Gypsy Kiss: Book 1: Micah (The Gypsy Kiss Series)

Home > Other > Gypsy Kiss: Book 1: Micah (The Gypsy Kiss Series) > Page 11
Gypsy Kiss: Book 1: Micah (The Gypsy Kiss Series) Page 11

by Heidi J Thomas


  “Micah!” I squealed.

  “What?”

  “I can’t sit on your knee!”

  He frowned. “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not a child! And because I’ll crush you!”

  He rolled his eyes at me. “You’re not nearly as heavy as you think you are, you know. I’m comfy, are you?”

  “That’s not-”

  “Are you comfy, Jewls?”

  “Well, yeah…but-”

  “Good, me too. Relax, Jewls. Please. Coffee wasn’t code for something else, I’m not after anything. Just a coffee, a cuddle and a chat.”

  I had to admit, it felt good to have him hold me like that, but my heart was just hammering in my chest.

  “What do you want to talk about?” I heard myself say.

  He shrugged, smiling and tucked some of my hair behind my ear, brushing the back of his hand over my cheek gently. The touch sent a ripple through me.

  “Us. You. Me. how about…we each have three questions? How does that sound?”

  “Uh…okay…” I said, though I was a little worried about what he might ask.

  “Okay, I’ll go first.” He thought for a minute. “Jewls. How did you get your name?”

  My smile broadened at that. “Oh well…when my dad proposed to my mum, he didn’t have a lot of money and he couldn’t afford a ring. He said to my mum…’one day I will give you jewels.’ When I was born, and my dad held me for the first time, my mum said to him…‘this is better than jewels.’ And my dad said…‘this is Jewls.’ That’s how I got my name.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Wow. That’s a lovely story. And your mum and dad, are they still married?”

  My smile faded beyond my control and I felt the familiar ache deep inside. “My dad died suddenly, uh…seven years ago.”

  Micah’s smile faded too. “Oh…I’m sorry.”

  I sighed and then shook it off, grinning. “My turn. And by the way…that counts as two questions.”

  He pouted at that, and it was the most endearing thing I had ever seen. “Oh, you play dirty. Okay…your first question?”

  I grinned. “Dirty Dancing…why?”

  He smiled back. “My mum…she loved the film, and the music. I would go as far as to say…she was obsessed. It’s one of my main childhood memories involving her, since I wasn’t very old when she died. Next question…” he said, and I correctly surmised that he wasn’t entirely comfortable talking about her, that it was painful. I understood that. He shifted a little and tightened his grip on me.

  I frowned. “Am I squashing your leg?”

  “No,” he said, the ghost of a cheeky smile on his face. “Next question.”

  I leaned back to get a good look at him, raising both eyebrows in shock. “I don’t believe you, that so didn’t count!”

  “Next question, Miss Dempsey.” He said. We were both laughing now, and I let out a deep sigh.

  I wanted my last question to be something that made him laugh, purely because I loved to hear him laugh, to see his face light up. But it occurred to me that I had a real opportunity here, and I shouldn’t let it go to waste.

  I hesitated for just a moment before continuing. I looked right into his eyes, making it clear that this was important, that I needed a real, serious answer.

  “This…all of this, what you’re telling me you want, and feel…is it for real? Are you for real?”

  He met my gaze with a serious one of his own, all humour now gone from his expression and he nodded slowly.

  “Yes…it is. What I feel, is real. Not a bet, not a game, not a set up or a trap. Real.”

  I felt the air leave my lungs and a single tear slip from my eye and roll down my cheek. He wiped it away with a gentle finger and sat forward a little, leaning in closer to me.

  “Time for my last question, Jewls. Do you think…one day, you might agree to be my girlfriend?”

  I smiled broadly, in spite of my overwhelming emotions and slowly nodded. “Yeah…” I said, just finding enough air in my lungs to speak. “Yeah, I do…” I grinned again and winked. “One day…”

  He opened his mouth, probably to tell me I was cheeky, or teasing him, being mean, and then simply closed it again, instead just smiling as though he couldn’t believe I had actually said yes. To be fair, neither could I.

