Page 91 of Fighting With Light
“Come on, princess.” She steps around me to sit down. I grab her waist before she can and wrap my arms around her, and she turns her head, pushing her forehead into my pec.
“We will find what we need, Aelia. We might be able to talk to locals about it when we get there,” I suggest.
She tilts her head back and looks up at me. “It’s not that,” she sighs.
I frown at her. Maybe dredging up the past got to her because I don’t know what else she could be upset about, or she isn’t upset at all. Women are confusing. “Then what is it?” I ask her, point blank. The corner of her mouth tilts up.
“Nothing, Tarzan, nothing at all,” she says and pushes away from me.
I shake off the confusion and sit across from her.
As we eat, Aelia keeps glancing at me over the table and I swear the room is getting warmer. She smiles and takes a sip of her wine. I’m not drinking tonight. It will slow me down tomorrow, but I sure like the way her tongue dips out over her lips once she takes a sip. That expensive bottle was worth every penny.
“This wine is delicious,” she says, looking down into the glass.
“Good, it should be, since the bottle was two grand.”
She sets the glass down and looks me in the eye. “I mean, I’ve had better,” she says. The corner of her mouth tips up, and I take another bite of my chicken.
“You’re mean,” I mumble.
She giggles and rests her chin in her hand. “But you love it,” she says the last words in a rasp. My chewing slows and my gaze locks into hers. The stupid organ in my chest that hasn’t stopped jumping up and down for her confirms everything.
“Yeah, I do,” I mutter and swallow, trying not to choke on the chicken.
She schools her face, not allowing me to see how she really feels about that, but I think she gets the double meaning. At least I know she feels it, too. This is not one-sided. I don’t want her to hurt, though. I would carry it all so she didn’t have to feel the inevitable coming.
But that’s yet another annoying thing I’ve discovered about love. It forces you to feel it whether or not you want to, whether your past and your future are rife with violence and paranoia or peace and happiness. That explains why I see so many stories about it. Traveling the world like I do, I’ve picked up on how it’s unmistakably universal. It transcends all cultures and backgrounds. It’s available to all. Love was waiting for me and I never saw it coming.
“Do you feel ready for tomorrow?” she asks hesitantly.
I take a swig of mineral water. “Yeah, I think I am. I just need some good sleep and then I’ll be ready to go.”
“Good because I was nervous that our excursion might have thrown you off.” I watch her drain the last of her wine and set the glass down.
“No, I think it prepared me more. It got all the nerves out,” I say, standing from the table. I walk over to her side and hold my hand out, yanking her body up and into mine. I slide my hands down her silk-covered body and back up. Her pajamas catch in my calluses, but she doesn’t seem to care. The soft fabric makes me feel too rough for her. She’s all soft lines and small curves. I’m all hard edges and scar tissue.
I drag my hands up to her shoulder blades where the thinnest straps on the planet sit daintily on her shoulders, and push one down with my finger to kiss her bare shoulder. She shudders in my hold and I do the same to the other.
The loose fabric drops enough that the top of her breasts peek out. I lean down and kiss each one, and she shivers again. Her hands run through my damp hair as I breathe out on her skin and goosebumps rise beneath my lips.
I kiss the skin that I can see and walk her with me towards the bed. Pulling her between my spread legs, I grip the backs of her thighs. She looks down at me as I gaze up at her, and swear my heart is about to beat out of my chest. She grabs the edge of her top and slips it over her head, dropping it to the floor.
This is as close as we will ever get toI love you,and it should be celebrated. We should be able to show each other that there will never be another. I know that’s the case for me. She is etched into my broken, messed up, bleeding heart. Her name is carved into my flesh with my family and will remain there until the day I die.
I joked with Kai many months ago when he and his wife, Cordelia, told us they were getting married. It doesn’t matter that I sort of pushed him to take the leap with Cordi. I told him I thought he would be some kind of Evel Knievel monk because he kept his distance from women, so they didn’t end up being associated with our chaotic family. The joke is on me because I get it now. I understand why Kai risked it all for her, for their kid. There’s no question I would do the same for Aelia. I glance down at her stomach, imagining what it would be like to see her grow with our result of love. And the mere fact I am even considering what it would be like to be a father, to be a husband, makes this more laughable. My brothers would be cracking up at this point.
But I wouldn’t be alone.
Resting my forehead against her stomach, she runs her hands through my hair soothingly.
“Hey,” she whispers.
I lean my head back to look at her and the soft smile on her lips breaks me a little bit. “Make this count,” she whispers.
She doesn’t have to spell it out for me. It has nothing to do with actual sex; it has everything to do with the fact that I am hers, and she is mine, and we can’t keep it that way. So, for the time we do have,we better make this count.
Grabbing her knees from behind, I pull her to straddle my waist, and she holds my shoulders for balance as she presses her lips to mine. I groan into her mouth from the tightness in my chest. She whimpers and I wrap my arms around her ribs. Her warmth steadies me and her mouth grounds me. She rolls her hips, sending a spark over my skin. From the first time we’ve been together and almost every time after, I realized every second counts with her. Loving her slowly is what I’m meant to do. I need to claim every inch of skin on her beautiful body, and that takes time. She deserves to be cherished andlovedlike this.
