by Lisa De Jong
****
WE AGREE TO meet back in my room after our separate showers. I’m a ball of nerves once again. I am desperate to spend the night with him, but I’m afraid one night will never be enough for me.
After slipping on my loose fitting, deep purple, silk cami and shorts, I exit my bathroom and lose my breath at seeing him sitting on my bed. His shirt is on hiatus, and I’m thrilled to see all that skin just for me. As if pulled by an invisible string, my nerve-endings bolt upon seeing him and propel me to make my way over to him. His arms slip around my waist while I circle his shoulders with mine. I lean in and give him a chaste kiss. He mumbles something against my lips that I don’t understand.
I pull back a little. “What was that?” I ask.
“Silk—I love you in silk.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” He runs one hand under my cami and then back over the silk. “I can’t tell where the silk stops and your soft skin begins. You feel so good.” He begins caressing my skin in earnest.
“Mmm...Hold that thought, Mr. Hebert,” I say as I shake myself from his hold and his spell. “Let me dry my hair.”
He lets his arms fall dramatically to the side and falls back against the bed. “Tease,” I hear him murmur behind his hands scrubbing over his face. I laugh lightly.
Flipping my head over, I dry the underside of my hair quickly. As I flip back up, he’s standing over me and a startled shriek wrenches from me. He just laughs as he takes the blow dryer from me and motions for me to sit at my vanity. With one hand he smoothes a lock of hair while running the blow dryer down alongside his fingers. My gaze drifts from his actions to his face. The look of concentration on his face is adorable. For someone who has never been in a serious relationship, he’s surprisingly good at the wooing because I’m thoroughly wooed. His blues finally come up to meet mine in the mirror, and I give him a grin.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I say with a laugh.
“You don’t like it?”
“No, I love it and you. I love you.”
He drops the dryer for a second before bending down and running his tongue up the side of my neck to my ear where he nips a little before he says, “I love you, Celeste. Like crazy love, like I can’t sit across the room from you and watch you without wanting to be a part of what you’re doing. Does that turn you off? Am I suffocating you?”
I’m just on this side of whimpering from his beautiful confession, so I just shake my head side to side in a no.
He straightens up and finishes drying my hair while I ogle him. I watch his skin stretch over his taut abs and muscular chest while he moves the dryer around. I let my gaze drift over his biceps and up to his chiseled jaw that’s held tight while he concentrates. When my wandering eyes meet back up with his, those blues hold a smile.
“See something you like?” he asks as he cuts the dryer off and lays it on the counter.
Instead of answering him, I spin on my stool and grasp him by his trim hips. Looking up at him, I lean and place kisses all along his stomach, circling his belly button with my tongue. Releasing a swift rush of air, he buries his hands in my hair while I worship his body with my tongue. When neither of us can take a second more, his hands find mine, and he leads me over to my bed. Turning me so that my back is to the bed, he nudges my lips until I let him in and nudges my body until I’m scooting up on the bed. He follows me up, and I lose myself in his kiss, my nerves effectively forgotten.
Pulling back, his lips trail down my neck, over my collarbone, and down to my breasts where he suckles and nips until I’m a writhing mass. Just when I think I can’t take this build up of pressure anymore, he runs his hand up my loose-fitting shorts. His head shoots up when he realizes I don’t have anything on underneath them, his blues turning dark and turbulent.
“I want to make you feel good. Do you trust me?” he asks, his voice turned raspy. I fall into those beautiful blues and nod my agreement. He pulls me in for a mind-numbing kiss while one of his fingers finds its way to my nub of exposed nerve-endings. It takes me by such surprise that I yelp. I try to conjure up some embarrassment at my raw display of ecstasy. He doesn’t let up, though, and I can do nothing but focus on the pleasure he brings me. When he has me so worked up that I feel I’m about to explode, I feel another finger slip inside of me. This time, instead of yelping, I lean up and kiss and bite at his shoulder while my orgasm rockets through me.
“That’s it, baby. Give it all to me. Oh, you’re so wet and so eager.” I bite at him in earnest and hear him growl, but I can’t help myself because I’m riding out the tempest that’s tearing through my body.
