I’m at the door It’s locked.
Oops! I fell back asleep. I jump up and go to the front door and open it in a rush. And there he stands. Tall, dark and extremely handsome. I smile broadly and go to cuddle him.
He looks around at the guards. “Tash, not here. Inside.” He pushes me back in the house. I smile bashfully. I am wearing grey satin boxer shorts and a white singlet, and my hair is all over the place. He is in a dark suit and never has he looked more beautiful.
Gently he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear and tenderly leans down and kisses me. He’s so much taller when I have no shoes on. He runs his fingers down my cheek and wipes them over my lips as he seems to study my face, his face is serious and pensive.
I smile. “You’re very intense tonight, Mr Stanton,” I whisper as I run my hands over the back of his hair.
He smiles down at me. “Am I?”
I nod and kiss him again, the kiss ends and we stand silently, resting our cheeks together intimately as we embrace. What’s going on here? This is new.
“Thanks for coming,” I smile into the quietness. “Are you hungry? I can make you something,” I whisper as I pull him into the kitchen by the hand.
He follows me in and stands resting his behind against the bench in the corner of the kitchen.
I start to fuss around in the pantry. “Do you want some toast? A cup of tea?” I ask.
He smiles and nods. “Yes please.” He looks around the house. “I haven’t been here for a long time,” he says quietly.
I smile and nod. I don’t want to bring up the last time he was here. It was horrific.
He stays silent and I know he has remembered that awful day also. I silently make his snack while he watches me and I hand him the plate.
“Thanks.” he smirks.
“You’re welcome,” I breathe.
“Show me your room,” he whispers.
I nod like a nervous fourteen-year-old about to show her boyfriend her room for the first time. “This way.” I take his hand and lead him down the hall to my bedroom. Why does it feel more intense in this house than it does in mine? I’m nervous.
I get to the door and gesture with my arm into the doorway. “Here it is,” I stammer.
He can sense my nerves and smiles as he walks in and looks around. “Has it changed since you moved out?”
I shake my head nervously. “No, this is how I left it.” I close the door behind us.
He sits in the chair in the corner and smiles again as his eyes scan the room.
“Hmm, it’s nice. Your presence is very strong in here,” he whispers.
I smile meekly. I know why I am nervous. This is the first time Joshua has been here as my boyfriend … booty call, whatever the hell I am.
“My presence? That’s very deep,” I stammer.
He puts his toast and tea on the side table and sits on my bed and rubs the mattress in a circle. He pats it for me to sit next to him and I do.
“Is this the bed you slept on?” he asks.
I smile and nod.
“Did you ever think of me when you were lying in it?” he whispers as his eyes darken and drop to my lips.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Did you ever touch yourself while you thought of me?”
I drop my head and he puts his finger under my chin and brings my face back up to his as his eyes search mine.
“Yes,” I whisper again as I twist my hands nervously in front of me.
“Did you ever think you would have me sleep in this bed with you?” he smirks sexily as he runs his hand down my clavicle and cups my breast.
“No,” I whisper.
“How are we going to celebrate our strength in this bed tonight?” he whispers as he leans in and kisses me softly and his lips linger over mine.
He’s right, this is a momentous night. I would lie here and cry myself to sleep every night wishing that he wasn’t my cousin, wishing that we could be here together, wishing that I had my parents’ support. And here we are eight long years later, he is not biologically my cousin although my stomach twists with the hurt that knowledge brings. We are here together and my mother is one hundred per cent behind us. I make an internal decision, I love this man and I do want to celebrate my strength … with him.
I kiss him gently. “I want you to make love to me in this bed tonight, Josh. I want more than anything to be able to celebrate our strength together.” My hand drops to his face and I kiss him gently again.
“Tash,” he whispers. His lips take mine and the emotion behind it rips my heart wide open. That’s it, I’m gone.
I smile as my eyes fill with tears. “I love you,” I whisper. “Make love to me, baby. I need you.”
He kisses me again, more urgently, more intensely. His tongue gently licks my lips as his hands hold my face, and my insides start to liquefy. He stands and, with his eyes not leaving mine, he starts to undress slowly and my heart starts to thump in my chest.
“What about your toast?” I ask nervously.
His eyes flick to the side table and his vegemite toast on the plate. “Fuck the toast.”
I giggle. “Sshh,” he snaps. “You mother is upstairs.”
I giggle again as I hold my hand over my mouth to stop myself from making noise.
He strips naked and turns to face me, his eyes still on mine. My eyes drop to the perfect man in front of me, my name firmly branding his beautiful body. His dark skin and rippled abdomen call to my libido on a level I will never understand, but it’s his heart that I love. The fact that he comes wrapped in such beautiful sexy packaging is just a bonus, the icing on the cake. I would love him the same even if he was a broke skinny surfie … like he was when we fell in love.
He walks over to my door and flicks the lock, then returns and turns on my lamp on the bedside table.
“I want to see your face as I fill you, precious girl.” He kisses me again and I practically melt into his arms. My body starts to weaken with arousal. I need this. I can feel the pulse throbbing between my legs.
He very slowly, while not breaking eye contact, pulls my shirt over my head. His eyes drop to my breasts, to my erect nipples. Slowly, so slowly, he drops his hands to my behind and very gently slides my boxer shorts down my legs. He hisses as he sucks on my nipple. His hand drops to between my legs where he parts me and starts to slowly circle my clitoris with perfect pressure.
“There’s my girl. You’re so wet baby,” he whispers into my chest.
I nod, unable to talk, with my hand on his forearm. Every time with this man is like the first time, the very first time he touched me. That panting excitement when I feel like I can’t breathe from his touch … without his touch, like I’m seventeen and a virgin, new to the joy of love making. I can feel the want in his hands and it brings me to my knees I can’t move, I am frozen on the spot. My head drops back and my eyes close in anticipation, and goosebumps run over my body as he starts to gently bite me. This is what he does so well, pushes me with that little bit of pain until I’m desperate for him to actually hurt me. For him to take me without abandon, to take his pleasure from my body and damn the consequences.
“Lie down presh,” he whispers.