The Truth About Love

Chapter One

              I remember everything.

The first night we met, I vividly recall the way the moonlight shone on his ginger head.  He wore his hair in a Caesar cut.  See, I remember that too.  The front was spiked up.  Most of my time was spent talking to him for hours about everything and nothing while I wondered what color his eyes were.  One moment I’d think they were turquoise, rimmed in a deeper blue.  The next minute they seemed green, the outside a deep sea green.  All I knew for sure was how badly I could get lost in them. 

Shane wore his black t-shirt tight across his chest, his pecs on display, his biceps flexing periodically as he gestured and spoke.  I had him mostly figured out in minutes.  He had me biting my cheek to keep from laughing at the posturing.  His timing was perfect because I had no desire to get into a relationship.  What I really enjoyed was all the laughing we did together.  He was really funny, even if unintentionally. 

The last guy I’d dated had been one of those yuppy types.  He loved his high-end restaurants, his high tech toys, and living the good life, even if some of it was slightly beyond his means.  He bought me Tiffany’s, mostly as I’m Sorry gifts.  There were frequent flowers and trips.  It all felt so wholly insincere.  Is it any wonder I found Shane’s openness refreshing? 

In him, I had a man who could never lie to me, even if he tried.  All the truth telling was even more intoxicating than the margaritas he poured me during these warm spring nights.  Then one evening it felt too balmy to stay outside. 

“Wanna come in and watch a movie,” he asked, drawing me away from all the neighbors hanging out across the street from his house. 

Tilting my head, I considered his invitation.  “Maybe.  Whatcha wanna watch?”  For some reason, I pretended the movie actually mattered.

Smiling, he held out his hand.  “We can pick something together.”

In an instant, I had reached out and watched, hypnotized as our fingers laced and our palms met.  For some reason, everything seemed so important with him, like he would always matter.  So I focused on feeling, imprinting it all in my mind.  His hand was slightly rough, a product of working in the construction industry.  As he squeezed, I was suddenly aware of how big and strong his fingers felt.

We were nearly across the road when Evan, the neighbor whose driveway we’d left, called after us.  “You two have fun!”  He snickered and several of the other neighbors chuckled in response. 

Shane and I exchanged looks before he spoke.  “Do you care?”

Shaking my head, I announced, “I literally don’t have any fucks to give.”

Then he opened his front door, motioned for me to enter, and followed, shutting it behind us.  Once inside, we did a shot of Jager and then sat on the couch to pick a movie. 

Since I saw the indentation on the cushion nearest to the end table, I guessed it was his spot and sat curled up on the middle one while he fiddled with the remote. 

“Have you ever seen Ultra Violet?” he asked as he pulled a movie out of the entertainment center.

“Nope.”  I shook my head while trying to act like the confident chick I normally portrayed.  Still, it was challenging when anticipation had my heart pounding in my chest and my palms sweating like I was fourteen again. 

“Wanna see it?”  Shane squatted beside the DVD player and gave me a half smile, the cocky bastard.

“Sure.”  I shrugged.  After all, I didn’t expect I’d remember much of the movie anyway.  Even then, part of me hoped we’d never get to a place in our time together where we’d be more interested in anything more than each other.

The movie loaded, he picked up the remote and walked back to his seat.  “Thanks for saving my spot,” he murmured as he sank down beside me. 

Ultra Violet began playing and though I claim to remember everything, I have no idea what it was about.  What I do remember is how he soon had an arm around my waist and pulled me close.   By thirty minutes in, I recall how his head had dropped to my shoulder.  Soon after, his other hand had come around and he had gradually moved to cup my breast through the shirt, graze it ever so gently with his thumb until my nipple stood erect, demanding attention.

I’ll never forget the sound of his breath catching each time he prepared to make a move.  If he worried I’d stop him, he shouldn’t have.  Despite my calm exterior, inside my stomach jumped each time he touched me.  I wanted more.  So much more. 

We were both startled when the credits rolled.  Reluctantly, he stood, turned off the movie, and faced me.  “What now?”

It seemed obvious, but I wouldn’t be the one making the suggestion.  “Let’s do another shot.”  Liquid courage had never failed me. 

We strutted to the kitchen.  I lined up the glasses while he went for the freezer.  He poured like a seasoned professional.  “I used to bartend,” he explained.

I nodded, then lifted my glass.  “What shall we toast?”

“Health and happiness?”  He suggested.

Scrunching up my face, I stuck out my tongue.  “Nah.”  Then I smirked.  “How about to making memories?”

He beamed.  “I like that.”  He clinked our shot glasses, making mine slosh over the side and dribbled down my wrist onto my forearm. 

I slammed back my shot and when I finished, he’d done the same and then captured my arm.  Slowly, he pried the glass from my hand.  Then opening my palm, he licked down the trail of alcohol while his eyes never left mine.  I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing then.  The feel of his tongue as he scraped against my skin, and the smoldering look in his eyes had me frozen in place, afraid to speak and ruin the moment.

Chuckling, he released me and walked to open the back sliding glass door.  As he stepped down into the screened porch, he explained, “I need a cigarette.  You?”

Shaking my head, I responded.  “Nope.  I’ve never smoked.”

Shane seemed taken aback.  “Really?  I don’t think I know anyone who doesn’t smoke.”

“Well now you do.”  I folded my arms across my chest.  It seemed like the moment would be lost.  A kiss was out of the question.  It’d be like licking an ashtray. 

He must’ve figured it out because after one long drag, he carefully put it out and left it in the ashtray for later.  “Now what?”  His voice sounded deep and seductive as he walked toward the open door.

I stood there, one arm on the wall, one on the handle, watching, waiting.  Soon we were nose to nose, thanks to the elevation of the house.  His arms slid neatly around my waist as he stared at me.

