Always Means Forever

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  His hands had explored every square inch of skin and where his fingertips had lingered, his mouth had followed. Darwin had kissed a slow trail down the length of her neck and across her shoulders. He’d brushed his lips around the curves of her breasts then had slowly suckled one breast and then the other, each of her nipples swelling full and hard in his mouth. When she felt her back arch off the bed, her body moving with a will of its own, she’d known there was no turning back.

  He’d continued to lick a wet, glistening path downward, pausing to press a kiss to her belly button, and then he’d leaned on his elbows to stare up her. “Let me show you heaven,” he’d whispered, his tone teasing. Bridget had suddenly felt light-headed, her body trembling with anticipation. Darwin had moved himself between her thighs, hooking his thumbs into the elastic of her lace panties as he slid them off her body.

  When she’d felt his breath blowing against her secret treasure, his fingers dancing with precision in her moist chamber, she’d called his name out loud, chanting it over and over again. Then he’d eased the tip of his tongue expertly against her sex and she’d lost complete control, her body convulsing with sheer pleasure. The experience had been nothing like anything she’d ever experienced before and he’d brought her to a point of no return, gasping for air beneath him as he’d laid his head to rest on her stomach, his arms holding her close.

  Just reflecting back on the moment caused a quiver of energy to shoot up Bridget’s spine. Shaking the sensation from her head, she moved into the bathroom to still the call of nature that had awakened her in the first place. Climbing back onto the bed, she watched him for a while longer, drawing a light finger across his cheek.

  She loved him. She loved everything about him. She’d loved him even before she’d been willing to admit it, actually missing him after those holiday get-togethers when he’d gone his way and she’d gone hers. There had been a reason for them to come together now, in this space, she mused, reflecting back on the events that had led them to this point. Fate had arranged this dance and was directing their moves and Bridget was glad for it. Fate had led her to the door of her dreams and a higher power had answered her prayers. Curling back against him, she smiled as he wrapped her back into his arms, pulling her close against him.

  “Everything okay?” Darwin asked, slumber guiding his words, his eyes still shut tight.

  “Everything is perfect,” Bridget whispered. Then she closed her own eyes and fell back to sleep.

  She never heard the alarm clock. It was the telephone ringing that finally pulled her from deep slumber and when she opened her eyes, her bed was empty, Darwin nowhere in the room. The ringing phone stopped quickly and Bridget assumed it had clicked over to the answering machine in her home office.

  The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and something decadent that she couldn’t identify wafted up from the kitchen below. Bridget stretched her body up and outward, yawning widely. Rising from the bed, she moved into the bathroom, performed the usual morning toilet, and then slipped her naked body into a pair of baby-blue sweatpants and T-shirt. When she reached the lower level, moving into the kitchen, Darwin was on her telephone, chatting easily. Bridget stood watching as he laughed and smiled into the receiver tucked between his ear and his shoulder as he held a steaming mug of hot brew between his two hands.

  When he caught sight of her, he grinned widely, tossing her a quick wink of his eye. “Good morning, beautiful,” he said, moving to kiss her cheek. He returned to his conversation. “My baby girl just woke up…yeah…I’d love to…okay…I’ll talk with you later,” he said and then he held out the telephone toward her. “It’s Jeneva,” he said as he passed her the receiver.

  Bridget continued to eye him as he moved first to the oven to peer inside and then back to the stove top to pour another cup of coffee into a second mug resting on the counter.

  “Hello?”

  Her best friend giggled into the receiver. “My, my, my. It must have been some night, baby girl!”

  Bridget grinned. “Good morning, Jeneva. How are you?”

  “No. The question is how was he?”

  “You sound like Roshawn now.”

  “If I were Roshawn I would have asked Darwin.”

  Both women laughed heartily.

  “I was shocked when he answered the telephone,” Jeneva said. “I dropped my toast on the floor.”

  Bridget cut an eye toward Darwin, who stood watching her, a full grin gracing his expression. She grinned back.

