Not in the heightened way I felt it with James before.
It’s about intimacy and trust and love, now. I trust James to treat me gently. I trust him with my body—even in its most vulnerable state.
Even at my absolute physical worst.
“Still okay?” James whispers.
“Mhmm,” I say. I squirm against him. His chest and abdominals are hot against my skin. That’s all the pleasure I’m going to find with him tonight. The simple, honest, still-accessible warmth that comes from his flesh on mine.
“Okay.” He kisses me. “If it ever gets too much—“
“Just go,” I say. “I can take it. I want to feel you, James. I’m not going to—I’m not going to let this disease win.”
“That’s my fucking girl,” he murmurs.
He presses his forehead against mine and builds on the ebbing rhythm. He kisses me, then backs off to let us both breathe, then kisses me again. He takes each one of my hands and connects our palms. Our fingers link together. His cock continues pulsing in and out of me in a slow, deep rhythm.
I want him to go faster, but I’m too afraid to ask. I’m too afraid of being unable to handle it. So he just continues fucking me, slowly and fully… but I know that neither of us is going anywhere.
It continues on like that for a long time. I close my eyes and try to lose myself in the moment. In the heat of James’ body, in the feel of his skin, in his masculine scent, in his amazing, delicious taste, but it’s…
It’s just not working.
He feels me withdraw and stops. He pulls out. “Celeste…” he says.
“I’m okay,” I say. “Keep going. Don’t stop. I want you to…” I swallow, “…to fuck me.”
“You’re not ready.” He shakes his head and rolls off. I close my eyes and fight back tears.
Will I ever be ready again?
“Come here,” he says. He locks an arm around me. I find comfort in that hold. “Celeste, hey baby, it’s okay. I’m not mad. I’m not disappointed. Hey,” he tilts my chin toward him, “don’t cry.”
“But what if… what if we can’t?” I say. I start to blubber. “What if we can’t, James? What if we can’t do it, ever again?”
He looks at me, deep in thought for a long moment. Finally, he says, “Do you love me?”
I want to punch him and smile all at the same time.
“Stupid man. You know I do.”
“Will you fight it?”
“No,” I say. “No. I won’t, because I know it’s pointless with you.”
“And I love you,” he tells me. “I love you, Celeste. You above all, I love you more than I love fucking you. I love you more than I love the passion we share when we’re together. I love you more than… more than anything on this damn planet, to be honest.”
“More than your pet tortoise?” I ask.
He frowns. “I don’t have a pet tortoise.”
“I know,” I say. “But if you did. Would you love me more?”
“What an odd question.” A smile plays on his lips. “But yes, Celeste. Of course. Anyway.” He shakes his head. Then he barks a laugh. “What the fuck, a tortoise? Really?”
“Tortoises live a very long time,” I tell him solemnly. “You get one, and it’ll probably outlive even you.”
“Hey. Hey.” He takes my chin again. “I don’t want such moroseness out of you. No more talk about life expectancy or whatever, you hear me?”
I give a smug smile. “Yeah, yeah. Sure.”
“Tortoises.” He laughs. “How does that even come to you, Celeste? What were we talking about?”
I snuggle up to him. “Doesn’t matter,” I say. “I just like hearing your voice. But I think…” I smile. “I think you were telling me how much you love me.”
“Yes, that’s right.” He begins tracing a circle over my hips. “I love you very much, Celeste. You above all else. I’m perfectly happy sharing with you all that you can give me. Even this—just this—“ he looks at our intertwined bodies, “—fills me with so much joy it’s unbelievable. You’re unbelievable, Celeste. So don’t worry. And don’t think that we never can. We can and we will. You’re beating this thing. And once you do, you’re coming with me, and we’re setting off to explore the world. Where do you want to go first? Pick a spot, we’ll go there. We’ll learn their culture and their language and experience life brand new. We’ll go to Paris, to Spain, to Crete…”
I let him ramble on without giving much more than a “yes” or a murmur of agreement here and there. Let him dream. Realistically, let him dream. If he has a vision for our future, who am I to deny it?
Besides, all I really want is what I have right now, to be wherever James is, to be wrapped up in his arms, and to let his deep and sexy voice lull me to sleep.
Every single night.
For however long it’s possible.
20.
I jerk to in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.
My heart’s thundering in my chest. Something’s wrong, I think. Something’s wrong, something’s wrong, something’s wrong.
I do a quick rundown of my body but everything seems stable. There’s no nausea. No white worms of light. No pain, no headache, no internal pressure.
No dizziness.
Nothing, really, aside from the sweat. Nothing aside from stark apprehension.
I look at James. He’s calm in his sleep. I reach out and touch him. He’s here. He’s real.
Then why the hell do I feel so worried?
I slip out of bed. I need to change out of this nightgown into something fresh.
I’m halfway to the closet before I remember it’s empty. I don’t live here anymore, and Summer is on her way out.
It’s a wonder my bed still had the sheets and covers I’d left on it when I moved into James’s place.
I ease the door to the hall open and gently close it behind me. My hand trails across the wall for the light switch. I find it, flick it up.
A faraway bulb turns on.