Just when I think it can’t get any more intense, he inserts another finger and twists them simultaneously. I lose focus with what I’m doing with my mouth and I fall back. “Adrian,” I say desperately. My poor body doesn’t know if it should give in or resist.
“I’ve got you baby. Let go.”
I don’t let go so much as shatter all around him. “Mmm...” is all I can manage as I ride out wave after wave of pleasure. He slows down and strokes me languidly as my body goes soft like jelly and then removes his fingers, licking them clean before grinning at me.
He kisses my chin and rearranges my clothes before flipping on his back and pulling me in tight. “You are amazing,” he tells me as he plants kisses on the top of my head.
How am I the amazing one exactly? He made me come twice in about three minutes. I would tell him that, but that would be way too humiliating. “You’re not turned off by how, umm, easy that was?” I ask.
“Uhh...no, the exact opposite actually.”
“Oh good,” I breathe. I feel bad. He didn’t get any pleasure, and he’s nestling like he’s about to doze off. “What about you?” I blush upon asking that.
“What about me?”
“I want to make you feel good too,” I admit.
He gives me a lopsided grin. “You do?”
I bite my lip and nod.
“What do you want to do to me?”
“I want to touch you.”
“How?”
Grinning, I bite my lip harder and shake my head. Oh, he’s not going to make this easy on me. I lose the smile and tell him, “I want to wrap my hand around you and stroke you until you feel as good as I do right this very second.” I feel my cheeks burn, and it’s everything I can do to maintain eye contact with him. His grin widens, and he brings my face up to his and kisses me deeply while I trail my hand down his chest and abs.
I play a little at the edge of his shorts before diving my hand in and grasping him. Adrian releases a shaky breath into my mouth, and I feel encouraged. Running my hand over his length a few times before circling him in my grip, I begin to massage him in earnest. I run the tip of my thumb over his tip to gather the wetness and smear that to help me in my quest.
Adrian throws his head back and clenches his eyes tight as I work him with my hand. His hooded eyes open to watch me and that turns me on even more. “That feels so good, baby,” he says all gruff-like.
After only a few minutes, he strains and bucks and finds his release. I gather it and spread it over his length to finish the job while he moans under me. I lean up and capture his lips with mine and give him a long, lingering kiss while he comes back down.
I give him another couple of pecks before getting up to get a washcloth. I warm it and bring it over to clean him. “I can do that,” he says as he comes back to me.
“I want to,” I assure him.
When I climb back in bed with him, he holds the covers back for me while I nuzzle into his side.
“Adrian?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Does it worry you that I’m older than you?”
“You’re older than me?” he asks, feigning surprise.
I smack his chest playfully and grab at his chest hair a little. “Does it?”
“I never even consider it,” he assures me.
“Well, that’s actually what wor
ries me—the fact that you’re all wrapped up and not thinking about the ramifications of our being together.” I hesitate for a second before telling him my true concern. “You’ve told me before that you want children.”
“Yeah, so?”
I lean up and prop my face in my palm before stating the obvious. “My youngest child is seven. I’m thirty-seven. I don’t know that I’ll be able to have any more children if that’s what you want. And, to be honest, I don’t know that I want any more children because of my age. It would be...difficult.”
He swipes a lock of hair from my face and rubs it between his fingers, watching the action before looking back at me. I see pure conviction steeling my beloved blues. “Baby, I only want to be with you for you. I don’t want to be with you for what you can or can’t offer me. Right now, what you’re giving me, is more than I ever dreamed possible, and it’ll be more than enough for the rest of my life.”
I smile big before I tell him of my musings from earlier. “You’re really good at this, you know?”
“Good at what?”
“Being in a relationship, the wooing.”
“The wooing?”
“I’m so wooed I can’t see straight,” I joke.
“Really?” he asks with a raised brow.
“Mmm hmm,” I confirm.
His face becomes somber again, and he grasps my neck a little as he pulls me in to him. “You and the boys are enough for me now and forever. I mean that with everything I am and everything I’ll ever be. Do you understand?”
