Pink Shades of Words: Walk 2016 (35 page)

She beamed up at me. That was something I could definitely get used to as well. When she gave me that smile, I felt twice as tall, twice as strong, and twice as masculine and virile. Hell, if somebody could figure out how to take "Miche's Proud, Beaming Face" and convert it into a pill, they'd make billions. The feeling it gave me was indescribable and incomparable.

She threaded her hand through mine as we walked down the steep hill and then laid her head on my shoulder. "So, what do you think we should see? I mean, there are so many amazing San Francisco landmarks. The Golden Gate Bridge, obviously. Lombard Street. Ghirardelli Square. Fisherman's Wharf. Alcatraz."

"Do you have your heart set on anything?"

She squeezed my hand. "On the one hand, I'm kind of on the same page as you in terms of enjoying the day. As long as we're together, I'm having a fantastic time."

"But on the other hand?"

She giggled, and it held a joy and an abandon, a sense of excitement, I had never heard from her before. She sounded like a little kid being offered a choice between playing with all of her favorite toys, with every option so exciting that it was impossible to choose. It was adorable as fuck.

"I want to see it all!" she burst out, a hint of guilt underneath her animated tone, as if she were surprising herself by being so greedy.

I stopped and took her in my arms. "Then, baby, by God, we are going to see it all!"

She clapped her hands in front of her as her face lit up with a glow of pure and unadulterated anticipation, and it was maybe the cutest thing I had ever seen in my entire life. And I'd seen baby goats playing. In person.

We spent the rest of the day walking and Ubering to all the different sights Michelle wanted to see. While enjoying them, we snapped a ton of pictures of us in front of them for her to upload to Instagram. I knew I would copy those photos onto my computer when we got back to Arcata, no question. I wasn't even able to enjoy all the landmarks we were seeing during the day, breathtaking though they were. I only had eyes for Michelle. I couldn't tear my gaze away from her. Watching her face as she looked at amazing things was more fascinating and moving to me than the amazing thing itself could ever be.

As we rode the cable car for our last tourist-y activity of the day, I wrapped my arms around Miche and held her close to me, protecting her shivering frame from the chilly San Francisco evening air. She felt so delicate in my arms that I wanted to hold her forever, shield her from much more than just the cold—I wanted to protect her from every bad thing the world could ever throw at her. I wanted her to be able to exist only in the sheltering circle of my arms, where she was safe from any harm.

I gently kissed the top of her head, her silky-soft hair caressing my lips. "I noticed you took my advice."

She looked up, puzzled. "What advice is that?"

"Remember when I told you what was missing from your Instagram feed? What the only beautiful thing in your life that you were around every day was that you never posted?"

A blush crept up her cheeks, but she didn't answer. Instead, she faced forward again and snuggled into my arms. Then she gave my forearm a playful tap.

"Oh, stop."

"I'm serious!" I protested. "You are the most beautiful and fascinating thing I've ever seen, and on your social media account, which is entirely devoted to posting photographs of beautiful and fascinating things, I very rarely would ever see a picture of you. But all that's changed today. I think you're part of every single photo you've uploaded today. And I'm proud of you for that. That's all I'm saying."

She was quiet, and I hoped that I hadn't embarrassed her so much that she would clam up and end the conversation right there. I certainly didn't want a repeat of the other night in my dorm room. That two days of radio silence had been fuckin' torture. But, luckily, that wasn't the case this time.

After a moment, she said thoughtfully, "You know, I never wanted to be one of those girls that was constantly posting duck-lip selfies of themselves, as if their faces were the most interesting thing anyone might want to look at. So I think I just went the other way. I only posted beautiful photos of nature, scenery, books, food—all the little vignettes that made up my life. But what I didn't realize was that, by excluding myself from the record of my own life, I was sending a message. To the world, and to myself. That I didn't even deserve to be there. That I didn't live up to the things that were surrounding me. That I wasn't even good enough to be included in my own life."

It tore my heart out to hear her talking about herself like that. I wanted to shut it down, to stop her words of depreciation with my own words of encouragement and support. Or maybe even stop them with a kiss. Whatever it took.

