He has done that countless times over the years we've known each other.
I hadn't come up with lyrics yet, but as I gaze into Jake's eyes and he gazes back into mine, I feel words coming into my head and into my heart. I start to sing.
Our gazes chance to meet
And my spirit catches fire
I can't control the tumult in me
As it spirals ever higher
I am drawn to you.
For the moment, I can't sing another word. Tears well in Jake's eyes and one spills over. He sits absolutely, perfectly still, watching me as though I am the most incredible miracle he's ever seen, and at the sight, my heart is so full that my eyes, too, well with tears, and if I sing words, I know I'll start to sob. So I go back to humming again, and I hum the melody of what I expect will be the chorus to the song. After I hum it through a couple of times, I'm able to actually sing the chorus.
Enfold me in your love
As I wrap you up in mine
Let us grow together as now as for all time.
The chorus feels to me like it needs to be repeated with the same words again. So that's what I do. Jake's tears are flowing. He wipes his eyes but otherwise makes no move and no sound, except his gaze speaks volumes to me: love, gratitude, and immense joy. And I have to stop singing again because my chest has tightened with emotion, and before I know it, I'm sobbing. Really sobbing. Elephant tears.
Jake takes his guitar from me, lays it aside, and pulls me into his arms. “It's okay, babe,” he says softly, his deep voice very near my ear. I'm so happy, but I'm also overcome by emotion. I feel as though a wound deep inside me is somehow being salved.
Perhaps I'm crying from relief because the pain that came before has been so bad, so severe, even though I'd learned to live with it and even accept it as a given. But now, I realize it's not a given, and it doesn't have to be anymore. I see, so clearly, that the self-hate and misery I've inflicted on myself for such a long time is the source of the deep wound. Not Mom. Yeah, she has made mistakes in raising me because she doesn't understand me very well. She's said and done many painful things. But for all these years, I've taken her mistakes and her unintentional cruelty and fashioned these things into knives which I've then used to stab myself again and again and again, goring my self-confidence and my sense of self-worth.
I can do better.
Like being true to myself. True to my music.
And true to my love for Jake.
Life doesn't need to be a narrow, constraining path. I can love Jake, be in a relationship with Jake, hopefully spend forever with Jake, while still enjoying Granville as a friend, playing in his band, learning the ropes of life as a gigging musician. I can broaden myself to that extent, and the expansiveness will only encourage me to grow more, both in confidence and as a person. The shyness will be there, yes, but it no longer needs to be a prison, a wall, or an obstacle.
Only a challenge. And what would life be, if not for the challenges? Challenges are how we learn what we're made of; they're the forge in which our character is honed and developed. It's in how we meet our challenges that we learn to become the very best we can be.
Jake is murmuring to me, Oh, baby, Wildflower, please don't cry, things like that. It's okay, though. My crying isn't a bad thing. It's a result of deep feeling, personal revelation, and last, but never least, powerful love. But in order to tell him my crying isn't a bad thing, I'll have to stop crying. And right now, I just can't. He holds me, kisses my forehead, rubs my back, takes his time. Oh, how I love that we're able to take our time tonight. This will be our night, all night, just for us.
Finally, I stop crying, just a few soft hiccups, and Jake draws back from me a bit and looks at me with tender inquisitiveness.
“I'm fine,” I tell him. “I'm better than fine. This has truly been the best time of my life, singing for you and seeing how very much it means to you. I'm so sorry that you felt bad because I hadn't sung for you–”
He covers my mouth with his kiss, interrupting my flow of words. Oh, delicious kiss, and as much as I want to make love with Jake, this kiss is so sumptuous, it could last all night and I'd be happy. Then he pulls back. “Please, babe, don't apologize. It's okay. I really think I understand.”
Indeed, understanding is written all across his face. I truly think he does understand, that perhaps he's learning to transcend the horrible messages he's received throughout his life, especially from his dad—then my mom—about not being good enough. Perhaps, deep inside, I was even afraid of the intensity of feeling I'm experiencing now. Perhaps I knew how strongly it would affect me when I finally sung for Jake. And given that we have been broken up, as boyfriend and girlfriend, for a year, I didn't want that moment to happen unless we were back together. All the way.