It felt like a game of chicken and I wasn’t about to flinch.  The blood rushed through me, making me throb in unexpected places.  Slowly, I lowered my lids, savoring our closeness, as he leaned in and matched his lips to mine.

Pulling me closer, I was soon pressed against the hard plains of his chest.  Instantly, my arms shot around him, one fist knotted in his hair, the other gripping the back of his neck.  We kissed longer than anticipated, without any tongue.  I never tasted the cigarette which made me suspect he held his breath.  All these little things made him so much more attractive to me.

Finally, he broke contact.  “What are we doing?”  He seemed surprised, as if he hadn’t initiated every damn bit of our night.

“Whatever we want.”  I grinned.  “I’m a grown ass woman.  You’re a grown ass man.”

“Fuck yeah.”  He nodded.  Then he burst into the house like a linebacker, and pulled the door closed behind him.  There was a gleam in his eyes as he picked me up and carried me down the hall toward his bedroom. 

If he was hoping I’d protest, he was going to be sorely disappointed.  I wanted this.  I needed this.  After an hour or more of foreplay on the couch, I had to finish this. 

Soon we were in his room.  He’d shut and locked the door after dropping me on the bed.  “Roommates,” he reminded me as he walked toward me while taking his shirt off.  I bit my lip as I noted he did it like a Calvin Klein model, not a common guy.  Yet he’d obviously performed this act often enough that it had become part of his persona instead of feeling rehearsed.  I allowed him his conceit, never calling him out. 

Moments later his pants were down too.  He stepped out of them and walked toward the dresser.  Turning on the lava lamp, he shut off the overhead light, instantly making me feel more comfortable.  I grinned. 

“I guessed right.”  He laughed.  “I figured you might be a ‘lights off’ kind of girl.”

“Oh, I am,” I agreed as he advanced toward me.  There was a look in his eye, which made me feel incredibly sexy.  There was no way to fake his desire. It oozed out of his pores, shot like flames out his eyeballs, and caused him to have an erection like I’d never seen before. 

It didn’t take him long before he had removed my shirt and started kissing his way down my neck.  After circling my belly button and making my uterus do back flips, Shane finally unbuttoned my shorts and dragged them past my panties.  Once completely off, his hands ran the length of my body, back up my sides, until they had slipped under my bra.  I have no idea how he managed.  I was mesmerized, under his spell.  Before I realized it, we were both naked on top of the blanket and despite being a bit shy, I quickly discovered I didn’t care. 

Before long, he had positioned himself between my thighs and pressed against my eager opening.  Wrapping his arms around my waist, he cupped my ass and changed the angle of my pelvis as he seamlessly slid inside me.  My eyes closed instantly.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” he urged.

Shaking my head, I struggled for words.  “Not sleep.”  I managed to whisper in stilted tongue.  “Feeling.”  His actions made me breathless.  My heart responded as if I’d run ten miles, galloping along.  I couldn’t get him deep enough, couldn’t manage to spread wide enough.  Being with him was unlike anything ever before.

Inside, Shane hit me perfectly.  He kissed and fondled and sucked all the right ways in all the best places.  My body felt as though it were on fire.  Maybe I was going to spontaneously combust.  The possibility didn’t even frighten me.

Finally, effortlessly, I was so close, I couldn’t stand it.  Without thinking, I moved my hips and telegraphed our next move.  He flipped onto his back, without ever leaving my aching vagina. 

“Open your eyes,” he begged.  “I need to see them.  I need to know I’m not hurting you.”

My lids flew up then.  “I can take it.  All of it.”

There was a distinct gleam in his now.  “Yeah?  You think so?”

I laughed.  This was a lot of shit talking for sex.  Despite a reasonable amount of experience, being with him was new to me and I loved it, the innuendoes, the flirting, the seduction, every bit of it.  My hips moved in time with his, our pelvises crushing together.  I’d feel this in the morning and remember with a smile. 

Inside, my orgasm was building.  It was a rare and beautiful thing, made even more rare and beautiful because it was our first time.  Placing a hand between us, I started to rub my clitoris to help the process along.

“Allow me,” he murmured against my neck, just before grazing the spot with his teeth.

“Uh huh.”  I moaned.  It wouldn’t be long, unless he ruined it.  For some reason I trusted him.  It paid off.  Moments later, I could feel my muscles contracting in waves around him.  He clearly felt it too.  As soon as I was done, he pulled out.  Before I could complain, he’d slid out from under my body and positioned himself behind me.  Involuntarily, I whimpered.  I wanted to feel him close, his skin against mine.

“You said you could take it.”  He reminded me.  Then he adjusted himself and slammed into me again and again. 

Once more, we found our rhythm.  I couldn’t get enough.  His hands gripped my waist, then one arm wrapped around it while the other knotted in my hair.  He pulled my head back and kissed my cheek.  Then his mouth found my shoulder.  He nipped at my skin, raked a hand down my back.  His actions had me ready once more.  A double orgasm for me was completely unheard of.  Still, I slid my hand under my pelvis and felt us together.  My hand closed around him, squeezing slightly as he moved in and out of me, savoring the feeling of his balls slapping against me, until they tightened up and I knew he was ready to explode.  When he did, I felt it, the way I grew wetter, the way my body once again gripped him in waves of passion, the way he pulsed inside me.

Exhausted, we fell on our sides, spooning and still connected.  I never wanted to let him go.  Ever.  In that moment, he wrapped his arms around me, effectively keeping me warm.  His fingers laced through mine.  Suddenly, I could see it, all of it, our future.  I saw those hands holding mine as we married.  I saw those hands holding our baby.  I saw us building this life together.  It was beautiful and amazing, even as it went against everything I planned.  With a smile on my face, I fell asleep.