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I dig my chin in his chest, making him chuckle. “You so do.”
Smirking, he fists my hair because well, that’s just his thing. “Yeah, what do I say?”
I bite my lip, grinning. “You say how much you love my apple pies. How sorry you are for leaving all your dirty laundry on the floor and how you should kiss your wife’s feet for cleaning up after you.”
He rolls me over so I’m on my back and he’s between my thighs. “Oh, I definitely talk about that. I definitely talk about kissing my wife, making her dirty and eating her pie.”
Giggling, I squirm under him. “You’re so cheesy, Abel. The cheesiest guy ever.”
“But you still love me.”
I nod before I arch my back and invite him inside my body. “I do.”
Once our lust is sated for the time being, I tell him that in some parts of the world it’s actually okay to marry your first cousin. There’s no taboo against it.
“You shouldn’t hate them, Abel. Especially not because of me. Especially not because of our love. Promise me you won’t hate them. Promise me, Abel. Our love won’t be the reason of more hate.”
He nods. “I promise I’ll try.”
“Thank you.” I kiss his chin.
As I drift off to sleep on his naked, sweaty chest, I wonder how anyone can have a vendetta against love. I wonder why people wage wars in the name of it when all love ever asks for is peace.
Soon, our reprieve comes to an end though. Abel has to go back to work and I ask him to bring me along. Although, we’ve talked about his job and how it all works, we haven’t broached the topic about us being in front of the camera. I guess, we’re both afraid to talk about it, acknowledge the things we’re feeling. Or maybe it’s just me. I can’t help but think how un-normal it is. How unaccepted. How unconventional. And how much I’m intrigued by it all.
We’re getting ready in the bathroom to go to the warehouse. Abel’s taking a shower while I’m doing what I almost never do: putting some make-up on. But I feel like I need it today. I need to look my best. I carefully apply eyeliner and mascara, and paint my lips a darker shade of pink before curling my straight hair.
Abel pulls back the shower curtain, which I think is growing something at the bottom where it meets the water. We definitely need to step up our game in looking for an apartment.
He’s wet, his dirty blond hair slicked back, drops of water clinging to his muscles, and he’s naked. God, my husband is the sexiest man alive.
He snags a towel from the hook on the door and wraps it around his waist. “What’d you do to my hair?” Abel frowns, looking at my hair.
“Your hair?” I raise my eyebrows at him.
He picks up a long, curled strand and rubs it softly between his fingers, totally belying the tone of his voice and his glare. “Uh huh.”
How is it that he makes me smile and want to hit him, at the same time? “I styled it. What? Does it look stupid?”
He takes in my face, roving his eyes all over it. I feel self-conscious. I mean, I’m not an expert but I think I can put on some make-up. Every girl is born with that gene, right? I just need a little practice. He bends down toward me, all wet and warm.
“Abel, you’re dripping down on my dress,” I chide, looking at the wet spots on the pink fabric.
Cupping my jaw, he cranes my neck and kisses the hell out of me. He eats at my lips, nibbles at the seam and licks off my lipstick. By the time he raises his head, I’m breathing hard, clutching at his necklace. “Don’t ever put that weird color on my lips.”
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he leaves, ruining everything I put so much effort into, and making me sort of smile.
When we reach the warehouse, Abel opens the metal door but then pauses. He looks back and extends his hand toward me, palm up. The skin on his pads is rough and I know how good it feels when it scrapes against my skin. Doesn’t matter if he’s caressing my cheek or spanking my butt. His hands never fail to make me safe.
I slide my hand into his.
Together, we step into another world. Light. There’s so much light in here. it’s unnatural. Like stars go to die in this place, releasing all the light inside them that no mere mortal can handle. Abel signs me in at the door and gets me a visitor pass. Something I didn’t notice when I was here last time.
The number of beds is the same. Three. But the scenes are different. Today I take the time to study them all.
