Contusion

by Ofelia Martinez

  His hand floats upward to my breast, and he caresses me over my sports bra. His fingers wander and trail down my abdomen until they land on my scars. He traces the scars as he studies them, and I turn to the ceiling, not wanting to see his reaction. A rejection would hurt too much.

  The heat of his mouth covers each scar, one by one, as he dusts kisses between them. His mouth leaves my body for only a second. “My little fighter,” he whispers and continues to kiss and lick my body. I look down at him, kissing my abdomen. I stare at his red hair, and I run my fingers through it, encouraging him.

  “Rory?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Make love to me,” I plead.

  His body stills. “I have plans for you, Valentina. I promise. But I’m not making love to you.”

  I step away from him and search for my discarded shirt. “What?” I knew it was too good to be true. I knew it was too much to ask. Why did I ever think this could work? The hot woman he had sex with is long gone, and this is all that is left of her.

  “No. Come here.” He takes my hand and forces me to sit on his lap so he can look me dead in the eye. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he says.

  He’s worried about hurting me? I take a moment to consider that. “You won’t hurt me.”

  He shakes his head, then smiles sexily. “I have many filthy ideas . . . Oh, Valentina, the things I will do to you . . . don’t worry—”

  “No, Rory. I—um—I mean, you can do those things too, but I want you to make love to me—”

  “Valentina, I can’t hurt you. I won’t do it.”

  “Why do you think you’ll hurt me?”

  “You are all scarred inside from radiation. It’s too soon.”

  I cock my head to the side to study him. He thinks I can’t take his massive size. I grab onto his shoulders for support.

  When I first concluded treatment, I told Dr. Ramirez my sexual life was a priority to me. She immediately got me started on dilator therapy to stretch me. The first and smallest dilator almost had me quit, but I pushed on. Months passed, and I kept with my therapy until I graduated to a larger dilator, then a larger one, until Dr. Ramirez suggested I graduate to a full-size vibrator.

  Rory knows nothing of this. He was no longer a part of my life during that time post-treatment.

  “You won’t hurt me, Rory,” I plead with him.

  “We are not having penetrative sex, Valentina. I won’t hurt you. I can’t do that.”

  “Rory—”

  “No. We can eventually get there. For now, there are plenty of things we can do to each other.” He pulls me to him and whispers in my ear, “I promise I’ll please you.”

  It’s hard to pull away, but I do. “Will you just listen to me for one second.”

  Rory’s lips disappear into a thin line, but he nods.

  My face bursts into flames at having to discuss this at the worst of possible times, but it has to be done.

  “I started dilator therapy as soon as treatment wrapped up.”

  Rory winces. “That sounds painful.”

  “It was at first. But that’s what the therapy is for. I’ve kept up with it, Rory. I’m fairly certain I can take you.”

  He shakes his head. “I can’t risk hurting you. Can you see my point of view here?”

  “So long as we use plenty of lube, I’ll be fine.”

  “No—”

  “Rory, I want you. Do you want me?”

  “I do, but—”

  “Then can we at least try?”

  He kisses me again, long and deep, leaving me breathless, and I forget what we are even arguing about for a moment.

  “You’re killing me, woman.”

  I grin at him.

  “Fine,” he says. “But only on one condition.”

  “Okay, what’s the condition?”

  “You promise you’ll tell me if you’re in pain. The minute it becomes too painful, we stop. That’s the only way I’d be willing to try.”

  I suck in a breath. He is only trying to take care of me, even if this conversation spoils the moment’s sensuality. I have to remind myself he is an expert and has seen it all. I try not to take it personally—this is not a rejection of my new body.

  He loves me.

  Everything he is doing—everything he is saying—is because he loves me.

  The least I can do is reassure him.

  “I promise I’ll let you know if I’m in pain.”

  “Thank you,” he says.

