Love Delayed

“Are you marinating that chicken in the fridge?” Stenton’s head top with little curls peeked in the door of the bedroom. I turned to him. “It’s the last thing in there. I can prepare the marinade the way you showed me and soak it.”


His inquisitive gaze soothed my gut feeling of their being an issue between us. I’d hoped he was coming out of whatever was bugging him earlier and we could enjoy the last few hours in paradise with our usual chemistry.

“Yeah, knock yourself out. I trust your measurements.” I quickly turned my back to him to be sure he saw my crossed fingers behind me. I heard his laughter as he left for the kitchen.

I went for a swim and bummed around by the pool. I was so happy to experience the view, and sad to be leaving the next day. Stenton was around, but still not back to himself. He practically cooked alone and didn’t speak much at all during dinner. We found ourselves turning down for bed together and when I closed my eyes to doze off, I called myself a wimp for wanting to cry. I didn’t though; I drifted off with a head full of questions.

Sometime later, I was being pulled while asleep. I felt my pajama slip shifting underneath me. I opened my eyes to the lucent nightlights pushing through the thin curtains covering the bed. I also felt and smelled him. I could feel the force of his breath hitting me. Then I felt his warm lips touching mine, not kissing me; just hovering over, parted. My body immediately responded, wanting to taste him.

As he lifted my gown, he whispered, “I’m not ready.”

I didn’t know what he meant and was still fighting sleep against abrupt arousal, so I couldn’t ask for clarity. However, I was reminded of his parting words to me in Philly. Stenton pulled my slip over my head, leaving me completely naked. Then his lips pressed into mine and he swallowed my face whole. That brought me to full consciousness. My hands grabbed the sheet on either side of me. I guess I wasn’t used to this functionality of them; more often than not, when we made love in bed, I was restrained. His tongue moved vehemently through my mouth, not really needing my participation.

He pulled away from my face and from the rays of the pool lights outside the suite, I could see his eyes opening. “I’m not ready to leave. I want to stay here…alone with you. Forever,” he murmured while reaching his long arm over to the nightstand. I heard the rustling of the aluminum condom package then I felt his hands below, between us. “Why can’t this euphoria last forever?”

I felt him inside me.

“Touch me, Zo,” he drug lazily in my ear.

My hands flew to his head and I combed my fingers through the fine curls of hair. My hips pushed into his pelvis, giving him all I had, hoping it would end his sullenness from earlier. He’d retreated for nearly twenty-four hours and I missed him terribly. I could deal with a little quietness, but not rejection from Stenton. I didn’t fully encompass his communication, but each thrust was delivered with force, each kiss landed with reverence, and each word he uttered in my ear was carried with passion. We made love until I tapped out and Stenton came not too far behind me. Almost immediately after, he carried me to the bathroom to shower.

The next day, as we were on the plane and just had taken off, Stenton was brooding again. He had been from the time he awakened. I didn’t get it. I thought we’d gotten past this. I’d started to wonder if this was how sex partners behaved. I had no experience. Whatever it was, it didn’t feel good at all. Where was my friend? We’d just shared an incredible week in paradise and it ended sourly.

Our plush leather seats faced each other. From across the small table, I observed Stenton’s fixation out the window. My heart ripped each time I stole a glance in his direction. Rob and Barry sat in a set of seats behind us, busy with their own affairs.

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