I’d thought about marrying Grace when I watched her kiss Jaxy on the forehead as he lay asleep in his bed when she went in his room to tuck him in for the night.
I’d thought about marrying Grace when I discovered she hummed 80s music to herself when she does the dishes.
I’d thought about marrying Grace one night when we sat on the couch and she laughed at a stupid joke I’d made and pushed her hand through her hair at the same time.
I’d thought about marrying Grace that afternoon when she brought me lunch.
I’d thought about marrying Grace in that very moment, with her eyes staring back at mine, uncertainty clouding them, and I wanted nothing more than to reassure her I wasn’t playing some hypothetical game. Grace, on paper, was perfect. But Grace, pulled apart, examined, identified, classified, quantified, and studied was whatever came after that. Something unnamed, because no one, aside from me, had taken the time with her. But I would.
My hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, and I kissed her. When she opened up for me, all the tension we’d built between us melted away. Our hands were both roaming wildly, her fingers threading through my hair, my hands gripping her waist, wanting nothing more than to feel her skin against mine.
Without much thought, I stood up, taking her with me, and carried her through the house all the way back to my bedroom, never taking my mouth away from hers. When I slowly laid her down on the bed, she seemed to blossom beneath me; arms above her head, legs open allowing me to rest between them, and eyes eagerly taking me in. She was just as engrossed in me as I was in her.
I wanted to tell her that I loved her, but I didn’t want her to feel as though I was saying it for the wrong reasons. But, God, I loved her. I loved her in ways I’d thought might never be possible again. I felt things for her, cared for her in a way that I’d thought might have died. There’d been times in the past three years where I’d questioned my capacity for love, my capability, wondering if I’d ever love someone that deeply again, so I was grateful to have Grace in my arms, to be given the chance to love—and feel loved—again.
She hadn’t said it, and neither had I, but I felt what I thought was love coming from her. I felt it in the way she kissed me, in the way her hands skimmed up my back, and in the way she looked at me with trust emblazoned in her eyes.
“I’d never do anything to hurt you.” My words were whispered against the skin of her neck as my hands skimmed up her torso under her shirt. She gasped, her back bending, bringing her chest closer. My thumbs brushed the skin just below her breasts and I felt her shudder. “It’s been a long time for me, Grace. I’m going to need you to say something. Let me know you’re all right.”
“I want this,” she said, arching her back further. “I want you, Devon.” Her hands smoothed up my arms and over my shoulders, pulling at my shirt. I leaned back to pull it off and watched as she slid her shirt up and over her head as well.
My mouth immediately went to the swell of her breast, my hand cupping the other over her bra. Slowly, pieces of clothing came off and we explored each other’s bodies. We were in no hurry and I took every opportunity to memorize and taste every part of her.
We were hot breaths, writhing bodies, and thumping heartbeats.
“Devon,” she rasped, slowly coming down from a high. “I don’t want anything between us.”
I stilled at her words, caught off guard. There were condoms just a few feet from us in my nightstand. I’d made a special trip to the drug store on my own to make the purchase, but hearing those words from her caused all the breath to leave my lungs. The idea that she would give me her body, trust me in that way, and leave nothing between us, it cracked something inside me open.
“Grace,” I said, just before kissing her, “are you sure?”
“I’m clean,” she said urgently. “Every test I’ve had since my marriage ended has been clear.” She bit her lip and brought her hand to my cheek. “I’ve never felt so connected to someone, and I don’t want anything between us. Ever.”
“I’ve only been with one person that way.”
“I trust you,” she said as her thumb stroked my cheek.
“I trust you too.” My body was at its breaking point and wanted to find that high with her. “I want it too, Grace. I want to feel all of you, more than anything, but you have to know I didn’t anticipate this. I wasn’t expecting it at all.”
“I know. I wasn’t either. But being with you, here, in your arms, with your skin against mine, putting a barrier between us would feel wrong. And I want to feel everything.” She said the words as her body moved closer, tilting toward me.