Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set (75 page)

“Truly Madly Deeply” and “I Knew I Loved You,” both by Savage Garden. I listen to the words of those two songs and the tears fall unchecked down my cheeks. If they aren’t a declaration of love, I don’t know what is!
Oh Joshua!

I scroll to the last song on the playlist. “More Than Words” by Extreme. When I hit play, a sweet acoustic guitar washes over me like a slow wave, and the beautiful voices envelop me in warmth. But the words! They are so sweet and honest. And so Josh. He’s told me why the words ‘I love you’ scare him so much and why he’s so reluctant to say them. But with this song – with this entire playlist – he has found a way to tell me exactly how he feels. And to let me know that, even though he can’t say those words right now, he still feels the emotions behind them, and he
shows me,
every single minute of each day that he loves me, by his actions.

I am speechless. I am floored. And I am completely emotional, sitting in a puddle of tears as I listen to the playlist over and over and over again. I wondered at The Slammer if music was the key to understanding Josh’s feelings and now I have my answer. Expressing his emotions … saying what’s in his heart … that’s sometimes difficult for him to do with me. Maybe it’s because he’s never been in a relationship before; maybe it’s because of his parents’ horrifying relationship. Or maybe it’s a little of both but, whatever the reason, it’s a fact. But now he’s found a way to communicate with me. To open his heart to me and let the music do the talking for him.

Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I get up from the couch and go into the bedroom. I rummage through my duffle bag and find the docking station for my iPod, and carry it out to the living room with me. Scooting the glass picture frames to the side a bit, I set the docking station up on top of the new bookshelf I bought yesterday and plug the iPod into it, and turn up the volume. Then I set the playlist on repeat, and go about the task of finishing up dinner. I know that Josh will be home any minute and I can’t wait to tell him how much the playlist means to me.

Turning the oven off, I take the roasted chicken out and then carefully remove it from the roasting pan and put it on the new platter I bought yesterday. Then I take great care as I surround it with the perfectly roasted vegetables, making a lovely presentation. It smells as delicious as it looks; I hope Josh likes it. I miss being in my kitchen at my apartment. It would be great to have my state-of-the art oven with its plate warmer that I love so much. But the thought of being back there by myself right now, waiting for Josh to get home … I know that I couldn’t do it. I would be a frightened, skittish mess by now. Being here is so much better.

I hear keys in the door behind me and I know that Josh is home. My heart somersaults into my stomach! I quickly place the platter back into the oven to keep it warm until he’s had time to get out of his work clothes and get ready for dinner. Then I rush to the door just as he steps through it, and I tearfully throw myself into his arms. The surprised look in his eyes is priceless as I shower him with quick, sloppy kisses all over his much too handsome face, and he is laughing at me with a puzzled smile.

“Samantha! What are you doing?” he says, finally grabbing hold of my arms and pulling gently away from me. And I see the concern register in his eyes when he realizes that I’m crying. “Sam? Baby what happened? What’s wrong?”

He caresses my face as he studies me, and I take an unsteady breath as I look at him. “I listened to the playlist,” I say softly, realizing that it’s still playing on repeat in the background. “I have listened to it over and over again, and I love it, Josh! I love every single song. And I get it; I’m listening closely,” I say tearfully. “I may not fully understand why you can’t say those words to me … but it’s okay. Because you’ve just told me everything that’s inside your heart, and I love you too!”

In an instant, his hands are in my hair and his mouth is on mine and he’s kissing me deeply. Passionately. As if he’s pouring the depths of his feelings for me into this one kiss, and my body immediately responds to him. My hands move of their own accord, reaching up to help remove his jacket. It falls to the floor as my fingers move on to the buttons of his shirt and he pulls off his shoulder holster, dropping it to the floor as his arms close tightly around my waist, pulling me to him, before his hands begin to roam over my backside.

He shrugs out of his shirt, pulling the tails of it out of his pants in a huff as he reaches for me. He lifts me into his arms and my legs close around his waist as my fingers tangle in his hair and he walks me slowly over to the couch. He places me gently down on the seat of it as his hands reach for the hem of my tank top, pulling it slowly up and over my head, revealing my bra-less breasts as my hands fly to the clasp of his jeans.

