by Anne, Betsy
“Mel! Fix the phone so we can see her.”
She takes the phone, and holds it so Lou can see us. She blows us kisses, and says, “hi”, over and over. I want to hold her so badly.
Wick talks to her, and she loves it. She loves him. She crawls up on him whenever we’re around. He hasn’t been around kids very much, but he’s a natural. He’ll make an incredible dad someday. I’m daydreaming, seeing him play with little red-haired babies. Jesus, Becca, get control of your imagination.
Lou drops the phone, and I hear Mel yell about something.
“Gotta run, Bec. Y’all have fun!”
Wick laughs at Melanie’s accent. I can make mine practically non-existent when I try, as he can with his.
“Do you find the manner in which my sis-ta speaks, humorous, Mista Dunmo-a?”
I lay it on thick. His eyes widen and his breath quickens. He likes it when I do this, apparently.
“It’s funny when she talks; it’s sexy as hell when you do it. Say something else for me.”
“Ah could neva jus turn it off and on, Wick-em. A propa south’rn lady would neva hide her go-geous south’rn drawl,” I drawl, batting my eyelashes.
He smacks his face with both hands, and falls back on the couch.
“Look what that does to me, Ree-bay-ca,” I don’t know if he intended to say my name in his accent quite like that, or if it was an exciting accident, but it’s hot as hell. His erection is very evident, even through his thick pants.
“Well, sir! How rude. I do not participate in pleasures of the flesh! How dare you show that to a righteous woman!”
He cracks up laughing, and lays down on top of me.
“I’m only so happy to show you how a ‘proper’ Scotsman behaves around the woman he loves,” he boasts as he presses his substantial flesh against my thigh.
I can’t help but laugh, but I see a suddenly serious look on his face. He places his hands on my cheeks, and stares intently into my eyes.
“I love you, Becca. I’ve never said that to anyone outside my family before. I didn’t even think twice when I said it this morning for the first time. I’m in love with you.” He leans in for the softest of kisses. His lips brush mine lightly as he lingers, staring into my eyes.
Sincerity pours from his soul. I’ve never felt so cared for in my life. I’ve been on my own since I was young, and have taken great pride in being self-sufficient. Emotionally, I built a wall to protect myself from ever needing another person. That wall has crumbled. I need this man like the blood in my veins–not to help or rescue me, but to enrich my life, sharing a love with him.
“I love you, too, Wickham. I’ve said it before, but I’ve never felt anything like this so I don’t think I meant it back then. Thank you for opening up to me, I didn’t really expect all that from you.”
He appears worried.
“Did I share too much? I’m sorry if that was hard to hear. I could never sit and listen to you talk about how many men you had been with. Just the thought of someone else’s hands on your body makes me sick,” he spits out, looking volatile.
The mood changes quickly.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that. It’d be a pretty boring tale to tell. I’ve forgotten every other man I’ve ever been with up ’til now. You’ve given me a wonderful case of amnesia,”
That seems to work, and his face softens once again. I’ve only ever seen him as serene, but I just got a glimpse of what his temper must have been like. Wow. Thanks again, yoga.
“Wick, I’d like to go with you to see Eric sometime. I’d really like to get into yoga, I could use the flexibility to keep up with you. How often do you go?”
He looks pleased by the request.
“I’d love nothing more than to share it with you. It’ll change your life; I know it did mine. Eric and I practice whenever the studio is free and I’m off. We can go Monday evening if you’d like.”
“Will Pam be there?” I ask quietly. I don’t want to come off as jealous again.
“Maybe. I can tell her not to come if that makes you more comfortable.”
“I know you’re friends, but I can’t meet her just yet. I still feel uncomfortable about your relationship. Is that childish of me?”
“Of course not, Becca. I understand. I wouldn’t be very kind if I met someone you’d been with either. I’m glad you haven’t dated around here, and that we’re not in New York.”
He won’t need to meet Justin. I think Justin may still be a little sore that I left him hanging like I did, and I think he might say something to me. That would be bad. I change the subject.
