The sun was up and I could see this from the small crack in the drapes in the corner of the room. Dom was fast asleep beside me, his head just about buried under his arm where he lay on his front. I noted that he had kicked the covers aside and that the blanket pretty much covered me only.
He wasn’t kidding about the heat.
I felt like jelly under the weight of warm custard and I was deliciously sore on my bottom and on my sex. We were both of us sleeping at the foot of the bed with the bed board looming over us like a great mountain and I smiled to myself as the memory of the early morning rolled over me.
The orgasms just kept getting more and more intense.
I feared that I was becoming addicted.
I stretched – or at least I tried – but the ache had me wincing, which stirred him in his sleep.
And then I saw it, right there on the bed.
It must have slid out of his pocket while he was sleeping.
I reached for it, jumping when suddenly, he gripped my wrist.
“Uh-uh…” he said groggily. “This is mine…”
He snatched the garment away and tucked it deep into his pocket.
“I thought you were sleeping,” I said.
“I was,” he said. “Until you made that sound of yours…”
He lifted his head, alert now, as he looked me over.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked quietly.
“I’m a little sore…”
He looked so remorseful and embarrassed and I rushed to reassure him.
“It’s a – yummy kind of soreness.”
“Yeah…” I said, nodding my head. “Like – dark chocolate… Bittersweet.”
He looked at me long and hard, his expression sombre and I looked right back. It wasn’t any kind of pain that I wasn’t used to from all the steps and running up and down at work.
I scooted over to him and pressed a kiss to his shoulder and then lay back down again, hoping that he understood the message I was trying to convey.
“Okay…” he said finally. “Let me run you a warm bath. It will help with the ache.”
I smiled at him and he rose from the bed and headed for his en suite.
Boy, did I watch him go!
The jeans were slung low on his hips, his belt loose.
He had two dimples at the base of his spine, a testament to his physic, which was as godlike as ever. He had filled out since that day I’d found him in the library and I wondered if it was because all the stress and pressure of school had passed.
An image of his veiny arms popped into my head as I remembered his hand down my panties and I laughed to myself, rolling onto my stomach.
I could already feel the moisture building and I actually wondered if I could touch myself real quick before he got back.
I could almost feel the way his mouth had ravished me just hours earlier, remembering how he’d lifted me clear off the bed, making me feel like I was flying as he’d drawn orgasm after orgasm from my sensitive flesh.
There was something savage in the way that he just kept going even though he could see that I was pretty much being ripped apart by the rapture of my orgasms.
But I liked it…
I liked how he seemed to gain pleasure from my pleasure.
Oh, but how I craved to make love to him!
Or at the very least, pay him back in kind.
Did he not like it when it was done to him?
Was he not asking because blowjobs were not his thing? Was he being respectful?
Should I ask?
I sighed at the feel of his big hands on my bare bottom and I found that I really didn’t care that I had no underwear on.
“Damn, this fine, fine ass!” he said, his voice hoarse and sexy.
I kept my eyes closed and my head resting on my arms.
He pressed a kiss first to my right butt cheek and then my left and I let him.
I wondered again, how couples did this.
There was nothing stopping him from taking off his jeans and having me right here.
I knew my body wanted to be bound to his!
“Come…” he said.
I followed him off the bed and he led me to the bath tub.
It was filled with bubbles and the water smelt like wild flowers.
“I’ll take a shower in the guest bathroom and then I’ll see you downstairs for breakfast, okay?”
He left the room and I disrobed, sinking into the luxuriously hot water. The bubbles popped over my skin as I settled into the water, letting it take out the kinks in my stiff muscles.
For a moment, my mind was blank, like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
I felt like I was.
I had waited for so long to find him and now that I had, he was more than I’d imagined. The more I thought about him, the less I wanted to be apart from him. I couldn’t stop thinking about him when he wasn’t in the room and when he was, I wanted him to be near me. And when I was near him, I wanted him even more.
I wanted to open my soul and plant him inside it so that we became one…
I spent almost twenty minutes seated there, enjoying the sensations and the incoherent thoughts.
I was going to second year!
I had to tell my parents and Imo.
I realized that I’d pretty much dozed off in the tub and slowly rose to my feet.
I drained the tub and cleaned off in the shower before returning to the tub and cleaning it out. I did feel good, all the aches and pains gone. For a long moment, I stared at the reflection of my naked form in the mirror; saw the bulges of my body and the stretch marks on my skin.
I felt like a tank overflowing at the hips, my breasts sagging, as big as they were.
I felt my confidence slip and I covered myself with my arms.
