355 500 произведений, 25 200 авторов.

Электронная библиотека книг » Corinne Michaels » Beloved » Текст книги (страница 13)
Beloved
  • Текст добавлен: 11 октября 2016, 23:24

Текст книги "Beloved"


Автор книги: Corinne Michaels



сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Twenty

I’m spent.

Completely and totally useless.

I’m lying against his chest, still unable to catch my breath. He runs his fingers lightly against my back before shifting me to go clean up. I groan and stretch as my muscles loosen from the aftermath of our intense sex session. The tightness reminds me of the obstacle course and how much my body ached afterward. But this is the kind of physical workout I welcome.

Jackson returns and flops on his stomach, giving me a view of his perfect ass. He really is magnificent. I kind of want to pinch myself—surely this can’t be real. He turns his head toward me with a smile and I place my hand on his back. I’ve never gotten a good look at the art on his shoulder. It’s really remarkable, so intricate, and has so many different parts to it. In the center are the bones of a frog. Its body wraps around from the front of his shoulder and ends with the head facing down on his back. In the frog’s hands is the trident of Poseidon, only the three spears of the trident aren’t spears, they’re names. Brian, Fernando, and Devon are written in an elegant script and the number four serves as the handle. It’s surrounded by black tribal ink. My finger grazes the frog and the labyrinth of tribal markings around it. Below it is the most beautiful quote.

We have this hope as an anchor for our soul, firm and secure. – Hebrews 6:19

It’s profound and speaks to my heart. There’s meaning behind each word. Hope is something we all have, and it’s often the only thing we can grasp when our world is shattering. I hoped for my father to return. I hoped for Neil to be faithful. Neither of those things happened, but that hope is what kept me going every day.

Jackson rolls and faces me with sad eyes, so different from just moments ago. I reach up, placing my hand on his heart, and he pulls me in, close enough so I can see the front of the tattoo. “What does your tattoo mean?” I feel him tense.

“It’s the tattoo you get when you lose someone on the team,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Is that the loss you’ve mentioned?”

“Some,” he replies and laces his fingers with mine, holding our clasped hands between us.

I want to push him to tell me. I want him to share with me—more like I want him to want to tell me. I’m just not sure I should try to force it.

“Why a frog?” My curiosity gets the best of me. I don’t understand some of his world.

“SEALs are referred to as Frogmen.” He smiles and squeezes my hand gently. His eyes are warm and he continues on, “I got that tattoo to remember my three friends who died on a mission.”

My heart swells that he’s opening up, but aches for the pain of his loss. “I’m so sorry.”

He removes his hand from mine and wraps his arm around my middle. I scoot closer and return his hug, placing a small kiss on his chest. My mind begins to wander as the silence persists. Do I push again?

Jackson takes a deep breath and begins to speak. His voice is low, pain threading through his words. “It’s my fault.”

Pulling back, I look in his eyes. The agony there is evident. “What’s your fault?”

Jackson struggles to hide his emotions, but I watch each one play like a movie—sadness, anger, guilt, hatred—before his expression goes void. “Their deaths—I was in charge of the mission.”

“Jackson, I doubt that,” I say softly, hoping he’ll hear the disbelief in my voice.

He tugs me back against his chest. I’m not sure if he’s done talking or if he wants to hide from me. Giving him what he’s silently requesting, I wrap my arm around him and stay quiet.

Right as I’m starting to drift to sleep, feeling safe and content in his arms, I hear his deep voice. “When we were in Iraq, we got into some heavy firefight. I was in command of my team.” He pauses and runs his fingers up and down my spine methodically.

I look up and his eyes are closed tight as if he’s fighting an internal war. Every part of him is rigid and tense. I bring my hand to his face, brushing my thumb across his cheek. “Hey,” I whisper.

His eyes are vacant as he speaks. “There were six of us and we had bad intel. Something wasn’t sitting right, but I had my orders.” He takes a deep breath and his voice is distant. “So we deviated a little, hoping it would give us the element of surprise. I split the team in half. Mark, Aaron, and I took to the left.” He pauses again and I watch as pain lances through his features. Every single bone in my body is aching for him, but I stay still and quiet as I wait for him to go on.

