Say the Word(119)

I didn’t think about repercussions or consequences. I didn’t think about anything but Sebastian, and how desperately I needed to feel his bare skin on mine. I extended my hand up to him. “Touch me, Bash. I’m no dream — I’m real.” My voice was breathy. “Touch me. Please.”

At my words, his restraint shredded completely. He was on me, in me, before he’d even settled fully on the bed, his thrust making us both gasp in unison at the feeling of being whole again, rejoined and connected, for the first time in so long I’d nearly forgotten what it could be like. Our eyes locked, the inferno of passion blazing so strongly between us I thought his gaze might burn me to ashes, but I couldn’t look away.

My view was perfection — the man I loved hovering over me and, on the wall above us, a gorgeous backdrop of the most beautiful oak tree in the world. And, to me, it was somehow right, somehow perfect, that after all this time, our joining should happen once again beneath the shadows of our tree, sheltered under its sweeping boughs as we’d been one spring day a million afternoons ago… Back when we were two dumb kids, fumbling and stumbling upon the joys of one another for the first time. Young and in love and, for a brief time, full of infinite dreams for a bright future together.

Those kids we’d been weren’t gone — they were still inside us, calling out in ecstasy at having found each other again after all this time. And as the grown man and woman we’d become reveled in the joy of rediscovering each other, so did the souls of our youth. They sang out, a hymn of passion and reunion, their joyous melody guiding me down the path to sheer oblivion, and I felt my chest swell with pressure.

I felt a short, sharp sensation within the left side of my breast — a pang, as though my chest was overflowing with too much blood — followed by the most intense feeling of completeness, of utter wholeness I’d ever experienced. Pleasure built to a tipping point, crashing me down into release, and my last thought as I spun madly into euphoria was that after seven long years, it had finally happened.

I had my heart back.





***


I used the illuminated screen from my cellphone to guide me around the loft. A glance back at the bed revealed that Bash was still fast asleep, sprawled across the down comforter with his limbs askew. I wanted nothing more than to climb back in bed with him, but that would have to wait for a while.

I had something to do first.

The familiar ping of my cellphone receiving a text message had woken me from a deep slumber. I’d opened my eyes to find my limbs completely entwined with Bash’s. His leg was wrapped around mine, one arm was thrown over my midsection, and his face was nestled into the hollow of my throat. I’d smiled as I slowly untangled myself from the knot of limbs and linens on the bed, moving cautiously so as not to wake him. There were deep shadows under his eyes from one too many sleepless nights of work and worry. It was easy to forget that in addition to everything we now knew about Labyrinth, the weight of the entire Centennial issue was on his shoulders as well.

Bash stirred once as I worked myself free, but simply shifted and sighed before falling back into a deep sleep. When I managed to make my way to the edge of the bed, I turned back around to look at him with a small smile on my lips. I wasn’t sure how I’d managed to survive so long without seeing his face every day, without hearing his laugh or being the subject of his jokes, but I wasn’t going to do it anymore.

Screw the honorable Senator Andrew Covington and his NDA. If he wanted to play hardball with me — threaten to take my parents’ house, come after me for repayment of Jamie’s medical bills, or demand restitution for breaking the terms of our contract — that was just fine. After what I’d learned tonight at Labyrinth, there was only one of us who should be worried about the fallout from their actions — and it wasn’t me.

When I reached the center of the loft, I grabbed Bash’s discarded white button down and pulled it on. In the darkness, I stubbed my toe on his coffee table, letting out a subdued scream of pain as I hopped silently toward the countertop where I’d left my purse. I pulled my cellphone out just as another low ping sounded, alerting me to an incoming text. Sliding my finger across the screen, I saw I had three unanswered messages from Fae.

Fae: Are you awake?

Fae: Are you awake now?

Fae: How are you possibly still asleep? If you don’t text back, I’m coming over.

Lux: I’m here. Relax.

Fae: Well, I was worried. You didn’t text me after your super secret mission.

Lux: Long story — will explain in person.

Fae: Perfect! Come downstairs.

Lux: What?

Fae: I’m here. Come to the parking garage — black limo waiting by the elevator.

Lux: What on earth are you doing here?

Fae: Just come down and I’ll explain everything. Don’t bring your boy toy.

Lux: I’m getting the feeling I’m not going to like whatever you have to say…

Fae: COME DOWN.

Lux: What if this isn’t even Fae? What if it’s someone who stole Fae’s phone and is trying to kidnap me?

Fae: You have watched way too many Lifetime murder mysteries. It’s me.

Lux: Prove it.

Fae: Fine. Your deepest regret — last summer you were eating a pint of Ben & Jerry’s as you walked down 42nd. You dropped your spoon on the dirty sidewalk. Rather than let your ice cream melt, you wiped off the spoon on your t-shirt, stuck it back in your mouth, and proceeded to eat the entire pint.