Page 100 of Hunt for the Roses
When the ripples of our highs start flattening, it’s like Dane and I are standing on crumbled pieces of my old soul. It wasn’t just Dane’s sexual expertise that brought me to an earth-shattering orgasm, it was his words.
He’s the light that’s outlined the doorframe of my dark room, waiting to open the door when I was ready to accept the light. Accept color into my world again. And as treacherous and agonizing as my journey has been, he resurrectshopeinside me. Hope that I can heal from the venom that I’ve ingested from my past.
“God, yes,” he grunts into the crook of my neck, digging his fingers into my hips as his body jerks a few final times from the shockwaves of his climax. I place my palm over the top of one of his hands at my hip, and I place a light kiss on his temple, tasting salt from the droplets of sweat that bead his skin there.
Dane picks his head up and cups the side of my face to bring my lips to his. Our lips are sleek with beads of moisture from our exerted energy, but I don’t care. I need his lips now more than ever as I dip my tongue into his mouth for him to stroke it with his own. When we break away from each other, Dane playfully nudges the tip of my nose affectionately as he carefully slips out of me, and I whimper at the emptiness I suddenly feel.
I wince as I register the soreness Dane left behind on me, but grin just as quickly when he embraces me from behind and lays us on our side on my couch. Dane spoons me as he grabs the throw blanket off the back of the couch, and drapes it over both of us. I snuggle my backside into Dane, and I feel a featherlight kiss touch my bare shoulder.
I turn my body around enough to look Dane in the eyes, and notice a sleek tendril of hair sticking to his forehead, evidence of our intense love making just minutes earlier. I gently palm the side of his face when I say, “I’m going to tell my family tomorrow.”
Dane starts to shake his head as he says, “I didn’t say what I said earlier to push yo-”
“I know,” I interrupt. “I want to tell them.” I’m stroking his cheek with my thumb as I stare into his eyes that promise redemption. “I’malivewhen I’m with you, Dane,” I confess, my feelings sliding off the tip of my tongue with ease now. Dane grabs my hand at his face, kissing the inside of my palm, and the corner of my lips tip up before I continue on. “You’ve restored my faith in everything I lost. Happiness and the will to live on. You’ve brought me hope in despair and protected me from hurting any more than I already have. There’s no denying the fire that burns within me burns for you, and I don’t want to run from the storm anymore. I’m ready to take shelter with you.”
Dane closes his eyes and inhales sharply as he nudges my forehead with his, kindly pushing against it. “Thisfeels so right to me. How could this ever be wrong?” he whispers.
I close my eyes as I’m swallowed in the same thoughts as him, willing myself not to retreat two steps after taking one huge leap forward. “This world isn’t perfect, remember?” I whisper back.
“It feels perfect right now,” he whispers.
I let a small smile creep on my lips. “Yeah. It does,” I breathe out.
We’re glued in each other’s arms, forehead to forehead, for the next few moments when time stands still. The blanket that covers us is like our security from the outside world. We’re confronting our emotions and tackling them head on, but how will my family react when I tell them? Can they accept this? If they can’t accept it, can they still support me? If they can’t support me, can they still respect our relationship? Or will there always be a crow perched outside the window, looming over Dane and me?
As I’m about to drown deeper into my thoughts, I feel Dane peel his forehead from mine, causing my eyes to open. “What if they can’t accept this?” he asks.
Like two bodies connected to the same soul, it’s clear he was thinking the same thoughts I was, and as much as the question unsettles me, it reassures me. Reassures me that Dane and I are in this together, and there’s a possible winning chance for us.
“I’ve been through worse, right?” I say, but there is a hint of uncertainty in my voice that reveals itself a little too much. Yes, I have been through much worse than what we’re discussing, but I’m not so sure if I can be with Dane if my family can’t welcome him with open arms.
How would that be fair to either of us?
It wouldn’t.
Dane’s knuckles graze my cheek. “It doesn’t lessen the importance of needing your family in your life,” he says.
My eyes swell with emotion, glossing over as Dane’s response helps me keep one foot forward on this journey. This amazing and incredible human being before me understands my heart without me having to utter a single letter to him.
“I love you,” I whisper.
The words leave my mouth so fluidly it’s not lost on me how effortless it is to tell him, and I can see and hear the slightest breath escape through Dane’s lips.
“I love you too,” he whispers. Then he pulls my face to his, and our lips connect like we’re trapping our admission between us, hiding it from anything or anyone that dares to snatch it.
He tastes like a sanctuary, and I take refuge.
Saturday, August 6, 2022
I have one foot propped up on my coffee table as I lean back into the couch with my head turned up toward the ceiling. Aria is on her way to her dad’s restaurant to help finalize some preparations for the grand opening in two weeks and made it clear last night and earlier today that she was going to tell her family about us. As much as her leap forward pleases me, fear churns in the pit of my stomach.
When Aria first suggested this last night, I wasn’t expecting to feel as unsure as I did in that moment, and as I still do now. For a while, I thought this step would be the answer to a huge hurdle Aria and I have been trying to successfully jump over. But there’s an ominous question that lingers in the background of this picture.
Could I be so selfish to continue to love Aria if her family doesn’t accept this?
A sour taste seeps into the inside of my cheeks as I realize what possible repercussions lie ahead today. Specifically, in an hour or two.
I swallow the nauseous feeling in my mouth down, trying physically to suppress reality and the weight I’m carrying on my shoulders. Last night felt like only the beginning for us.
