"I know he did." I finally agreed. "You're exactly right."
"I don't want you to keep secrets. I'm asking you to love me openly and without fear or lies. I won't let you go and I won't ask you to stay quiet, Nick."
"I don't mean to react that way," my voice trailed off.
"I know," he paused, waiting for me to wipe my eyes. "Please hear me when I say this."
"I'm . . . I'm ready." I braced for Ryan's truth. "Go on."
"His secrets were twisted secrets. I won't ask you to keep those. I'm right here, standing by you. I promise I'll comfort you whenever you feel like running. If you try to run you'll have to go through me and if you do, you'll feel love, not fear."
I fell into his body and let him put his arms around me. He helped me mend a heart that had been broken since my father hit me on my behind in front of his drunken friend, all those years ago when I wasn't even five-years-old. When I had to stare at my dad's sunken eyes and sagging face, it made me want to escape and run as far as I could. I planned my escape each day.
For so many years, I'd hoped to find the father I knew he could be—the one that used to tinker in our basement and put together a bike for me, or work on his car. Each task was performed with clear, shining eyes and a brilliant mind. I longed for the bright smile I saw years ago—the one without sarcasm laced through it. I'd hoped my father’s eyes would light up for me again and that he would someday take me under his protection—sober and fully alive in love.
"My heart has ached for you from that first day I saw you last year. I can't find a place in my mind where we're not together. Do you feel that way or am I alone? Be honest."
"I feel it." I was sure I could see little stars in his eyes.
"Whatever path we choose and whatever fears arise, I know we can overcome them." His arms tightened around me.
I felt the comfort I had longed for.
Soothed and secure, I believed the safety he promised was real.
We'd found our connection and could stand together in whatever trauma came. He wasn't afraid to share his hurt. Together we could calm the storms and the frightened child within us.
"Thank you, my sweet Ryan." I kissed him all over his face, one after another. He smiled like an innocent child, his eyes squinting in delight. "I told your mom how much I love you and how she raised an extraordinary son. And . . ." I gulped. Counted to three.
"And what, Nicky?"
Chapter 40
S'mores Were Never So Sexy
"I told your mother I'm not going on the road trip with you. I'm so sorry. She made me—well, guess when it came down to it, I made myself feel intimidated."
"Oh, babe." His face showed disappointment. "Why did you tell her that?"
"She was so commanding . . . the questions she asked . . . it was as if I could feel her judgment right through the phone. It's um, if I go with you, she won't take me seriously. The inflection in her voice, there was no mistake in her mind I'd be your mistress or something."
"Even if that's her opinion, that's not—"
"Not what you think," I confirmed. "I know. I'm saying . . . some gut reaction is telling me her opinion of me would lesson. The acceptance from my parents and your mother is crucial. In fact, I think her opinion will matter even more than my mom's."
"I don't care. I just want us together."
"My reasoning sounds ridiculous. I agree it does," I interrupted. "I can't shake some of religious stuff, I admit, but still, I don't want her to think I'm using sex to open your heart. We've only really been together a few weeks, and—"
"Nicky, you don't understand that part of intimacy yet, but sex open hearts, communication, gets people to share and drop their defenses, and often helps people feel gentler to one another. It will be so much more than only physical between us. We've been—"
"I know," I nodded. "We've been working toward those intimate moments for more than a year. With your mother though, something in the way she asked . . . she's watching my moves. We need her on our side if you're going to mend fences." I put my arm through his. “Whatever happens with us, I know who you are. You're magnificent. Please be patient."
I kissed him.
Adjusted my position to get closer.
My hip touched his.
Took his hand in mine.
"Will you meet my mother when she visits?" He squeezed my hand.
"Of course, I will. A big part of her visit is to check me out."
"Yeah." Ryan smiled and couldn't help but laugh. Was he touched that his mother might care about his life that much?