“Brian, Fernando, and Devon took to the right of the village. I knew something was wrong. I had that sinking feeling but we didn’t have a choice. We had to fucking go and do our job. When we split up, it made it easier to pick us off. I heard the gunfire, but we couldn’t get to them quick enough. They were shot and killed. I was in charge—it’s on me.”

“Oh, Jackson.” I gasp and pull myself up.

I want to comfort him. I’m just not sure what to do. The pain in his voice, the torment in his eyes, it’s lashing through me. I want to take it from him, carry the burden so he’s not hurting, but he keeps going.

“By the time our extraction team got in, it was too late. They were already dead. Mark and I were both shot. Aaron was the only one who got out without getting injured. Mine was on my arm.” He points to a faint scar on his bicep. I lean over and kiss him. He smiles weakly at me, but there’s nothing but sadness in his eyes. “I carry their deaths on my shoulders.”

I can’t imagine how much the tattoo hurt, but the agony of reliving that memory while someone permanently etches it into your skin …

“I’m sure no one blames you. I mean Mark works with you and so does Aaron. Surely, they know what an amazing man you are.”

Anger flashes in his eyes at my statement, like it couldn’t be true. “They don’t need to. I blame me.” He bangs his fist on his chest. “It was my call. Their wives had to bury them, Catherine. They had to go to their funeral. They had to tell their kids that their dads would never come back again. Had we stuck together, we all would have lived.” He shuts his eyes on the memory and me.

“You don’t know that. You can’t know that if you stuck to the plan, or together, that all of you wouldn’t have been killed.” My voice is small but strong. I’m trying to give him the other side of things.

He doesn’t respond. I know it’s futile to try to argue. Ashton tried to tell me hundreds of times that my father probably had a reason to leave, and how Neil might not be the best guy for me. Sometimes it doesn’t matter because you can’t see past the image in your own heart.

We lie here together, unspeaking. Two broken ships trying to find a way through rough seas. I close my eyes and settle back on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart as he tenderly holds me. And though I feel for his loss, I’m grateful he was spared.

He kisses the top of my head, and I move back so he can see the truth in my eyes. I need him to really hear what I’m saying. “I think you’re a wonderful man. From what I’ve seen you’re kind, loyal, trusting, and wouldn’t purposely put anyone in danger. You’ve comforted me and I saw how worried you were over the situation at your company.”

I grab hold of his face, forcing him to look at me. He shouldn’t carry guilt over something that wasn’t his fault. “You, Jackson Cole, are a man worth following. Those men wouldn’t want you to carry their deaths on your shoulders.”

“Those men should be alive,” he says almost inaudibly. Then he tries to move his head out of my grasp, but I’m not having it. I’m not done.

“True, they shouldn’t have died. No one should have to die, but would you have taken the bullet for them?” I raise my brow, already knowing his answer.

Without hesitation, he responds forcefully, “In a heartbeat.”

“Well, don’t you think they would do the same for you? I know loss too, Jackson. I’m living it now.”

I know he’s upset and hurt, but he’s failing to see that he wouldn’t want them to suffer if the situation were reversed. If it were Ashton and, God forbid, something happened and I was gone, I wouldn’t want her to live with that kind of guilt. I would want her to pick up her life and live on.

“You’re not telling me anything I haven’t heard before. Bottom line—I was there. I lived it.” His eyes narrow in anger. “I watched it happen and I couldn’t stop it. I fucked up and no one is going to tell me different. Their blood is on my hands. Did you kill your dad? No. So don’t compare.” His voice is cold, fused with frustration and defeat.

“You didn’t kill them either,” I whisper and drop my hands. A tear forms and I try to choke it down and hide my face from him.

I’m hurting for this entire situation and for my own guilt. No, I’m not responsible for my father’s death, but I never tried to find him either. I wrote him off. Some may think I was justified. Whether I was or not, I’ll never get that chance now. And now I’ve brought all of Jackson’s pain to the forefront. Regret is a shitty thing to live with and it seems both of us have an entire truckload of it.

“I’m sorry.” I feel him shift and his strong arms encase me.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“You’re crying.” He releases his hold and turns my head to look at him.

What else is new? I’m emotional. With all the stress of the last few months and my lack of sleep, I’m a little frayed. The impending reading of my father’s will is wearing on me too. I want to get past all of this so I can get back to who I once was.

Swiping the tear from my face, I smile and retort, “No, I’m not.”