  But I was done with being afraid. What had been the point in running and trying to build a new life if I had no intention of actually living it?

  I had literally risked my life leaving, and I had wasted eight years of my life already, I didn’t want to waste any more time.

  I believed he meant it. But I still couldn’t understand why he was drawn to me, when he could literally have anyone, and I didn’t know how I would ever hang on to him if he were mine.

  I was going to have to work on continuing to mend myself if I was ever to have any hope of being happy with Micah. At that time moment my confidence was way below what it needed to be and my fear at an all-time high. But I believed he could help me, and maybe, just maybe, he was the key to my healing once and for all.

  He swallowed and thought carefully for a minute. “Um…bonus question? One each?”

  I grinned and nodded. “If I can go first?”

  He nodded, clearly intrigued. “Go on…”

  I thought for a minute. “Your name…it’s as unusual, if not more so than mine. Where did you get it?”

  “My mum gave it to me.” He said with a cheeky wink. My eye rolling apparently made it clear his sarcasm was unappreciated and he sighed. “‘Our surname Machvaya is eastern European. Since mum died and dad left, Nic has tried to distance me and my siblings from our uh…heritage. He worried it would hold us back. There’s a stigma attached to it, you see.”

  “Stigma?” I said, frowning.

  “Yeah. See, I was drawn to the fair, Nic says it’s in my blood, like it or not. Gypsy’s, Jewls. We’re gypsies. Well…by name, anyway. Not by practice.”

  I nodded, surprised. “Oh…oh, right.”

  “Yeah. People think gypsies are all thieves and liars. Some of them are. But Nic raised us different. To challenge the stereotype.”

  I shrugged, indicating that it didn’t bother me if he were a gypsy or not. I didn’t care who he was or where he came from, I just liked him. I had never been a fan of stereotypes.

  “Good on him,” I said, “though you shouldn’t have to hide who you are or where you’re from. But I get it. I hate stereotypes.” I smiled a little. “I know this is breaking the rules, but can I ask another question?”

  He grinned. “Jewls, you have me wrapped around your little finger, you can ask me anything.”

  I considered that and decided to ask the question I was most curious about, something that had been bugging me from that first day we had met.

  “Okay…so...how come you’ve never had a proper relationship before?”

  He rolled his eyes and smiled, amused. “What sort of question is that?”

  I shrugged and half-smiled. “I find it incredulous. I mean I have no trouble at all believing you’ve…put it about a bit…”

  He scoffed at that. “You have me pegged as quite the man whore, don’t you Jewls? You think I’m easy and just after the next easy lay?”

  “I’ve seen you in action, Micah. At work, seen what you’re like with the girls.”

  “That’s my job,” he said, “I flirt because it gets them to come on the ride, spend their money. That’s all. That said, I have always had a healthy sex life, yeah.”

  “But no girl has ever caught your eye and made you want…I dunno…more than sex?”

  “Sure,” he said, “well sort of. There’s been times I’ve liked someone enough to give it a go, with something more, but it’s never worked out, for a few reasons I guess. Looks…they are the first thing that draws you to someone. No use people saying that’s not true, because it is. When you fancy someone you look twice, something stirs in you. At that stage…you’re looking for quality. But…as time goes o
n and a relationship tries to form, you start looking for quantity, for something more than a pretty face. Women do, anyway. And there…I always kinda fail.”

  I frowned, confused. “I don’t understand…”

  He sighed and sat up, thinking carefully. I shifted in his lap, assuming it was an indication he wanted me to move, I figured his leg had to have gone dead by now, but he squeezed his arms around me, holding me to him. The fingers of his right hand lazily slid up and down my back.