Many other thoughts spiralled through my mind and I forced them away as I geared up, putting on the second pair of briefs in the pack – the red ones. And then I pulled on a pair of jeans from my bag.
I sat down on the bed and sent a single message to both my parents at once.
I then called Luke, who didn’t answer, then Kay.
She answered on the first ring.
I stared blankly ahead. “What?” I breathed on a laugh.
“You never call me!”
“Calm down,” I said. “Did you make it?”
“I did. And you did.”
“How did you know?”
“It’s obvious,” she said.
“So I take it you guys are good then.”
My smile died. “He’s more forgiving than I thought…”
But then my skin began to burn with the memory of how he’d shown me just how forgiven I was.
“That’s good,” she said flatly. “Tell him I said hi.”
“See you on Monday? We’re in 277.”
“Sure,” I said, startled by this. I hoped she didn’t hear it in my voice.
I stared at the phone for a moment, not sure how I felt about this new development.
I then called Imo.
She answered after five rings.
“Hey, mi hermana.”
“Hi,” I said. “Make yourself available for texting tonight. I’ve got a story for you.”
“Oooooh!” she said. “Cliff notes!”
“Going to second year,” I said. “Yay me! We’re together…”
I laughed as I hung up the phone and put it on silent before heading downstairs.
On entering the lounge I gasped.
He was crouched on the floor at the centre of the room, having pushed the coffee table aside. There was an afghan blanket on the floor and on it were the makings of a picnic, complete with an actual basket. There was a cooler box nearby and next to it was one tall bottle of wine.
He looked up at me and smiled like the sun. He had showered and changed clothes, wearing a pair of khaki shorts that cut just below the knee with a pale blue Polo shirt, his feet bare. There was music playing softly in the background and I could hear the sultry tones of Jamie Cullum, accompanied by his piano.
He stretched out his hand and I stepped forward on jellylike legs, awed by this romantic display.
He pulled me into his arms, embracing me, something which surprised me because the simple gesture felt almost foreign to me.
“Good morning, love…”
I looked up into his eyes, feeling tears burn the backs of mine. “Good morning…”
He sat me down and sat himself across from me, our breakfast between us.
It was cheese and grapes and sandwiches of bacon and avocado and crisp lettuce. We washed this down with wine and then followed it up with ice cream.
He then offered some coffee, which I took, and all the while, we talked about work and school and the things we’d seen on campus.
He was polishing off his second helping of ice cream and I just watched him, thinking how he looked like a happy little boy.
He cleared up the plates and returned the tubs of ice cream to the freezer and produced a giant chocolate bar which I was delighted by.
“Thank you for…” I began.
He looked up at me as he opened the foil packet and broke off a piece of chocolate for me, putting it right on my tongue.
“For?” he asked.
I raised my hands above my head.
“Everything!” I exclaimed as joy flooded me. He smiled at me again and I reared up on my knees and kissed him on his forehead.
He growled in his chest and pounced on me playfully.
He was tickling me!
I fell back and he all but covered me with his hands.
I couldn’t escape him, he was everywhere!
I writhed in his arms and he continued to tickle me.
“I’ll fart! I swear I’ll do it!”
“So what?” he asked, his voice sounding like honey. “It will smell like daisies.”
I burst out laughing on top of it all as he pulled me against his strong frame.
He did not let up until I was breathless.
“You’re perfect…” he said quietly. I think all the air left me at these words.
“Don’t say that!”
I covered my face, extremely shy.
He broke off another piece of chocolate and instead of putting it in my mouth, he put it in his. He swirled it around in his mouth and then leaned down and kissed me and we shared that one piece between us.
“Hmmm….” I hummed. “I think I want to eat chocolate like this forever…”
I licked his lower lip and he chuckled.
“So, not only would you be my chef, you’d be my chocolate dispenser.”
He smiled wolfishly. “Would I only be using my mouth?”
“You could use your fantastic hands as well.”
“You could use your toes but that would be odd,” I joked.
“Chocolate covered nuts, perhaps?”
I sucked in my breath in total shock and he burst out laughing as I smacked him repeatedly.
“You’re terrible!” I squealed.
He laughed at this, setting his head down on my chest.
I gazed up at the ceiling, looking at the vines as they wound across the ceiling.
“Did you get the penthouse with the vines like that?” I asked.
He nodded his head.
“I paid the original owner a big bucket to let me have it – or my dad did anyway.”
The music moved smoothly into the tunes of a jazz artist by the name of Keith Jarrett. With the volume down low and the wine in my head, I felt like I was floating.
It was all pianos and quiet whispers and guitars and drums. He was lying on his front, his head on my chest, his arms on the carpet on either side of my body.