“So, I believe you were going to show me how a Scotsman treats his lady?”
Works like a charm. His eyes light up and he’s back on top of me in a flash.
Chapter 20
Monday morning, I float into Melanie’s kitchen. We returned last night, and my feet haven’t touched the ground since.
“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in. You look… happy,” she says, smirking, as she cleans up the breakfast dishes.
“Oh, Mel, I am. He’s perfect. We had the best weekend ever,” It sounds so cheesy, but it’s the truth. I’ve never felt so happy.
Lou toddles over to me, and I pick her up and twirl her around.
“Are you kidding me? Who the hell are you, and where is my sister? Did you turn into Julie Andrews about to sing The Hills Are Alive?”
“Oh, shut the hell up,”
“OK, so you’re not Julie Andrews. Don’t keep me in suspense. Other than the obvious fact that y’all finally had sex, how was it?”
“He opened up to me, Mel, a lot. I don’t want to give up too much, because it was very personal, but he’s been through some shit. He told me he loved me, too. It was a really big step for both of us.”
Lou squeals for more as I put her down. Melanie turns on a colorful kiddie show on TV and Lou is instantly mesmerized. She plops down on a big pillow, and sucks her thumb.
“All right. I suck as a mom. I’ve got a TV-addicted, thumb-sucker, but it sure calms her down. Let’s go in here so we can talk.”
We head back to the kitchen, and she pours some coffee.
“OK, so he’s perfect. I think we already knew that going in, right? Gorgeous, kind, soft-spoken, what else is there?”
“He’s got a lot more to him below the surface, Mel. I really think I’ve found ‘the one’.”
“The one what?” Brian asks when he enters the kitchen, a squirmy Lou under his arm. “Good morning, Bec. What did you find?”
He walks over to Melanie and gives her a surprisingly sensuous kiss in front of company. I instinctively turn my head; this feels too intimate to share with them, and a little weird. Lou is arching her back trying to escape his grasp.
“I’m taking this one for a run in the stroller. Don’t worry, I’ll bundle her up. She needs some fresh air,” he says as he applies a raspberry to her tummy that elicits an ear-piercing squeal. “I’m glad that you think Wick is ‘the one,’ Bec. I really like him, too.”
Crap. He understood what I was talking about. I didn’t really want to share this news with everyone, but I guess there’s no harm in it. Good news should be shared, right?
“Thanks, Brian. I really do. He means a lot to me.”
I look at Melanie, and she’s beaming. I can tell she’s mentally preparing our wedding already.
“Stop, you. He and I have a long way to go before we get there.”
She smiles and clutches my hand.
“I’m so happy for you, Bec. I promise not to push, and when I do, just tell me to back off. I love to see people happy, you know that. I can’t help myself.”
* * *
The weeks since our trip are incredible. We’re back to taking it slow, but in a much different way. He’s patiently teaching me some of the techniques he’s learned to restrain his impulses. Combined with meditation and yoga, I feel more grounded and calm. Sex is no longer a rush to the finish line but a wi
nding path to explore and enjoy, sometimes never seeing the end at all.
I still haven’t been able to practice with him at the studio, though. Two guys on the force with him were injured on the job, and his work schedule has been erratic with everyone to cover pieces of their shifts. He gets frustrated when he can’t get into the studio, and it shows. He’s more impatient in the bedroom, which makes him nervous. Yoga keep him grounded, and focused on his discipline.
We’re at dinner, a rare night out instead of eating at my place or at work, and it’s lovely. He insisted we dress-up and go out. A bottle of champagne on ice is waiting at our table when we arrive.
“What’s all this?” I ask nervously, realizing that I could have missed the signs and that he may be proposing. My heart starts to flutter like a hummingbird.
“Well, you obviously don’t remember,” he says with a smile and a playful roll of the eyes. “Happy six-month anniversary.”