I wait for my eyes to adjust to the light then wander to the living room. That feeling at the back of my skull that something is wrong hasn’t diminished one bit.
I glance at the entrance door for signs of Summer’s return. But her shoes aren’t there.
I guess she decided to spend the night with Alfred.
A tinge of sadness touches me at that thought. How long has she pretended to be someone she’s not? How horrible it must be to live life feeling repressed and unable to express yourself.
But maybe she’s not really with Alfred. I kind of hope not, given what she told me earlier. It’s just feeding into her inability—into her fear?—of being true to herself.
Fuck, but I wish I knew about her sooner. I wish she’d told me earlier.
And her strong feelings for me… well, that would certainly explain her behavior. She acted like a spurned lover not because of James, but because of me!
That certainly sheds a new light on things.
If she told me, I would have helped. I would never have abandoned her.
I sigh and walk to the kitchen. I pull open the fridge and take out a cold bottle of water. I untwist the cap, take a little sip, and go sit by the table.
I try to relax. To clear my mind of any worries and dispel this discomforting tension.
But for some reason, I can’t. I can’t shake the feeling that something, somewhere is horribly wrong. No, that’s a cop out. Something somewhere is always wrong. What I feel is that something important to me is wrong.
But it’s not my body. My body is fine… relatively. I don’t feel like puking. I’m not weaker than usual. Everything is operational.
What else could it be? Am I anxious about the hospital tests tomorrow? That could be it. When I return to the hospital I’ll get the scans and firmly know whether the cancer has spread. I’ll know my prognosis.
But that’s not frightening. It’s not what is causing the anxiety. If anything, I’m excited at the prospect, because it’
ll lend some clarity to where I stand.
Am I worried about James? Could I be apprehensive about what happens to him once I’m gone?”
No. I shake my head. I warned him what would happen if he stayed with me. He knows the risks. I tried pushing him away, but it only solidified the knowledge of how much I need him. I need him to breathe. I need him to exist. I have no idea how I survived without him before.
I’m giving in to all the girly fantasies and make-believes that I despised for so very long. But I’m not fighting that either, anymore. James wants to be with me. He’s a grown man, he can make his own decisions. It would be patronizing to try to change his mind.
Patronizing and exhausting and absolutely useless.
What’s more… I don’t want him to change his mind.
I sip the cold water and try to figure out what could be wrong, but nothing comes to mind.
In the end, I chalk it up to regular old stress. Too much cortisol in my blood and such. If I were a yoga girl, now would be the perfect time to do some sun salutations. Or whatever the calming exercises are called.
I end up pulling the kitchen chair to the window. I watch the snow fall. Everything looks so clean and white and pristine.
I love the crispness of it all, and I’m extraordinarily sad that I won’t see it next year.
21.
James wakes me gently in the morning.
I feel his hand on my shoulder and roll my head toward it. I rub my cheek over his strong knuckles like a cat wanting to be petted.
“Hey babe,” he says softly. “Why are you out here? I woke up alone and was scared you’d run off again.”
I smile at him and give a soft laugh. “Where would I go?”
“I don’t know. But you’re resourceful. I’m sure you would have figured something new out to infuriate me.”
He smiles to let me know he’s kidding.
“Nah,” I tell him, yawning. “I gave you your one free out, sexy. You didn’t take it, so you’re stuck with me. Till death do us part, just like a married couple,” I joke.
He scowls, and I’m reminded again how he hates when I bring that up.
“Sorry,” I say quickly. “Brain’s not fully functional this early.”
“I’ll let it slide,” he says. “But hey,” he perks up. “You called me ‘sexy.' That’s a new one from you.”
“Oh, like you need my help reminding you,” I say.
He gives a sly look. “It couldn’t hurt.”
“Okay. In that case…” I stand up and press my body into his. I look up into his gorgeous green eyes. “In that case, I think you’re the sexiest man alive. You’re smoking hot and so fucking sharp and you have the most glorious eyes… lips… mouth.” I trace my finger over each of those features. “You’ve got an enormous heart that you’ve opened to me, for reasons I still can’t comprehend, and I’ll never hurt you or betray you or lose that trust by pushing you away again. I won’t rebel, because you’re just so damn amazing. Magnificent. Beautiful. Spectacular.” I smile wide. “And above all else, James, you’re mine, and mine alone, and I won’t let anything that I can control come between us.”
“Wow,” he murmurs. He sweeps my hair back and tilts his head down to look at me. “All that, huh? Damn, you’re one lucky girl to have netted someone like me.”
I punch him in the gut. “Watch it, buddy!”
He laughs, then without warning, sweeps me off my feet and kisses me hard.
A fire erupts in my belly. I grip his hair and pull him into me. I open one eye to find the couch and pull us back toward it.
We fall in a heap, with him on top of me. His hands run over my body. He grips my legs, my back, my ass. I can feel his arousal growing strong. It presses into my tummy, and the most overwhelming need to have him inside of me washes over my body.
It’s a need that was absent last night.
“James!” I gasp as his mouth trails down my neck and finds my breasts. He buries his head in my cleavage. I arch up into him, granting him further access.