  “Jeneva, let me call you back. I haven’t had a cup of coffee yet and Darwin is cooking something that smells absolutely incredible.”

  “It’s his breakfast casserole. It’s to die for! And scones. He told me.”

  “Well, I’m glad you know.” Bridget chuckled.

  “Don’t worry about calling me. You two are coming to play bid whist tonight. We’ll talk then. Love you!”

  Bridget shook her head. “Love you, too. Bye!”

  As she hung up the receiver, Darwin wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “Hope you don’t mind me answering the phone. The name and number came up on the caller ID and I didn’t think you’d have a problem with my picking it up.”

  She shook her head. “Not at all. How are you this morning?” she asked, nuzzling her cheek against his bare chest. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Very well,” he said as he kissed her forehead. “Are you hungry?”

  She nodded. “I hear this meal is to die for. One of Jeneva’s favorites, I gather?”

  “One I make regularly. I was going to serve it to you in bed.”

  “You still can. I have no problems going back upstairs and crawling back under my covers.”

  Darwin slipped his hand beneath her T-shirt, allowing his palm to cradle her breast as his fingers caressed the rise of nipple that suddenly pressed candy-hard against the cotton fabric. His other hand skated around her back and down her spine into the back of her sweatpants. He cupped her right butt cheek in his palm, gently caressing the globe of tight flesh. He pressed his mouth to her ear and whispered. “I enjoyed last night. I hope you did, too?” he asked.

  She giggled, heat rushing to her face. “Yes, very much,” she responded as she pressed herself against him, planting a light kiss against his lips. “Very much.”

  Darwin smiled. “Good. Then I’ll make sure breakfast is just as tantalizing,” he said, giving her a quick squeeze before letting her go.

  Bridget took a deep inhale of air. “You just take care of the food,” she said, still smiling. “Then I get to do dessert.”

  Darwin chuckled. “That sounds interesting,” he said as he watched her grab her cup of coffee and head back in the direction of her bedroom.

  She tossed him a quick glance over her shoulder. “I promise you, it will be,” she said, before disappearing back up the stairs.

  Darwin stood staring after her, the prospect of what might happen between them moving his temperature to rise. A quiver of electricity shot through the pit of his stomach and sensation strained against his nerve endings. Rushing to the oven, he pulled the hot pan from inside, then prepped the breakfast plates. He also filled a bowl with sugared strawberries and placed champagne glasses onto a wicker tray. When everything was ready, the presentation capped with a single rosebud in the center of the display, he raced up the stairs, anxious to get to the meal and even more excited about what might possibly follow.

  Chapter 13

  The smirk across Bridget’s face was all-telling and she imagined that everyone who saw her could tell what she and Darwin had been up to that morning. Breakfast had been better than imagined, the brie and sausage casserole and pineapple mimosas beyond decadent. She’d ended the meal by giving Darwin a full-body massage, kneading every muscle in his body with a concoction of coconut and mango seed oils that she’d purchased from the Body Shop. Between her own hands, the thumb thongs and the footsie roller, she’d managed to caress and relax every ounce of tension out of his body.
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br />   They’d spent a fair amount of time just lying side by side trading light, easy caresses as they talked about their plans for the day and every random thought that had crossed his or her mind. After an extended shower together, both savoring the flow of hot water in her large shower and the heated steam that had permeated the room, Darwin had dressed and headed for his own home, having to stop to pick up Biscuit from the overpriced pet-hotel he’d kenneled her in.

  Bridget had headed in the opposite direction toward the county courthouse where she now stood at the counter waiting for the clerk to date stamp and file the stack of legal documents in front of her.

  The county administrator greeted her warmly. “Hi there, Counselor,” she said with a large smile adorning her round face. “Where have you been hiding? It’s been a while.”

  “Not too long, I hope,” Bridget responded.

  The woman shook her head. “So, what do you have for me today?”

  Bridget pushed a large stack of documents forward. “I need to file these, please. It’s civil litigation.”

