Living Again
Sun, Sea and Sand, and a little B&G to warm the cold winter's day.
Rated - M Graphic Scenes
Disclaimer - I Own Nothing
Grace sat in silence, staring out of the window of the car, looking out at the scenery as they drove along, she thought how ironic it was, when he had said he wanted to take her on holiday after her her treatment was finished, she'd imagined a weekend on the coast, or a week in Spain at the most, never in a million years was she expecting two weeks in one of the most luxurious villas in Barbados. But this is Peter Boyd we're talking about, and he doesn't know how to do things by halves, so he did it, he booked them two weeks in a waterside villa in Barbados, one that came with a private beach exclusively attached to it, it also had a veranda that looked out over the sea for those warm nights with a glass of wine. It had other extras, such as the maid and chef service on call as and when they wanted it, the hire of a jeep for the duration and a huge selection of activities should they wish to do something other than sunbathe, but I think it was quite safe to say that they wouldn't be indulging in those activities.
It was dark when they finally arrived, it wasn't that late, but it was dark, he knew that the maid would have been in and made the beds for their arrival, so all they had to do was unpack.
Whilst he carried the luggage in from the car, Grace explored the inside of their holiday home, she opened the doors to the veranda and stepped outside, taking in the breath taking view. The sky was clear and the moon was reflecting beautifully on the sea, it was like something out of a brochure.
She heard the door shut, and could see him approaching. "This is beautiful Peter; it must have cost a fortune."
"Well you know what they say; you can't take it with you. I haven't taken a holiday in years, and I can't remember the last time you took one, plus I think you deserve it, you've been to hell and back with all the treatment." He walked up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, "I want you to have a complete rest for the next two weeks."
"Thank you."
He kissed her neck, "which room do you want?"
She looked at him intensely, "the same one as you."
"What?"
"I think it's about time we moved this relationship on a bit, don't you?"
"It's not necessary, I mean you don't have to, I didn't bring you on holiday to get you into bed, you said you wanted to take things slowly, and I'm happy with that."
"I know you're happy with it, all through my illness you have been there for me…"
"It doesn't mean you have to sleep with me."
"Let me finish, you have been my rock, you've supported me every step of the way, you've looked after me when I've needed it, more than I could have ever hoped for. You held my hand when it hurt, cuddled me when I was cold and couldn't sleep, mopped my brow and held a bowl for me when I was sick, and slowly but surely we've gone from being colleagues to friends, and then a little bit more than friends, we've had the occasional kiss and cuddle, and I think it's pretty inevitable where it's going, so why try and stop it."
"I don't want you to do anything because you think it's what I want, I mean it is what I want, but I don't want you to sleep with me because you feel grateful."
"It's not about gratitude, it's about how I feel, it's about wanting you as much as I hope you want me."
"There is no doubt about how much I want you." He raised his hand to her face and gently stroked her cheek, and she smiled at him in response.
"So which room are we going to have?"
"Well the master bedroom with en suite bathroom and view of the sea sounds good to me."
"Okay, the master bedroom it is."
They unpacked slowly, placing their toiletries next to each other's in the bathroom; deciding whose clothes went where, and who had what drawer, it was all new ground, and they seemed to move nervously around each other.
"What side of the bed do you sleep on?" He asked.
"I sleep alone, I'm not sure I have a side, I think I sleep in the middle. What about you, what side do you sleep on?"
"The side nearest the door."
"Are you just trying to convince me you're a gentleman?"
"What? Oh I see, no, I just like sleeping near the door."
"Well you have the side nearest the door then."
"Do you umm…..umm, do you, I um, I don't usually, what I'm trying to say is do you want, well I don't normally but I will if you want me to."
"Do I need a translation book for this conversation, or a bloody psychic?"
"What?"
"What is it you are trying to say Peter?"
"Um, well."
"Just spit it out man, for goodness sake."
"I don't usually wear anything in bed, but if you want me to wear something, I don't mind."
Grace smirked and tried not to laugh, "Is that it?"
"What do you mean is that it?"
"All that dithering and all you wanted to say was that you usually sleep in the buff."
"It's a big thing…"
"I think I'll be the judge of that!"
"Grace! You know what I mean, it's the first time we've shared a bed, other than me giving you the occasional cuddle on your hospital bed, it means a lot to me that you're comfortable and you don't feel embarrassed at all, so if you want me to wear something in bed I will, happily."
"Look I know it's awkward, which is why I'm trying to make light of it, it's easy for me, I always wear pyjamas. How about you wear some shorts and we'll see how we get on."
"You sure you're okay with that?"
