Chapter 11 #2
“Thank you,” I choke out. “I… it’s hard to hear, but I accept it. I’ll try to.”
Her fingers trace over my scars, straight to my lips. “If I’m honest, I’d like you to kiss me with as much kickass reckless abandon as the music you listen to. All the passion that goes into those songs. It’s inspiring, isn’t it?”
“Quite,” I murmur as I pant against her fingers. I’m not ready to do what she asked. Not yet. I need just a moment to reconcile myself with the fact that I’m finished. I’m done. I haven’t been fighting this from the start.
I want her, and I want to be hers. For tonight and tomorrow.
A week. A month. A lifetime. However long I have.
However long this lasts. If I have anything to do with it, I’ll fight for it to last forever, changing and growing, finding ourselves and each other, and finding a way to live the hell out of life until we’re old.
I’m already old.
So much older.
But everything I’ve done and lived makes me who I am, and that’s the man Dulcie wants, just as I want her for exactly who she is.
“We work.” I don’t realize I’ve spoken out loud until she nods.
“We work,” she repeats in a whisper. “We’ll work,” she adds, with consideration for the future. A promise and a wish. “I know we don’t have any champagne in here, but if you could kiss me like you just spat it into my mouth, that would be amazing.”
“I didn’t spit it into your mouth. I’d drunk the last sip like an imbecile, and it was the only way I could think to share,” I say vehemently.
“Whatever. It was blisteringly fucking hot. A little bit out there, but I’m into it.”
Her other hand clutches my T-shirt to brace herself when she stands on her tiptoes. Then, she guides my face down and presses her lips to mine. She’s gentle, but not unsure.
“It’s okay,” she whispers against my lips. “We’re okay, Luca. You’re safe with me.” As always, she strips me down to my soul.
She doesn’t just see past the scars or the things that happen. She sees all of it. My beauty in her eyes encompasses everything.
She opens her mouth to say something, but I claim her lips, twining my hand through her hair to tilt her head back and kiss her the way I’ve always wanted to. Her face angles back, allowing me to trace her neck before I bracket it, supporting and cradling her head in my palm as I kiss her brutally.
She moans against me, over and over, feeding me the whispered sounds. She’s liquid in my arms, melting against me, but those sounds make me weak.
The first time I ever kissed her, I burned for her.
The second time, I was still bound by my fears and apprehension.
I was trying to do the right thing. The respectful thing.
Her parents didn’t exactly give their blessing…
and maybe I’m old-fashioned like that, but at least they know.
Because it’s more complicated than old-fashioned.
I can’t do something they’ll never forgive when I am here to make amends, not cause further destruction.
I tear my mouth from hers to slow myself down. I sweep her hair away from her neck and kiss the elegant column. Then, I trace my way down to her throat, kissing the hollow of her throat and trapping her fluttering pulse beneath my tongue.
She’s sweet, all the scents of the day wrapped up and clinging to her hair and skin.
A day we spent together.
She’s citrus and leather seats, open air and apple blackberry pie. Laughter and tears, apprehension and absolution.
And me.
She’s so close that she smells like me, and that stirs my animalistic instincts like nothing else ever could. I want to kiss and mark every inch of her skin.
Instead, my brain goes on a rampage of self-destruction.
Not for myself, but for her. I know time is just a construct, and I believe everything she’s said.
I know she’s brave and knows her own mind.
Just because she’s young doesn’t mean she’s not capable of knowing her heart or giving me her truth.
Things change. In a year or two, she might see things differently.
Fear is so limiting, and I don’t want to live in it.
I can handle pain, but I don’t want to be a mistake.
“I still have surgeries I have to get through,” I murmur against her skin, drinking her in, inhaling her, and wanting her to stay with me even though I’m trying to give her the tools and reason to choose something different.
“But even with all of them, I’ll never look like I did. I’ve said that before.”
“Yes.” She nuzzles my face, bringing her forehead to mine.
“You’re the kind of person who lights up everyone’s day. You value kindness, and you smile at strangers. I’ve seen you do it multiple times. You talked with the lady at the sub shop like you both were old friends, even though you told me you didn’t know her.”
She frowns. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No, it’s a wondrous thing.”
