by L. R. W. Lee
“Yes, that’s definitely top secret.”
He laughs, then strokes my hair. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” His words are filled with emotion.
I’m left speechless because there’s loneliness and longing and a mix of I’m not sure what else in his eyes, but it cuts me at the core.
Another flash of lightning lights the sky a second later as the rain keeps coming down.
He takes my hand in his and leads me over to the green-cushioned sofa.
“Have you always felt alone?” I ask, sitting.
He puts an arm around me, and I snuggle against his side. “For eons I didn’t know it. I had secrets to seal that kept me busy. I added the Core to help me manage it all at some point, but I still didn’t acknowledge the…” He pauses, looking for words. “… emptiness. It was so deep that it was more a sense than anything. If someone had asked me, I wouldn’t have been able to put it into words.”
I run my hand along his thigh, across his wet pant leg, and confess, “Loneliness and I are old friends, too.”
He squeezes me. “I know.” He opens his mouth to say more, but then closes it again.
“What? Tell me.” A shiver shakes me. I’m not surprised with my soaked clothes, but that’s all it takes to break the moment of transparency—from the God of Secrets, no less—because Harpoc nudges me to sit up.
Blasted cold.
The air around me warms despite the rain that continues coming down in buckets, and my clothes suddenly feel dry and warm, like I just pulled them out of the dryer. But he’s not done, because he dries my hair, too.
“Thank you.” That feeling of being cared for settles over me again, and I can’t help but lean in and kiss him.
He matches my enthusiasm, and kissing turns into more because his hand soon burrows under my T-shirt, and I can’t believe it, but I don’t want him to stop. He makes his way upward and every inch of skin he brushes ignites until he’s cupping one breast and then the other.
I’ve never had feelings like these for anyone before. I’m falling for him; I know I am. There’s no denying it.
He nudges me back and lays me down on the green cushion and I know what’s coming next when he looks into my eyes. He’s again asking permission for more.
“You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” His words from before dance around my brain. Call me a sentimental lush, but his words along with his actions leave me feeling cared for.
It’s strange and unfamiliar.
He’s a god, but he’s lonely just like me. The thought makes me stop thinking about my body and my feelings of inadequacy for the first time in my life.
Instead, I focus on him and nod my consent.
His lips find mine and a minute later, I raise my arms and he slips my hoodie and T-shirt off. Never in my life did I expect to be topless… especially outside, but any discomfort fades as he fondles and suckles and caresses me.
Topless, I feel freer than I ever have.
We’re two lonely souls connecting.
As he lavishes not just my body, but me… yes, me… with affection, the accumulation of his words since we met, said in sincerity and awe, along with his caring actions, work their way deeper and deeper, through the hard, protective layers of my heart that I’ve built over the years.
For the first time, ever, I don’t shoot them down. They aren’t insincere, manipulative, or disingenuous, the usual buckets I file compliments in. I know that.
And so I don’t put up a fight when they dive, going deep, for my very soul. I let Harpoc’s words plunder and pillage without restraint. They’re brutal as they ravage the self-hatred and loathing I’ve harbored about my body, then hack down the doubts I’ve nurtured about my worth.
Tears well up, then overflow.
Harpoc leans back, his face lined with worry, but I shake my head. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
Reluctantly, he leans back in and continues lavishing my body—he practically worships it—with more and more tenderness than I’ve ever known.
Crying turns to sobbing. His affection for me feels limitless.
I’ve no idea how long it is, but it’s at least several minutes before I take a deep breath, trying to stop the spasms that follow a good cry.
Harpoc sits back, then his hand starts lightly brushing my cheeks, drying the flood of tears.
“Tell me.” As with his affection for my body, his words are filled with gentleness.
“All that you’ve said and done…” I swallow before I start crying again. “… they hit me like a sledgehammer.”
He takes another pass at my wet cheeks, and the tenderness nearly starts me crying again.
I shake my head and sniff. “I let your words... I let them sink in.”
He closes his eyes savoring my words. “I don’t deserve you, thank you.”
He’s said the same, more than once.
He kisses my nose. “I’ll have to dry your clothes more often.”
I can’t help but laugh; it’s soggy sounding, but it feels good. “I’ll take you up on that.”
“As often as you like.” Affection swells in his eyes as he takes in all of me.
For the first time, I feel no shame.
I knew you could do it, Pell.
I don’t know if my inner minion’s been silent or whether I’ve just been too overwhelmed with emotion to hear her, but hearing the affirmation, affirmation that I know is from my inner me, helps cement what feels like a breakthrough. She’s encouraged me before, but this time… this time I accept.
It is, Pell. It is a breakthrough.
It stopped raining sometime while I was losing it and being remade, and the sun is out. Talk about a metaphor. I can’t make this stuff up. Life is crazier than fiction sometimes, but I’ll take it.
Harpoc hands me my T-shirt and hoodie. “You wanted to try tripskipping.”
“I do.” I look around the manicured lawn which is dry of the deluge we just endured. “Will we be doing it here?”
“It’s why I dried the grass.”