  His hands snake around the back of my head until his fingers tangle in my hair. His mouth leaves mine only so he can lick and bite my neck playfully. The feel of his lips and tongue on my skin sends goosebumps of recognition down my body. His touch feels better than what I remembered.

  We needed to have that conversation, but it didn’t seem so bad once it was over. If anything, I think Rory and I now have a deeper understanding of the other’s needs. It was embarrassing—I wanted to burrow my head into the dirt—but now there is nothing left to get in the way.

  Rory’s hands slide down my spine until he finds my bra strap and unclasps it. I spring free, and my muscles twitch with the reflex to cover my chest, but I don’t. I have to let Rory in if I intend to say yes—because I really want to.

  “Valentina,” Rory whispers as he studies my body. I stand, and we keep undressing each other.

  I’m shy in a way I’ve never been before. I know he senses my trepidation because he moves slowly, gently.

  I lose my balance as he pulls me into him, and I land on his lap again, straddling him.

  He runs a hand through my hair. “It’s growing in great. I love it. You look beautiful.”

  My cheeks feel three-hundred degrees, and I bury my face in his neck.

  “You mentioned lube?” He asks.

  “Yeah, it’s in the nightstand.” I reach for the drawer and pull out the bottle and a condom, setting both items next to us.

  I stand to help Rory out of his boxer-briefs, and I gulp when he springs free.

  “We don’t have to—“ he says softly.

  “No, it’s fine. You promised me we could try.”

  He nods, but his brows are drawn inward, and his face is twisted with concern.

  I take some lube in my hand and wrap it around his shaft, stroking him slowly. His face instantly relaxes, and his eyes draw shut. I can only hope I’ve broken through his concern.

  “Valentina,” he says my name in a raspy voice.

  “Yes?”

  “That feels so good.”

  “Does it?”

  “Mmm-hmmm.”

  “Open your eyes, Rory.”

  He obeys and watches me take more lube. I return one hand to him, and his eyes widen when he sees me starting to pleasure myself with the other.

  “Fuuck,” he growls. “That is so hot, baby.”

  I take his mouth in mine so I can lead him to lie on his back and position my entrance over his hardness. I give it one last squeeze, and I swear it hardened even more in my grip.

  “You promised,” he pleads one last time.

  “I promised. Let me drive; I know best how much I can handle.”

  Rory nods and lays perfectly still. So still, I almost laugh. This is not the time to tease him, though, so I keep it in.

  He is a bit larger than my vibrator, but not by much. I would never admit I searched for a toy that resembled his anatomy, but I also couldn’t deny the similar size.

  I place my hands on his chest for support. Taking a deep breath, I brace myself and take the tip of him inside. I say a silent prayer this won’t be painful because I want nothing more than Rory Dennis filling me to the hilt at this moment.

  Dilator therapy isn’t sexy. I hadn’t felt sensual since the last time I was with Rory. But with just one look at him naked, my libido reared its head, and there is no way I want to tame it again.

  I lower further until he is halfway in me, and so far, no pain. I take in another inch slowly, then another, and keep going unt
il there is nothing left to take in. Rory bucks his hips upward once.

  “Sorry, so sorry,” he stammers. “I couldn’t help it.”

  I shake my head. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

  “You are?” He looks up at me, so hopeful, I’m not sure I could tell him I was in pain even if I was. Lucky for me, there is no pain, and I don’t have to lie.

  I hadn’t realized how tight I had clenched every muscle in my body. I relax and loosen myself. I clench experimentally around him, earning me a sexy growl from Rory.

  “How does it feel?” he asks.

  “Good,” I say. “Really good.” I circle my hips slowly, and Rory’s hands drift up to grip my waist.

  I grin down at him and lick my lips. I support myself with his chest as I ride him until I am spent, and our bodies are slicked with sweat. I know Rory strained himself, trying to keep still so I could have my way with him, and it took a toll on him too—his face and neck are pearled with sweat.

