Underwater (19 page)

Tiny lay on the couch while my head rested on her lap. Her eyes were closed, deep in sleep. Her light brown hair was wild, untamed strands scattered in all directions.

She took my breath away.

I looked at the old, white clock that hung on the wall across from me. It was large and antique. The numbers were Latin and the wooden frame was decorated in shades of blue. My mom had bought it for me when I first moved in a few years ago. When I realized the time, I was stunned. It was seven in the morning.

It was seven in the fucking morning and I had slept the whole night.

Damn. I always knew her touch soothed me, but I never imagined she could banish the nightmares. This knowledge scared me. I was afraid I would need her even more than I already did. But deep down, I also wished I could wake up to her every morning for the rest of my life.

Reaching up, I carefully ran the pads of my fingers across her eyebrows, down the bridge of her nose until I reached her lips. They were full and pink, and I couldn’t help sliding my fingers across them, feeling their texture and softness. All I could think at the moment was burying my fingers in the roots of her silky hair, bringing her face towards mine, and kissing her senseless.

My fingers were still caressing her lips when her eyes fluttered open. Halting my movement, our eyes locked together. We stared, my fingers still touching her lips. It was at least a minute before one of us decided to speak.

I dropped my hand. “Morning, girlfriend,” I said, my voice scratchy with sleep.

A smile spread across her lips. “Morning, boyfriend.”

“You’re still here,” I murmured.

“I promised you I’d stay.” I couldn’t help smiling back, recalling the song she’d sung to me the night before. “Besides, you seemed like you needed someone.”

“I didn’t need
someone
,” I said. “I needed
you
. I actually got a full night sleep. You have any idea what that means?”

She shook her head, eyebrows knitted together.

“Do you know how long it has been since I slept the whole night?”

Again, she shook her head.

“Years,” I said gruffly. “Fucking
years
.

“I don’t understand us, Dorian.” With a small voice, she said, “What we have… it’s not normal. It’s too powerful, too intense and too soon. I’m afraid.” Her voice increased in volume. “I don’t know if we’re supposed to feel this way. This... connected.” She sucked in a breath. “I’m just...
shit
. I don’t know what’s wrong with me this morning.”

I got up into a sitting position, grabbed her arm, and with a slight tug, I pulled her towards me, settling her in my lap so we were face to face. “Nothing is wrong with you,” I said. “Your thoughts mirror mine. I know it’s not normal, but I never claimed to be normal. All that I feel for you…I’m addicted. To your smell…” I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of vanilla that still lingered in her hair. “Your touch.” My hands found hers. “Your taste.” I brought our joined hands to my mouth and planted a kiss across her knuckles. Her breath caught and after a few seconds of silence, she exhaled slowly, her chest rising and falling at a faster rate. I drowned in her reaction, amazed at how my touch had the power to affect her so much. “You’re like a miracle to me,” I whispered in her ear. “My second chance in this life.” I planted a kiss on her cheek, brushing my lips across her soft, warm skin in slow, deliberate motions. “Where did I find you?”

She smiled sheepishly through her long, dark lashes. “In Bennie’s support group meeting.”

I chuckled and buried my head in the crook of her neck while breathing her intoxicating scent into my lungs. “Remind me to thank him later.”

She shivered in my arms and nodded. “I will.”

All I could feel around us was the stillness and I wanted to stay wrapped up in her all day.

And the next.

And the next.

And…

“I should probably go.”

My heart sank.

“I don’t want you to go,” I said dejectedly. I even pouted.

She laughed. The sound was like music to my ears because I wanted her to laugh all the time.

“It’s only for a few hours,” she said. “My dad has a check-up today and I have to take him.”

“Alright.” I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, planted a kiss across her lips and then leaned back, peering into her eyes. “Can you come to the bar later? Toby is probably waiting for your answer.”

She flushed, averting her eyes and looking everywhere, except at me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I need to prepare myself mentally for that.”

“Why don’t you like to sing in front of an audience?”

She shrugged. “It makes me nervous, you know? I don’t like crowds. I’d rather sing to myself or one person at a time.”

I held her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “As long as I get to hear your sweet voice, you can do whatever you want. Although,” I added quietly, “I think it would be a tragedy if the world didn’t get to hear you.”

“Stop that,” she said, her cheeks turning pink. “I feel like I’m blushing all the time when I’m with you.”

“It suits you. Besides, I love making you blush.”

She stuck-out her tongue, and in a move that would have earned me a gold medal at the Olympics, my lips caught her tongue seconds before she could pull it back in. I sucked and tasted, kissing her fiercely. I was desperate. Possessive. I breathed her into me, feeling like she was inside of me. Our tongues fought for domination. Her fingers found their way to the nape of my neck as she pressed her body closer to mine, sealing our connection. My hands made their way up her back until I found refuge in the roots of her hair. I clenched my right hand and created a fist made of silk, then pulled her head back and swallowed her gasp into my mouth. I consumed her noises, devouring her sweet taste, deepening the kiss even more. I was taking everything she was willing to give me, and in return, giving her back everything I had in me.

