“Milk and cookies and I’ll agree,” I teased.
“No cookies, but more rosewater custard if you want it,” he offered.
I shook my head and groaned. “After all that? You’re kidding!”
He shrugged, letting me know he wasn’t. Where does he put it? I wondered, watching him turn off the lights. His body, muscular and toned, showed no signs of his voracious appetite.
I met him by the stairs and we walked up to the master bedroom and straight into the bathroom.
“This will be a soak. So keep your hands to yourself, Ms. Salomé,” Jonas said in a light tone as he turned on the nozzle of the tub, dropping the contents of some of the jarred dispensers from along the back wall into the water.
I had already started brushing my teeth and almost choked on my toothbrush.
He walked over and joined me as he began to brush his own. I laughed at the ease of us together, despite all the chaos in my life. As soon as I finished, I told him how much I liked this…us living our lives together.
His eyes glimmered. “Yes. I like that too,” he said. I gaped as I watched his skin cleaning and buffing routine, until he paused and opened a cabinet filled with all the things I had from the hotel spa, freeing me to go about my own ritual.
Jonas turned off the water and I noticed a bit of foam on the surface and the smell of lavender. “A bubble bath?”
He came up behind me and tugged up my shirt. I lifted my arms so he could continue to pull it over my head.
His phone beeped just then, so he paused touching me and took it out of his pocket.
“Get in. I’ll be right back.” He sighed and answered, “Hello?”
I slid my sweatpants down my legs and removed them. My ears perked in hopes of hearing the caller’s voice, but he walked a few paces away before I could catch anything.
I looked at him inquisitively, but his eyes shifted away from me as he padded to the door. “I’ll be right back. Think about a book we can read,” he called out. I finished taking off my clothes and placed them away from the tub. Climbing into the tub, I marveled at its length, my feet unable to touch the end. This gave me a temporary distraction from the person my mind suspected was on the phone at…I looked around and found a small clock on the wall. Ten? It’s not that late.
I leaned back and tried to float, sitting up when Jonas walked back in a few minutes later, a puckering now appearing between his perfectly arched brows.
My eyes widened. “Everything okay?”
“Nothing for you to worry about. I’ll be holding an early meeting here tomorrow, so David will take you to your appointment in the morning,” he said, as if formulating a plan. He removed his clothing quickly, then climbed in behind me, splashing the water around as he settled his long legs on either side of me. My breath caught as his arm slipped around my waist and anchored me against his chest, feeling the soft hair brush against my back. I took a deep breath.
He lifted a sponge and dunked it into the water, then squeezed it over my hair repeatedly until it was damp. He next filled his hands with a lavender scented shampoo and started to gently massage my scalp.
“More spoils,” I murmured.
Jonas continued to massage and soap up my hair as I drifted. “I take care of mine,” he responded.
“I do the same,” I said as I went to pick up a sponge to use on him.
“Another time,” he said, stilling my hand. “You need to indulge me tonight.”
I sighed, but let out a groan when he moved to massaging my shoulders. “Alright,” I giggled.
He chuckled and kissed my shoulder. “I enjoy hearing you laugh. I want you happy.”
My heart expanded. “I…I am with you. I want you happy, too.”
He kissed my cheek, then began washing my shoulders. “I am,” he said near my ear. “Have you thought of a book?”
I sighed and moaned when he reached around and massaged my breasts. “Byron, Burns, Yeats, Cummings?”
“Romantic poems we call out to each other in the night,” he mused as he filled the sponge with body wash and massaged it lower over my stomach “I had something else in mind. Spread your legs wider.”
I gasped, but complied as he washed my pussy. When he was done, he cupped me as he had yesterday at the table, making every nerve in my body rise in response to him and the significance of his claim.
I wiggled and he moved his arm around my waist to keep me still. When I was, he started rubbing the sides of my clit, his other hand journeying under me to the entrance of my anus. “I’ll fuck you there soon.”
