Back to You

Who Could Ever Hate This Man?

When I woke up in the early morning hours to the warmth of Belly's body next to mine, it was surreal to think that we had made love just hours earlier. She was my childhood friend, childhood crush, childhood everything until the summer of her sixteenth birthday when everything changed for us. 

I still couldn't wrap my head around how perfect our first time together was, how completely and wholly she had trusted me with all she had been saving for me. I couldn't imagine feeling closer to someone than I felt to Belly at that moment as she'd surrendered her innocence to me, her body moving in such synchronicity with mine. I felt consumed by her love; her need for me was matched only by my need for her.

My heart had been beating so fast, as satiated, she'd laid her head down on my chest, and I ran my hand lovingly down her back. We were no longer just childhood friends. We were now lovers. I'd dreamt about this very moment growing up, but the reality was much better. I had everything I wanted in my life right now. And I knew I'd fight to keep it this way. To always feel this way with her. To always be so close.

I couldn't imagine anything better than this warm, gentle woman to love for the rest of my life. 

Cue the steamy shower sex. And I'm sorry if that sounds torrid. While last night had been beautiful and magical and touched my soul, today, in the shower, had been wanton and passionate, and primal. There were not a lot of unexplored territories now as we'd both thrown our inhibitions out the window.

Honestly, as I sat at the kitchen island pretending to read a book, I was still ruminating about the fact that she'd had the guts to join me with everything still so new between us. I had not expected her to be so bold.

The bottom line was that I was lucky. I knew that. Life could be cruel, and people didn't always get to be with the one they wanted. I was a testament to that. But I was happy now, which was a welcome relief because happiness had been in such short supply for me since I'd lost Belly to my brother Jeremiah.

The tables had turned painfully slow, but they had finally turned in my favor. 

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Conrad sat at the kitchen island sipping his coffee as I tried really hard not to stare at him.

After everything that had happened between us, you would think I would feel less enraptured by him, but it was the exact opposite for me now. Every breath he took sent a wave pulsing through me. My knees went weak when he casually pushed his hair back with his hand. And oh God, please don't get me started on the sexy looks and smiles. When he glanced up and wickedly smiled at me before returning to the book he was reading, I thought I would melt into a puddle. I was in perpetual heat for this man. 

For the next four days, I would understand that I was having the same effect on Conrad as we christened many places with our love and lust. If we'd been close before, this was 'get a room' close as we'd both struggled to keep our hands to ourselves. It became a contest to see who could hold out the longest. Maybe it was because I was new to this whole physical aspect, but I truly sucked at this game - he did not, and he delighted in torturing me. 

I still had my pout, though and it apparently held magical powers that did him in—his words, not mine. 

This particular day I was sitting at the edge of the couch with my feet pointed toward Conrad when he finally turned to acknowledge me.

"You can put the pout away. It's not going to work," he said as he turned and put his feet up now, only inches away from mine. I knew what the consequences of losing this round were. He got to touch me and kiss me, but I wasn't allowed to touch him till he said okay. You might think that doesn't sound so bad, and honestly, it's not; it's more of a pride thing to give him all the power. I liked winning as much as he did.