"She worries that I'll break your heart," I told him. "I'm afraid I will, too. I'm trying to be careful and then something comes up I haven't experienced. I'm still discovering myself and I know I test your patience. There's never been anyone who's touched me and spoken to me like you have." I dipped my finger into the chicken salad and started to lick if off. Ryan lifted it to his lips, gently nibbled, sucked and pulledit in and out of his mouth. Oh, my God! I'm losing it! "I . . . I . . ."
"Did I interrupt you?" his voice dipped low.
"God, Ryan. You're . . ."
"Here for you." He licked his lips. "Continue."
"I can feel your love and I want to believe our love is meant to be forever and I hear what you're saying about sex. My sister has shared the same things with me about opening a person's soul to the entire universe if it's right. We haven't nearly explored everything but even the intimacy we've shared has opened my heart. I see . . . forever—that's what I want with you. I want to gaze at those stars in the sky."
He caressed my hair.
A hunger shone in his eyes and I knew my living room picnic would no longer satisfy him.
"Tell me about your writing." My chest felt too small to contain the joy I felt when he asked me about it. "Tell me how it moves you. Is it your passion?"
Once again he began snacking. It made me feel good that he enjoyed the little parts of my picnic. This time he assembled his S'mores. He picked up a marshmallow and popped it in his mouth. Placed another on a skewer to roast. I giggled as he walked on his knees to the fireplace.
He talks about my butt—his is pretty damn juicy.
As he knelt by the fire, I imagined us camping together on some random weekend. I'd watch him carry a stack of wood in his arms, his muscles bulging, make a fire, erect our tent and lay out the sleeping bag. Sparks and embers cracked, popped, and shot into the night sky.
"Do you want one?" He broke my dream bubble, pointing to his roasting marshmallow.
"I'll wait a while longer, thanks. I'm thrilled that you're enjoying what I prepared. What a boyfriend you are!"
"I enjoy you, lady. So whatever you prepare is a bonus."
He blew out his flaming marshmallow, put it on top of the chocolate he'd placed on one of the graham crackers, and then squished the entire sandwich with a second cracker. He licked a bit of melting chocolate from the side, walked back on his knees and sat down next to me.
"Well," I swiped my finger across his bottom lip to clean a bit of melted chocolate from his face and put it on my tongue. I could see the delight in his eyes, perhaps because I was growing bolder. "Back to writing, I've always loved it. I've kept journals since I was a little girl. I store them in my hope chest."
"You showed me when I spent the night in your bedroom," he reminded.
"Right. That's . . . yeah, I did. Journaling became a tool that has helped me sort through so much. Even now, when I review what I wrote from years ago? I understand situations differently. Putting it on paper is all the difference when it comes to patterns, meanings and behaviors I may have missed. Through my reviews, I see how I could have changed the outcome by changing my reaction."
"Give me an example." He continued eating his dessert. "I want to know everything."
I know you do. You never give up. Oh, those wonderful, thick, long, fingers of yours, the way they hold your dessert . . . it looks so small in your hands . . . your hands . . . I wish . . .
/>
He took a bite of the melting, chocolaty mess. The marshmallow oozed out and covered his lips and his fingertips. His tongue entranced me and I watched it closely, licking the sticky dessert from his hands. I wanted his tongue inside of my mouth.
Transfixed on his eyes as they focused on his task-at-hand—how best to eat the remaining sweetness without making more of a mess—was a treat of my own.
His brow furled.
His nose wrinkled.
He switched hands.
Cleaned his fingertips on one of them, switched to the other, and began again as he tried to keep up with the sticky sweetness.
I giggled to myself.
He tried to stay cool while licking and sucking his fingers.
No longer able to resist, I "stood" on my knees. Moved in front of him. I wanted the man who was mine in every way, especially witnessing the innocent boy in front of me relishing his S'mores.
I lifted his chin.
The corner of his mouth hinted at the eroticism of eating a hot, melting, sticky, dessert.
Without any explanation, I boldly took control of Ryan.