  The room feels hotter, and my hair is nearly dripping with sweat. We are weak with exhaustion when Rory presses his thumb against my clit, and I shamelessly grind against it while he’s inside me. I unravel around him as I come and collapse on his body. Rory pumps inside me twice more and steels with his own release. He rolls his head back, giving me a glorious look at his neck and the veins that bulge with his pleasure.

  I pant to the rhythm of his chest rising.

  “So, no pain,” Rory says with a breathy voice.

  I shake my head. “Only pleasure.”

  In the morning, I watch Rory as he sleeps in. It’s been hours, and he has the sweetest little snore. I manage to get out of bed and back in again without him so much as stirring.

  It’s late morning when he finally wakes. “Hmmm,” he moans.

  “Good morning,” I say.

  He smiles. “Morning. How’re you feeling?”

  “Great.”

  “Great?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I say.

  “I need the truth, Valentina. Please.”

  “Very slightly sore. But no pain. I swear.”

  Rory smiles and draws circles on my shoulder with the pads of his fingers. “Good,” he says.

  He rolls up and over me so he’s on top, and he kisses me. “Now,” he says. “Almonte, what is it you need to think about to say yes?”

  My face falls to the side, and Rory pushes it back by my chin, so I look at him. “If we get married, I’d like our marriage to be one of good communication. That starts now.”

  I blink. He is right. After last night, I don’t think there’s anything I couldn’t talk to him about. I bite my lip. “Lots of things,” I say.

  “Okay.” He kisses me gently, urging me to go on.

  “I wanted to be with you last night so you could change your mind if you didn’t like it.”

  Rory’s eyebrow raises. “Did it look like I didn’t like it?”

  I giggle. “Right. Well, I guess that’s a non-issue, then.”

  “Good. One down. What else?”

  “I can’t give you children,” I admit.

  That gives Rory pause, though I’m sure he had to know. He rolls off me and onto his side next to me, so we face each other. “Do you want children, Valentina?”

  I shrug one shoulder. “That’s not a future I ever envisioned, but when Dr. Ramirez asked about freezing eggs, I declined.”

  “Why?”

  “It didn’t seem important. There are so many children without parents—I guess I figured if I ever really wanted children, it wouldn’t be important if they were biological. I’d rather give good parents to a kid with none.”

  Rory tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Valentina Almonte, you couldn’t be more fucking perfect if you tried.”

  My eyes search his, and he smiles at me.

  “Rory, don’t lie to me. If children are important to you, this can’t work—“

  “They are important to me. And I intend to have them. With you. And they will be adopted, but they will be our children, same as if we made them the other way.”

  I laugh. “The other way?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He has already thought about this. Of course he has. Even if he didn’t have access to my medical chart, he had to have known I’d more than likely fried my ovaries despite how hard we tried saving them. “You don’t mind, then, if you can’t have a child of your own blood?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “My children will be mine because they were meant to be. Just like you’re meant to be their mom.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  “Okay?” Rory’s eyes are wide.

  “I’m not saying yes yet.”

  “What else do you want from me, woman?” We both laugh at his frustration.

  “For one, I’d like a proper proposal. Preferably not in a locker room surrounded by the smell of feet.”

  “Noted. Won’t happen again. Is that it, then? Are you saying yes?”

  I shake my head. “I’d like to live together a little while first. Make sure we both want this and that we’re committed to spending a lifetime together, because if I marry you, Rory Dennis, it’ll be for life.”

  Rory smiles wide. “We can live together for a while first. I’m okay with a long engagement.”

  I turn to face away from him so he can spoon me because I don’t want to see his face for what I’m about to tell him next.

  “I have to confess something,” I say.

  “What’s that?”

  “While you were sleeping, I called my sister.”

  “Okay—“

  “She wants to have you over for dinner. Meet you.”

  “That’s not so bad. Why do you sound nervous all of a sudden?”

  “She didn’t say, but I’m pretty sure she intends to have my parents over.”

  “Oh.”

