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Heboughtme new ballet shoes. Hebookedthis theatre. Heinvitedpeople I love and people who can change my life.
“I am sorry,” he tells me in the closed-off privacy of the backstage dressing room when we’re finally alone together. “I truly am sorry for everything I did to you. For not fighting for you stronger when we were younger, and for breaking the promise I made you. It was all wrong. I am truly, deeply sorry, Emma.”
I take in a deep breath and look at him.
And I realize what I should’ve realized a hell of a long time ago...
He truly is being sincere. I can take him at his word.
I stand up so that I’m facing him. I look up at the tall Penmayne. I look at him deep in his beautiful blue eyes.
“Just hold me, August,” I whisper to him, my voice weak.
“You want me to hold you?” he asks.
“Please,” I reply, my voice turning even softer.
And he does.
He wraps his muscular arms around me and holds me tight. And I hold him tight. And we embrace for a very, very long time.
I lose count of the minutes because I am too lost in this moment - thisbeautifulmoment. Too lost in this connection we share that stretches back through the years, all the way back to when we were kids with August holding me for the very first time. I had felt at home and at peace in that moment back then, and now I return to that very same feeling as we stand here in this dressing room as adults.
“You don’t wear glasses anymore,” I finally say as my head is buried in the man’s well-developed, toned chest.
He laughs at that. I feel it course through his body as I hold him close.
“No, I don’t anymore,” he replies. “I haven’t worn them for a long time.”
“That’s a shame.”
“A shame?”
“I liked those glasses,” I say. “They made you sexy.”
He seems taken aback by that comment.
“Really? You liked them?”
I lean away from him and look back up at his blue eyes which aren’t behind any glasses.
“Yes, really.”
He leans down and kisses me then.
It’s perfect.
And this kiss isn’t tender - this is passionate. Loving.Wanting.
And I find myself moving my hands over his body – touching him all over almost uncontrolled. I touch him wherever I can find him. Goddamn, I want him close to me. As close as freaking possible. The feeling is overwhelming - I want us to wrap up in each other. I’m feeling so hot and my entire body is craving for him and his scent and his strength. His freaking perfect kiss has suddenly and delightfully sparked something deep previously confined within me... something I haven’t experienced for an eternity and which I welcome with every fiber of my being.
Oh, August. I remember this feeling...
The man growls at my desperate touch.
“I like you touching my body like this,” he whispers between long kisses. “The way you want me...”
He knows.