"Yeah I'm fine with that." She said, she picked up her pyjamas and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She was in the bathroom for some time, and whilst she was in there, he went round and locked up, before returning to the bedroom and changing into some loose fitting shorts before getting into bed. She came out of the bathroom a short time later, and sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with anything and everything she could think of to delay getting into bed, eventually she had no choice, she climbed into bed next to him, and pulled the crisp white sheet up over herself, she had no idea why she felt so nervous, but she did. Boyd was sat up with his back against the head board, looking down at her as she lay on her side next to him.
"You okay?" He asked, noticing how worried she looked.
"Yeah I'm fine."
"You look terrified."
"I'm fine, honest."
"We don't have to, you know, not if you don't want to."
"Do you want to?"
"Is that a trick question? I'm a man Grace of course I want to, but I'm also happy to wait."
"I just, I…."
"Stop Grace okay, just stop for a minute, sit up, and talk to me, something is clearly worrying you about this, you can be honest with me, you don't need to do anything you are not happy or comfortable with, and you can tell me anything, say anything, it won't bother me, so just please be honest with me, please?"
Grace nodded her head and sat up in the bed, resting on her hand as she looked at him, "I'm worried about the physical side of things; I want to, I really do, but I'm worried."
"What worries you about it?" He said, his voice soft, his hand reaching up and tucking her hair behind her ear as he spoke.
Grace again hesitated before she spoke, "I'm not sure I can explain it."
"You can't explain, that must be a first. Just tell me Grace, whatever it is, just tell me."
"I feel old Peter, old and frail and a bit delicate, like I don't have the energy to turn over in bed, let alone roll around under the covers with you, and I'm worried that you will want more than I can give, more than I can..…"
This time he interrupted her with a kiss, a soft, gentle kiss, when he pulled away he looked deep in her eyes, "I'm not going to hurt you Grace, not physically or emotionally, is that what you think, that I'm going to hurt you?"
"I just think, oh god, I don't know what I think, I want this! I want you, but I guess I'm not….not exactly scared but apprehensive, nervous maybe, I know this sounds really clichéd and corny, but I just need you to go easy on me, I'm really not up to hanging from the chandeliers just yet." She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her.
"Whatever you want is what we'll do, okay? No pressure I promise." He leant forward and kissed her again, before resting his forehead against hers, "just trust me?"
"Okay." She replied, her voice soft, no more than a whisper.
He kissed her again, gently guiding her back down on to the bed, she laid on her back and he remained just above her, his hand resting gently on her stomach, on the outside of her pyjama top, he continued to kiss her, softly, but with enough passion to ignite something in both of them. He could feel her heart beating through her top, beating hard and fast, unsure if it was his actions or her nerves that were causing it to beat so fast. He moved his mouth along her jaw and down her neck, still slow and soft, resting all his weight on his arm, putting absolutely no pressure on her, he slowly moved the hand that was resting on her stomach, sliding it down to the bottom of her pyjama top and then beneath it. The moment his hand touched her skin he felt her recoil, and he immediately pulled away.
"No, it's not you, it's me, I mean I have really ticklish sides."
"I'll make a note of that information, may be very useful in the future." He replied with a smile.
Grace sat up and pressed her lips against his; taking hold of his hand and placing it back on her skin, trying to avoid jumping at his touch, she moved her mouth down from his mouth and nibbled gently along his jaw, enjoying the feel of his neatly trimmed goatee, it felt soft against her skin and she rubbed her face against it. She looked up at him to he has his eyes closed, and a look of ecstasy on his face, she continues to kiss and nibble his jaw and down his neck. Gently biting the crook of his neck before moving along and biting him again, he breathes in hard as she continues to bite and suck from his neck along to his shoulder. In return he moves his mouth to her earlobe, his lips suck on it gently, pulling it into his mouth, whilst the tip of his tongue flicks over it.
And so it continues, the soft and gentle exploration of each other, neither of them rushing, both content to take the slow approach to where they are heading, every now and again she will gasp or he will moan, as the other one makes a mental note of the action that caused such a response. He gradually undresses her, and even though she's only in her pyjamas, he still manages to make it slow and erotic, gently kissing each newly exposed area of skin.
With his arms around her, he sits her up, so she is propped up against the pillows on the bed, whilst he kneels between her legs; it gives them the intimacy of face to face contact, without the pressure of his weight bearing down on her. He starts to kiss her again, and as he leans forward she can feel the hardness of him, pressing against her stomach, the urgency of his kisses increasing constantly.
Then he's there, he's pressing against her, making no attempt to enter her, just allowing her to feel his presence, letting her know how much he wants her. He looks into her eyes and simply nods his head at her, his eyebrows raised, it's a question, he speaks no words, but he asks the question, and her response is to simply nod her head back at him, it says everything he needs to hear. Again he kisses her, and she feels everything, his lips, his teeth and his tongue, the tongue that dips gently in and out of her warm and very receptive mouth, and in return he feels her tongue as she pushes it against his.
