Love's Forbidden Flower (12 page)

A tad is not an accurate description. He looks downright afflicted. The Christopher I've come to know and love is usually very happy and comfortable, albeit a little daft.

Wait.
The Christopher I've come to know and
love
?

The notion gets brushed aside in lieu of the issue at hand. “Hey, are you okay? You know that you can talk to me about anything, right?” The genuineness of my words surprises me as suddenly I see how much he's come to mean to me. Am I all right with this?

“Can I? Can I really? Because that is kind of what I want to talk about. I feel like a clot with no idea where to start.”

“Whatever it is, just say it.”

He catches a little air before knocking me on the floor with his confession. “Lilyanna, I’m starting to develop some pretty strong feelings for you, but I’m rather confused. Most of the time it seems you feel the same, yet others you're so distant it’s as if you're pushing me away. I just—Lilyanna, I really think I've fallen in love with you, and I need to know how you feel, if you even know.”

Oh, dear God! My eyes must be like saucers. Inwardly I'm cringing at the familiarity of his words. He sounds like me with Donovan. But he's actually vocalizing his feelings. Why did I never lay the cards on the table with Donovan? Words are a mighty instrument. Is this why Donovan muted me? Why if I tried to talk to him rationally he'd flip in the other direction?

“Lilyanna? Are you all right?”

My head snaps back into the beckoning moment. “Did you just say you love me?”

“I think I do. I’m not sure. Well, I know I love you. But I’m trying to figure out if I'm
in
love with you. I’ve never been in love before. I feel us moving closer, and I just want to stop for a second and figure out what we're really feeling before we go down a path we may not be ready for.”

As I absorb Christopher's words, the truth becomes apparent. Somewhere down the line we became inseparable. We don't just go out on dates and make out; we actually spend quality time together—a lot of it. We cling to each other and longingly stare into each other’s eyes. We've shared how we feel about pretty much everything but each other. We've been kissing more and more passionately, yet he's barely attempted second base. But just because we haven't gotten very physical doesn't mean we haven't become emotionally attached. Would he even understand the second base analogy? They don't have baseball in England. They have cricket. Are there bases in cricket?

“Lilyanna, I’m sorry. I obviously shouldn't have started this conversation. I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything, but when you're ready I want to be ready.”

Without warning my moment of truth unconsciously burst forth like water from a broken fire hydrant and floods me.

“I started falling in love once, and I got very, very hurt. He and I—well, things never got very far, but he devastated me. I had barely recovered when I met you. I’m scared, Christopher. I'm really, really scared, because I'm falling in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me.”

My lips stifle in fear of giving away too much information. Christopher doesn’t need to know I’m still in love with the mystery man, just that I'm falling for him. It rips me apart that Christopher may never have me completely to himself.

Solace is achieved when Christopher shows no hesitation in sharing his feelings. “I want to spend every possible moment with you in any way you'll allow. I want to take you on dates, watch the telly with you, listen to music and kiss you over and over until we know how we feel and decide what to do next.”

Christopher’s openness is a welcome contrast to Donovan's shadowed emotions, and it's sweeping me off of my feet. His honesty draws me in as I close my eyes to savor the experience. “That sounds perfect to me,” I say while moistening my lips. “I want to be closer to you now more than ever. Do they have bases in cricket?”

He returns to his normal demeanor as his skull dances with his words like a bobblehead. “You want to play cricket? That's one I didn't expect.”

“Let me rephrase. Do you know how to play baseball?”

He looks at me blankly.

“Do you know what the expression, ‘Getting to second base’ means?”

He’s clueless as to where I am going with this.

“Never mind. Just kiss me
—
a lot—and let me show you. But Christopher, once you figure it out, don’t get any ideas about getting to third.”

“You Yanks are a strange lot. Why can’t you just speak English?”

“Shhh.” My kisses of passion summon him onto me, and I find myself taking his hand and placing it over my pounding heart. He raises his gaze to look deeply into my eyes that are still affected by my revelations. My hand guides him to the pearly top button of my rose-hued blouse. He hesitates before taking over, kisses me, and goes to the next button. Again he pauses and kisses before continuing, as if seeking permission for each advance. Upon reaching the hindmost button he caresses the contours of my face before sweeping me up to free me from the garment and tenderly kissing down my neck, following the trail the buttons last held.

My spine curves, suggesting he continue discovering me. He toys with the clasp of my bra, as if expecting resistance. After he languidly removes it, I pull him back down and writhe slightly under him, placing myself in a prime position to feel his excitement. Shuttering a tender exhale, his downward kisses resume until he nuzzles my bosom and slides his hand over my breast, kissing it in admiration. “Second base,” I whisper.

His gaze reflects both an impish grin and a respectful look acknowledging this is a far as he has permission to go. Putting his head back down on my chest, he resumes his reverence.

