Chapter 14 Lucy #3
“A vasectomy?” Marsh offers, and I nod. “Yeah, I, uh…I just couldn’t deal with the idea of going through that again.”
I sit with this information. Marsh has been able to heal since that time, but just finding this out causes my heart to lodge in my stomach. “Thank you for telling me that,” I say softly.
“Thank you for listening,” he says.
He starts playing the movie, and the heavy cloud over us begins to lift as we’re transported into another world. A world where no matter the circumstance, the two characters you invest in will be okay.
Once Roy Orbison’s infamous guitar notes start playing and Julia Roberts begins to transform into a pretty woman, I tug on my sleeves, making myself a little more comfortable. Marsh turns to me, half his face illuminated by the TV.
“Want a blanket?” Marsh reaches over to the other couch and grabs a throw blanket, placing it over both of us.
As we get comfortable, my knees slightly fall over his thigh.
The lack of contact actually felt awkward and now it makes sense.
Marsh wraps an arm around me and rubs my shoulder.
It’s getting difficult to focus because his laundry detergent smells so damn fresh, I want to snuggle under his arm like a teddy bear wrapped in a towel.
I lean into Marsh, and I feel his breath hitch. I can tell his heart’s beating faster and mine is too.
“Marsh,” I whisper.
“Yeah,” he says. His voice low, deep.
“I can’t concentrate.”
“Neither can I.”
I take a heavy inhale and adjust myself so I’m now facing him.
He turns and there’s a look in his eyes—he wants me.
I know he does. We keep our gaze locked on each other, and I place a hand on his shoulder.
Slowly, I take my left leg and swing it over so I’m hovering over him, almost straddling his body.
All the soul sharing was new territory for me, something I’m unfamiliar with.
But this…using our bodies, this feels natural.
Marsh places both of his hands on my hips, and keeping his eyes locked on mine, guides me down to sit on his lap.
My eyes shut once I settle, and I can already feel how hard he is beneath me.
It feels too good that I subtly roll my hips to feel a little more in all the right places, and Marsh leans his head back on the couch.
I grind a little deeper, partially because I love how it feels, and partially because I want to see how good I can make him feel.
“Lucy,” he says under his breath.
As I continue to move, Marsh’s hands travel to my ass.
His entire palm is covering both of my cheeks, but I want to tell him more.
I want more. I don’t even know what I want, I just want more of him.
My hands rake down his chest, and I roll my hips farther, this time letting out an uncontrollable whimper.
I take one of his hands and place it under my cardigan.
“Lucy,” he groans again when he feels my breast covered by only a thin layer of fabric. My head rolls back in pleasure when he gently squeezes.
When I finally open my eyes, Marsh’s gaze holds mine.
His pupils wide, his breath grating. His hand lifts to the side of my face, and a thumb lightly rubs against my cheek.
Neither one of us escalates the situation.
My body has relaxed onto his and he’s sitting back, simply looking at me, taking me in.
“What now?” he gets out in a low rumble.
“I don’t know.”
All it takes is looking into Marsh’s eyes to know we’re on the same wavelength. He knows whatever happened tonight isn’t normal for me, and I know it’s not easy for him to open up. Neither one of us wants to ruin a good thing. We can’t ruin a good thing.
I slowly move my leg and get back to my original position. Marsh takes the blanket and drapes it over both of us, then pulls me close into him. I rest my head on his arm, and we continue to watch the movie.
The Two Words I’ve Never Said to Any Man…Until Now
By Lucy Reid
August 25
Remember when Michael Moscovitz apologized to Princess Mia Thermopolis with a pizza that read SORRY written in M&M’s? Couldn’t be me.
The beauty about casual dating is never having to say you’re sorry. Never having to repair something that doesn’t need to be fixed. If anyone makes a mistake, we move on. No person is worth ordering a whole SORRY pizza and making a spectacle of yourself, right?
I’ve now been seeing my mystery man long enough where I think I can call him…
drumroll please: my boyfriend. My boyfriend and I got into a little bit of a misunderstanding over the weekend.
I wouldn’t call it a fight by any means, but there was definitely a point of contention.
Surprisingly, instead of waking up the next morning and wanting to hide under a rock, I wanted to make things right.
For the first time, I’m with someone who makes me feel like it’s okay to admit I’m wrong. For the first time, I’m with someone I want to fight for. The commonly used expression is indeed correct: The best things in life are worth fighting for.
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