He pushes hard against her, rocking his hips as he gently enters her, slowly and steadily he drives himself home, he stops, and looks at her, "Okay?" he whispers to her.
"Better." She replies, she places her hand on his face, and gently pulls him against her. He smiles at her and moves his mouth to her neck, rubbing his beard gently over her skin, she loves it, the softness of his goatee combined with the slight bristle of his unshaven skin, it feels amazing, soft yet rough, everything Peter Boyd is, summed up in three little words.
He starts to move a little faster, his hands on her hips holding her, his mouth either latched onto her mouth or her neck or her breasts, constantly moving, constantly electrifying her senses, as she moans, he pants, as she digs her heels into the bed, he tightens his grip on her hips. His movements get even faster as her nears the end, and he senses she is not far off, her breathing speeds up and her heart feels like it's going to burst out of her chest, she digs her nails sharply into his back causing him to curse loudly.
"Ah! Fucking hell Grace."
"Shit I'm sorry, you okay?" She asked, but he doesn't stop, he carries on thrusting, until he all but explodes inside her, he feels her muscles tighten around him as she comes, and they both hold onto each other with a vice like grip until they have calmed down enough to think straight.
He keeps his arms around her waist and holds onto her tightly, his head nestled into her shoulder, her arms still round his neck, holding him as tightly as he is holding her. They're still joined in the most intimate of ways, neither of them willing to pull away from the other. She turns her head and rests it on his shoulder, still breathless, she feels emotional, tired and very emotional.
Eventually they pull apart, she lays facing away from him, and he pulls her against his stomach, they lay in a spoons position, they don't speak, there's no need, there's nothing to say, she just lays against him, and he just holds her tight, nothing could feel more natural than falling asleep in the arms of the one you love.
-o0o-
It was an hour or so later that Boyd woke to an empty and cold bed, he immediately got up to go and find her, pulling on the shorts he'd left beside the bed earlier. He's still inside the house when he hears her gentle sobs coming from the veranda, the door is open, and he watches her for a few moments, she's sat on the large swing seat that occupies one end of the veranda, her feet up, and her arms around her knees pulling them tight to her. He's unsure of his next move, he wants, no, he needs to go and comfort her, but he is not sure if he is the reason she's crying. Eventually he slowly walks outside; stoops down in front of her and gently brushes her hair off her face.
"Did I do something wrong?" He asks her, cringing at how pathetic he sounds, but unsure of what else to say, he needs to say something, and saying are you okay, when she clearly isn't would be even worse.
She looks at him with a confused expression, "what? No, god I'm sorry, no you haven't done anything wrong."
He leans forward and rests his forehead against the side of her head, he stays in that position for a few minutes, then he puts one hand under her knees and the other on her back, allowing him to lift her up with ease, he sits on the seat and holds her in his arms, resting her on his lap, his arms hold her tightly, securely, he doesn't say another word, for he knows that when she's ready she will tell him, and she does, she cries for a while longer, snuggles into him, feeling the security that this large, strong and yet at times incredibly sensitive man gives her, the protection he offers is very welcome for a woman who has so very recently stared in the face of death.
"I'm sorry."
"What are you sorry for?" He asks her, his voice soft and quiet; at the end of his sentence he kisses her hair softly.
"For this, for crying, I just felt so….so overwhelmed I guess."
"Why?"
"Six months ago, I sat in a hospital bed, feeling like death and honestly not knowing how long I had left in this world, or whether I would make it through the next couple of months even. Now I'm here with you, in the most luxurious accommodation I've ever seen, with a man who is without a doubt the kindest and most sincere man I've ever known, who held me in his arms and made love to me, tenderly and gently, and it all just feels a bit surreal. I keep wondering if it's really happening, or did I die and this is what heaven is like?"
"Well it can't be heaven, not if I'm here." He said with a smile.
"It wouldn't be my idea of heaven without you."
"Really?" He said with a distinctive surprised sound to his voice.
"Yes really, do you have any idea what you mean to me?"
"I don't know, not really, we were friends, then we were close friends, and then friends who wanted something more, and now I guess we're friends who've had something more." He said, again trying to make light of the situation to avoid embarrassing himself or her.
"You mean everything to me, I don't think I would have got through the cancer without you, you were with me every step of the way, yet you never told a soul, you never mentioned to any of the team how much time you spent holding my hand and supporting me, mentally and physically, you asked me for nothing, and you gave me everything."
His voice turned more serious, "I did the only thing I could do, the only thing I knew how to do, I wanted to do more, I wished I could do more, but I couldn't and I hated it, I hated every damn minute of it. Seeing you in constant agony, watching you vomit until your throat was so sore you couldn't speak, watching your heart break when you realised your hair was falling out, if I could have given you a kidney or some bone marrow or something physical it would have felt like something so much more helpful, it would have felt like I was actively helping you, instead of just sitting and watching as you went through hell."