The way he was teasing my clit, I wouldn’t deny him anything. I moaned and he took that as a yes to push his finger through the tight muscles there. I tensed as pain overcame the pleasure I was getting.
“Try to relax. Push back for me,” Jonas eased his finger out and I tried again, but I was no longer focused on the pleasure. Jonas, ever tuned to me, removed his hands and cuddled me.
“I’ll try with my tongue. Move up to your knees and lean over the edge and hold on,” he commanded.
I shook my head and laughed nervously. “No way.”
He paused, then released me. “I won’t push you right now, but tell me why,” he said, turning me around to face him. He quietly washed himself as I searched for a response, feeling my face burn. “Some things are just better left alone,” I mumbled.
He chuckled. “For tonight. I’ll do it when you become more comfortable with me and your body.”
I bit the inside of my mouth. “I take it this is something you’ve done before?”
“Oh, you want to talk about this tonight?” he asked, his tone playful.
“Yes.” I was quiet for a few minutes and he took the nozzle hose and rinsed my hair. “Has anyone done that to you?” I pressed on for more discussion.
“Yes, and I enjoyed it,” he said.
I took in a short breath. “Oh.”
This brought out a laugh from Jonas. “I forget how innocent you are. I’ve corrupted you.”
I snorted though my skin flush. “I was in a sexual relationship for three years. We didn’t just do missionary.” I didn’t want to discuss my one and only past experience, but his cockiness still bothered me. He was right in a way though. Declan and I had occasional shower sex and sometimes tried doggie-style. For the most part though, he was focused primarily on his own pleasure. Our routine consisted of blowjobs, missionary, and me on top. The last one became my least favorite, because he would rest his hands behind his head and seemed content to let me do all the work.
Luckily, Jonas wasn’t interested in the details. “I don’t want to imagine that asshole touching you,” he gritted, moving my hair back and squeezing out the excess water.
I looked down. “I only mentioned my past relationship because I didn’t come to you a virgin. If I’m holding you back…”
He climbed out of the tub, pulling me up with him. Placing his hands on the side of my face, tilting it up, he said, “I don’t want a virgin. You’re not holding me back, and I’m happy with you as you are. I’m sorry if my teasing upset you.”
I lifted the corner of my mouth. “It didn’t upset me. I do like what we do together. I was just surprised.” He kissed me deeply.
“I’ve only begun to explore that sexy body of yours, and fuck you all the ways I can and will. Including burying my tongue in that hot ass of yours,” he said, adding in a swat on my bottom.
I swatted him back. This had him lifting me and wrapping my legs around him as he kissed me passionately.
“No sex tonight, my beautiful nymph,” he said and put me down on my feet.
Who decided that? He kissed my pouting mouth as he dried me off. I began brushing through my long hair, but even that left me feeling frustrated.
Jonas seemed to sympathize and relented without a word, dropping to his knees and gently licking and nuzzling between my thighs until I opened for him. I moaned and almost lost my footing as all my senses went to the incredible sensation o
f Jonas, his tongue lashing over my slick folds and slipping over my distended clit. I didn’t hold out as the orgasm came, just arched as his hand held me in place while he sucked. I shook and he held me, taking every tremble I had to give, until I floated down and was lifted in his arms. He carried me to bed and I crawled under the duvet. “Thank you,” I spoke softly.
“Anything for you, my Tiger Lily,” he whispered back and settled down next to me.
Reaching over to the bedside table, he pulled out a paperback book, his attention on me. “I also have a suggestion for a book. I found a new copy of Peter Pan on the shelves downstairs. How about we read from it?”
My jaw dropped open as pain took over my peace. “Absolutely not,” I stuttered out as tears rose in my eyes and I stared back him in disbelief. He knew what that book meant to me. The memories it would unhinge, and the hurt I was still feeling over Declan stealing my copy from my deceased father. Reading it, I imagined, would be like a jagged knife cutting at my heart. “It hurts to even think about that book. I mean, why would you even suggest that? What are you thinking?”