“I’ve got to learn more about American Baseball.”

Christopher finds my antics to be adorable, yet somewhat daft. He's of the strong opinion his mother wouldn’t care if I burst through the front door in lingerie boldly announcing that I'm about to send her son's brains to the moon. Apparently she has rather liberal morals sexually and expects the same of her five sons. However, modesty has the best of me. Besides, since he moved the chest that holds the gardening supplies under it, crawling in his window has become too enticing to pass up.

The more I witness Christopher in even mundane activities, the deeper I'm falling. My emotional and sexual desires for him are driving me a little crazy, and the madness is leading to things getting progressively hotter. But right now the heat has dissipated. Christopher’s hands seem to be all over me, and not very coordinated about it. Suddenly he stops floundering and pulls away, somewhat on edge. “You know, when we finally get to whatever base that last one is—”

“You mean, shagging?” I boast brightly, toying with his distress.

“Yes luv, the old slap and tickle. Look Lilyanna, I'm trying to do the right thing here. When we do get to that point, you know that with me being so inexperienced things are not exactly going to be perfect, right? There's not much I can control about meself, but I'm going to try. Anyway, I want you to be comfortable guiding me to all of the right places and into doing the right things so that I can take care of you. It will be your first time, right?” he asks, turning his attention to the floor.

“Yes.” How is this a big deal?

“I just want be sure that your first time is better than mine was.”

His cringe reveals fear that I'll soon bash his head in as he tries to answers questions before they can form in my mouth.

“It was a huge mistake. Before I left home I'd been sort of dating someone, and she wanted to give me a ‘going away present.’ Oh, it was fine during but after I felt horrible. It was all very cheap and common, and I left the next day feeling even more gutted because of it. I still feel I was disrespectful to her even though she was the instigator. I don’t want to do that to you.”

Truly I'm ignorant to the life that surrounds me. I've been so wrapped up in my own past that Christopher's had never occurred to me. Facing that he also had a life before me brings on jealousy and reinforces my previous revelation that I'm falling in love with him—not just jumping into bed to forget and move on. Somewhere this all became real.

New defenses spring up to disallow what transpired in my life before from affecting what Christopher and I share. It's time to mute the whispers of my past.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I haven’t been able to figure out how,” Christopher continues.

My body urges him downward to lie with me as I surrender into his beautiful azure puppy eyes. “Now I know why I'm falling in love with you. You really are a very sensitive person. You are loving, caring, and all the wonderful things that are essential in my life. What I need most is honesty and you are so good about giving me that. Please continue to be honest with me no matter what it is about and even if you think it might hurt me. If you really want to take care of me you'll do yourself a favor and release your past.”

His mien shows he is unknowing of how to proceed. Mercifully, I save us from our miseries with a grin of mischief. “I have a wonderful idea. Let’s start finding all those little places on me, so that when the time comes, you know exactly where to go.”

Christopher's expression becomes a mix of wide-eyed excitement and bewildered anxiety as I toy with his hand and suckle his fingers. I love how it changes to one of delighted surprise as I touch my lips to his while unfastening my jeans, just before sliding his hand into my pants for him to feel the glorious and creamy effect he has on me. My breath flutters at his touch, “Third base.”

“There are only four, right?”

“Yes.”

“Thank God.”

I break the silence with words that slide out effortlessly, “Christopher, I love you.”

“Lilyanna, are you saying what I hope you are saying?”

“I’m in love with you Christopher. I'm certain of it.” My eyes cannot unlock from his. It brings about a feeling of security.

“I’m in love with you too. I actually knew it a few days ago but feared you weren’t ready to hear it.”

There's something different about him—something making him stronger and more self-assured.

“Christopher, I'm ready for that next step.”

“Are you going to give me another analogy about baseball that I can't understand?” he softly quips.

“No. I want you to make love to me.”

“Lilyanna, are you absolutely sure that you're ready for this? That you're ready for me?” He chokes on his words. Clearly he wasn’t expectant of a confession of true love and my surrender to him was more than he hoped for.

“Yes. Do you really love me?”

“Truly I do.”

Our passion knows no resistance, no inhibitions, no fear, and no haste. I relinquish every bit of my trust and being to Christopher, knowing he's sure to respect me. At the whisper of his touch, our garments seem to melt into the ether. As my legs part and we become one, I await the infamous pain that shocks some, but all that matters is the beauty of him merging with me.

He efforts to control himself and often diminishes his actions to stare into my eyes so as not to move too rapidly. His caresses are filled with so much tenderness that they are almost painful and tear at the depths of my heart. As the climax of his body washes over him, I feel myself radiate, almost as if I need no more than to feel his afterglow. But he takes one last moment to admire my beauty before focusing all of his attention on my obtaining complete pleasure, determined to make me feel all the wonderful things I desire.