“I didn’t mean to be an asshole and ruin our night.”

“You didn’t, Jackson. I’m sorry I pushed.” I smile and place my hand against his cheek. “But I’m going to keep telling you how incredible you are, okay?”

His smile is soft, placating. It’s clear he doesn’t believe me. I wish he could see what I see. I shrug and give him a quick kiss. I’m not giving up on him.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

I put my finger up and hop out of the bed. “One minute. I just need to brush my teeth and all that good stuff.”

Seeing Jackson’s shirt on the floor, I grab it and throw it on, then enter the bathroom. I try to fix my now disheveled hair and quickly brush my teeth. I take a few extra minutes to get my head under control. He’s seen and been through so much. Are we both too fucked-up to work? No, if I think like that, I’m doing exactly what I always do. He’s not fucked-up, nor am I. We just have some healing to do.

Climbing back into bed, Jackson pulls me against his solid chest. “You look good in my shirt.”

I chuckle and smile at him. “You look good in your shirt too.”

His voice is low and oozes sexual promise. “You look even better out of my shirt.”

I laugh and shake my head. He effortlessly lifts me so we’re eye to eye and leans in to kiss me. It’s a slow, easy, and careful kind of kiss. It’s the kind of moment your heart will never recover from because you’re both saying so much. My head is spinning. I try to hold myself back. Between all the details tonight—the dinner, the earth-shattering sex, and then him finally opening up to me—Jackson has obliterated my walls.

He finally releases me, settling me into the crook of his arm. “Good night, baby.”

I smile even though he can’t see me. “Good night, Muffin.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Our night together put us over some imaginary threshold. We’ve talked almost every day and we saw each other for lunch a few days ago. It’s been two weeks of laughter and falling into a nice rhythm together.

I grab the subway and head to his apartment, where he has another day of surprises in store for me. He’s standing outside waiting, and the sight of him causes my pulse to spike. His dark brown hair is in sexy disarray and his white T-shirt is tight, which lets me see his defined muscles perfectly. Butterflies stir in my stomach. It astounds me that we’re dating—he’s magnificent, commanding, sweet, and so many other things. I can’t keep my eyes off him when he’s around. The chemistry between us crackles like flames on a log. My body comes to life when he touches me—it’s a heady feeling.

As I approach he gives me a lopsided grin. “Hello, gorgeous.”

“Hello yourself.” I smile and he immediately reaches out, pulling me flush against him. “Do you always have to manhandle me?”

“Well, baby, I’m all man and I sure as hell love to handle you.” His eyes glimmer with humor.

Hell yeah he’s all man—every single fantastic inch of him.

“You’re ridiculous.” I shake my head.

“Yet you keep coming back, so I must not be that bad.” He smirks and gives me a long, panty-melting kiss.

Right here on 5th Avenue in New York City, he has once again rendered me helpless. Shoppers, families, cabs, and bikers all fade away as his lips move with mine. Jackson pulls back and wraps his arm around my shoulders.

I love how physical he is, almost as if he can’t keep his hands off me. It’s such a contrast to anything I’m used to. Whether it’s holding hands or something as simple as touching legs when we watch television, those small moments say so much. They’re unspoken words that show the true depth of what we’re both feeling.

“So what’s on our agenda today?” I ask with a light heart.

There’s happiness dancing in his eyes when he responds, “The park.”

My face falls at his answer. Jackson told me to make sure I was comfortable today. No heels, no dresses. He said to be sure I wore sneakers. I made him promise no military training exercises, no entering me for some kind of race or marathon, and no other strenuous physical activity that would have me aching for days after completion. After my ribbing about his love of running and exercise in general, I was a little hesitant, but he swore I would love today. I trusted him—first mistake.

“Why do I think I should’ve stayed home in bed?” I groan.

He laughs and pulls me tighter. “I wasn’t in bed with you, so that’s reason enough to get up,” Jackson jokes in my ear as we walk. “One day I’ll get you to agree to a mud run or something, but you’ll be happy to know I kept my end of the bargain today. They don’t have an obstacle course in Central Park—yet. And there’s no marathon.”

“Yet somehow that doesn’t comfort me.” I smile and nudge him.

We keep walking until we stop in front of the Central Park Zoo. My smile is so wide I can’t contain it. I leap into his arms, wrapping my legs around his torso and pressing my lips to his. His eyes are bright and full of happiness.