I started to retreat, and he dropped the book and pulled me into his arms.
“I was thinking I wanted to be a part of the loving memory you shared with your parents. The first night we were together, you shared your story. I thought maybe we could create a new memory,” he said in a gentle tone.
My vision blurred as tears dripped down my face. An indescribable mix of feelings ravaged through my heart and mind as I contemplated the depths of his understanding and care. I didn’t think it was possible to love him more, but he continued to surprise and overwhelm me. Still, the pain of my loss was infused in the words of that book, which I could practically recite from memory. Memories of which I had both good and bad. But here was my lover, ready to create a new one with me.
My lip quivered. “I can’t read it…yet.”
He kissed me tenderly. “I’ll read first. When you’re ready, you will.”
Jonas opened the drawer again and took out his glasses. Then he opened his arms for me to fill them. I did, resting my head on his chest.
“All children, except one, grow up…” he read.
I STOOD OUTSIDE ON the sidewalk with Jonas the next morning, trying to convince him to return inside the loft. A light mist of rain fell down from the clouded sky above our heads, a less-than-veiled threat to open up and pour down on us at any given minute, something I had pointed out to Jonas before he sought to see me off for my therapy appointment this morning. Jonas, unruffled and with steady hands, busied himself instead with securing a scarf around my neck. Dressed in only a designer suit, crisp white shirt, and silk tie, he would fare worse from the rain than my simple button-down shirt and jeans would.
“The session is only forty minutes. Please go back inside,” I said, renewing my argument after a loud clap of thunder.
He continued to fuss with my scarf. “If I get rained on, I’ll change. My first meeting is… here soon. I wanted to see you off. I know therapy can be difficult.”
My hands reached up and grasped his and we stared at each other. I was rendered speechless in this moment. So overwhelmed by the feelings I had for this incredible man. His deep voice gliding over the passages of Peter Pan last night, pausing to wipe every tear that dropped from my eyes, easing the knot of pain I had attached to the work that brought me such joy and love growing up. With every page a memory came; good memories.
Jonas and the last few nights would forever be good memories. His concern and care had completely undone me, and I doubted I’d ever recover from the attachment he had orchestrated between us to instill in my mind and heart that I belonged to him. And now this morning, before his workday started, he was trying to ease my worries.
The thought of his work disruption had me trying to assure him once again that he didn’t need to fuss over me. My mind worked to counter the thrill I had in basking in his care, fearful of indeed being the spoiled princess Declan had labeled me.
“I’ll be fine. I’m going to try. And maybe it will help me,” I said, giving him a wide smile I pushed all the way to my eyes.
“We’ll need to leave to avoid morning rush hour,” David said, opening an umbrella and holding it over us.
Jonas eyed me, then pressed his lips to my forehead. This action signaled David to open the door to his car, and I climbed in, with Jonas immediately seeking to belt me in place. “I will try for lunch, but if anything changes I’ll text you. Perhaps we can go out to dinner this evening. And we should hear back from your doctor with your test results today.”
I nodded and he pecked my lips before closing the door. David quickly moved to the driver’s seat and started the car. My heart stuttered as I watched Jonas standing with the umbrella as David pulled away from the curb. He remained there until I couldn’t see him any longer. I chewed my bottom lip, took my phone out, and sent a quick text.
You better go back inside!
After a few minutes he replied.
Better? You ordering me around?
I grinned and suspected he was doing the same.
If it keeps you from getting wet… I typed and pressed send.
Are you wet?
I licked my lips and moved my thighs against each other.
You should know. You checked before we left the loft :-)
He responded.
Then your answer should have been yes.
I sent back.
Yes.
The car felt suddenly too warm. I eased my arms out of my jacket. Staring out of the window, I shook my head. A new text message arrived from Jonas.
Have you seen my glasses?
I wrote back.
You left your Clark Kent glasses on the bedside table.
He replied.
I’m Clark Kent?
