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“Hey, amore, are you ok? Talk to me.”
No.
“I’m fine, it’s just…I had pneumonia.” And now my lungs were on fire. “It left a mark on me.”
“Have you gotten that checked out?” He placed a gentle hand on my back while I coughed a couple more times and tried to calm my breath.
“Yeah, it’s nothing, I just get a little choked up if I overexert myself,” I replied dismissively.
Roman looked at me like I just slapped him.
“What the hell, Salva? You should have told me; I would have been gentler.” Could he? If his desire for me was half as powerful as mine, I knew there was no way. All those years of longing, all the nights when I fell asleep crying his name. Touching that paradise again was too powerful to be gentle.
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Get into bed and I’ll bring you some water.”
My first instinct was to push him away, but the raging in my chest wouldn’t stop if I didn’t lay flat on my back and do some breathing exercises. It wasn’t my first time going through this. Carrying bags of flour around all day or lifting Remy up could send me into a coughing fit.
Roman came back a few minutes later with a glass of iced water with lemon and a jar of honey. He didn’t bother to cover his body in any way, which was expected from someone who was built like a god. I, on the other hand, was back under the sheet and was grateful that the lights were turned off.
“Here, amore, drink this.”
“Thank you.” I took a few sips. My breath was back to normal, but I still had a bit of a whistling in my throat. “What’s with the honey?”
“My grandmother’s secret. Honey is a good emollient for a sore throat. I figured it would do you good after coughing so hard.”
He opened the jar, bringing a spoonful to my lips and I swallowed it gratefully. My throat was irritated and he was right to think I needed something soothing. Usually, I would have made a cup of chamomile tea and drank it lukewarm.
“I’m good now. Sorry for ruining the mood.”
“Don’t talk stupid. You didn’t ruin anything, Salva.” He lowered his face to mine and kissed me long and slow, letting his tongue wander around. “You taste like honey and something else. Something sweeter.”
“Something else?” He nodded. “Sweeter than honey.”
“You. There’s nothing that tastes quite like you, amore.”
“Roman,” I sighed regretfully; I needed to tell him that the fairytale was over, that we had our one-last-time and now it was time to get back to real life, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. “I should go back home.”
He snuck under the sheets next to me.
“Ha, funny.”
“Roman, I’m serious.”
He turned me on my back and slapped my ass before gluing my back to his chest.
“You said Romina is watched by someone.”
“Yes, but…”
“No. There is no but. Go to sleep because I’m not letting you go.”
Roman didn’t give me a chance to protest further. He covered us both under the sheet, like we were sharing a cocoon, and held me tight with his strong arms.
His warmth and his protection wrapped around me after all these years I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