I’m embarrassed. We’ve been so calculated to move at a slow pace that I haven’t paid attention to any of those details. We haven’t discussed marriage or timetable, we’ve just been mindfully present in each day we’re together.
He pours us some bubbly, and holds my hand for a toast.
“To the most amazing six months of my life, and to the stunning woman who’s responsible. I love you, Rebecca.” He ends the toast with a soft kiss on my lips, and we clink glasses and drink. Our eyes stay locked on each other.
“I had no idea, Wick, thank you. In some ways, I feel like we’ve been together much longer than six-months, and sometimes, I feel as if we’ve just met. I learn something new every time I’m with you. I love you, too.”
He extends over the table to give me a longer, lingering kiss. I’d love nothing more than to flip the table over, just like in the movies, and ravish him right here and now. He has the exact same expression on his face, but he begins to breathe deeply. I join in. The sexual tension isn’t gone; it’s just placed on a low shelf for now.
Our conversation is free-flowing but familiar. I adore everything about this man. I get lost in his eyes as he speaks. He’s telling me a funny story about the man who got locked out of his apartment, naked, and the neighbors called the station to report him. His beautiful eyes twinkle as he laughs, and I feel like I’m falling into the abyss. I can feel his throaty laughter in my belly, and it sends a warmth throughout my body. I’ve never felt so, attached to anyone in my life. When you practice staring at one another while naked for minutes on end, it creates a pathway into the soul.
“…this guy’s arse was white as a ghost!” He giggles, but he’s interrupted by my cellphone. So few people call me this way that I’m startled and grab it quickly. I apologize to him for the interruption with my eyes.
It’s my agent, Barry.
“Hi, Barry, it’s been a while. Listen, I’m at dinner; can I call you tomorrow?”
“This will only take a second. You’ve been offered a job in St. Louis, for a hair products line. They love your hair, and want to feature a redhead in their campaign. You were their first choice. I need you on a plane with me on Wednesday to meet them. I need an answer, so I can get back to them.”
I’m so taken off guard, I say, “Um, OK,” and hang up the phone. I’ve been enjoying the hiatus I’ve had ever since doing the ads with Lou. They’ve been wildly popular, and different versions of our shoot have popped up all over town. It’s also provided a nice revenue stream for both of us.
Hair products seem like a no-brainer, so I might as well do it. I don’t even need to worry about what I’m eating tonight, it certainly won’t show up in my hair!
I look at Wick, and he looks concerned. “Is everything OK? You have a strange look on your face,” he asks.
“Yes, I’m fine. That was my agent, Barry. He has an offer for me, but I have to go to St. Louis day after tomorrow to close the deal. It’s for a hair-products company, I don’t even know which one.”
He brightens.
“Well, that’s another great reason to celebrate!” He refills our glasses, and I toss the burning bubbles down my throat. “I’ll miss you, but I’ll feel a lot less guilty about my work schedule this week, and by the weekend, it should be back to normal.”
He reaches over once more to give me a sweet kiss.
“I’m proud of you, baby. I don’t really like sharing you with the world, but if I have to, I guess your hair is safer than your body.”
We finish our romantic meal, and go back to my place.
“Can I stay tonight? I’m working late tomorrow, and I won’t get to see you before you leave for St. Louis.”
“You know you don’t have to ask, Wick. I think we’re way past that point, don’t you?” I say, pulling him by the shirt collar into my living room.
“Of course we are. I just like to ask, makes it feel special.”
I use some of the techniques I’ve learned from him to hold back and not rip his clothes off right now like I so badly want to. He looks adorable, and when he says such sweet things, I could ravage him right where he’s standing.
Instead, I calmly take his hand, while breathing deeply, and guide him to the bedroom. Tonight, I want to take the lead. He softens his stance and silently relents to my unspoken, yet obvious, request.
I turn on one lamp, only to see the candle that I light. The scent of sulphur is quickly replaced by the sensual musk scent of the wax. I turn the lamp off, and the room glows with a calming aura.
“I’d like to try something, Wick. I’ve been doing some homework on Lingam massage.” His eyes light up as I say this. “Are you interested?”