  Bridget pulled into the parking lot of the Seattle Medical Center just seconds after Darwin had parked and shut down the engine of his own vehicle. For a brief moment the two sat side by side staring at each other.

  Bridget knew how difficult this was for Darwin. They’d talked about his feelings that morning, how inadequate he was feeling by his predicament. Darwin was a true alpha male, his dominant spirit unable to comprehend the why and wherefore of what was happening to him. He was a man who exuded confidence in everything he did and that confidence was powerful and sexy, that certain je ne sais quoi that made people want to be near him, or be like him. He was also a consummate leader and a rule breaker, setting his own standards, exceeding the expectations of others. Darwin made the game up as he went along, writing his own rules, and impotence had placed him on a playing field he couldn’t begin to maneuver. But he was learning to improvise, and though Bridget couldn’t begin to imagine where he might be able to take her if he were at full capacity, he was being exceptionally innovative as they explored the intimate side of their new relationship. She only wished that she could return the pleasure as wholeheartedly so that he was feeling as intensely satisfied as he had made her feel.

  She smiled as she moved to exit the car, greeting him as he exited his own. “Hey, you!”

  “Hey, yourself. Get all your errands run?”

  “I did. How about you? How’s Biscuit?”

  “Glad to be home. She’s mad with me though. Wouldn’t even let me cuddle her. Just hopped onto her favorite chair and ignored me.”

  “Poor daddy. That’s what you get for not taking her with you.”

  “Next time I’m leaving her with you,” he said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, leaning to give her a quick kiss on the mouth. He took a deep inhale of breath, blowing it out in a large gust.

  Bridget squeezed his hand and they headed for the entrance, taking the elevator to the second floor and the office of Dr. Owen Page, one of the area’s most renowned urologists. It was only a matter of minutes before the two of them were escorted from the office waiting area to one of the rear examination rooms. Bridget’s nerves were instantly assuaged the minute she stepped into the room. Spinning in a slow circle to take in the view, she grinned, her gaze moving from the walls to Darwin and back again.

  “Wow!” she exclaimed. “This is too cool!”

  Darwin nodded his head as he took a seat on the examination table. “I thought the exact same thing the first time I saw it,” Darwin said. “Doc has an interesting sense of style.”

  The nurse at his side was wrapping a black blood pressure cuff around his bicep. The woman smiled. “It’s definitely something to talk about,” she said, her blond head bobbing eagerly. “It’s quite an impressive collection.”

  Bridget turned her attention back to the walls. The decor was like nothing she’d ever seen before in a physician’s office. The doctor was clearly an avid fan of western memorabilia. Every square inch of wall space was adorned with mementos from the wild, wild west.

  There was an old rifle mounted above the door frame and two ten-gallon hats resting on wall hooks. There was a saddle, a jar filled with etched belt buckles, framed images of horses and cowboys, a vintage gun holster, a bull skull, an Indian headdress, a cabinet filled with old medicine bottles and vintage doctor supplies and a profusion of knickknacks too numerous to inventory without a few hours of time. Bridget and Darwin were so busy scrutinizing each item that both jumped when the doctor came into the room.

  “Darwin, my man, how’s it hanging?” Dr. Page said, extending his hand in Darwin’s direction.

  “Owen, your choice of words leaves a lot to be desired. How’s everything going with you?”

  “I can’t complain, my friend. Can’t complain at all. How about yourself?”

  Darwin shrugged. “Things have been better. That’s why I’m here, remember?”

  The doctor smiled. “Well, let’s see if we can’t do something about that.” The man turned his attention to Bridget. “Hello, I’m Owen Page.”

  Bridget shook the outstretched hand. “It’s a pleasure, Dr. Page. I’m Bridget Hinton.”

  “Bridget is that special lady I was telling you about,” Darwin said, an unexpected blush flooding warmth over his cheeks.

  Dr. Page nodded his head. “I’m glad you’re here for Darwin, Bridget,” the man said as he looked down to the file folder in his hand. He scanned it briefly before speaking again. “Darwin, your blood pressure is slightly elevated.”

