The warm water lapped against my body as I found release in the sweetest sense that morning. It glided effortlessly over each curve to my frame, easing my body to relax as I thought of him. Would things alter if he knew what I was doing though; indulging in his perfectly sculpted torso as I became undone? Would he still see me as the same person, the same Emma just less naive and unsure? I wondered if he'd find it a turn on before embarrassment freckled my body for thinking such a thing.
The mall had already begun to fill as I entered the doors, searching for Claire in the thickening haze of crowds. My height made it frustrating to see the coffee stand we had planned to meet at and the level of comfort I felt began to decline, feeling at a loss in the crowded space.
"You couldn't spot me? I find that hard to believe!"
At Claire's voice I visibly relaxed, easing around to embrace her. She looked glowing, even as she approached a day closer to her due date, the floaty material exenterating her breasts but falling delicately over her rounded stomach which she cradled with such awe.
Our day breezed by, much like the conversation we shared. Stopping in a small baby boutique for Claire, I watched the scene unfold before me, smiling fondly at all the expectant parents and newly born babies that sleepily clung to their mothers shoulders. I felt my cheeks glow as I tenderly remembered Will's admittance by the river,
'I want to have children with you'
"You two not thinking about kids already are you?" Claire giggled in an almost child-like manner as she continually ran a hand over her own child. I watched how softly she rubbed her stomach, how much affection she showed the infant that lay inside her. My eyes filled with a longing I hadn't known was that strong.
"No" I half laughed, as my eyes wandered to an expecting couple, envious of the radiance they shared with each other. It tormented me to think about becoming a mother and if the pressure of childbirth and motherhood would be so daunting had I found a grip on my OCD sooner.
I swallowed hard, pressing my own hand against my stomach the way Claire did with hers so naturally. I wanted so badly to have a family with Will and it scared me to think I'd never be able to do right by our children, that I'd pass my issues onto them.
"Well right now you get to play cool, Auntie Em, think of it as training ok?"
Claire winked, fussing over the rack of dresses that burst seasons of coloured pastels.
I couldn't help the next question as it tumbled out of my lips, voicing the fear that came to visit sometimes at night.
"Do you think I'll be a good mother?"
Claire turned and smiled widely; gracing me with the warmth the sun possessed.
"I think you'd be a fantastic parent Boo. Both of you will. And you get all the fun running up to that if you get what I mean". She laughed loudly.
I smiled, welling up slightly at her kind sentiment, wondering what it would be like to be a mother, to have such responsibility of someone so innocent and young. It was something I wanted and feared at the same time.
"Oh and speaking of that type of 'fun', I know where were going next!"
...
He turned up around 7, dressed in a dark washed pair of jeans and a chequered shirt, carrying his guarded reservation about the evening with him as he stepped over the threshold. The silence became our torment as we sat down to eat, he keeping a sheltered distance between us.
He flinched when our hands brushed whilst reaching for the greens and his eyes tore rapidly away as my shortened hem line rode further up my thighs. He was too stunned by fear to provoke such a topic, bowing his head desperately in shame as he dared not to look at me.
By the time dinner had been cleared away the tension had increased and I found that the quieter he remained, the less inclined I felt to be. Frustration pent up from inside, knowing that he was distant because of me. Finally, when I couldn't take anymore, I let my voice carry across the room, stunning him with the sharp agitated tone it held.
"Why aren't you talking to me, about anything, about Friday?"
His body reacted first, as if preparing for combat, screwing his fists into balls as he sat deadly still. Remaining fixed to the floor, his eyes clouded over with the shame and anger that conversed in a devil like manner.
"I said yesterday I didn't want to talk about Friday but we did. We did for you! What else do you expect me to say?"
He gestured wildly, his eyebrows rising as the pent up emotion he carried around sunk to despair against his body. He had seemed too calm yesterday, like the fight had just slowly dwindled away from him. Fragility in its most broken form and I had caused it. Now however he seemed defensive of everything, his voice rising as the heat sharply hit his face.
"We didn't sort things out Will!"
"Can we please stop talking about it?" His voice cracked towards the end, indicating his frustration grew out of pain.
"No, I know you're angry at me Will and I'm so, so sorry for what I did but I'm working on it"
"You're just not getting it!" He snapped, almost viciously, dragging his fingers across his face. "I'm not angry at you Emma. What happened that night I- I can't get over it".
His tone lowered around the same time his hands tore away from his face. Tears had started to form as he sat, jolting his knees up and down to ease some of the pressure his body withheld.