A massive knot has lodged itself in my throat so that I’m only able to nod fervently before he kisses all thought from me once again.
****
IT HAD BEEN an eventful weekend that’s for sure. Adrian and I had spent all day Saturday ensconced in the little cocoon we’d carved out for ourselves before picking the boys up from their friend’s house that night. When we’d gotten the boys home, we played cards and games with them until they became whiny due to being overly exhausted. Adrian helped me get them tucked away before slipping away to his place.
After spending one night with him, I was already bemoaning the prospect of having to sleep without him. He must’ve sensed that because he pulled me to him on the porch before he promised, “You won’t have many more nights without me by your side.” I think I actually growled. He chuckled, kissed me, and shooed me back inside with a command to lock up.
He’d picked us up for Sunday Mass the next morning before driving us up to the country. I wondered if our family would notice that we’d driven out together. We’d never done that before.
We’d had lunch and walked the grounds a bit before the bottom fell out of the sky. Now, we are holed up in the family room because of the torrential downpour. The kids are being fabulous. The adults seem edgy. My mother, my sister-in-law, and I sit on the couch looking over some designs. My mother had never shown any interest in my work, but since the accident and our falling out, she’d seemed determined to play nice with me—a blessing in disguise. I still don’t trust her completely, though.
As surreptitiously as possible, I steal as many glances as I’m able of Adrian and the younger boys. He’s held them all enthralled as he’s showed them how to play some songs on the piano. I’m pretty sure he’s played every Elvis song under the sun. My father and father-in-law sit next to the older boys regaling them with Naval battle stories. My teenage nieces sit in the far corner with their phones out, laughing and giggling over God only knows what. Louis and my older brothers sit and discuss law stuff. How boring.
Reflecting on this peaceful familial setting, it’s all I can do not to laugh aloud at the bomb Adrian and I are about to drop. The irony is not lost on me that my nefarious family can live the life they do and appear like the ideal family. Not to mention, commit their reprehensible acts without batting an eye, but they are going to lose their shit over my choice of husband. Maybe it won’t take us too long to get back to our sense of normality.
My mother asks me a question about some fabrics I’m considering using for the throw pillows of my next shoot when I hear the soothing sound of the piano cease. I look up to see Adrian taking a call. Putting the room at his back, he walks the short distance over to the windows. I hear her ask me another question, but I don’t answer as I’ve noticed Adrian’s stance get taller and tenser with his conversation. I think it may be my imagination, but then I catch a glimpse of his white-knuckled hold on the phone. I pass the book to my mother as I begin to go to him. But before I can stand, he hits the end button and spins toward me, his gaze searching as it meets mine. I see trouble brewing in those eyes of his. I can’t even imagine what could make him look like this.
I worry my lip a little as I wait for him to make a move. Never releasing me from his gaze, he takes a deep breath before he finally says, “Kimberly?” I hear my niece respond. “Will you and the girls take the kids into the playroom for a little while?”
Adrian has never asked anything of them, so I would imagine this triggers alarm bells for everyone because the room becomes silent and the kids start moving toward the door without any prompting. “Sure thing, Adrian,” she replies as she ushers them from the room, leaving only the adults.
Paralyzed, I sit in wonder at what is going on. I can’t make myself move even though I want to go to him and comfort him. Is it his father, his mother? He doesn’t make me wonder long. “My unit has been activated,” he says, “and we’re being sent back to Iraq.”
A sob erupts from my throat. I feel my mother startle and turn her eyes to me. I still can’t look away from Adrian. I see him swallow hard a couple of times, fighting off emotion. I hear my brothers start muttering about fucking politics, and I hear my father and Tripp’s father commence to discuss duty and the call to protect. I don’t think about any of that. All I can think is how messed up the situation is over there now and how my man is being sent over in the thick of it.
Finally, I’m able to pull myself from the couch, stumbling a little as I feel quite light-headed. Adrian’s brow furrows, but he doesn’t make a move to help me as I right myself pretty quickly.
