AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I prop my head up on an arm to take in the view that gets me drooling every time, as Bo stands gazing at me… posed with muscles naturally flexed and nostrils flared, like a rodeo bull. I can see him loving the way I stare, until he lunges onto the bed and wraps himself around me in one swift, aggressive motion.
When he rolls over and pulls me on top, I grind against him and kiss his breath away…unable to contain the full height of my need to have Bo inside me. But he allows me to mount him for only a short while before lifting me up and hauling me back to the bathroom, my legs still clinging around his waist.
Bo turns the water back on and I watch as he lathers up a big, soft sea sponge with moisturizing gel, filling the steamy shower with the sharp, edible scent of yuzu citrus. I’m forced to pry my eyes away as he gently turns me around and begins sponging my back in long, delicious strokes.
I arch my back into the sponge, soaking up the massaging sensation while also longing for more. Bo moves forward just far enough for me to feel his response to my body language. My urgency for him triples, but he makes me wait while he proceeds to wash and condition my hair…rubbing my scalp into a state of deep relaxation.
Once Bo’s finally finished, I take the sponge and rub it across every muscle of his body, tracing over the lines of his tattoo…roses, lilies, orchids, and vines emblazoned in the finest detail. I squat down to soap between his tree trunk thighs, taking in a spectacular view, until Bo’s patience reaches its threshold and he beckons me upward toward his gilded ride to ecstasy.
Chapter 38
Bo
“I love you too much,” Fiona tells me later, just before I turn out our bedside lamp.
“Nuh-uh, you can’t love me too much,” I return.
“I love you too much,” she insists.
“Wait…what? What was that again?” I ask.
“I love you.”
“What now?” I prod. “I keep forgettin.”
“I love you,” she tells me once more, laughing now and hittin me with a pillow.
The last thing I see before sleep is the silken back of the head of a goddess. I still can’t fully process that she’s here, no matter how many times I tell Jose all about her…tryin to solidify that my own reality is real. That I’m not gonna wake in the mornin to find it was all a big beautiful dream.
Yet I do still dream about Fiona. She manages to haunt my days and nights with equal magnitude. But, for the first time, I enjoy the waking side even more than the dream side of life. Watching Fiona by the pool, in the kitchen, strolling through rows of flowers to pick indoor arrangements to her heart’s content. My eyes just can’t get enough of her.
Lyin in bed at night, dreamin away, the images of her are different than they used to be. She comes to me out of the shadows still, long hair hangin around her like a shaman woman, but her eyes are alive and forward…searchin through me like I’m made of glass. All the tension is gone. She used to appear as a woman on a mission, intently focused if not distressed, but now those eyes blaze ahead like sun pillars… sweepin over the landscape of possibilities as it expands out before her. She stands tall but not rigid, her expression sober without being hard.
Sometimes the wind whips around her wildly, blowin her hair and skirts into a flourish. There’s a far off look in her eyes when her vision of the future becomes muddied in the stormy swirl, and she finds me watchin and turns to me in the dream. I hold out my hands to her and say, “Follow me Fiona. Follow your beautiful, sacred heart.”