We were eating chocolate and enjoying the lazy stillness of Saturday.
I liked it.
“What’s this song called?” I asked.
“That’s a perfect title.”
“How so?” he asked.
I idly traced circles over his back, hoping that God would let me do this forever.
“For the longest time, I thought I dreamt you up…” I said.
“What convinced you otherwise?” he asked.
“Doctor Johnson,” I said. “He told my dad the whole story of how I ended up in the Campus Clinic. He said there was this – young man who had stayed with me right up until I was transferred to The Gen. That’s all I had to keep your memory alive… And over time, some things came back to me… I never could forget your eyes though.”
He lifted his head and looked at me, for no reason at all, simply to show me his eyes.
I sighed, content.
“Wow…” I said with a wry smile. I cupped his cheek and he turned his face into my hand and planted a kiss on my palm. “I could stay like this forever,” I said.
“Why don’t you?” he asked.
“Well,” I said. “We’ve got jobs to return to on Monday and at some point, we’ll both need to pee and shower and eat –”
He was already laughing at this, the sound rich and languid. He looked back up at me again.
“For real,” he said, his smile dying. “Be my girl, Dilia…”
I reared up on my elbows. “I kind of already thought I was your girl.”
His smile was radiant and I couldn’t help but smile too.
* * *
Imo answered the phone immediately.
“Dominick Tyree,” I said.
He looked over at me from the dining room table, his eyes immediately narrowing, his senses no doubt sharpening as he tried to listen to what I was saying.
I leaned against the backrest of the sofa, looking directly at him.
“He’s staring directly at me with his hazel eyes,” I said loud enough for him to hear me. “He’s busy with work, crunching the numbers, so I should probably lower my voice.”
He rolled his eyes at me, shaking his head as he continued working.
“He’s right there?”
“What does he sound like?” Imo all but whispered.
I stared at Dom until he felt it and looked at me.
I pointed at him and gestured for him to come over.
He obliged, coming over and standing before me, his arms folded over his chest.
I put the phone on speaker.
“Imo, this is Dominick,” I said.
“Good day, Imogen.”
We both burst out laughing at that.
“Okay,” she said. “I know you’re busy, so I won’t waste your time. I just want you to promise me something.”
I looked up at him with wide eyes – what the fuck was she going to say?!
“I’m listening,” said Dom. He leaned forward, his face inches from mine.
“Be good to her, okay?”
I ducked my head, feeling increasingly self-conscious.
“There’s only one of her on this whole planet and I would die if anyone hurt her.”
I covered my eyes, my hand shaking with the effort not to drop the call.
Dom tilted my head so that I looked up at him.
“I promise I won’t hurt her,” he said. “Quote me on it Imogen.”
“Quoted,” she said. “As you were.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead, giving me a long and meaningful look.
He returned to his work and I watched him go, feeling more and more breathless as I played the words back in my mind.
I sat down, putting the phone off speaker.
“Oh my word, Dilia!” Imo screamed. “Wait – the business about the girlfriend?”
I got off the sofa and ran over to him and he looked at me with concern but I shook my head, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“I’mma take my noise to the library, is that okay?”
He seemed to relax and I giggled. “Come here.”
He kissed me long and tenderly and released me.
I sat in the corner of the library, staring down at the table.
“So, they split before we started dating,” I said. “I asked him if it was my fault and he said it was all about them.”
“And how long ago was that?”
“Months…” I said. “That’s all I have on them. I don’t even know if I want to know.”
I sighed heavily. “I mean – is a few months long enough to mourn a lost relationship?”
“Did he love her?”
I had never asked him that.
I stood up, shocked at this.
“I dunno… Wow… I didn’t ask…”
“And he’s in love with you –”
“That’s a huge –”
“Then he likes you a lot. A whole lot.”
I swallowed hard, thinking about all that had happened so far. What if this was all…
Could he really do all these things and not love me?
“Do you love him?”
I dropped into my seat again. “I’m scared…” I whispered. “He’s… He’s everything…”
“I know it’s only been a couple of weeks but I’m so into him. I think…”
“Go at a pace that suits you, D,” she said. “Even if he loves you.”
It sounded all wrong, but I knew where she was coming from. It didn’t seem fair for him to love me if I didn’t love him.
When I was all alone, I swore I did.
I felt it in my bones.
It all felt too intense to be anything but love.
But now that Imo had asked me, it seemed like it was a complicated question.
“I feel like I do… And if I don’t then whatever the fuck this is – Imogen, I can’t imagine how it could get any better.”
“Oh my gosh, Dilia! You’re in love!”
I laughed at this, feeling a sense of warmth come over me.
But there was something else.