Moving behind the piano, I run my hands up his chest and around his neck, bringing his forehead down to mine. I close my eyes and bring my lips to his, kissing him with everything I have in me. I hear a few startled gasps, but I can’t be bothered to care.
After a minute, I pull back and place little kisses on his lips while I murmur, “You’re going to be fine. We’re going to be fine. You’re so amazing at what you do, and I’ll be right here waiting for you when you return. I love you, Adrian. Do you hear me?” He nods at me. “We’re OK.” He nods again.
I’m so impressed with my family because it takes them a couple of minutes to break us up. Of course, it’s my mother’s voice that I hear. “Celeste, do you care to tell us what exactly is going on?”
I’m not the one who answers though. Adrian’s found his voice again and says what he’s been dying to say since day one. Spinning me around in his arms, he wraps them around me before he says, “Family, Celeste and I are getting married.”
I feel myself chuckle. I can’t believe he just said that. What happened to breaking it to them gently? Louis moves in to shake Adrian’s hand and say congratulations while my mother just sits in stony silence next to my sister-in-law, who waits for my mother’s reaction to determine how she’ll react. My brothers do much the same as they move to stand behind my father.
Tearing my glance from my mother, I seek out my father, who looks quite shocked but not angry as I’d feared. Maybe that’s to come later. He breaks our gaze, and mine follows his to my father-in-law. Ah, there’s angry. If I were a lesser woman, I’d wither up and die on the spot.
Chip looks toward my father and I hear him mutter, “Fix this. Fix it now,” before storming from the room.
My father stands and walks over to me. “Is this who you want, Celeste?”
I bristle at his use of that rude pronoun. Adrian has a damn name. He�
��s not a this. But a temper tantrum might not be helpful right now. So I answer his question. “Adrian’s who I want, who I need, who I deserve, Daddy.”
“So you’ve been sneaking around behind our backs then?”
Adrian answers for me. “No, not really. We’ve only been seeing each other a couple of weeks and were all set to tell you today—just not like this.”
“And you’ve already decided on marriage?” he asks disbelievingly.
“Daddy, we’ve been falling in love with each over the last couple of years.” I hear my mother’s startled gasp upon that confession. I look over to her. “I’m sorry, Mother, but it’s true. I wasn’t in love with Tripp, and you know it. Not that you cared. Either of you.” I meet my father’s gaze again. “Adrian and I didn’t jump into things, however. We were there for each other as friends until recently when it became more.” Adrian’s arms tighten around me before releasing me and asking to speak to my father alone.
I’m left with my mother who beckons me over to the couch to sit beside her before proceeding to shock the hell out of me. “I’m turning over a new leaf where you’re concerned, Celeste. If you want to be with Adrian, who am I to stop you? I only want for you to be happy, so I will support you.”
“Thank you, Mother.” She doesn’t reach out and hold me like I would if it were one of my children, but it’s the warmest feeling she’s ever given me, so it’s good enough for now.
Our ride home is quiet. The boys sense something is up. Adrian holds my hand as usual. The only difference being his thumb has numbed mine with the little path he’s worn with its constant movement. I don’t want to give this up. Not for even a moment much less however long I’m about to lose him for. Leaning my head back on the seat, I look over at his profile and smile. He glances toward me and gives me a tentative smile of his own. I mouth, “I love you.”
He mouths, “Thank you.”
It’s kind of an odd response, so it makes me grin a little wider. His eyes find their way back to the road.
Once we talk to the boys and explain how Adrian will be leaving us in four days, we make our tired way out to the sunroom. I’m really impressed with how well the boys took it. Of course, they don’t know the full extent of what is going on over there. Like true developing men and patriots, they are proud that Adrian will be going over to support his unit. Archer even said he couldn’t wait until he could join the Marine Corps. Again, my father would die. Finn jumped out and defended my dear old dad’s branch by declaring that he was going to be a Seal. Paris was quiet but smiled in all the right places. He’s a thinker that one, and I’m sure I’ll find out all about those thoughts real soon.