He kisses me deeply once more, his tongue probing and insistent as we descend slowly down onto the couch. His lips move over the sensitive skin of my neck as he works to remove my sweatpants, and I can feel his hand flowing slowly back up the length of my leg, from my calf up to my thigh and on to my hairless mound. He kisses me passionately as he gently slips a finger inside me and I moan into his mouth as my fingernails glide delicately over his back. He stands abruptly and removes his jeans and his briefs, and rejoins me on the couch. And as Savage Garden serenades us, he enters me slowly, his eyes locked onto mine.

He makes love to me slowly and sweetly, our bodies writhing and humming as our passion builds. And as the song comes to an end, we skyrocket together, exploding magnificently as we hold on to one another tightly and I call out his name. We cling to each other as we struggle to catch our breath, drifting endlessly back down to earth as our hearts slow down.

“I have been waiting all my life for you, baby,” he whispers softly, echoing the words of the song as his lips lightly graze my ear. And the tears come without warning, trailing silently down my cheeks. I tighten my arms around him and hold him close to me.

“I love you too, Josh,” I whisper, and he raises up, looking deeply into my eyes.

“Sam.” He caresses my face, wiping away my tears in the process. Then he kisses me tenderly for a moment. Softly, he runs his nose down the length of mine, and we get lost in each other’s eyes for several seconds. And I have never felt so loved and cherished in my life.

We lay like this as we listen to Extreme, our bodies still connected as one, and we study one another’s eyes and explore each other’s faces with timid fingertips. It is the most intimate moment we’ve ever shared and it is beyond moving. I feel as though he’s touched my soul. I love him so deeply. And now I know that he loves me too.

“I am so in love with you, Joshua,” I whisper honestly, looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

“Oh, Sam,” he replies softly, caressing my face once more. He doesn’t seem the least bit uncomfortable with my words now, even though he still can’t repeat them. But he appears affected by them, as if he appreciates what they mean to me. He kisses me deeply once more, and his hands begin to roam over my skin. And to my utter shock, I can feel his erection growing inside of me.
Holy cow! Is that even possible?
Apparently it is, and he begins to move as he kisses me, thrusting deeply, and I begin to moan.

He makes love to me again and again, and all the while the playlist is running in the background, providing the romantic soundtrack for this most perfect moment. This moment that will be etched on my heart forever. I have no idea how much time passes; I’m much too busy making love to my sweet, beautiful man to care. When I am lying spent and satisfied in his arms, my head resting on his chest as his fingers run rhythmically over my back, I suddenly remember our dinner. I gasp as I jump with a start, and Josh looks at me with a puzzled frown.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Dinner is going to be ruined! I bet the chicken is dry as a bone by now,” I say with dismay as I struggle to get up. But he refuses to release his hold on me, and he gently pulls me back down to him.

“It’s all right, baby. Don’t worry about it,” he smiles at me. “Stay here with me for a while.”

“But aren’t you hungry?” I ask as I stop struggling against him, and he chuckles slightly at me.

“Yes. I am hungry,” he says softly. “But I just don’t want to let go of you yet.”

God, he says the sweetest things sometimes! I smile as I settle back down on top of him, resting my head on his chest and snuggling in close, and he tightens his arms around me, burying his nose in my hair and inhaling deeply. He kisses the top of my head and we lay this way for a while longer with the new throw I bought yesterday draped over our naked bodies.

Finally, I hear his stomach begin to growl and it makes me giggle. I kiss his chest and raise up to look at him, and he’s smiling at me. “Oh, okay,” he says with a playful roll of his eyes, “I guess we can eat now.” He leans up and kisses me swiftly before letting me go, and we get up then and begin to put ourselves back together. I quickly slip into his gray dress shirt and race to turn off the iPod. Then I hurry off to rescue my chicken as Josh gathers up the rest of our discarded clothing and his gun and heads into the bedroom.

I wash my hands at the kitchen sink and, as I’m taking the chicken out of the oven I glance at the clock and realize that over two hours have flown by while we were making love on the couch. It’s now after eight in the evening! Time flies when you’re professing your love through music.