I laughed to myself.
Yes. You’re my superman too. After a minute, I got a text back.
I want to be for you, Tiger Lily.
My heart leapt.
You don’t ever need to be. I’d take Jonas Crane any day.
Why?
I touched my lips. Then typed.
Because I love you. Do you love me? I quickly erased the message and wrote.
Because I love you. Now I don’t want to be responsible for you missing your meeting so stop texting! Xox
He wrote back.
I‘ll have to remind you who gives the orders. My meeting is about to start. I’ll talk to you soon.
I felt a pang in my chest as I stared down at the phone. I knew I needed to give him time. But still, I couldn’t help the longing I felt to hear the words “I love you” back.
The car lurched forward on the brakes, and I wiped the condensation from the window to see what was happening. The traffic was bumper-to-bumper on the roadway. Would I be late and miss the appointment? The appointment I don’t want to go to anyway? I grumped as I sat back on the seat. Sure, I told Jonas I thought it would help, but I couldn’t help my skepticism. I looked out the window again. David had found a traffic break and zigged through the cars to take advantage. The car moved fast along the highway, leaving me with little time to prepare for my psychiatric session.
Before long, David was through the exit and up the avenues, pulling up to park in front of a brick and stone building with an awning. I eyed the gold and marble lobby through the large glass windows as I opened the door and climbed out before David could make it around to open the door for me. He gave me an admonishing shake of his head and smiled at the sheepish grin I returned back to him. We walked inside and he handled the initial exchange with security, leaving his contact information as a further layer of Jonas’s security. I didn’t find this necessary, as Declan wouldn’t even know about this place or location, but I didn’t intrude in their conversation. Afterward, David offered an encouraging smile as we boarded the elevator to the eleventh floor.
My heartbeat sped up upon reaching the floor. We stepped out and headed to the wooden door with the gold
placard that read, “Isla Bridgewater, M.D. Ph.D. Psy.D.” All bases covered, I mused as I walked up to the door, already imagining a powdered elderly woman with a tight smile and polished leather office.
I pictured the space decorated with framed degrees and ultra-comforting music to lull clients into a relaxed state as they divulged the contents of their lives while Isla Bridgewater, M.D. Ph.D. Psy.D, would sit there and listen. She’d be politely taking notes and handing out brochures at the end of the appointment.
What I found when David opened the door to the office was not at all what I had imagined. Sure, the waiting area had the stuffiness I anticipated, complete with polished leather couches and tasteful pillow accents. But Dr. Isla herself stood before a dark oak reception desk, wearing a white embroidered tunic. She was a short and curvy, with gray wavy hair that brushed her shoulders. Her dark-toned skin was smooth, with a few creases along the corners of her large brown eyes, and her wide mouth was turned up in a smile, which I surprisingly found myself returning.
“Thank you, David. Judy will call you when the session is over.” We said goodbye and he left.
“Hello, Lily. The office is warm and has a nice, thick carpet. You won’t need your shoes and may leave them on the stand.” Isla motioned to a small wooden shelf and coat rack. I quickly removed my jacket and short boots, eyeing her white socks as I followed her into her office. The furnishings were similar to her receiving room but with more upscale eastern artifacts intermixed with framed honors on the wood-paneled walls.
She motioned for me to take a seat on a sofa with a short back and wide cushions. Crossing her legs, she sat down next to me.
“We will start with a breathing exercise. I want you to focus on your inhalation and exhalation,” she said.
I raised a brow. “Seriously?”
She smiled. “Yes. When thoughts arise, bring it back to the inhalation and exhalation. Now, let’s take two breaths together.”
She flicked her finger against a metal bowl and a sound hung in the air.
Since she didn’t leave the exercise open for discussion, I closed my eyes and tried to focus. What is this? Inhale. How is this supposed to help me? Exhale. Is this how it’s going to go? Inhale. How long is this going to last? Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. The bell sounded once again.
Tiger Lily: Part Three Page 6