  “Probably just my nerves,” Darwin responded.

  The other man smiled again, cutting a quick gaze in Darwin’s direction. “Probably, but I want to check it again myself just to be sure,” he said, reaching for the cuff that hung from the wall. The man continued speaking as he worked. “Well, the good news is that the last wave of tests we took all came back negative. So, as I told you before, it doesn’t appear that your condition is being caused by something medical. Did you call that psychologist I recommended?”

  “Not yet,” Darwin said, his gaze skirting toward Bridget and down to the floor.

  “Do you plan to call him?” Dr. Page asked.

  Darwin shrugged but didn’t bother to respond.

  “Well, it’s an option I think you should seriously consider,” the doctor said. He jotted a quick note into Darwin’s folder. “Your blood pressure is one-twenty-five over eighty-five. It’s coming down and that’s good. Now, any questions before we go on?” He looked from Darwin to Bridget and back to Darwin.

  Darwin cleared his throat. “Would you please explain to Bridget what’s going on? I tried, but you know how I am,” he said, a shy grin filling his face.

  The doctor turned to face her. “Why certainly! As you know, when things are working properly, sexual performance is a three-step process. The man becomes sexually aroused, the penis responds by becoming erect and then stimulation of the penis causes ejaculation. In Darwin’s case, step two isn’t happening, and of course, that makes step three difficult or impossible to complete. Although he may be stimulated, the penis does not become erect.”

  “And you don’t know why?” Bridget asked.

  “Think of the penis like a balloon. If a balloon has no air in it, it’s limp. As you inflate a limp balloon with just a little air, it becomes elongated and rigid. The penis uses a similar mechanism, but instead of using pressurized air to become rigid, the penis uses pressurized blood. That’s one reason why we monitor Darwin’s blood pressure so closely. If he suffered from high blood pressure or what we call hypertension, that and the medications to treat it could cause his problem.”

  “Really?”

  The doctor nodded. “And worse. High blood pressure could actually cause a heart attack as well as other problems. Did you know African-Americans have the highest rate of high blood pressure in the world, affecting one out of every three persons? We also know that hypertension affects 36.4 percent of b
lack men aged twenty and older compared to 25.6 percent of white men, plus they develop it at an earlier age than their white counterparts. But his blood pressure isn’t Darwin’s problem.”

  “And medication can fix him?” Bridget queried, tossing Darwin a quick smile.

  “We hope medication will alleviate the symptoms but we still need to narrow down the cause.”

  “So, how does Viagra work?” Darwin interjected.

  The doctor shifted in his seat. “Darwin, when you get aroused, the arteries leading into the penis open up so that pressurized blood can enter quickly. You get an erection. With you, your arteries aren’t opening up properly and we need to open them.”

  Bridget winced. “That actually sounds like it would hurt.”

  Both men laughed.

  Dr. Page shook his head. “It won’t. The pills will help the process but you have to understand that it’s not like you take the pill and suddenly you have an erection that lasts nineteen hours. You still have to be actively involved.”

  “I don’t understand,” Darwin said.

  “You need to take your dose about thirty minutes before you want to engage in sexual activity. Then you need to do the kissing and cuddling to stimulate an erection. Lots of foreplay. Once you get excited, the rest should come back to you.”

  Darwin rolled his eyes. “Gotcha!”

  “And, don’t forget you’ll still need protection. Have sex, but make sure you have safe sex, please.”

  Bridget blushed, feeling the rise of heat burning her cheeks.

  “Unless you two are thinking about having children,” the doctor concluded, “and then I would recommend you both have an AIDS test first. Are you thinking about children?”

  Bridget shook her head vigorously, a thoughtful reflection crossing her face. She stammered, her eyes widening as she looked at Darwin. Both of them laughed nervously.

  Dr. Page looked from one to the other. “Too soon for that, huh? Oh, well. Any questions?”

  Darwin shook his head and looked at Bridget, noting a frown that crossed her face.