Yes, it makes sense. To both my heart and my head.
He pulls me into his lap and kisses me as though he and I are the only two people in the world and our kiss is the only thing in the universe that exists. We're completely lost in it. I have no idea how long we kiss, except that after a time, Jake stands up and offers me his hand. His gaze smokes—pure fire. I accept his hand and he gently helps me up. As though we're of one volition, we walk together to his bedroom, and once we get there, we fall on his bed in a tangle, kissing and mutually pushing our clothes away and off, getting rid of them as quickly as possible.
We've been naked together before, but now it feels especially sweet, as we know that by making love, we'll be renewing our commitment. We're a couple again, despite everything we've been though, despite family disapproval. Even though Jake and I are both independent spirits, we've had to learn how to think of ourselves apart from the opinions of those who misunderstand us and who keep us feeling bad about ourselves, even if they don't overtly intend to do so. It's up to us to choose how we feel about ourselves, what we do with our lives, and how we act on our feelings for each other.
Jake's mouth on my breasts feels incredible as he caresses them with his tongue and pulls at my nipples, sucking on them and making them rigid, as rigid as he feels against my thigh. God, is he ready. And I'm ready, too. But he's in no hurry, and neither am I. At this point, I'm too carried away by desire to feel nervous. Yes, he's big, but that's what I want—I want every inch of him in me, making him mine, all the way, and in so doing, I'll make him mine, as well. We've always belonged to each other. And now we will even more deeply than before.
Deep, that's where I want him as I spread my legs as wide as I can get them, and he lies on top of me, pressing himself against my hot, fevered entrance. I reach down and caress his length. As amazed as I am that I'll soon be taking all of that into myself, I know I can take every single bit.
“Yes,” I moan. “Please.”
He remains at my entrance and sweat breaks out on his forehead with the restraint he's showing. “I'll go slow,” he says, his deep voice husky and ragged. “I don't want to hurt you.”
He begins to press into me, and I gasp at the incredible sensation. He slides in effortlessly, though slowly, and then he stops again. There's no pain, only a pleasure that makes my mind whirl, and I want him to go deeper. “More,” I say. “More.”
“You sure you're okay? You're so tiny in there, babe.”
“God, yes. I'm good. Please,” I beg.
He pushes in a little more, still slowly, and this time, there's pain. I buck just a little bit out of reflex, then press up against him before he can ask me, again, if I'm okay. I'm more than okay. The pain isn't bad, and what little pain I have is soon replaced by desire.
“Oh, Jake,” I say. “More.” I grind myself up against him, and his restraint breaks. He pushes all the way into me. There's more pain, yes, but it can't come close to the ecstasy. I let loose a little scream and dig my fingernails into his back. God. This is incredible. Rapturous.
“Wildflower,” Jake bites out roughly. “I want to move.”
Instead of letting him move, I clutch his butt and pull him to me, loving the fee
l of him inside. I want him to move, too, but I also want to play with him and drive him crazy. And part of me wants him to stay deep inside me forever, just like this, where there's no doubt, no insecurity about whether or not we're together. But after tonight, those days will be in the past. No more doubt about our love. No more doubt about whether we're together. Right now, we're as together as it gets, and that's how I hope things will stay.
He lets out a long groan and grinds down against me. I gasp. The pleasure nearly takes the top of my head off. I push back up against him and our lips meet in a searing kiss. I can't stand it any longer. I need to feel him thrusting inside me, and I need to move, too. I let go of his butt and wiggle up against him again. He moans and sets himself loose.
At first, he continues to use a degree of restraint, but as we move together in a rhythm that's ours and ours alone, we ramp up the intensity until he's pounding me, hard and fast. It's like my mind has simply come apart. Rational thought is no longer possible, just desire, lust, and a sense of climbing, climbing, and as I approach my release, I let out a scream, then bite his shoulder to keep from screaming too loud. Jake achieves his own release deep inside me. Moaning, we clutch each other close as he continues to thrust into me while our rhythm gradually slows again. Yes, I'm plenty sore in there, but it's a delicious soreness. I hope we make love all night until we're both too sore to walk tomorrow morning.