She slips down to look me in the eyes. “Then why are you saying it in that tone?”
My inhale scalds my insides, but they’ve already been shot full of holes. “I just don’t want you to throw your life away.”
She visibly recoils. “Luca.” My name in that devastated voice kills me. “Unless you think it’s a great thing to smash my heart into dust, don’t say that again.”
“In a few years, you might want kids.” I have to say this now.
Because I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t.
“It’s fine if you do, but one day, they’ll ask questions about my face.
Unless we hide away like hermits together, we’ll have to go out.
And there will always be questions and stares and mean things said. ”
She nods solemnly. “That’s true. We’ll just have to figure out a way to deal with it.
People might ask questions, and they might even stare, but it’s not always cruel.
If you think I’d ever be embarrassed or that I wouldn’t want to have children with you because they’d have you as a father, then that’s…
ugh.” She throws her arms around my neck and wraps herself around me until there’s no air and no room for my self-doubt and pity.
“I think teaching our children about people who might look different, think differently, or who are differently abled, and helping them learn how to spread love and awareness is something I’d be honored to do.
Even if we never have a family, I’d want to do that by your side. ”
She holds me tightly and just lets me breathe her in as we stand together.
She’s not going to pull apart or away. She’s here.
She crashed into my world and shifted it on its axis.
She’s the brightest light, the kindest soul, and the sort of woman who would inspire poetry and artists all over the world.
I’ve fought so hard for my life to remain the same, but she won’t let it.
I need to surrender the last of my resistance to her. What comes, comes. I am who I am, and she is who she is. We’re two imperfect people finding joy in that.
Emotion rattles through me, screaming like rusted hinges and rattling the cage of bones. I knew I was lonely before, but I didn’t realize just how crushingly and achingly empty it was.
I have no resistance left. I’m not a machine. I’m not stone. I’m a person, a human, a beating heart who needs her. “I’d like to do that by your side too.”
She smiles at me, one of those sunshine smiles that pierce straight into the lingering darkness in whatever shadowy corners I have left hiding in my soul.
She kisses her way over my scars to my lips. She means it to be light and playful, but the second our mouths meet, there’s no controlling the fire. I want her too badly to hold back, and she kisses me just as fiercely, hanging onto my shoulders for balance.
I was tempted to lose myself in her before, but now, this time, I allow it.
The world can fall away, but it’s alright.
We’ll make it through. All the pressures, stresses, and the last twenty-some years of my life fall away.
It’s just us. Two hearts. With Dulcie’s hands in my hair and her leg curling over mine while we’re still standing because she can’t get close enough.
Her nails scrape against my scalp, and my teeth sink into her lip. She pants and whimpers while I groan. She strokes my tongue with hers, growing more frantic. Our kisses are wild, our lips mashing together so hard that our teeth almost knock against each other.
She drops her hands from my hair and frantically searches for the bottom of my hoodie. She burrows her way under the T-shirt below, then lifts it all up and over my head together.
“I want to bite you,” she growls, baring her teeth.
On her, it’s sweet and sexy, but my mouth still goes bone dry. “Where?”
“All over.”
“And what degree of biting are we talking about?” I ask.
“Ones you’ll enjoy immensely,” she answers coquettishly.
She kisses the juncture of my shoulder and neck, finds the perfect spot, and lightly sinks her teeth in.
It’s not hard enough to even sting, but the way her tongue caresses the spot and her soft lips follow has me so fucking hard that my dick drills into my zipper painfully.
It’s such that the barrier of my boxers barely counts for anything.
She does the same to my shoulder and my pecs, then trails little bites over the stacked ladder of my abs.
“Fuck,” she breathes. “You’re so jacked, and your abs are insane. Insanely delicious. Look down and do that thing where you wink at me, so I can die happily.”
“Don’t die.” My breath hitches as her tongue travels over my lower abs, and her fingers run over the waistband of my jeans.
“I’m being dramatic,” she replies. “I have no plans on dying before I get on my knees and take you in my mouth.”
“O-oh. I… should… shower if you want to do that.”
Her head snaps up. “Should?”
“I was sitting on a bus all day. And it’s late. I’m sure things are not quite as fresh as they should be.”