Stinger (A Sign of Love Novel)

After dessert, we got in the hot tub and she climbed on top of me again and a combination of wine and naked Grace had me drunk in more ways than one.

We fell into bed, a wet mess of tangled limbs. She climbed on top of me and I lost myself in her as she rode me, her head thrown back, her breasts in my face as I sucked and licked them, the sounds she made my undoing. I thrust myself up into her tight heat and came so hard I thought I might pass out.

After I got rid of the condom I had somehow remembered to put on, I pulled her body into mine and felt her smile against my chest, nuzzling into me again. I noted that she was breathing slowly against me as I drifted into the world of dreams.

**********

"Carson, wake up, baby, you're dreaming," I heard whispered.

I shot up in bed. "Wha'?" I breathed out, looking around, trying to orient myself.

"You were dreaming," Grace said again, urging me back down to the pillow.

I sank back down and ran my hand over my damp hair. I had been having that damn dream again.

"What was it about?" Grace whispered, pressing into my side and laying her cheek on my chest.

I sighed. "My mom… then Ara. I've been having it a lot lately. I'm not sure why."

"Tell me," she said, pressing her lips to my chest and then bringing her hands up so that her chin was propped up on them.

I could just make her out in the darkness, those eyes that I knew were clear blue in the sunlight, deep, fathomless pools in the dark room.

But I felt her warmth against me, I breathed in her singular scent, and I heard the concern in her voice and it comforted me, made me want to share the pain that came to me in the darkness of the night.

I told her about the dream, about sneaking out of the back room, about watching my mom "perform," about her suddenly turning into Ara.

She kissed my chest again, breathing deeply against my skin before she came up again and squeezed me. "Both were traumas for you, baby," she said softly.

"Yeah," I said. I knew she was right. I knew that that was the reason I combined them in my mind.

We were both silent for a minute. Just telling her about my dream and having her comfort me felt like a weight lifted off of my heart. I let it soak in, bringing me peace, contentment.

"It's part of the reason I haven't been with anyone since you," I said quietly.

Her head lifted. "What do you mean?" she asked.

I paused. "When I came home from Vegas, I looked at everything differently. I had never experienced sex as something that wasn't just physical, but emotional. It changed everything for me."

She squeezed me again gently. I could tell that she was waiting for me to go on.

"It's like, with my mom, I felt this fierce protectiveness, but I was helpless. And the part that I never could get my mind around was that she put herself in those situations. But then she came home and she was just… broken. Every fucking time. She did what she did at the expense of her own soul. I'm not saying it's like that for everyone. But for her, it was. I could see it and I couldn't do fuck about it. It hurt. And I was just a kid, I didn't get it. And so later, I don't know, maybe I went into it myself as some way of gaining some kind of control over something that I had had no control over in the past. At the time, I told myself that it didn't matter, that it was just something that made me some easy money, but deep down, I think I knew that was a lie. I don't know. I've thought a lot about it, and I'm no psychologist, but it felt like something that deserved some of my head space."

I sighed, gathering more of my thoughts. "Anyway, after you, I couldn't lie to myself about it anymore. And I realized that I didn't want to go back to the way I had been. The nameless hook-ups, the one-night stands. It wasn't even a choice, it just wasn't possible." I was quiet for a minute remembering silently the very first time I realized that for sure. The night I had gone to see Grace in D.C. and thought I saw her with her boyfriend, I had gone out to a bar and a woman started hitting on me. It would have been easy enough to go home with her. But I wasn't interested. Even in a fucked up emotional state, I simply hadn't been interested–not in random sex anyway. I let the shitty feeling of that night wash away. Grace was here in my arms now.

I continued, "Anyway, then I shipped off and spent a couple years in caves in the desert…" I laughed a small laugh.

Grace smiled against my skin and rubbed her nose against me, kissing me again, showing her support without saying a word.

"And then what happened with Ara… in some ways, it brought up those feelings in me again. It's so hard to explain."

"You're doing a really good job," she whispered. "I understand."

And were there two words in the English language more beautiful, more comforting, than those two? In that moment, I knew for sure the answer was no.

"Have you talked to your mom recently?" she asked quietly.