I carry the platter to the table and by the time I grab our plates and two Coronas with lime, Josh is seated and waiting. He’s wearing his briefs and a plain white t-shirt, and he looks as yummy as our dinner.

“This looks great, Sam,” he says, taking up a fork and the carving knife. I hold my breath as he cuts into the roasted chicken, fearful it will be dry as the Sahara dessert. But to my delight, it still appears juicy and perfect. We chat about the day as we eat and he explains the ins and outs of the new case he and Dave Conner are working on. I tell him all about giving my first few museum tours today, and he smiles as he watches me.

“I knew you’d do great, baby,” he says, taking a swig of his beer, and I bite my lower lip anxiously. “So what’s the next step on your gallery show?” he asks, out of the blue, taking me by surprise. “You haven’t mentioned it in a couple days.”

“Well, next, I need to get Lola some images of all of my nudes,” I say timidly, thinking about all that will entail. “Or get her to my studio at the apartment.” My voice sounds small and fearful to my ears and I sigh tiredly. I don’t want to go back there, but I know that I really have no choice. All of my artwork is there. I will need to find another place to store it all, and to separate out the nudes for the show. I’ll have to spend at least an afternoon there, whether I want to or not.

Josh reaches out and takes my hand, looking at me as if he’s reading my mind. “You decide where you want to store your artwork and we’ll get it moved, Sam. You won’t ever have to go back there by yourself if you don’t want to, baby. Don’t even worry about that, okay?”

He is so sincere, I can’t help but smile at him and he lets go of my hand and reaches up to caress my face. Then he leans in and kisses my lips gently. I move to get up and clear the table then and he starts to help me.

“It’s all right, I’ll get it,” I say softly.

“I don’t mind helping.”

I tilt my head and smile at him. “I know you don’t mind helping, and I appreciate it. But I’ll get it. You’ve been working all day. Go relax,” I say, leaning down to kiss him tenderly. He looks at me in surprise I think, and I turn and get to work.

He disappears while I clean the kitchen and when I’m finished, I find him in his exercise room. His white t-shirt has been discarded to the floor and the TV is on and tuned to CNN. He is listening to the national news as he is doing what looks like bench pressing, only he’s using two 60 pound dumbbells, one in each hand. His body is magnificent and I become transfixed on the movement of the muscles of his chest and arms as he works. Inspiration hits me and I go quickly into the bedroom and grab my sketchbook and a few graphite pencils. Returning to the exercise room, I quickly perch on a stool near the bench and get to work myself. I think I see a small, indulgent grin on Josh’s face as he watches me out of the corner of his eye, but I’m too preoccupied to comment.

I begin to draw furiously, sketching Josh as he works out. And I can’t help but admire his long, lean muscles while I attempt to capture the beauty of them. He says nothing as we work and he moves from one exercise to another. I watch as he puts down his weights and stands, and then he adjusts the bench into an inclined, seated position. He picks up the weights again and sits, raising the dumbbells high above his head and bringing them down to a ninety degree angle, in a shoulder press.

He concentrates on his workout as I concentrate on his form, and soon I have sketch after sketch of his beautiful body in motion. After a long workout, he sets down his weights and stands up. I think he’s finished but, to my delight, he begins to stretch the muscles of his chest and arms. He stands with his feet shoulder length apart and raises both arms so that his body forms a T with his palms facing forward. Then he begins to move his arms backward as far as he can while keeping them perfectly straight.

I sketch furiously again, watching his form closely as I work. Placing his hands behind his head, he executes a similar movement, stretching out the muscles of his chest once more. Then he moves to the wall behind him and faces it. He places the whole of his right arm against the wall at shoulder height, palm flat against it, and then he slowly turns his entire body away from the wall while keeping his arm in place. Adjusting the angle of his arm against the wall, he continues to stretch it thoroughly. He repeats this sequence with his left arm, holding each stretch for a good 10 seconds before moving on to another position and I am sketching voraciously the whole time.

When he is finally finished with his cool down, he turns to me with a sexy little smile on his face. He is panting slightly as he studies me, and I suddenly feel very shy and exposed.