He eases off me, then cuddles me close with my head resting on his shoulder. We hold each other without words, savoring the joy of lying naked together, bathing in our mutual afterglow. But after just a little while, he turns toward me and captures my lips in a luscious, deep kiss. I feel ready to go again. I can never get enough of Jake.
He moves up alongside me, and he's already huge and hard. Without preamble, he rocks into me, hard and deep. This time, though, I make him roll over, and I sit on top of him, bouncing up and down, slicking up the length of his shaft. His hands cup my breasts as they bounce along with the rest of me, and with the frenetic pace I set, it isn't long before we're shuddering and groaning together again, reaching peak intensity, delight, and pleasure.
When we're lying together, spent, he says, “Wildflower, you've blown my mind.”
“I don't think I have a mind left,” I say.
We kiss again, a deep kiss which neither of us wants to stop, so we just lie there together, kissing and kissing, and again, I feel a stir inside me. Before we go again, though, there's something I want to tell him. “Jake.”
“Wildflower.”
“I love you. I've never stopped loving you. I never will.”
He kisses me yet again, then kisses my forehead and my cheeks and even my eyelids. “Precious Wildflower, there's nothing I want more than to love you forever and ever.”
Tears spill down my cheeks, tears of joy. “Jake, I feel the same way.”
He pauses a moment, and a small shadow crosses his face. Fear stabs at my heart. “Is something wrong?”
“No...” He pauses a moment while the shadow passes. In its wake is tenderness with a bit of melancholy. “Wildflower, are you sure I'm good enough for you? Am I what you really need?”
It's my turn to kiss his forehead, his cheeks, his eyelids, and I also kiss his nose. “You're more than good enough for me. You're the love of my life. I know I will feel that way even when I'm ninety-nine. And we're good together. Please don't think you're not good enough for me. That isn't your real voice, your real feelings. Deep down, in your heart, I think you know better. I think you've always known better. You know how I know that?”
He shakes his head, but in his eyes I see tentative joy, waiting to burst through all thoughts of clouds.
“Because we're together right now,” I say. “If you hadn't believed in us, in the rightness of our love, we simply wouldn't be here together and we wouldn't have consummated our love. But now that we have, guess what?”
“What?” He kisses my nose and I feel his hardness stir against my leg. Oh, rapture! And I'm having deep, wet tingles between my legs. We'll be at this all night. And most of tomorrow morning, I hope.
“There's no turning back,” I say.
“No turning back,” he echoes as though for emphasis, and I love how it sounds in his deep, steely voice.
He rolls on top of me and I know we'll make sweet love the rest of the night. My body fills, yet again, with Jake and with the incomparable pleasure and excitement he brings to me. My heart also fills to overflowing. Despite what other people have said to us and what they've tried to make us believe about ourselves and each other, our love is what matters most. Our love is ours to choose.
Forever, if we wish. It's up to us.
What's right is right, and nobody can tell us any differently.
Yes, I'm shy. But I am also brave. Courageous and determined. Best of all, I'm me, and I am loved.
###
About Thomma Lyn Grindstaff
Thomma Lyn Grindstaff gets some of her best ideas when hiking in the mountains. She’s both a novelist and a musician: a classically trained pianist, singer-songwriter, guitarist, and composer. Other passions include Zen practice and studying philosophy, science, and spirituality. Last but never least, she’s a cat wrangler. She shares her home with four Ballicai (also known as cats). If you could sum Thomma Lyn up in three words, they would be Artist, Seeker, and Adventurer.
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More by Thomma Lyn
If you enjoyed Shy, check out Crossroads, a novel by Thomma Lyn about Monie Bloomfield, who's soon to graduate college and go to law school, but she's no longer sure that's the life she wants. When she has a chance to join an up-and-coming rock and roll band as lead guitarist, it means leaving Rob, the love of her life, behind. Monie must weigh the security of her old path against the excitement of her new one and make difficult, heart-wrenching choices that will change her life forever.
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