  “Okay Jewls…think of it this way. You have a Christmas tree. And under the tree, there’s loads of presents. But one stands out. It has shiny paper, much shinier than the others. Maybe a bow on the top…it’s been expertly wrapped and it just looks…so amazing next to the others in the cheap paper. As Christmas gets nearer you get more excited about what’s in that wonderful parcel. And then the time comes to look, to go a little deeper and…it’s a scarf. It looked amazing but it’s just a scarf and the disappointment is monumental.”

  I sat silently, waiting for him to go on, before I realised he was done, watching me expectantly. I burst out laughing and shook my head.

  “Micah Machvaya, you are not and never could be just a scarf!”

  He grinned at that and I swear I saw him blush. “A very nice scarf I’m sure, but just a scarf.”

  “Shut up!” I laughed. “You’re not a scarf. And if you were, you’d be one of those exquisite ones made of pure cotton or silk, made in some far off foreign land, that’s a vast array of different bright colours and turns heads in admiration. And you would belong draped around a beautiful lady, a princess maybe…”

  He raised one eyebrow and I realised I had gotten carried away, the writer in me escaping out my big mouth. I felt the heat of a blush spread across my cheeks.

  He flipped me over in one smooth motion before I had a chance to protest, swinging a leg over me and straddling me, grinding up against my body, his tee shirt riding up a little to reveal that flat hairy stomach smattered with dark hair that I loved so much, lusted over. He hovered over me, his lips almost touching mine – almost, but not quite – and met my eyes with his, making it impossible to look away. My emotions were scattered all over the floor, an odd mix of lust, arousal and slight fear.

  I had always had an issue with personal space, when people got too close to me it scared me sometimes, I found the sensation suffocating and scary. I’d love to be able to say that Micah being that close wasn’t scary, that with him it was different, but the fear was still there, the uncomfortable knot in my stomach. And yet with him it was thrilling too. I liked him that close to me but it also terrified me. The realisation made me angry.

  I had felt many emotions over the years when I thought about Andrew. Fear was the most obvious one. Of course I was afraid of him, when he had snapped, which happened more and more as time went on, his eyes glazed over and I knew he was going to hurt me, yes…I was scared of him.

  Disappointment was another emotion I associated with him. Because I wanted him to love me properly and I realised fairly early on that was never going to happen. I had settled for second best when I married Andrew, and I was always going to be disappointed when I didn’t get the relationship with him that I wanted – that I now wanted with Micah.

  Chapter Eight

  ~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~

  Jewls

  Despair, that was a major emotion I had experienced over and over with Andrew. That feeling of just being trapped and being unable to see any way out.

  But that anger…that was new. I was mad, because I realised that for all the bruises he had given me, this right here was going to be his real parting gift to me. The bruises were long gone, but the psychological damage was going to last a lifetime. The feelings of inadequacy, the claustrophobia, the inability to be physically close to someone without feeling suffocated – that was his legacy. He had broken me down and made me weak, and I hated that even though I had left him, I was still living with the effects of our relationship. Like he had left his fingerprints all over me. The thought made me shiver. I wanted to let Micah all the way in, I wanted to trust him but I felt completely incapable of doing so. The realisation sat bitterly inside me.

  Micah was everything I wanted, and we were never going to be able to have a relationship because I wasn’t capable. And sooner or later he would get bored of pursuing me and getting nowhere and he would move on. And maybe there would be others come along, but the same thing would happen again.

  I was damaged goods and that was never going to change, no matter what Micah said or did. He could tell me a hundred times a day that he thought I was beautiful, exceptional, what he wanted…I would probably never be able to fully believe him.

  I felt my whole body tense up, torn between wanting to shove him off and create distance – lots of distance – between us, and wanting to have him closer, wanting to grab him and kiss him. I could feel his breath on me, hot and heavy, and – good God – I could feel his erection pressed against my thigh. Jesus, if he tried anything on now I was likely to knee him in the balls on sheer reflex and run crying in floods of tears. My body might want him, my heart too…but my mind was not ready for this, not even remotely.

  “Draped around a beautiful lady, huh…? Like…like this…?” he trailed kisses along my neck, from my ear to my jaw, each one sending a jolt of electricity through me.