I’m not exactly an exhibitionist, but tasting freedom from self-deprecating narratives for the first time in my life is addictive. I don’t pretend to believe I’ve mastered it, but I won’t soon forget the taste of freedom, and I don’t want to feel restricted in any way, shape or form. “You said no one can come here without your permission?”
Harpoc furrows his brow as I stand. “That’s right.”
I leave my clothes on the sofa and take his hand. “Then teach me.”
His eyes light up, and he strips his T-shirt off and throws it on top of mine.
What a guy. What a chest. Hubba-hubba.
Aw, Pell…. My inner minion groans.
So much for keeping her happy.
“We don’t have to stop at our shirts.” He grins, flexing his toned chest. His infinity rose tattoo ripples along with it.
I crack up. “Let’s try topless tripping first.” He chuckles as he always does at my use of the word tripping in lieu of tripskipping. “But who knows, maybe we’ll eventually graduate to strip tripping.”
He howls with laughter, clearly anxious to give it a try, then puts his hand on my bare back and directs me just a few feet away from the canopied area so that the whole of the manicured grassy space is before us, giving me plenty of room.
I won’t deny, I like the feel of his hand on my bare back.
I feel so free.
“Unlike with directing your magic,” Harpoc says, “I’ll need to be right next to you as you learn to tripskip in case something goes wrong. I’d hate to have you disappear and be unable to find you.”
My eyes go wide. “Is that likely?”
“It’s happened.” He doesn’t smile.
Oh, boy.
He turns to face me, but looks over my shoulder, like he’s nervous, and I furrow my brow.
“I’ll also—” His Adam’s apple bobs. “—need you to give me temporary authority over your personal magic.” He quickly adds, “So
I can undo anything that goes wrong.”
“Because my personal magic trumps yours.” I remember one of the principles he taught me, but I’m clearly not understanding the significance because this big, bad god still looks uneasy.
“You’re not as powerful as me, so it probably isn’t a problem, but I will never force myself on you.” His jaw tenses, and I know he means it.
Magic is still a novelty to me so it’s not even a thought that he might have to force himself on my magic if something goes wrong. The fact that he says what he does, touches my heart.
I’ve jokingly tracked his instances of male chivalry, but I think this is a better measure of him, making me aware of concerns I have, that I don’t know about.
I turn and run my hand along his clean-shaven cheek. “Thank you for thinking of that when I hadn’t.”
He takes my hand and kisses it, then gives me an easy nod, like it’s a given that he’s looking out for me.
It’s no given in my book.
I drop my hand to his firm chest, still looking up at his beautiful eyes. He’s still tense, and my stomach quivers.
“Magic is very personal, Pell.” His eyes connect with my gaze and he swallows. “As you get to know it better, you’ll discover that it’s a mirror of you.”
It makes sense.
He squeezes my bare shoulder.
I’m still not understanding something important, it’s clear.
“Pell, granting another authority over your magic… is considered a very intimate act.”
Very intimate? My mouth goes dry, and I lick my lips.
I’ve been worried about him seeing my chest, but this feels a whole lot deeper than that.
“Like how intimate?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
I bite my lip. I can’t help it because the moment just got really raw.
I don’t pretend to understand the full depth of what Harpoc’s saying, but the seriousness with which he’s telling me communicates much, and my breathing labors.
I try to put into words what I’m hearing. “So you don’t give anyone you don’t trust implicitly, authority over your magic.”
He shakes his head, and his gaze scans the manicured lawn over my shoulder again, like he’s searching for words, before returning to me. “Trust is a part, but not the whole. Your magic is you, and you are your magic. Anyone who accesses your magic… will know you intimately.” He will know me intimately, my brain adds.
Intimately. Intimate. Vulnerable.
It’s not something I’ve ever wanted, much less been, with anyone; although Harpoc definitely wants to head down that path with his wanting me to know the real him.
I’m still not clear why.
Regardless, I’m falling for him.
I rub his breast, “What does ‘intimate’ mean exactly, in this case?”
He stills my hand above his heart. “It’s not a memory dump, per se, but rather an in-depth sensing of your emotions—feelings of insecurity, hurt, rejection, loneliness. It reveals the breadth of them, but it also reveals the frequency that the various feelings affect you.”
“And with frequency, you’ll know me intimately.”
He nods.
“Will I know you intimately, too?” I ask, toeing an edge of a marble inlay.
“It doesn’t work that way.”
I ponder that for a minute. Intimate.
This is a different kind of intimacy than standing here topless. I’ve told him only the smallest parts of my past to this point, but if I do this, he’ll know how often I camp on insufficiency and loneliness.
“If I hadn’t had the breakthrough I just did, would you…”
He gives me a warm smile, still holding my hand against his chest. “I would have suggested I teach you how to fly first.”
I look away and blow out a breath. I understand only enough to know this is a big step.
“There’s no pressure or rush, Pell,” he adds. “Only if you feel ready.”
I slide my hand out from under his and turn. It’s my choice.
Harpoc just watches me as I scan the grassy enclave.