I leaned into him.
Ran my hands down his muscular arms.
Covered his cheeks in kisses.
Licked both lips slowly.
I knew I had him. I moaned, tasting my irresistible, sexy, baseball player boyfriend.
"Mmm, that tastes so good," I said with a slow, exaggerated tone that purred. "I couldn't resist watching my sexy boyfriend play with my dessert." I laughed a little, considering the suggestive innuendo I'd just presented.
"Are you flirting with me, Ms. Young?" He raised an eyebrow, obviously enjoying my frisky attitude.
"I'm not only flirting," I ran my hands through his hair. "I'm saying it plain and simple . . . I want more."
"More, huh?" He put down the dessert. Pulled me close. My breath escaped me with the force of our bodies coming together. We held on to each other's back, arms, wrists, and waists.
My hair tumbled around my shoulders.
His hair was tossed and ready for me to do whatever I wanted to it. A dozen possibilities rushed through my mind.
"I'm all in, sweet boyfriend." I traced the phoenix tattoo on his big bicep and swayed into him, my body surrendering and softening.
Ryan gathered my body. He surrounded me in every way. Nuzzled his nose against my temple. Brushed my lips with a delicate kiss. It was more than an embrace. As he lowered my body on the fluffy blankets and lay on top of me . . . it was as if he took me to the stars and back.
End of Part I
I hope you enjoyed the first four novels of The Broken Bottles Series, Part I, and have gained some insight into the difficulties of forming relationships of all sorts when growing up in an alcoholic family.
Although you may not realize it, authors really need your review. Please leave one at least on Amazon, and if you have time, also on Goodreads on my author site, Pamela Taeuffer.
Here are the links:
Amazon: bit.ly/AmazingHeart
Goodreads: bit.ly/GoodreadsAmazingHeart
I invite you to read the preview of Part II where Nicky continues to mature and grow, taking bigger risks and considers major shifts in her life—shifts she is certain she needs to break her family's dysfunctional heritage.
Please sign up for my newsletter and e-mail me to receive a free preview of book five, Rising Heart, Part II of the Broken Bottles Series. In your subject within your email be sure to reference: RISING HEART.
Broken Bottles Series,
Part II
Hello readers!
With book four, Amazing Heart, Part I has ended.
While Nicky continues to fight some of the same battles as in Shadow Heart, Book 1, especially with sex and intimacy, she is not at the same place.
She's more aware now of what she doesn't want. She's able to stand up for herself in ways she never has before. She is close again with her sister, and has made new friends, Tara, Alex, and Ethan. New friends are major steps for her, and to have made three is a celebration!
As much as her family has let her down, she still wants a respectful and loving relationship with them. Nicky is trying to understand her mother and father differently, considering perhaps their own past has shaped their present.
Full-on sex is still an uncertainty. It's more than sex. For Nicky, it's letting someone in her body, a body she's kept protected and shielded so her darkness, insecurity and vulnerability are hidden. She is trying to come to terms with the internal battle she's having with her spiritual beliefs—beliefs that formed during the turbulent years of her father's addiction—and how they entwine with her awakening passions.
* * * * *
Part II also consists of four novels. We'll see Nicky explore love and sex in a deeper and more sensual way. These novels definitely call to the New Adult, College Bound Woman, and also the Transitioning Woman.
Embracing the vivid, tasteful, details of physical love, while trying to bring the intimacy she never imagined possible to her life should be easy, right? But think about this . . . are you comfortable with your lover surprising you with a whisper in your ear? Can you look into your lover's eyes as you talk passionately, angrily or you make love to each other in a new position?
Another side of Nicky is maturing. Ethan is now a close friend. She is about to meet Ryan's mother, still will confront Jerry to tell him that she's fallen in love with Ryan. How will he react to the news? Is he still in denial about Terrie or will he admit he's already moved on?
And then, there is Jesse Johnson, the woman from Ryan's past that just doesn't give up easily.
