Page 31 of Anywhere with You

“I’m sorry,” she said, gasping. “I should’ve asked.”

“I already asked. That implies consent,” I said in a rush, hurrying to get her mouth back on mine.

She laughed against my lips.

I made myself pause and pull away. “Why did you say no, before?”

She was breathless, her lips less than an inch from mine, the nearness unbelievably tantalizing, as though I hadn’t already tasted her. My craving for her had only grown.

She swallowed. “I thought…I thought you were being impulsive. I thought that once you’d had a chance to think about it, you’d change your mind about me.”

“Cara,” I whispered, but I couldn’t find another word to follow it. I just kissed her more.

I dropped the canvas bag from my shoulder, hearing the crack of the wine bottle as it hit the rocks. It was probably broken. It was empty, at least, but I’d be lint-rolling glass shards out of our clothes for hours. I didn’t care.

I wrapped both arms around Cara, and yes, I had been right, so very right, about those lips.

They were soft and delicious and so warm they were almost burning.

Her tongue touching mine, so gently, then so fiercely, made me instantly so tingly and eager for more that even the very erotic dreams I’d had about her didn’t compare.

She kissed me with hunger, with fire, as though whatever reservations Cara had had about me were forgotten.

I could offer her a few. I was married and probably about to be bankrupt. I was impulsive and incapable of treading lightly. I had barreled my way into Cara’s life the same way I’d barreled into Bridget’s, focused more on what I wanted than on what was best. For either of us.

But the thought was passing, subsumed by the softness of her skin and the pressure of our bodies.

One of my hands found the damp hair at her neck. I wrapped my fingers in the soft, dark curls, still carrying the warmth of the hot springs.

Our damp swimsuits were cool to the touch, but where my skin touched her skin was all this perfect, soft heat, and I couldn’t resist the impulse to pull her a little tighter, to feel her breasts against mine, to feel her hips, her legs.

I wondered if I should stop kissing her so I could breathe properly, but I couldn’t make myself do it. I couldn’t lose a millimeter that I’d gained here.

Her hands found my bare back, my neck, my hair. She tugged on my purple streak like she’d been dreaming of the moment.

I’d assumed that Cara would be cautious, like in most things, but in this moment, she was powerful. She was a goddess. She was doing what she wanted with her tongue and hands, and I was standing there, panting and elated and desperate for more.

“We have to…we have to stop,” I gasped.

“Why?” she asked, her mouth moving to my neck.

“Because…because fucking on the rocks won’t be comfortable for either of us.”

She laughed with her lips below my ear. It sounded like a purr.

Oh, I was very much going to do whatever she wanted. In fact, I very much wanted to do everything she’d ever wanted, until she fully understood how a lover was supposed to treat their beloved, until she never again settled for anything less.

“Cara.” I moaned without meaning to. I wrapped my fingers around the strings of her bikini top but didn’t pull until she reached a hand back and made my fingers close tighter, freeing the bows at the neck and back.

Several worshipful epithets came to mind, but my mouth was already back on hers. I’d gotten a glimpse of her breasts in the dim light and needed to fill in the rest of my impression with my palms and fingertips.

There was something about holding the weight of a breast, feeling its gravity, that made the infinite beauty of the universe clear to me. More than mountains, canyons, landforms, and every glimpse of deep space, this soft shape was holy.

I knew that Cara would laugh at me if I told her. I’d tell her anyway. Later.

* * *

At some point, we both lost track of our swimsuits. I took Cara’s hand and pulled her carefully to the edge of the hot spring.

She sat down, putting her feet back into the warm water. I kneeled on a stone ledge facing her, up to my armpits in the water, and pulled her forward, kissing her from mouth to breasts to stomach.

“Show me what you like,” I whispered and followed her instructions to the best of my ability, my palms making small circles over her nipples, my teeth at her neck.

She made no sign of protest when I pulled her hips closer to the edge of the pool and put my face between her thighs, my hands on her ass, moving over skin that I had fantasized over only hours before.

The taste of the warm mineral water on her skin was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I licked her slowly, thoroughly, leaving no fold untouched. When I finally centered on her clit, she moaned like she had just watched me wash a whole stack of dishes.

I moved one hand up to her breasts, but her hands were already there, fingertips moving across her nipples, her breath fast. I groaned against her skin.

I pressed my mouth between her legs with a passion that surprised even me, flitting my tongue against her slick skin, my body shaking as much as hers, and when she cried out, gripping my hair, shoving me so hard into her that I couldn’t breathe, I was nothing but delighted.