My little vixen started to roll her hips against my throbbing hardness, making me shudder. I moaned into her mouth. She was hitting me
right there
, making the bulge in my pants grow even harder. I groaned, tightening my hold in her hair. Her body stiffened and I held my breath, not sure if she would want us to stop.

When she resumed her movements, rubbing even faster, we both moaned in unison.

I was afraid I would explode. Years without sex made me feel like I was practically a virgin.

I started to thrust against her more urgently, both of us meeting in the middle, and I knew I hit her right where she needed me when I was rewarded with a deep, long moan. I growled my approval into her mouth, our tongues mingling together, finding harmony after the war of control they had fought.

She tore her mouth from mine, panting hard, looking at me with eyes full of desire and need.

Need for
me
.

“Dorian,” she whimpered. Both of us were breathing heavily while our bodies still loved each other, rubbing back and forth, up and down, and in slow, long circles. Fuck. If she felt this good with her clothes on, I was doomed. I would come with the first thrust.

“I know, baby,” I murmured. “I know…”

“I need...” She croaked.

“Tell me,” I gasped into her mouth. “Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

“More...” she whimpered. “I need more.”

I smirked. “Your wish is my command.”

I increased my rhythm; my pace was now faster, more forceful. My hardness strained against my jeans, trying to break through the barrier and find its way straight into her core. I pressed our foreheads together, both of us looking into each other’s eyes, our emotions transparent, bare for the other to read. We were panting and only the sounds of our breathing were heard inside the room.

Rolling my hips harder against her, I felt her tense in my arms, and then after a few seconds of silence, she cried out her relief. A few more thrusts and I let go too, grunting my release and soaking my jeans.

Then I kissed her.

Hard.

Savoring her taste and the little noises she made.

She belonged to me.

I pulled back, giving her one last kiss on the mouth, and then ran my lips up towards her nose where I placed a chaste kiss, followed by a kiss on each eyelid. I couldn’t get enough of her.

She and I held each other’s gaze. “Wow, that was...”

I rubbed our noses together and said, “Yeah, baby, it was.”

“They had their faces twisted toward their haunches

and found it necessary to walk backward,

because they could not see ahead of them.

… and since he wanted so to see ahead,

he looks behind and walks a backward path.”

—
Dante Alighieri

“A
re you nervous?” I asked quietly.

Because
I
was nervous. And I knew my dad was on edge, even though he tried to hide it from us.

The first round of chemotherapy hadn’t helped. His body hadn’t responded positively to the treatment. It crushed his spirits.

We made our way to the hospital for a CT scan. A few weeks ago, he’d started a new line of treatment with stronger drugs. It would tell us if the current treatment was effective. He wouldn’t talk, but I knew. I knew him like the back of my hand. Like the smell of a new book. Or the smell of the earth after a good rain. He was afraid.

We’d taken off as soon as I’d gotten home this morning. He was so impatient and afraid we were going to be late, he didn’t even ask me where I’d been or what I’d done last night.

Lucky me.

We drove with my dad, as usual, taking control of the steering wheel. Driving was one thing he wasn’t ready to compromise on. He’d always told me he would be the one behind the wheel until his last breath. I didn’t mind. If it was something he could handle, and he clearly wanted to, then why the hell not? I wouldn’t be the one to take it away from him. Since he had gotten sick, a lot of things were prohibited to him and I wouldn’t add another ban to the heap.

The mere thought broke my heart.

I sat next to him in the passenger seat, my feet settled on the dashboard. Finally, after long beats of silence, my dad turned his head in my direction and locked his eyes with mine. He looked at me without saying a thing, then veered his eyes back to the road and said with a low voice, “No, I’m not.”

Liar.

I turned on the radio, jumping from station to station, looking for a song that would suit the moment. After several failed attempts, I plugged in my iPhone because
(
let’s face it) what were the odds that the exact same song I wanted to hear at the moment would magically play on the radio?

When I found the song, I pressed play, and smiled to myself. If he didn’t want to talk then I would get through to him the only way I knew how.

With music.

Move Along
by my go-to band, The All American Rejects, burst out of the speakers. The uplifting and positive tune was exactly what we needed. I didn’t have much to say because the song said it all for me.

All I needed from him was to lean on me.

To never lose hope.

To stay strong.

And to move forward because that’s the only thing we could do.

I lowered my legs and rolled the window down, watching the glass sliding down slowly. I leaned my head along my forearm, letting the crisp wind chill my face. I shivered, burying my head into the crook of my arm, leaving only my eyes bare to the cold. Trees passed us by in all shades of yellow, orange, and red, announcing loud and clear that fall was here. I loved the autumn. There was something about the season that called out to me. Calmed me. Some would say that the mood in the fall was sad and depressing, but it never felt that way to me. When autumn came I felt a sense of tranquility envelop me. I loved the smell, the earthly vibrant colors, the fallen leaves, and the crispness in the air.