The last novel in Part II sees Nicky finally going on a long awaited road trip with Ryan. What will she encounter there? Will she see a man who is different from the sensitive, loving one she's come to know? What will she do with the world she feared, the mature and beautiful model-like women wanting to be with Ryan when she's across the country, three-thousand miles from home? Will these women be the final nails in their coffin?
Perhaps, if she's really grown, she'll make an informed decision of where she wants her life to go. Will that be an independent woman, free and unencumbered, her whole life ahead of her, at Stanford?
I hope to see you in Part II!
Resources
Books
Dirty Words, Ellen Sussman
How to Please a Woman In & Out of Bed, Daylee Deanna Schwartz
It Will Never Happen to Me, Claudia Black, PhD
Sexy Words for Writers, Stefanie Olsen
The Emotion Thesaurus, Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi
Thinking Like A Romance Writer, Dahlia Evans
The Bald-Headed Hermit & The Artichoke, A.D. Peterkin
The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Amazing Sex, Sari Lockner, Ph.D.
The Romance Writer’s Phrase Book, Jean Kent and Candace Shelton
Organizations/Web sites
Information on rape - www.sexualityresources.com
What to expect reporting rape - www.crimescene.com
Pandora’s Project - www.pandys.org
Adult Children of Alcoholics: www.adultchildren.org
Adult Children of Dysfunctional Families – www.AdultChildrenofDysfunctionalFamilies.com
Al-Anon/Alateen – www.al-anon.org
Alcoholics Anonymous – www.alcoholics-anonymous.org
Co-Anon Family Groups – www.co-anon.org
Co-dependents Anonymous – www.codependents.org
Eating Addictions Anonymous – www.dcregistry.com/users/eatingaddictions
National Association for Children of Alcoholics – www.nacoa.org
Overeaters Anonymous – www.overeatersanonymous.org
Women for Sobriety – www.womenforsobriety.org
Helping Family Members of Friends – www.ncadd.org
Ten Ways Families Can Help – www.thecounselingcenter.org
Adults & Drug Abuse Affects Everyone in the Family – www.adultchildren.org
&n
bsp; Non-profit organization that provides information
Survivors of sexual assault: The Joyful Heart Foundation: Provides information of all sorts, writers, actors, programs, news releases, and more on sexual assault and domestic violence:
www.joyfulheartfoundation.org
Acknowledgements
A s with any life project, there are many people who influenced my journey. From friends who exist only in my memories, to people who have crossed my path in sweet or dramatic ways, I hold all of you to my heart, even if you’re not mentioned below.
For my beautiful sister, whose life ended much too early—I understand you more now than I ever did.
For my father, I wish I had the maturity back then to have understood. I couldn’t have stopped you, but I would’ve spoken differently. You gave me so many twisted gifts, and I thank you in spite of everything.
Claude, my husband, and Aaron, my son, I love you guys so much that sometimes I think I’m sick because the hurt is so deep and the joy is so mountainous.
Louise—I couldn’t have done this without you.
My sweet girlfriends from childhood—Colleen, Patty, Lorraine, Kathie, Marilyn
TS Babes—(Santo, Spanky, Uno, GG, Wiseone, BL, Nine, Catnip xxoo) you know who you are, thanks for so much fun during my research.
My editors, Catharine Bramkamp, Robbi Sommers Bryant, and Crissi Langwell, you are awesome and have gone above and beyond!
Mom, you still have problems saying I love you. I get it now.
Special Offer for Readers
of Amazing Heart:
For live chats, advance chapters, exclusive announcements, pre-publication dates of future books, and free giveaways, visit:
Website: www.PamelaTaeuffer.com
Newsletter: www.PamelaTaeuffer.com/newsletter
Blog: www.pamelataeuffer.com/dare-to-be-vulnerable
E-mail: [email protected]
AMAZING HEART (Broken Bottles Series Book 4) Page 27
