Cherry Girl
Page 7
“I can promise that you don’t stink to high heaven, and are the prettiest wino I’ve ever had the pleasure of smelling in my bed.” He sniffed in my direction. “Eau du Cabernet?”
“No bloody fair,” I said pitifully.
“Sorry, that was awful.” He brushed my cheek with his thumb. “I’ll be good now, I promise.” Another sweep of his fingers took the rest of my tears away before he set the glass aside and faced me again.
I dug deep for the courage to ask him what he was doing with me. I had to know or I knew I’d surely go mad. “What was all that tonight, Neil?”
He shook his head slowly. “I’m just in awe that you’re really here.” He reached forward again, this time entwining his fingers with one of my hands, until he gently held them suspended between us. “I can hardly believe it,” he whispered. He stayed quiet for a minute, just holding my hand before he spoke again, his eyes carefully watching. “You never answered my question back at the pub you know.”
I gasped and shook my head, pulling on my hand to unclasp it from his. “No, that was bloody stupid and I didn’t mean it.”
My efforts at resisting were completely pointless because Neil wasn’t having any of it. He just gripped my hand harder. “Tell me, Elaina. Who do you want that you think you cannot have?” His voice was liquid soft and hard as steel, both the same time. I couldn’t lie to him. Not when he asked me like this, face to face. The tension between us so raw, there was nothing to stop the hemorrhaging of my heart as it bled out all over Neil’s bed sheets.
“You,” I whispered, sure that my world was about to collapse in shambles once the truth was out there.
The most remarkable thing happened then. Neil closed his eyes for just a second, as if in relief at my answer, before bringing his forehead to rest against mine. We stayed like that for a bit, just the normal night sounds of London and the touch of our heads and hands, reminding me that this was indeed real and not a dream. My heart pounded deep in my chest, serving as another reminder that I wasn’t dead and had just survived something miraculous.
A second miracle occurred when he nudged his head down and found my lips.
Neil kissed me.
We kissed.
I let him explore me, his soft beautiful mouth merging with mine, learning the feel of my lips as I learned his, gaining the experience of knowing what it was like to share the intimacy. His tongue was even softer, seeking entry in a gentle way but one I couldn’t refuse either. I was aware only of us coming together and trying to ride the immense wave of attraction I felt for this man.
Neil took his time with our first kiss, but he could have taken me anywhere, done anything to me, asked anything of me. I would have been willing.
Nibbling on my lips in the softest way, tangling his tongue in with mine, he made me ache for more, and at the same time, want to weep in thankfulness that he’d finally come for me. This is really happening.
I don’t know how many long moments passed before he stopped kissing me and pulled back. “Let me be the first to tell you that you were wrong.” He stared at me, his thumb brushing back and forth at my cheek, his expression firm and solid.
It was my turn to close my eyes in relief this time. “I was wrong?”
“Dead wrong, Cherry.” He nodded slowly, his eyes searing. “You may have me.”
“What?” The ability to comprehend information had obviously left me.
“You can have me,” he repeated, still holding my hand intertwined, his expression still burning into me with his dark, soulful eyes.
But why—when did you know this—wait—you came to the pub tonight—you came tonight…because…?”
“Because I heard you’d broken off with that f**kin’ arse, Tompkins, and I was home on leave to actually do something about it for once. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this?” His voice had a definite edge to it now. “For the timing to work out for us?” He sounded frustrated.
“You were waiting.” I was in such disbelief I again repeated his words, trying to accept everything he was telling me. “You’ve been waiting...”
“I have.” He leaned in toward my lips but didn’t touch them. “Waiting and waiting forever. For you. Waiting for you to grow up. Waiting for you to see me as something more than just a friend of Ian’s. Waiting for the right time to tell you how I feel about you.” He whispered so close, I could feel the brush of breath from his beautiful words. “Just a very long time of waiting, Elaina.”
“Oh…” I felt more tears threatening to spill.
“I don’t want to wait anymore.” His eyes melded into me and held on. “Please don’t make me wait for you any longer,” he pleaded. “I can’t do it, Cherry. I just can’t.”
Such beautiful words. And they came from his mouth to my ears, about me…
“So tell me now, please.” I took a deep breath and reached out a trembling hand to his face. I needed to touch him and feel the warmth of his skin. I needed to feel him in order to help my poor brain accept that this was really and truly happening in the moment—not some beautiful fantasy dream I would have to wake up from. It sure felt like a dream though. Neil has been waiting for me…
Here we both were talking about our feelings and wants and desires. Neil had me close enough to touch in his bed at his flat.
Truly unbelievable.
Again, I summoned my courage and asked, “I want to—no—Neil, I need to know exactly what you feel for me,” I whispered. “I have to hear you say it to believe it.”
He took hold of my shaking hand and brought it to his lips, his eyes never wavering from mine, and said the three words I’d dreamed about for forever, but never believed would come.
“I love you,” he said clearly, just before kissing my hand again.
6
His declaration was soft and gentle in the way he formed his words, but so honest and clear at the same time, I believed he meant it. Neil had just told me he loved me and I believed him.
I felt my heart lose a beat; sure it’d just up and stopped working, when he’d said those three little words to me. Hearts will do that when under emotional duress or when something sad or terrible comes along. I think this qualified as emotional duress. No sad or terrible here tonight though. This was glorious and perfect.