I’ve been studying up on Kundalini yoga, and how to release the chakras. Tantric massage is a useful technique to help your partner relax and enjoy pure sexual release of energy, whether there is an orgasm or not. I wanted to surprise him, and now is an opportune time.
“I’m impressed, love. I would love nothing more than to check your homework, you know, to make sure your studying properly.” He looks as eager as a child on Christmas morning.
He lies down on the bed, head raised to watch, and a pillow under his hips. It hits me like a brick to the head that this may not be the first time he’s experienced this. What an idiot I am, of course he’s done this, no doubt with Pam. As I reach for the oil in my nightstand, I pause.
“What it is, Becca?”
“I’m sorry, Wick. This is all new to me, and I was so excited to show you what I’ve learned. But Pam’s done this to you, hasn’t she?” I feel a little sick asking this, but I have to be honest.
He seems ashamed.
“Yes, Becca, I can’t lie. She and I didn’t have the relationship that you and I do. It was only for experimentation, nothing more. This means so much more. Please don’t think about all that, it’s the past. Let’s focus on the here and now, the two of us together. Can you do that?”
I am so protective of him and our relationship, that it’s impossible to put these thoughts out of my mind completely. I hate that she knows him like this, but I know it was different. I do my best to brush it off.
“I’m fine, it’s OK. I’ll try to do better,” I whisper as seductively as possible, trying to get past my bitterness for her.
I pick up the bottle of scented oil purchased online for just this occasion from the top of my nightstand. He sees it, and looks impressed again.
“You’re really prepared, aren’t you? You amaze me, my sweet Rebecca.”
He leans forward for a loving kiss, and all is forgotten. It’s just him and me, and I kick all unwelcome thoughts away.
I settle into the space between his open legs, and sit cross-legged between them. The oil is light and smells heavenly. I forgot a towel, so I lay his undershirt beneath him. I slowly pour a generous helping of oil over his cock and balls. He hums with satisfaction. Trying to remember all that I read, I begin under his testicles.
I locate the small indentation between his anus and balls, and I press gently. He pushes back against
my hand; it must feel pretty good. Using my other hand, I delicately begin to massage his sac, as I continue to apply pressure on the sweet spot. His cock rises to the occasion. The oil makes easy work of gliding my hands all around his testicles and pubic bone. I remove my other hand from the spot, and starting at the base of his shaft, I squeeze gently, and glide my hand up to the head. Using a twisting motion, I lower it back down. I stay in a constant rhythm, while continuing to massage his balls.
If he’s had this done to him before, you’d never know it. His reaction is exactly what I was hoping for. He looks delighted, impressed with my knowledge. I thought I would come across as a bumbling idiot since I’ve never tried this before, but I guess he approves of my self-taught method.
I continue this action for a while, until I feel his cock begin to twitch. I stop, allowing him to breathe through it. When I pick back up, I try something different. I return to pressing the sweet spot while stroking his shaft. That area is like the magic button, and his body involuntarily spasms as I apply pressure.
He approaches orgasm a few more times, but we take our time, knowing that it isn’t supposed to be the end result. If it happens, that’s OK, but the intention of the exercise is to be pleasure and control while trying to awaken the groin chakra. The pleasure can be turned back into the body or expressed through ejaculation, but either way it’s a wonderful way to connect with a partner.
I love watching his beautiful body react to my touch. His eyes are dark and glistening from pure pleasure. His body is like an all-you-can-eat buffet, and I can’t get enough.
He’s in an almost meditative state, having turned the sexual energy inward as he controls his orgasm. There’s one last thing I want to try. I apply more oil to my hands. With my right hand I stroke his cock, and with my left hand, I insert a finger on into his anus, about an inch. I crook my finger and locate the prostate. I massage it gently, and vary the speed and pressure. I return my right hand back to the sweet spot. From what I read, this is the main event. This combination is supposed to drive him wild, and I’m not disappointed.
