I can’t form a sentence. There’s only one word in me. “Yes.”
He exhales. “Yes?”
“Yes.” I say again, “Please, yes.”
Then softly, “Can I come to you? Can I come to you now?”
“Yes,” I whisper again.
And then there’s a knock at the door. “Don’t worry,” he says gently through the phone. “It’s me. I’ve been waiting outside in my car.”
My heart is racing. I walk to the door, turn the knob, and open it to find him standing there. Hair tousled, eyes glassy but hopeful.
I don’t say anything. I just reach for him, and he steps into my arms.
I begin to kiss him, like I suddenly need to give myselfto him fully, and unconditionally. Not on my terms, not with caution and control, but with love.
The kiss is urgent and longing, and deep, but I pull myself away from it, so I can look at him directly, look right into those endless brown eyes when I say it.
“Je t’aime.”I love you.
And then I add.
“Je t’aimerai toujours.”I will always love you.
FORTY-SIX
SPENCER
She said yes.
To what? I’m not sure. And I don’t care. Whatever it is, it’s a start. It’s our start.
And she’s kissing me now in a way she never has before. It’s no less passionate or urgent, but somehow, it’s more vulnerable. Like she decided to let me in.
Really let me in.
Her hair is damp in my hands, and when I pull her close to me, I feel myself already getting hard. I don’t want her to think this is what I came for, and I wonder if I should stop. Make sure. I don’t want to screw this up.
But instead, I back her against the wall, so I can press myself against her, without knocking her over.
She looks me right in the eye, holding my gaze, so serious, so somber, and then she says it.
“Je t’aime. Je t’aimerai toujours.”I love you. I will always love you.
“Rhea, God help me, I have waited so long to hear those words.”
Then I add, “Je ne connaissais pas l’amour avant toi.” I didn’t know love until you.
She pulls me back to her, her mouth on mine. I put my hands to her waist and slide them up her sides. She has no bra under her sweatshirt, and my hands are on her breasts.
I hold one in each hand, knead them, her nipples hard and irresistible. I use my fingers to flick them in unison. Then come her moans, those soft, irresistible moans of hers, as her hand finds her way to my cock and strokes me through my jeans.
She takes her mouth from mine and nibbles my ear, finally whispering, “Papa et Maman devraient aller dans la chambre.”Papa and Mama should go into the bedroom.
I laugh right out loud.
I’m a parent now. I guess the thought of taking her right there in the hallway or on the kitchen table is ill-advised.