He pulls my shirt apart. My body is revealed to him. He sucks in a reverent breath and starts kissing all the exposed skin.
My breathing becomes fast and hard and shallow. Little gasps escape my lips as he sucks on my breasts. He kneads them with his hands. Scorching lust and desire shoot through me.
I want his cock.
“Stop,” I say.
He freezes. His head turns up. His pupils look like enormous black saucers surrounded by a strip of green. “Are you okay?”
“Let me ride you,” I breathe.
It takes about a half a second for him to process the words. Then he shakes his head as if in surprise. “Are you sure?”
“James, I fucking want you,” I breathe. “I need you.”
“Can you handle me? Last night…”
“Forget last night. Fuck last night. Last night doesn’t matter. I felt different. Right now… I want to be in control.”
James is beneath me in a flash. I straddle his legs and shoot him a desirous smile as I reach through his trousers and pull his cock out.
It’s full and thick and pulsing with blood. It feels alive and amazing and rock hard in my hand. I stroke him quickly, communicating the speed I want to go at.
His eyes fill with lust. He tugs my panties aside.
I position him at my entrance. The head of his cock rubs against my wet folds. I roll my hips, teasing him with the movement.
But I’m also testing the waters for myself. I have to know I’ll be able to handle him.
I think I can.
James’s eyes widen when I sink down onto him. I go all the way. He fills me to the absolute max, but unlike last night, when it was painful, this time, it’s perfect.
He grips my hips. Our eyes meet. He gives the slightest of nods.
I start to bounce my hips. He groans in pleasure. I get lost in the moment and speed up. I ride him hard and fast. I moan and give way to ecstasy. It ripples through me with every glide of his thick, full penis. He fills me, and I shudder against him.
He grabs my hair and pulls me down. He seals my mouth with a heated, lustful kiss. My hands go to his chest for balance. He tugs me closer and deepens our connection. Our tongues swirl against each other, and I ride him hard.
I get only the briefest of warnings before the orgasm hits. It rushes into me and explodes against my body. I cry out and shatter into a million pieces around James. Then I hear his roar, and feel his hot cum filling me. My core clenches around him. I extract every last bit of pleasure from the climax—his and mine.
I fall forward against him. That weakness is back, but it’s nothing compared to the bliss I feel. I stay on him for just a moment longer, loving the extra connection between our bodies. He looks at me with lazy eyes and smiles. Then he brushes my hair out of my face and peers up at me, full of adoration and bewilderment and love.
“You truly are the one for me,” he whispers. My heart swells at the declaration. “And I want you to be mine forever, Celeste.”
A tiny bit of sadness seeps into my soul. But I smile back and kiss him lightly. “I will be, James. For as long as I’m here.”
22.
We clean up and shower together. I have no appetite for breakfast, despite it previously being my favorite meal of the day.
I look at the hanging clock. Two hours until my appointment.
James sees me looking. “I’m coming with you,” he says. “I want to know the second you do.”
I nod absently. “Okay,” I say.
In truth, I was really wondering where Summer is.
“Do you want to go back to my place?” he asks. Then he seems to catch himself and chuckles. “My other place, I mean.”
“Actually, I think I’d rather wait for Summer.”
“Did you two talk last night?”
“Yeah.”
James waits for me to say more, but I’m not ready to volunteer extra information.
“Okay,” he finall
y nods. “So—here or there?”
“Actually…” I hesitate. I don’t need James here when Summer returns, but I don’t want him to think I’m pushing him away again. “Actually, I’d rather wait for her. But there was a lot said last night, so do you think…”
“You want me to give you two some privacy,” he finishes for me.
“Yes,” I breathe in relief. “That would be perfect, James. Do you mind?”
“I don’t like leaving you,” he begins. “But no. I’ll let you girls talk.”
I rub his arm. “Thanks for understanding.”
“Do you want me to come back for you? I can drive you to the hospital.” He glances out the window. The sky is clear but there’s frost on the windows indicative of the outside cold. “I know it’s close but I’d rather you not walk.”
I smile. “You’re sweet. Yes, you can come back for me.”
“K.” James plants a peckish kiss on my lips. “I’ll be down by the entrance in two hours. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t,” I promise him.
He picks up his jacket and leaves me alone in the apartment.
23.
As soon as James is gone, I pour myself a cup of coffee. I know I’m supposed to avoid stimulants unless absolutely necessary, especially after my last run-in with caffeine, but the effects of sleeping so little last night are starting to kick in.
I shelter the mug in my hands and let the warmth of it fill me.
I sit down and take out my phone. I wonder what’s taking Summer so long. I check for messages from her. There are none.
I hope she’s not avoiding me.
I text her.
Me: Hey, when are you coming home?
It rings a second later. I jump, startled.
She never answers so quickly.
I look at the caller ID and see that yeah, she’s calling.
I pick up right away. “Hey, Summer.” I begin, full of excitement.
“Ms. Adams?” A monotone female voice speaks in my ear. It’s not Summer.
“Yes?” I say, confused.
“Hi. I’m Officer Melissa Cooper with the Chicago Police Department. There’s been an accident.”
Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set) Page 157