“Jackson!” I squeal, hugging him tight.

“Happy?” he asks with an irresistibly devilish grin.

I’ve thought it before and I’m thinking it now—Jackson can read my mind. Or we’re just that in sync. The zoo. This is one of the few places that holds any kind of happy memories for me and my dad. I love that he brought me here.

I let him see it all in my eyes, allowing him to see how very much this means to me. My whole heart is open to him as we stand wrapped around each other. After a few seconds or minutes—I don’t know which—I give him another kiss and untangle myself.

“Come on, babe. Let’s go inside.” His husky voice wraps around my heart, warming me from the inside out.

Our fingers lace together as we enter through the brick archway. I pull him around the zoo, looking at all the animals and laughing with him throughout our miniature safari in the city. We walk and catch each other up on the days we were both swamped and couldn’t talk. Jackson informs me about his upcoming trip to Virginia in the next few weeks. I tell him about Ashton’s newest fling. When we approach my favorite animals, I’m practically bouncing up and down.

“I love the camels!” I shout, pulling him to the fence. “They’re the most underrated animals.”

Jackson’s laughter peals through my cooing at the camel in the back. “You’re kidding. This is your favorite animal?”

“Whatever! I think they’re cute. They have the humps and they’re strong.” I stare through as the one I’m wooing comes closer.

“I like to hump and I’m strong. I’m sensing a pattern.” His brow lifts.

My brain blanks out as I envision Jackson doing a variety of things in the bedroom. I need to move off this topic quickly before my thoughts go further in the wrong direction.

“Anyway. They’re my favorite.” I smile.

“I seriously can’t believe this is what you wanted to see. I mean, how ’bout a lion? Monkey? Something cool,” he says with humor and a trace of incredulity.

I shake my head at his indifference toward this beautiful creature.

“They’re cool. They even have a song about them.” I raise my brows.

“What song?” he asks, laughing and clearly confused.

“You know, ‘Sally the Camel has Five Humps,’” I say in a singsong way. Back in college I babysat a child whose favorite show played that counting song all the time. It was annoying and repetitious and would inevitably get stuck in your head and drive you crazy. If he thinks I’m going to sing it to him, he’s lost his damn mind.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, but by all means feel free to sing it.” Jackson’s smile lights up his face.

“No, I don’t think that would be enjoyable for either of us.” I laugh, returning my gaze to the animals. “If I lived on a farm, I’d own one.”

“They’re gross and they smell. Plus, I’ve ridden them plenty during deployments. I promise there is nothing special about a camel. Now, you want to talk about a tiger, I’m all for it.” He grins, enjoying his teasing.

The camel walks over to the fence and a young boy lifts his hand up, feeding it from his palm. I giggle, but Jackson looks like he’s disgusted.

“See. You couldn’t feed a lion from your hand.” I tilt my head, toying with him. The machine to get food for the camel is a few feet away. I dig through my purse for the quarter I need as Jackson scoffs.

“No, but—” Before he can finish his sentence, the camel spits and it lands not even an inch in front of him.

I bust out laughing. Tears stream from my eyes as he stands there looking like he wants to climb the fence and teach it a lesson, which only makes me laugh harder. Jackson stares at me before his own grin and chuckle break free. “Oh my … She showed you!” I barely get out.

“So not funny.” He rushes toward me and grips my hand, pulling me away from the animal, which clearly does not like him. “Fucking thing almost got me.”

“If only my beautiful Jessica had better aim.” I giggle and wrap my arms around his torso, trying to control myself.

“You named the camel that tried to spit on me?” Jackson asks, sounding wounded.

“Jessica the camel. She only spit because you were being an ass and talking shit about her.” I wink.

“Glad to see where your loyalties lie.”

“Jessica and I have a strong bond. Sorry, babe, Jessica and I are like this.” I say and hold my crossed fingers up.

We stop in front of the next animal and he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me against him. I gaze at him, breathing in this moment in time. I love the way he makes me laugh, smile, and enjoy a normal day. Jackson brings out parts of me that I’d buried after Neil. But I don’t have to pretend with him. I can just be. Knowing that he doesn’t want to change me, that he wants to be with me as I am—it’s liberating. I snake my arms up his taut back as my mind drifts to all the ways Jackson’s infiltrated my heart and soul. I think of him as soon as I wake up and before I go to bed. He’s in my dreams too. He’s wrapped up with every aspect of my work life, but even when I’m not looking at the launch, someone will say something that brings me back to him.