  In those moments, where his lips touched my skin, something extraordinary happened, something I never imagined possible.

  I forgot.

  I forgot everything – my fear, my emotional turmoil, all of it. The only thought, the only sensation of any description, was him, Micah. He took over my entire world and made it good.

  I gulped and managed to nod. “Uh huh…mmm…yeah, kinda like that…”

  He nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response and let out a low moan, almost as though collecting himself and trying to backtrack a little.

  “I want to kiss you so badly, Jewls. But I know you’re not ready. I can tell…there’s like an invisible barrier around you. I intend to break it down, but there’s no rush. All the time in the world. I don’t know…what happened to you, but I do know I can make it better, when you’re ready to let me in. No rush, no pressure. Okay?”

  I nodded stupidly, my senses a gooey mess on the floor.

  He smiled brightly, his beautiful eyes sparkling and nodded. He leaned forward again and kissed my nose, and then rubbed our noses together affectionately, smiling again.

  I never would have believed that any man could look at me like that, least of all a man like Micah. How on earth had an ordinary girl like me caught the eye of such a beautiful human being? This was utter madness and too good to be true.

  And yet I found myself once again daring to believe. That’s what he did for me, above all else, with one simple look. He made me believe in myself. He made me believe in the fairy tale. And above all, with one simple look, he made me feel loved. He was already chipping away at my defences, at that invisible barrier around my heart.

  That’s what Micah did for me. And it was wonderful, exhilarating and scary as hell.

  ~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~

  Micah

  It was a risky move, jumping on her like that, and a mistake. I knew that almost right away. It was a mistake, for two reasons.

  First, I was horny as hell, and being straddled on her like that was so arousing and beyond frustrating. Any other girl I had been with, any other girl, and that moment there would have ended in hot, fast, rough sex. That was never on the cards with Jewls. Never, or at least not yet. And leaning over her like that, my rock hard cock as obvious as hell bulging in my jeans…it felt wrong, crude somehow. Like I was trying to mark my territory or something, which I wasn’t but…I could see almost right away how it looked.

  The second reason was her reaction, which she did her best – unsuccessfully – to cover up. I felt her body tense and I could almost sense her fear as though it were my own. It was more than nerves; it was fear,
though I could tell it was conflicting inside her with the same lust that I felt. I think – I hope – I made up for my less than gentlemanly behaviour by letting her know I was in no rush, and that it was okay to feel the way she did, and she did relax, but I still felt kind of bad. Still, I was learning just like she was. And just like Jewls, I was in unfamiliar territory here.

  The big league.

  After I moved my stupid big butt off her knee and sat beside her again I felt her exhale and I shared that feeling. Like coming down off a major adrenalin rush.

  “So,” I said, keen to move on, “my question. It’s my birthday on the twenty-fifth of this month. My family – well, my sister – are planning a barbeque to celebrate. And I was wondering if you would come?”

  She seemed genuinely surprised at that and raised her eyebrows, actually pointing to herself. “Me?”

  I grinned and nodded. “Yes Jewls. You. My house, for my birthday barbeque on the twenty-fifth. What do you say?”

  I waited for her to come up with an excuse why she couldn’t make it. So I was surprised when she smiled broadly and nodded. “I’d love to.”

  “Great!” I said, happily. “Yeah, that’s great.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~

  Jewls

  I loved spending time with Micah. Be it at work, walking home, sat on the beach eating our lunch…I just loved being around him. I could not get enough of the man, more so since we seemed to be more on the same page now. I had made a real effort to let him in, to relax a little and try to trust him. I can’t say I completely trusted him – I didn’t completely trust anyone – but I felt safe enough with him to be myself and by some minor miracle he seemed to like me just as I was. It was surreal to say the least. I was enough, for the first time in my life.

  At least, I thought I was.

  What I have learned about me and Micah is there will always be something to trip us up. The next drama is always just around the corner. It’s the just the type of couple we are.

 

‹ Prev