"But what you did meant the world to me, no matter what state I was in, you never walked away, you stayed by my side through thick and thin, and that was what I needed, I wasn't always pleasant to you, in fact there were times when I was downright spiteful, but still you stayed at my side, holding my hand and comforting me, and no matter what I said or how many times I told you I didn't want or need your pity, you came back, day after day, and if I live to be a hundred, I will never be able to repay you, or let you know just how much it meant to me."
"I don't want you to repay me, I never wanted your gratitude or thanks, I just wanted you to get well."
Grace snuggled closer to him; she put her arms around his neck and buried her head into his shoulder as the tears again started to fall. He gently rubbed her back as she cried, he didn't try to silence her or make her stop, he just held her until she stopped, she hadn't shed many tears whilst she had been ill, and he guessed that was what was happening now, it was a kind of grief, the cancer was gone, and with it had gone every ounce of fight she had in her, she had thrown everything at beating it, and now all she had was this big empty hollow feeling, that and the fear of it returning, the constant nagging worry that it would be back, and whether she would have the strength to fight it again. He heard her sniff and lift her head away from his shoulder.
"Talk to me?" He asked his voice once again soft and quiet.
"I don't even know why I'm crying Peter, I just feel kind of empty."
"It's understandable."
"Is it? I'm glad you think so, I'm not sure I understand it."
"Ha! Doctor Foley you do surprise me."
"Do I?"
"Grace, you've spent the best part of a year fighting this bloody illness, you've given it everything, every ounce of strength you have, it occupied your every waking thought, and a lot of the non-waking ones as well, now it's gone, and whilst it's good that it's gone, it's kind of left this big space in your life, you beat it, you won, but there's no prize, just a big empty space where it was. Now you have to take some time and readjust to life without the cancer, without having chemotherapy and operations and scans, and tests, it's a huge change and it will take time."
"Have you been reading my books?" She replied with a smile, stray tears still falling silently down her face.
"I've spent a lot of time in waiting rooms over the last year, waiting rooms full of leaflets about beating and surviving cancer, about survivor's guilt, about post recovery depression."
"I see."
"We have time Grace, we have lots of time, time for you to adjust, to get your strength back and get back to living your life, instead of living with the fear of dying."
"Thank you. Not just for this but for everything, for every night you sat by my bed and watched me sleep only to wake up with a bad back and a numb arse caused by a hospital chair, for all of it."
"What was I supposed to do when the woman I love was suffering? I couldn't have walked away from you then, and I won't do it now, when you were going through the worst of it, all I wanted to do was hold you in my arms, but I couldn't, every part of you hurt and I couldn't even touch you, let alone hold you. Now, sat here holding you in my arms like this feels like the best thing in the world, I feel like I've won the lottery, whether you're crying or not."
Grace looked up into his eyes, a slight look of surprise on her face, she lifted her head just far enough for her lips to reach his, she closed her eyes as she kissed him, it wasn't a passionate heat searing kiss, it was just her lips pressed against his, her lips pressed against the lips of the man she loved.
Eventually they pulled apart, it was early morning and the sun was about to come up, he stood up and stood her on the veranda, "wait here a moment." He went inside and returned with the hooded top he'd been wearing earlier, it wasn't cold, but the breeze from the sea could definitely be felt, and he didn't want her to get ill, her immune system was still very low, and an illness could have major consequences for her. He held the jacket open and put it on her before zipping it up. He then once again picked her up and carried her down the steps of the veranda and out onto the beach, she giggled as he carried her, not stopping for breath, and not telling her what he was doing, he eventually stopped and lowered her onto the sand, he then sat behind her and pulled her back against his stomach, he slipped his hands around her waist, holding her tightly. He placed his mouth next to her ear and kissed her neck before speaking, "have you ever seen the sunrise over the sea?"
"Nope, can't say as I have."
"Well prepare to be astounded, because the sun is about to come up and we are going to experience it from the comfort of our own private beach." He said, finishing by kissing her again.
She placed her hands in the sand, it was cool, soft and beautifully white, she turned her head to the side and kissed him again, this time with a little more passion, she stopped and looked into his eyes, "I love you, I don't know if I've ever said it before, I may have done when I was ill, but I can't remember, but I just wanted to say it now…." She waffled on until he interrupted her.
"Grace?" He said.
"What?"
"The sun's coming up." He replied, and she could see the bright orange sun reflected in his eyes, she turned her head back and sat silently in his arms, revelling in the feeling, the sun coming up whilst she sat in the arms of the man she loved, what better way to start living again.
The End