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Davis
My eyes open just as the bedroom goes from shadowed nighttime darkness to filtered morning sunlight.
Merrick is sound asleep, his back nestled against my chest, my arms tightly around his body. I’ve never been the type to cuddle, not even when Chantal and I were first married. But as with so many other things in my life recently, he brings out a different side of me.
We breathe in tandem, short shallow puffs of air that are barely audible, the only other sound the slighttick-tick-tickfrom the clock on the nightstand. Burying my nose in the nape of his neck, I breathe in the intoxicating scent of his skin; the hint of sandalwood cologne mixed with soap…and the heady smell of sex.
A whole-body shiver overtakes me. Were it not for the sex scent wafting off the sheets—and our naked bodies—I might have been dreaming. But last night was no dream. It happened. It was real. And now I just have to get my head to accept the rightness of it all.
Easier said than done.
For all the wrong I’ve managed to do in my life, nothing has felt more centering than this moment. This man. I’m sure there are a thousand reasons why the two of us together isn’t a good idea, but I’ll be damned if I can think of any. Not now anyway. I’m pretty sure that when I wake all alone in my bed tomorrow morning, I’ll have plenty of doubts.
Not today though. Or, at least not yet anyway.
I can’t even begin to sort out the raging thoughts and feelings I have about what we did to one another last night. I don’t have a vast sexual history, but even I know that sex with Merrick was different, more intense, and far more intimate than anything I could have ever dreamed up or done before.
I’m grateful he didn’t have the energy to talk things out last night. We barely took the time to clean up before exhaustion set in. But if I know Merrick at all, I can guarantee that he won’t keep quiet today. Part of what I love about him is his ability to care so deeply about what I’m thinking and feeling.
Part of what I love…..
Love? I don’t love him. I don’t. Truth is I can’t love him, even if I wanted to. My life is too filled with shit from the past to even begin to think of a future with someone else. I have a wife I’m divorcing, a house to sell, an apartment to find. I’ve got a crappy job I hate, but that I have to stay at until I can get my finances under control. I’m not in any way free to offer myself to someone else. Or to love someone else.To love…him.
What the hell have I done?I’ve allowed my emotions to overtake my sense of right and wrong. I’ve allowed my loneliness to be the guide in this relationship; seeking him out time and time again when I really have no right to. And now, after everything that happened last night, my inability to return to my own bed the past two nights, and waking up next to his naked body against mine, I’m having a really hard time separating fact from fiction.
Here’s what I do know to be true: I’m greedy for him. Selfish. I keep taking and taking, never considering the bigger picture for him. Not that I think sexual experimentation is wrong, but this really feels like more than that. Regardless of whether or not I believe I can ever love Merrick, I have to ask myselfwhyI’d love him. Sure he’s been a good friend to me. Yes, he’s been there to support and listen to me talk about my painful past. But am I unnecessarily latching onto the first person to pay attention to me in years, or are those truly valid reasons for walking headlong into a partnership with him?
Being with Merrick—whether we’re running together or sharing a meal—feels good.Normal. Being with him here—in his house, his bed—feels pretty normal too. So why the hell am I second-guessing and overthinking everything to death? Why the hell can’t I just accept what this is and what we are and roll with it?
The answer comes too quickly:because you have too much to lose.
Really? That’s the only answer my stupid brain can think of this morning? What the hell do I have to lose that I haven’t already lost? I no longer have a wife or child. Soon, I won’t have a home either. I have no real friends to speak of, aside from Merrick, and a very tentative relationship with my family. I know they love me, but would they love themethat can’t let go of this man in my arms? Would they see the truth….that this is more than one lonely man seeking out another? Would they see—as I sometimes do—that he came into my life because fate made it so; without ulterior motives or undo expectations? And is their acceptance of me and him as a couple the deciding factor on whether or not I stay or walk away?
“Penny for your thoughts.” Merrick’s sleepy voice breaks through my momentary panic, but his eyes remain closed, giving me time to take a deep breath and calm myself down.
“Gonna take more than a penny. Might need to refinance the damn house.”
He chuckles, his back rumbling against my chest, the sound a soothing balm to my ears. “It’s not unexpected that you’d be a tad overwhelmed.”
“More than a tad.”Fuck…why do I do this to myself? Why the hell can’t I just accept what happened and be happy?
This answer comes far too quickly: Because feeling happy is a foreign concept. I haven’t been really happy in many, many years. I’ve grown to accept the nothing that my life has become, having no expectations for myself other than work and paying the mortgage each month. As odd as it may sound, mynothingwas safe. My unhappiness felt like I was paying back a debt owed. Having never been a big believer in happily ever after, I’d become resigned to the life that had been assigned to me. Now Merrick trips into my life, with his British swagger, kindness and confidence, and suddenly I’m questioning every damn thing.
He rolls to face me, fingers skimming along the side of my face, sleepy blue eyes looking me over. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
My caustic laughter makes him smirk. “Uh…the bigger question is what isn’t on my mind.”
“Okay, then let’s try this.” His lips graze mine and I feel the effect of that simple gesture all the way to my toes. “Last night was amazing.” Soft kisses drift along my jaw. “Waking up next to you is something I’ve wished for.” Like he always does, he snuggles into the crook of my neck. “If all we ever have is last night and this morning, I’ll be a happy man.”
He doesn’t come right out and say that he has no expectations for the two of us, but I can’t dismiss the emotion in his voice and in his words. I think I make the guy happy, and that’s just nuts. How can I—quite possibly one of the most miserable people in the world—bring happiness to a man like him; someone successful, handsome, and caring?
“Really?”
Lifting his head, he nods. “Really.” He offers me another sweet, brief kiss, then tosses the blankets aside and gets to his feet. Turning to face me, he grins wide when he sees me lustfully leering at him. My heart jumps around inside my chest as I take in the sight of him in the sunlight that’s filtering through the drapes. He’s beautifully sculpted with long, lean muscles and flat abs from all the running we do. His dark hair is a wild, sexy mess, one lock almost shielding his left brow. My eyes roll over him and finally center between his legs. The jolt of lust that hits me is the only reminder I need that last night really did indeed happen, and how much I thoroughly enjoyed myself.
I can say with all certainty that I’ve never looked at another person, let alone another man, and felt like I do right now; like I cannot possibly get enough. Like I’m willing to give him anything he asks for; my entire body, and my whole heart too. The surge of pleasure that hits me hard is comforting in a way. I’m not making this up because I’m lonely, at least not in this moment. I’m not imagining feelings and thoughts because my life sucks. This is real. He is real. And whatever we’re calling this between us, it’s real as well.
Leaning over, Merrick kisses me again, whispering, “Okay, you should probably stop looking now. You’re giving me ideas.” He wraps his hand around his now fully erect shaft and gives it a slow stroke. “Don’t want to scare you off.”