I’m sick of this timid, cowering Pell; my breakthrough proves it. I run a hand across my bare chest. I’m one tough bitch, and it’s time I act like it in every area of my life because cowering is anything but freedom.
Pell… my inner minion’s voice rises as she gets wind of what I’m considering.
Maybe I’m still riding high from the breakthrough, but I’m ready to explore freedom further.
Pell, you hate what he does, all those secrets, the double standards he creates. How can you consider being more intimate with him?
Whether I should or not, I trust Harpoc implicitly.
Pell, no… there’s no going back. My inner minion’s not going to go down without a fight.
All the more reason to do this because it’s never been more clear that I’m the one who holds myself back.
I turn back and face him, fisting my hands on my hips. “What do I have to do to give you authority over my magic?”
Pell. My inner minion’s pissed.
Harpoc’s eyes go wide. It seems he didn’t think I’d do it.
It cements my decision even more. Never count me out.
He pulls me close, bare chest to bare chest, and envelops me in a hug, nuzzling my head, stroking my back.
I wrap my hands around his toned waist and lose myself in his fervor. He’s more emotive than I’ve ever seen him. It almost feels like my choice broke down some protective wall he’s been hiding behind, too, despite his declaration of wanting me to know the real him.
It’s a long minute before he loosens his hold.
“I…. No one….” Words stick in his throat.
I push back and look up to find silver lining his eyes.
I reach up and brush my thumb against the corner of one, then the other, wiping his tears.
He kisses my thumb when I pull it away, then bends and meets my lips with his, and I lean into the kiss, because no matter why this ancient god picked me, it doesn’t matter.
I choose him, right back.
It’s another long minute before he leans back. More tears have trickled down his cheeks, but he doesn’t wipe them away. It seems he’s comfortable with them. At least in front of me.
I don’t miss the meaning.
He’s never looked more beautiful to me.
“What do I need to do to give you authority over my magic?” I ask again, bringing him back.
He chuckles an easy chuckle and takes a deep breath. “Yes, let’s get your lesson started.”
“I think this lesson started a while ago… for both of us.”
“You’re right.” He clears his throat and glances about the space, gathering his thoughts.
“To give me authority over your magic, I need you to stand here.” He takes my shoulders and positions me directly in front of him.
I can’t deny I love the feel of his hands on my bare skin.
“We’ll lock our gazes, and you will command your magic to submit to mine. It sounds simple, but while you’re doing that, I will release my magic to mingle with yours, telling it to cherish yours.”
“Cherish? Secret magic can do that?”
“Absolutely.” His jaw tightens as if he will personally crucify his magic if it doesn’t play nice. “It’s critical that we don’t drop our gazes until my magic and yours are fully accepting of this arrangement.”
“Will my magic resist?”
“Probably. You’re sure you want to do this?”
I bob my head, then pull off my ring. “I am.”
He’ll know me intimately. It’s scary to think about, so I don’t. Rather, I focus on his gold and silver eyes as he locks his gaze with mine.
“Let your magic flow out of you, as much as wants to. Don’t constrain it in any way.”
“Submit to his magic,” I command as the first wisps appear.
Out of my periphery, dark swirls begin filling t
he air. There’s no need to constrain it, so I focus on his eyes just a foot away.
Despite how vulnerable we’ve been with each other, it feels like he’s too close at first, invading my personal space, and I want to look away.
“Keep your gaze locked with mine, Pell,” he says, as if reading my thoughts.
A wisp of shadows drifts between us, but I resist trading it for his gold and silver eyes.
One minute, then two pass and I don’t feel anything different with my shadows, not that I’m supposed to. Are they fighting his? I can’t tell.
Still we gaze into each other’s eyes. It’s getting a little easier even though it feels like he’s looking into the depths of my very soul. I suppose he is based upon what he said would happen, but I don’t feel anything.
Another minute, then another.
I wonder how much longer it will take, but I keep my eyes trained on his.
Another minute and thick shadows fill my periphery, blocking everything else—there’s no trees, no grass, only him.
I’d no idea what this intimacy, this laying myself bare to him, would feel like, but when I continue to feel nothing unusual, I decide to look more deeply into his eyes. What will I find?
I study the gold and silver. They are so like the eyes that always calm me. Incredibly similar. Maybe that’s why I’m not panicking. Maybe it’s why my inner voice is quiet.
I don’t find much by way of insight into Harpoc’s soul over another minute, then two, though. Surprise, surprise, but he did say it didn’t work that way.
At length, he leans forward, takes my face in his hands, and kisses me.
It’s nearly pitch dark with all the shadows, but I don’t need light to see the sparkle in his eyes.
“You are as beautiful inside as out,” he whispers. “There’s darkness, but there’s an equal amount of light, Pell. And it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
“That’s it? That’s all you saw, light and dark?”
“I saw details, insecurity, loneliness, self-hatred, but I also saw passion, determination, concern for others, inner strength, and more.”
His words make my heart speed because they’re not just idle words. He’s truly seen the real me. I didn’t think it would make me feel so self-conscious, but it does, and I shift.