I held myself back, though. She needed to work through this. But I could protect her by giving her a safe place to talk about what she was feeling, and I would do anything to protect her.
Anything
. Even shutting the hell up when everything inside me was screaming to tell her how amazing she was, that she deserved all the wonderful things life had to offer just as much—if not more—than anyone else did.

She shyly bit her lip and dropped her head, looking up at me through lacy eyelashes. Whatever she was about to say made her feel vulnerable. I knew it was coming straight from her heart.

"You changed all of that," she whispered. "Seeing myself through your eyes—that's what made me realize I deserve to be part of the action. I'll never be a duck-lips-selfie girl, but I damn well deserve to be in my own photographs. I deserve a place in my own life."

I kissed her, trying to express every ounce of pride and affirmation I felt through the act of pressing my lips to hers. "You do," I agreed, my voice tight with intensity. "You deserve a place in your own life. I'm so happy that you see that now. And, Miche, you deserve a place in mine too. So much. I want you there, more than anything. I only hope I can prove that I'm worthy of a place in yours too."

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C
HAPTER EIGHTEEN

Michelle

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M
y hand trembled as I slipped it into Sebastian's. This had been the most wonderful day of my life, bar none, and I was absolutely sure about what I was working up to say to him. Still, that didn't mean that it didn't take courage to say. It did. And, where he was concerned, having courage was a new experience for me.

I squeezed his hand and drew to a stop on the sidewalk. He halted in this tracks as well and turned to give me a questioning look.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

I took a few small steps closer so that I was pressed right up against him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and snuggled my shoulders into his chest, turning my head to the side and pressing my cheek to his chest. Being so bold would be easier if I wasn't looking directly at him.

"I was thinking," I murmured, my breathing speeding up.

"Mmmmm," he said, rubbing my back. "I like the way you said that. I can't wait to hear what you were thinking."

"Well..." I tried to keep my voice even, but a raspy quality was sneaking in. "Just because our rooms at the main hotel are off-limits because of roommates doesn't mean we couldn't rent another hotel room. You know, in a different hotel. Just for us."

"Wow," he said, that same rasping in his voice. "I definitely
did
want to know what you are thinking."

"So, does that sound like a good idea to you?"

"Abso-freaking-lutely!" he exclaimed.

"I mean, we couldn't sleep there," I hastened to qualify. "Even if we don't get caught for skipping out on the tournament today, we would definitely run the risk of getting reported by one of our roommates if we don’t go back to the hotel tonight, even if they weren't doing it to be mean. Even if they were just worried about us. I think that would be too risky."

"Agreed," he said reluctantly.

"And, also, it's kind of expensive to rent a hotel room for the whole night when we’re only going to be using it for a couple of hours." My voice was hesitant.

I wasn't sure, even as I kept spitting out more reasons why it might be a bad idea, why I continued giving him an easy outs or excuses not to do it. It wasn't that I didn't want to move forward with the plan—I most certainly did! I wanted to more than anything, as a matter of fact.

But maybe I needed to be sure he was just as on board with it as I was. Maybe I needed to know what he would be willing to sacrifice. Maybe I needed to know that, in his mind, I didn't come cheap, and that was okay with him.

He laughed, the incredulous tone in his voice setting my mind at ease. "Holy shit. Are you really talking about money? I don't care about money. Are you fucking kidding me? No matter what it costs, it's going to be worth every single goddamn penny and more."

I drew back and smiled up at him, his reaction having given me enough courage to look him in the face again. "Awesome," I said. "Let's go!"

We ducked into the lobby of the very next hotel we came across. Sebastian, like a true gentleman, got me settled in a comfortable seat in the lobby before going over to the front desk to check us in. Tingles of anticipation raced through my body as I watched him from that chair. He talked to the front desk clerk, pulled his wallet out, signed a slip of paper, and took the room key. That was
my
man, taking care of business, getting things squared away for us. Something about that was incredibly sexy to me. Electricity overtook my body and I couldn't wait to get upstairs.