I pulled her tighter, licked her faster.

I didn’t move away until her cries ended and she pulled me up, out of the water, kissing me ferociously.

Her hands found every hungry part of my body, her mouth at my neck, tongue rough against my breasts, fingers running lightly over my back, my thighs, between my legs with the gentlest touch.

I pushed her more firmly against me, barely finding a rhythm against her fingers before I was coming, too, so turned on by her sounds and her eagerness that I was lost in seconds.

She joined me in the water, still kissing me, still exploring my body with her hands the same way I touched her, with awe and reverence.

The heat of the springs was even more divine now, our bodies lax and lazy, floating as much as standing in the deep center.

I was so accustomed to saying I love you that the words almost escaped me, making me laugh against Cara’s mouth.

“What?” Cara asked, pulling back from my laugh or my stillness. I was such a mess of thoughts that I didn’t know what to answer.

“Did you ever expect this?” I asked instead, imagining our days together, so very different than what this night had become.

Cara bit her lip, then nodded, and that shocked me.

“Are you kidding?” I asked. “You can’t tell me that this is what you had in mind when you invited me on this trip.”

“No,” she said, laughing. “Definitely not. But to say that I never thought about it? Never imagined it? That would be a lie.”

“Are you kidding?” I asked again, not believing her at all. “When?”

“Oh, goodness, for years.”

I backed away from her on impulse. I didn’t want to upset her. I wasn’t upset, but I was shocked.

Cara didn’t seem bothered. She cocked her head to the side and looked at me. I could only barely see her in the starlight and the glow of our abandoned flashlights.

“Come on, Honey. You know what you’re like.”

“Like?” I couldn’t find other words. My brain was stuttering.

“Yes,” she said, moving slowly toward me. “You’re gorgeous.” Her tongue flicked against her upper lip.

I huffed. I was overweight and rarely bothered to do more with my face than clean it. My hair was awesome, but that purple streak could only do so much.

“You are,” she insisted, still closing the small distance between us.

“Not just your body, though definitely your body, you should know. But also you’re fun and interesting, and the way you move, God.

I know that you’re not being intentionally sensual, but you move like someone…

like someone who is comfortable with having elbows. ”

Now I was laughing, letting her finish her approach and touch me again. “Like someone who has elbows?”

“No, like someone who has elbows and is totally okay with it.” She laughed, too, and kissed me gently.

“I don’t. I never know where my elbows should be, or what to do with my hands when I’m standing, or how to sit without drawing attention to my thighs.

I’ve picked out every piece of clothing in my closet with an eye to minimizing my flaws, and I feel like you’ve done the opposite. ”

“I do try to maximize my flaws,” I said, biting her earlobe. “I have a pair of pants that makes my ass look like a planet.”

“No,” she said, sounding half amused, half frustrated. “You dress to maximize the things you like about yourself.”

I pulled my head back to look at her. “Do I?”

“Yes. The purple shirt that looks like the one mechanics wear, the one that matches your hair, it fits perfectly against your body, like it was tailor-made. Or the one with the music notes that is way too big for you but is somehow exactly perfect. The capri pants that show off the guitar tattoo on your calf. Oh, and that low-cut black top? Your breasts look delicious in that.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said, and she grinned, pulling me back against her.

I thought about what she said, and about how none of those clothes were ones I’d brought on this trip. I hadn’t believed her when she said she’d been noticing me, that she’d imagined us together. But it was hard to dismiss the evidence.

“I almost told you,” she said, “days ago, when we were stuck in the elevator. I daydreamed about it, about touching you for the first time, there in the dark.”

A shiver ran through my whole body. I had not been a fan of being stuck in that elevator, but I, too, was perfectly happy to daydream about how it could’ve gone.

She must have felt the shiver. Her lips smiled against my shoulder, then bit me.

“If it helps,” I gasped, “I’m totally okay with you having elbows.”

“Very helpful,” she sighed, but it wasn’t an annoyed sigh. I had my teeth on her neck, my hands on the tantalizing sides of her breasts, all I could reach with our bodies pressed together, and she was happily losing track of our conversation.

I couldn’t help Cara become more comfortable with being a human. It was hard, most of the time. Maybe I faked being better at it. Maybe I just worried about different things.

But this, making her love how her body felt, that was something I could do, happily.

As for the rest, maybe being cared for, truly cared for, would help a little, in time.