may be a sexy pose.
She burst out laughing.
“That hurts my fragile ego, woman.” It didn’t. I loved her laughter—the way her giggles bubbled up her throat and fell off her lips like crystals, clinking against each other in a symphony of rings and jingles.
I ran to the bed and threw myself on top, falling right next to her. Her mouth descended on mine, her tongue playing along the edges of my lips before seeking mine. Was it possible I loved her more today than last night?
I wrapped her in my arms, enjoying every bit of bodily contact. I was hard again and very willing to go another round of loving, but Ana seemed to have other ideas. She cuddled against my chest, her dark hair tickling me as she butterfly-kissed me.
“I want you to know I will always love you.” Me too. “I will never allow your past to get between us, I promise.” That was unexpected.
“What do you mean?” I had no idea what she was talking about. My past? What past? Does she mean the string of meaningless hookups throughout the years? I was not that different from other guys my age, so how did that make a past?
“Whatever you may have done in the past, I won’t let it come between us. However hard it is for me to accept it.” Odd. Very odd indeed.
“You know that all those girls I dated were never serious, right?” She had never brought my romantic past up before. Why now?
“I don’t mean that, Gavin.” Her hand was drawing imaginary circles over my chest, raising goose bumps. “I don’t care about who you dated before. God, I was married.” Then what? “I mean the accident.”
The accident? Why would that come between us? Is she talking about my prosthetic leg? “Does the leg bother you that much that you think it will get in the way of us?”
Her head snapped up, her chin now digging into my chest and her eyes burning on mine. “Of course not. Why would I care about your leg?”
“You said my accident. How can my accident get in the way?” I was so confused I thought for a moment the meds they gave me for the pain may still be having their weird effect on me.
“I’m talking about you driving that car the night of the accident.” What?
“I wasn’t driving the car.” Her eyes became round as saucers. “I should have never gotten into that car, but I thought I could convince Bill not to drive when he was so fucking drunk. I was wrong.” Her mouth agape, Ana paled. “He drove anyway, and about killed me along with himself.” This conversation was more effective than a cold shower. Images of that night invaded my mind and I shook my head in an attempt to dispel them.
In a totally unexpected move, Ana jumped up to her knees and threw her arms up in the air. “Yay! Oh my God, I’m so happy.”
Shit. Those meds are doing a number on me.
“You’re happy Bill crashed that car, killing himself and making me disabled for the rest of my life?”
Ana threw herself on top of me, her mouth crushing against mine. Her breasts, jammed against my chest, made me swell again, and I wiggled under her in some discomfort. “Dummy. I love you.” Okay, she loves dumb guys. Not sure how to react to that. “I’m happy you weren’t the one driving that night. I thought—oh shit, I thought you had killed your mentor.”
Cold shower effect again. Man, this conversation was putting my body through the wringer.
“You thought I was the driver? That I had driven drunk and crashed the car?”
“Yes, and I’ve been having such a hard time coming to terms with that.” Her chin quivered, and I hugged her tighter against me. “You know, my sister was killed by a drunk driver. I wasn’t sure I could love you and accept the fact you had done the same to somebody else.”
A light bulb went on inside my brain. “Is that why you’re mad at me?” I twisted my head so I could look at her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I’m so freaking dumb. I was scared of what excuses you may come up with.” A rogue tear rolled down her cheek, and I wiped it with my thumb. “It would be even worse if you tried to justify what you—what I thought you did.”
“Oh, baby, we’re both fools. I should have told you my story a long time ago.” We would have avoided so many misunderstandings. “It always brings so many bad memories, I— It’s hard to talk about it. That’s all.”
We held each other in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s heat, until my body began misbehaving again.
Ana giggled. “Really? Now?”
I shrugged. “I’m not in control here, duckling. My body knows what it wants, and apparently it wants you again.”
She laughed and feathered her fingers down my middle teasingly. “Who am I to argue with this bionic body of yours?”
I groaned. “Not you too.” But I didn’t care. As soon as her mouth came down on me, I forgot the world around us existed. It was just Ana and me starring in this epic romance of ours.
***
Ana
His muscles bulged from the short sleeves of his tight T-shirt, and she fanned herself, suddenly feeling the flames of desire licking at her toes. He was a god, all tattooed muscle. She quivered in anticipation of what those big hands of his were about to do to her. Hard to believe he was hers.
Ana laughed. She had decided she didn’t need to write about a real man, considering she had one. A man who fulfilled all her fantasies and desires. She was an ordinary woman with simple needs and dreams. Being able to make love to Gavin every night and walk hand in hand with him down the street was a dream come true. One she was not willing to share even with her faithful and beloved readers.
Let the readers find their own real men. In the meantime, she would give them the stuff they loved and craved. The very unreal—and so unlike what she considered sexy—men of romantic fantasies, while she would enjoy every beautiful minute she had with her fireman hero. Her real man.
<<<<>>>>
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