When the heavy hotel room door ka-chunked shut behind us, the tiniest bit of nervousness crept back into my belly. I decided that it would be best to take decisive action, and quickly, in order to squelch it before it grew. Without walking around the room and inspecting our surroundings, I strode directly to the bed, stripping my T-shirt and bra off as I covered the ground in three long strides.

When I reached the edge of the bed, I turned and sat, scooting back and pulling at my feet so that I could unlace my boots. I met Sebastian's gaze and give him a naughty smile, but his eyes were firmly glued to my breasts. I laughed. Such a "guy" thing to do.

After I’d tossed my shoes and my socks aside, I hopped down from the bed and cocked my head to the side, placing my hands on my waist. "Well?"

He looked up then and did meet my gaze, his jaw slack and his eyes lost in a stuporous glaze. "Well what?" he said slowly, as if he were in a trance.

"Well," I said in a sultry, come-hither voice. "Aren't you going to help me do the rest?"

I didn't need to ask twice. He was by my side in a split second. I grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. Running my hands down his beautiful chest on the way back down, I marveled at the hard ridges of muscles underneath my fingertips. He was a perfect specimen of male humanity. Every contour of his pecs and his abs seemed like they had been sculpted out of marble. Warm, wonderful, inviting marble, that is.

He kicked his tennis shoes off and removed his socks, and then we were both standing in front of each other in nothing but jeans and bare feet, naked from the waist up. Although my original intention had been to get all of our clothes stripped off as quickly as possible—I could hardly wait to be naked with him—I became impatient and threw my arms around him, clinging to him. I needed to feel him against me. I needed his warm, hard chest against my soft, cushiony breasts and the sensitive tips at the end of each.

I needed his strong arms around me as our skin pressed together, with no barriers in between.

"Oh, God, Miche. You're so gorgeous. So beautiful. Fuck...your body—it's so amazing."

"Yeah, that's exactly what I want you to do," I teased.

He drew back and looked at me, confusion knitting his brow. "What?"

"That's what I want you to do," I clarified in a joking tone. "Fuck my body. Yes, please."

He laughed and then pushed me back on the bed. "Your wish is my command," he said, and then he began kissing his way down my body.

My brain was consumed by a fog of lust. I couldn't even form words, let alone jokes, as his mouth and his tongue trailed down my chest. Then he paused to pay special attention to my nipples before continuing on down my torso.

He gave me a sly smile as he unfastened my jeans. "I was thinking of seeing if I could manage a repeat performance," he said. "To see if I could make you come again without kissing anything but your tits. But then I thought, nah. Why not turn it into a challenge? See how many places on her body my tongue can make her come by kissing in one day?" With that, he yanked my jeans down over my hips and legs, pulled them off, and tossed them aside. "God, you're so beautiful," he breathed as he slipped my panties off in the same way.

He ran his fingers up and down the outside of my legs, up my sides, down my belly, and over my inner thighs. When he reached my knees, he paused then looked at me, a fire of lust burning in his eyes that shot straight to my core.

In a low, commanding tone, he said, "I'm gonna open your legs now. I want to see your pussy."

My voice caught in my throat, and I was unable to say anything or even grunt out assent. I simply nodded furiously. Then, with a powerful thrust, he pushed my knees wide open and knelt between them. I felt so vulnerable spread out there before him as he examined me. Yet, as I watched the awestruck look on his face, I also felt powerful and sexy. It was an intoxicating combination.

Without tearing his eyes from between my legs, he began to trail his fingers up and down my inner thighs again, making my legs shake with pent-up arousal and lust. "You're beautiful," he breathed. Then, still not averting his laser gaze, he said, "I'm gonna eat you now, baby. I need to know if you taste as delicious as you look."

He covered me with his mouth. I felt the hard, hot length of his tongue running up and down my slit and then plunging inside me. I cried out as my legs involuntarily shot up and around his shoulders and I desperately tangled my fingers in his hair. I pushed his head forward, deeper into my pussy. I needed to feel him closer, closer—as close as I could get. I wanted his tongue deeper inside me, I wanted his mouth tighter on my pussy. I would've done anything I could've done to feel more of him, to be closer to him in that moment.