“Okay…” God, I sounded like such a trembling idiot. “This…with us…it is real, right?” My insecurity rang out clearly in the tone of my voice. I breathed heavier as my heart pounded, waiting for him to answer.
“Yes, Cherry, it’s real.” He tugged on my chin with his index finger to get me to look up.
I could see the earnestness in his eyes, and in the way he studied me with his dark browns when I finally looked at him.
“Completely real.” He took one of my hands and placed the palm over his heart. “Feel that while I kiss you,” he said, before sliding behind my neck with his other hand and pulling me onto those soft magical lips of his, “and you’ll know it’s very real.”
But this time, Neil was trying to make a point, and his kiss was more demanding as he tangled tongues with me. He plundered my mouth and I allowed him access. And I did feel his heartbeat under my hand.
I tried to memorize this moment because I couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting how I felt with him at that moment.
When Neil finally broke away from our kiss he still held the back of my neck firmly in his hand, taking control of our moment together, and I loved it. He made me feel cherished and I wanted to float in the feelings for forever.
“Cherry, I love you. And I just need you to be here with me. That’s all I want. I won’t ask you for more than that until it’s right, and we both want it. We’ll know when that time comes. And everything else will get itself worked out when we’re ready. Okay?” Another slow and thorough trace of his tongue in my mouth had my stomach fluttering and my heart racing.
I managed to nod back and whisper, “Yes.” I brought my hands up to hold both sides of his face. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”
Then, Neil smiled at me. His entire beautiful face lighting up from his eyes to his chin. My guy looked really happy. My guy. I have a guy. Neil. Neil McManus is my man now.
Christmas and my birthday had come to me early this year, and both at the same time apparently.
Then I watched him get up from the bed and head into his bathroom. I heard the shower turn on and then the opening and closing of cupboards. He returned a few moments later with a big towel to wrap around me, and said he’d left me a shirt and some shorts I could wear after my shower if I liked. He told me he would be in the kitchen setting up the coffeemaker for the morning, and then he left the bedroom and closed the door.
I stayed in Neil’s bed for another moment and did my best to take everything in. I was definitely a mess on the outside, but inside where my heart still thwacked out a beat, I was absolutely floating around cloud nine.
He loved me. Neil really loved me, but damn if I’d allow him to kiss me again before I got clean and comfortable. I felt utterly gross and hideous and still had trouble processing all that had just happened with us in the span of a very few hours.
I left his bed and headed into the bathroom. The shower was already hot and steaming up the small space. As promised, he’d set out his toothbrush and paste for me to use, and even some silky boxers and a soft black T-shirt with The Jimi Hendrix Experience in white letters across the front.
I knew Neil was a Hendrix fan, and I’d even seen him wearing this very shirt on occasion, and yet the fact he’d picked it out for me in particular, touched me. I reached for it and buried my face in its softness, inhaling deeply. Neil’s scent has always been heavenly to me and I’d been addicted to it for years. Hard to describe, but, absolutely lush on my sensibilities. Like fresh air, and forest spice, and pure water all combined into the perfect blend of male fragrance.
And I’d been restricted from indulging in it for most of my life. But not anymore.
I shut the bathroom door, stripped out of my bra and knickers, and got clean in my boyfriend’s shower. I so loved the words contained in that thought.
I’m sure I wore a ridiculous grin on my face the whole time I scrubbed. Once I was done in his shower, and worked out my teeth with his toothbrush, I was still grinning stupidly into the mirror like an idiot. I was so glad the door was shut and Neil couldn’t see how much of a lovesick fool I was being at the time. Pointless indeed. He would know it the moment I stepped out, anyway. He probably already did know.
I left the bathroom dressed in his T-shirt and silky boxer shorts. Better than naked in a towel or my puked-spotted clothes, and really sexy to have my skin against things that had been against his previously.
His shirt came down to the top of my thighs and I’d already decided I was keeping the thing. Yeah, Neil’s beloved Hendrix shirt would forever belong to me. I had absolutely no qualms about my thievery either. I didn’t want to have to be without the scent of him once his leave was over. I wouldn’t have him for long before he had to go back to being owned by the British Army in Afghanistan. That meant his shirt wasn’t getting washed anytime soon. If ever.
My inner ramblings distracted me to the point I wasn’t thinking about what might be waiting for me when I came out. But the sight that greeted me upon my return to the bedroom in nothing but Neil’s shorts and shirt, was not even close to what I expected. Stopping dead in my tracks, I’m sure my eyes were bugging out of my skull. The towel I’d been using to dry my hair slid from my grip and onto the floor with a soft thud.
Neil was in his bed, and he was waiting. For me. Definitely for me.
Holy Hell, he was a beautiful man. Sitting up against the headboard, he was leaning back, his wide bare chest exposed for my eyes to drink in. The cuts and angles of his hard muscles and golden skin, in contrast to the white sheets, nearly made me whimper aloud. I wanted to touch him so badly and knew there was a very good chance I would be getting my wish soon.
I could see that his nipples were hard. His gaze was trained upon me, deep with liquidity, mysterious and sensual, with a bit of an edge. I could only imagine what he was thinking about. Sweaty, crazy, naked shagging I’m sure. I definitely was.
My nipples were hard too, and I felt an involuntary shiver roll down my spine at the thought of Neil putting his hands on them.
I’d seen his body before. I knew what Neil looked like without his shirt on, and I knew very well about the washboard abs, and how they tapered into a V at his hips that made my insides a quivering mess whenever I was lucky enough to get a decent look at him. Which happened only on occasion, unfortunately.
Neil was blessed with an earthly form that easily put him into mythical god territory, but I’d never been in a position to allow myself to think of him in that way. Those times I’d seen him had been when he was working out with Ian or roughing ’round with boys at football or having a swim.
This situation was completely different. Neil was like this for me, and for me alone. He was offering himself to me—his body for my eyes to see, for my hands to touch, and for my lips to kiss.
“You’ve dropped your towel,” he said softly, splaying a hand out over the sheet, making his forearm muscle flex.