“No bloody fair,” I said pitifully.
“Sorry, that was awful.” He brushed my cheek with his thumb. “I’ll be good now, I promise.” Another sweep of his fingers took the rest of my tears away before he set the glass aside and faced me again.
I dug deep for the courage to ask him what he was doing with me. I had to know or I knew I’d surely go mad. “What was all that tonight, Neil?”
He shook his head slowly. “I’m just in awe that you’re really here.” He reached forward again, this time entwining his fingers with one of my hands, until he gently held them suspended between us. “I can hardly believe it,” he whispered. He stayed quiet for a minute, just holding my hand before he spoke again, his eyes carefully watching. “You never answered my question back at the pub you know.”
I gasped and shook my head, pulling on my hand to unclasp it from his. “No, that was bloody stupid and I didn’t mean it.”
My efforts at resisting were completely pointless because Neil wasn’t having any of it. He just gripped my hand harder. “Tell me, Elaina. Who do you want that you think you cannot have?” His voice was liquid soft and hard as steel, both the same time. I couldn’t lie to him. Not when he asked me like this, face to face. The tension between us so raw, there was nothing to stop the hemorrhaging of my heart as it bled out all over Neil’s bed sheets.
“You,” I whispered, sure that my world was about to collapse in shambles once the truth was out there.
The most remarkable thing happened then. Neil closed his eyes for just a second, as if in relief at my answer, before bringing his forehead to rest against mine. We stayed like that for a bit, just the normal night sounds of London and the touch of our heads and hands, reminding me that this was indeed real and not a dream. My heart pounded deep in my chest, serving as another reminder that I wasn’t dead and had just survived something miraculous.
A second miracle occurred when he nudged his head down and found my lips.
Neil kissed me.
We kissed.
I let him explore me, his soft beautiful mouth merging with mine, learning the feel of my lips as I learned his, gaining the experience of knowing what it was like to share the intimacy. His tongue was even softer, seeking entry in a gentle way but one I couldn’t refuse either. I was aware only of us coming together and trying to ride the immense wave of attraction I felt for this man.
Neil took his time with our first kiss, but he could have taken me anywhere, done anything to me, asked anything of me. I would have been willing.
Nibbling on my lips in the softest way, tangling his tongue in with mine, he made me ache for more, and at the same time, want to weep in thankfulness that he’d finally come for me. This is really happening.
I don’t know how many long moments passed before he stopped kissing me and pulled back. “Let me be the first to tell you that you were wrong.” He stared at me, his thumb brushing back and forth at my cheek, his expression firm and solid.
It was my turn to close my eyes in relief this time. “I was wrong?”
“Dead wrong, Cherry.” He nodded slowly, his eyes searing. “You may have me.”
“What?” The ability to comprehend information had obviously left me.
“You can have me,” he repeated, still holding my hand intertwined, his expression still burning into me with his dark, soulful eyes.
But why—when did you know this—wait—you came to the pub tonight—you came tonight…because…?”
“Because I heard you’d broken off with that f**kin’ arse, Tompkins, and I was home on leave to actually do something about it for once. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this?” His voice had a definite edge to it now. “For the timing to work out for us?” He sounded frustrated.
“You were waiting.” I was in such disbelief I again repeated his words, trying to accept everything he was telling me. “You’ve been waiting...”
“I have.” He leaned in toward my lips but didn’t touch them. “Waiting and waiting forever. For you. Waiting for you to grow up. Waiting for you to see me as something more than just a friend of Ian’s. Waiting for the right time to tell you how I feel about you.” He whispered so close, I could feel the brush of breath from his beautiful words. “Just a very long time of waiting, Elaina.”
“Oh…” I felt more tears threatening to spill.
“I don’t want to wait anymore.” His eyes melded into me and held on. “Please don’t make me wait for you any longer,” he pleaded. “I can’t do it, Cherry. I just can’t.”
Such beautiful words. And they came from his mouth to my ears, about me…
“So tell me now, please.” I took a deep breath and reached out a trembling hand to his face. I needed to touch him and feel the warmth of his skin. I needed to feel him in order to help my poor brain accept that this was really and truly happening in the moment—not some beautiful fantasy dream I would have to wake up from. It sure felt like a dream though. Neil has been waiting for me…
Here we both were talking about our feelings and wants and desires. Neil had me close enough to touch in his bed at his flat.
Truly unbelievable.
Again, I summoned my courage and asked, “I want to—no—Neil, I need to know exactly what you feel for me,” I whispered. “I have to hear you say it to believe it.”
He took hold of my shaking hand and brought it to his lips, his eyes never wavering from mine, and said the three words I’d dreamed about for forever, but never believed would come.
“I love you,” he said clearly, just before kissing my hand again.
6
His declaration was soft and gentle in the way he formed his words, but so honest and clear at the same time, I believed he meant it. Neil had just told me he loved me and I believed him.
I felt my heart lose a beat; sure it’d just up and stopped working, when he’d said those three little words to me. Hearts will do that when under emotional duress or when something sad or terrible comes along. I think this qualified as emotional duress. No sad or terrible here tonight though. This was glorious and perfect.