Jackson’s eyes bore into mine. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this chance with you.” His fingers tenderly brush a loose strand of hair back behind my ear. “You’re beautiful, smart, funny … I can’t get enough of you. What’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours?”

I’m taken aback by his intensity and what he’s saying. He thinks he’s undeserving? It’s me who doesn’t know how I somehow have him.

I place my hand on his cheek. “I think you have it mixed-up. It’s me who’s lucky. I keep waiting to wake up and realize you’re a dream.” I rub my thumb against his stubble. He’s real. We’re real. No pretending, no dreams—only us.

“Believe it, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he says softly before his lips meet mine.

We continue our day walking through the zoo. He refuses to let me say good-bye to the camels, no matter how hard I try. We walk through the park hand in hand, stopping to grab a dirty water dog and pretzel from the hot dog truck. It’s your typical day in New York City. No fanfare or crazy planning. It’s perfect. Every single solitary second is all I could ever want.

“How about we head back to my place and watch a movie?” Jackson asks.

“Sure. Only if I can pick it.” I smile, happy that he wants to spend the rest of the day together.

I note that he didn’t answer, but he’s crazy if he thinks I’m going to let him win—again. We head to his apartment and memories of the last time I was here flood back. The way he seduced me, touched me, brought me to the brink, and then opened up about the mission. How in the morning there was no awkwardness. We had breakfast and I headed back to my apartment, floating on cloud nine.

“Pick something good,” Jackson warns as we head into the living room.

“You didn’t give any contingencies, so you get no say.” I smirk and head over to the wall of DVDs. I could be a total pain in the ass and pick something I know he’d hate, but then again his selection doesn’t exactly give me many options. Scanning the endless rows, I find one and gasp.

“Oh my God! You have Empire Records?” I grab the DVD and rush over to put it in the player.

“You know this movie is cinema gold,” Jackson says as he brings over popcorn and settles into the couch.

“This is the best movie ever!” I exclaim and snuggle into his side. “Okay. Before we start watching, if you could be anyone, who would you pick? I’d be Lucas. He’s hysterical.” I smile and grab the bowl, putting it on my lap.

“I guess Joe. He’s the boss.”

I laugh at his choice. Of course he’d pick the one who’s in charge. Joe is pretty badass, though.

“I think you’d be a great Rex. Oh Rexy, you’re so sexy.” I smirk and push play as he scoffs.

We spend the next hour laughing and reciting lines. Just as Rex Manning and Gina are getting it on in the copy room, Jackson runs his fingers up and down my arm. Suddenly I’m not so interested in the movie anymore. I shift, trying to stifle the lust bubbling up, but he moves his hand to the back of my neck and starts making small circles on my skin with his fingertips. My breathing becomes heavier as the pad of his finger rubs the spot right below my ear. Every caress increases my yearning. Heat pools as he makes his way back down my neck, lingering there.

I move my hand higher up his leg and hear him swallow loudly. The urge to touch him, to feel him, to make him come apart in my hands grows with each beat of my heart. Slowly I turn to look at him. His eyes drink me in before his mouth crushes against my lips with savage intensity. He shifts us and swings me on top of him. Feeling his erection against my core causes my arousal to rage like a storm.

His lips lower and his tongue traces my neck and shoulders. “Jackson, I want you,” I say in a breathy whisper.

“Understatement of the year.” He pulls the strap of my tank top and bra down, exposing my breast to his hungry mouth. Jackson pushes me back as his tongue circles my nipple.

My lids close as I absorb the sensations of his warm breath and mouth on me. His hand glides up my back and tangles in my hair as he tugs, exposing my neck and arching me forward to give him easier access. I try to sit up but he grips my hair and pulls harder, bringing my chest closer to him. He sucks and nips as I writhe in his lap. His other hand digs into my ass, gripping, kneading, and pushing me into his cock.

Using his teeth, he pulls the other strap down and pays the same attention to my other breast. The scruff on his cheek grazes my already sensitive skin, sending tingles from my head to my toes.