  Chapter 23

  “I don’t approve,” says Dad. Rory is on the other side of the room, talking with Pilar. Dad’s eyes are narrow as he looks at him and swirls the whiskey in his glass.

  “I know,” I smile and am surprised at how relaxed I am. I’m done caring. I no longer have to live my life for anyone other than myself.

  “You know?” Dad asks.

  “I know, Dad, but things are different now. Now it’s about what I want. Not about what you or Mom want,” I say matter-of-factly.

  He’d never admit it, but I swear I saw the hint of a smile on the corner of Dad’s mouth.

  “Does he make you happy?” Dad asks

  “He really does,” I say.

  Dad lands a peck on my cheek and walks back to his place next to Mom, but he seems happy in a way I’m not accustomed to seeing him.

  Rory couldn’t believe my sister’s house. I hadn’t seen it from an outsider’s perspective in a long time. From his eyes, my world is new and filled with a wonder I have long taken for granted.

  “Is she royalty or something?” Rory had asked as we'd walked up to the door.

  Pilar’s house is almost a palace. Her life lacks love from her partner, but in many ways, she has everything most women dream of—the perfect home and husband. My parents are happy and approve of her life, and I’m glad they have someone to approve of because I know it will never be me.

  “He’s great,” Pilar whispers when she comes over to me. Rory is talking to Felipe about the home’s architectural elements, even though I know Rory is faking it.

  “I know,” I say. “I’m happy.”

  “Are you?”

  “What? Happy? Yeah, Pili. I’m happy in a way I never thought was possible. I only hope one day you can find that same level of happiness.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you really think Felipe is your happiness?”

  Pilar’s body stiffens, and I can decipher to the second the moment when her guard comes up. “This night is about you,” she says. “Leave me out of it just this once. Please?”

  I bite my lip. “I’m sorry,” I say, and I
am. This night is for Pilar to get to know Rory, and I have to keep reminding myself of that.

  A maid announces dinner, and we all make our way to the dining room table.

  Mom is a freaking painting. Beautiful, but a mere ornament on Dad’s arm. Felipe and Dad monopolize the conversation, and I squeeze Rory’s hand under the table. I whisper reassurances that him not feeding into their superficial bravado is perfectly fine.

  “So, Rory, how much longer is your residency?” Felipe asks.

  “Two more years” says Rory.

  “That soon?” Felipe asks.

  “Yeah. If all goes well—”

  “And your plans after that?” Dad asks.

  Rory clears his throat and swallows the bite of steak he is on. “Well, I’m not really sure. We have to decide where we want to live first—”

  “Well,” says Dad, “You’ll be taking my daughter with you. I don’t quite see how it would work for you to move here—”

  I jump in. “Dad! Can we please not talk about this?”

  Dad throws me a stern look of warning. “What? It’s perfectly natural for your family to worry—“

  “No, Dad. It’s not. Things are different now. Everything’s changed.”

  Dad shifts in his seat but has the decency not to comment further.

  “Dad, I’m sorry,” I say. “I just . . . I have to make my own choices.”

  “You always have,” Dad says.

  He looks at me but with no remorse. It’s a fact. A simple fact. If he couldn’t tame me before my outlook on life changed, he could never manage it now.

  It’s a relief when Dad changes the subject. He and Felipe turn their attention to business. Mom eats dinner, dainty and quiet for the most part.

  Pilar can’t stop smiling as she looks between Rory and me. We can’t stop smiling ourselves.

  Dad’s passiveness the rest of the evening surprises everyone. Pilar and I half expected he would blow a gasket at my choice in a mate, but he doesn’t. Dad had wanted me to marry an important businessman, lawyer, or politician from Mexico. Someone with influence. Someone who would add a certain type of value to the family that Dad craves. In the end, I think he sees how much I smile around Rory, how he holds me protectively by his side. There’s also not a chance he has forgotten everything Rory did when I was in treatment even though he had absolutely no obligation to help.