I push forward and pull his shirt off before fusing my mouth to his. Our tongues tangle as the kiss becomes aggressive and desperate. God, I want him so bad. I’m dripping with need, aching for him to fill me. I rake my nails down his arms, extracting a low rumble from his chest.

Breaking the kiss, my tongue grazes his ear before I say huskily, “I want to fuck you.”

He groans before pushing me up and tearing my pants off. I hastily pull his off as he reaches over and puts a condom on. I’m straddling him when he says, “Then fuck me, Catherine.”

I slide down on him as he fills me to the brink. So fucking full. He’s so deep his cock is hitting every nerve inside me. Jackson’s eyes close and his head falls back against the couch. My hands grip his shoulders as I start to move.

“Your pussy feels so good.” His voice fills the room and he groans louder.

Every breath, every moan goes straight to my core.

Gripping my hips, he sets the pace. Raw passion spreads through me at the sweet friction of his bare skin against mine. Watching him lost in my touch, in my body, as I rock back and forth is incredible. Our eyes connect, awakening something deep within me. His fingers dig in so tight it’s almost painful, but we don’t drop our eyes. The unrestrained emotion behind his gaze mirrors mine. With each thrust, each caress, each kiss, we’re both giving each other everything, all the good and bad. I don’t know where he ends and I begin. I ride him hard and fast, embracing this intimacy, climbing my way toward ecstasy.

Jackson slips his hand between us, applying pressure to my clit. I lean against his chest, absorbing the heat from his body. “Let go,” he groans against my neck. “I want to feel you grip me. Ride me harder.”

“Don’t stop,” I pant as he continues to draw pleasure from me.

He rubs in small circles, keeping pace from below, pushing me harder and faster so every nerve surges with liquid heat. I lose control at the intense pleasure and sink my teeth into his shoulder, biting down as my orgasm tears through me.

“Holy shit!” Jackson calls out as he pounds into me, taking control of my movement.

I lean back with a seductive gleam in my eyes, but it’s nothing compared to the fire burning in his. My heart clenches. He’s either angry or extremely turned-on. Jackson lifts me off him and places me on the floor, gripping me from behind as he lifts my ass in the air. Definitely turned-on.

“You fucking amaze me,” he says, low and raspy as his hand glides up my back. Then he grabs my shoulder, entering me roughly. “This. Us. You. Your body—was made for me. You’re mine.”

“Oh my God, yes.” I moan as the feeling of him deeper than he’s ever been overtakes me. He tangles a hand in my hair as he plows into me, hard. My breasts hang heavily and the sound of our bodies connecting over and over fills the room.

“You look so fucking sexy.” Jackson’s voice is strained as he slams into me. His fingers wrap around my hip, gripping me so tight. He shifts his position, hitting the sweet spot inside me. The sound of him slapping his body against mine only drives me higher. “I want to fuck you all day and all night, so all you see is me. When you walk, I want you to remember where I’ve been and how good it feels when I’m inside you.”

His words go directly to my core, reviving my previous orgasm. My mind is a sponge soaking up every syllable. Jackson reaches his hand around, finds my sensitive clit, and rubs it, bringing my orgasm closer.

“I’ll never get enough of you. Mine goddamnit. All fucking mine.”

That word: enough. Only this time he’s telling me I am enough. Telling me he wants more.

I shatter, crying out his name as he continues to hit every sensitive spot in my body. My bones are melting from the sheer force of it.

He pumps a few more times before following. “Catherine … My Catherine.”

We both crumple to the floor, exhausted and sated. I look up at him as he rubs his shoulder where I bit him. Oh my God, I bit him. I actually sunk my teeth into him because I was so far gone.

“Sorry about that.” I smile as my cheeks flame with embarrassment.

He smiles back at me. “You can bite me.” Jackson’s lips find purchase on mine. “Any fucking time.” He lies on his back and shifts me closer.

He’s everything I could have wanted but never knew to ask for. We enjoy and entertain each other. The one thing my grandma always said was to find someone who makes you laugh. We can be serious or playful, and either way it works. As scared as I am, right now I feel content, happy. I close my eyes and listen to the rhythm of his heart.

He kisses my head. “I’ve got you, baby.” The sound of his voice lulls me and I drift off, hoping we can handle whatever comes our way, because the thought of losing moments and days like this scares me.


    Ваша оценка произведения:

Популярные книги за неделю

  • wait_for_cache