"Why though?" I knelt to the ground, resting my chin delicately on his now stationary knee as my hand gently stroked his other. We had barely discussed what happened on Friday; our secrets kept from one another that wounded us when we came apart. He had said he was embarrassed but as I looked to the man I loved with adoration there was more to it that I hadn't realised. I had been too wrapped up in self-discovery to understand fully how he felt.
"Because I can't control myself when I'm around you. Every time I just-"
"Just?"
"I just want to touch you".
His honestly was laced with fear, a bluntness he deemed too damaging for my fragility.
"I want to touch you all the time and when I did," He paused "I couldn't stop." He shook his head in turmoil, feeling weak in front of the one that ran. Irony mocked us.
"I feel so ashamed" he whispered, bringing his hands to his eyes to avoid any tears from escaping. "I should have known when to stop, and that you needed me to stop because you weren't ready but I didn't".
I moved to hold his hand, not knowing if words would be enough to rectify how he felt.
"Then yesterday you said you were scared of all of this and I blame myself. I made you feel scared".
"No, no, no." I quickly stammered, shaking my head as I realised he had misunderstood what I had said yesterday.
"No?"
"I'm not scared of you", my eyes searched for his, revealing the utter devastation I felt at the thought I could fear him in any such way.
"I made you uncomfortable".
I sighed, shifting to sit as I had sat on Friday. His entire body became so rigid underneath me as he held his breath and I needed to find a way to reassure him, to ease his discomfort.
"This" I whispered, waving a finger between our conjoined bodies "didn't scare me. YOU didn't scare me Will. I scared myself because I wanted you and didn't know what I was doing."
"I pushed you too far though" His tone expressed the frustration he had with himself and I held his body closer, comforting him, reassuring that he had done nothing wrong.
"You didn't push me to do anything I didn't want, I promise Will", I placed a light kiss on his forehead as his eyes drifted shut. "I wanted you to touch me".
"Are you afraid of me touching you?"
"No". My lips descended on his, pushing him further back into the couch. My tongue tangled against his in the most delicious of ways, how passion and lust, and love came together in blissful harmony.
"I was fearful of wanting you too much". My tone was hoarse as I panted against the joining of soft skin between his neck and jaw. "Scared I didn't know what to do or what I liked, what you liked".
"Stop me if it's too much".
"Just touch me". My confession hung lustfully in the air as I slowly peeled back the top I was wearing, easing each button out of place until the top slumped to the floor in a heap. He devoured me with just his eyes, taking in each dusted freckle and mark; all the while writhing under me, desiring me, wanting me, empowering me.
"Beautiful" he panted, rubbing delightfully over the white lace I had bought only hours before. His skilful hands dipped under the wire, palming over my erect bud like no other man had done so before and I began to push my chest further into him, driven by the fire rippling through my body.
Heat and lust tore at his chest as I gladly pulled his shirt away, gliding my fingers across his tanned and taut torso. His chest panted heavily, and he looked as though he was struggling to breathe as we sat before one another, sharing the most intimate parts of ourselves.
My lips parted, tingling with the desire to taste him. His desire outweighed mine though as he pulled me to him closer, turning around so my back became slumped against the couch, his body hovering over me like a Greek God, worshiping every inch of skin he could find.
Hands roamed as his lips tasted, seducing my body to incoherency. Kisses peppered my chest before travelling lower, his warm tongue lapping seductively as it glided over my stomach, his hands easing the zipper to my skirt down. More skin, more taste, his lips humming only of delight as he discovered my body for the first true time and not just in my dreams.
Lay only in my undergarments he sat up, trailing over every contour and curve to my petite body with his eyes and fingers. Softness eased out his hunger as he saw me half-naked for the first time, admiring my innocence in the flickering candlelight, taking delight in all that I had shared.
His hands stopped for a moment as he slid the denim down his muscled thighs, tossing them to the mound of layers we had already shed.
His lips ceased being frantic, now gliding softly over my stomach, cherishing every part they came to touch and learn. His forehead pressed to my lower abdomen, his eyelids fluttering shut against my bare skin. Warm breath circulated as my body rose in adoration, feeling his lips kiss lightly over the bow to my panties, not in a rush to remove anything more, simply drinking in the sweet scents of our havened need.
"You can, you know-" My body arched almost instantly, envisioning how easily he'd glide the material off my lower half. When he made no such move to do so, I scrambled to a seating position, resting my lips on his bare shoulder, sucking softly on his collarbone.
"No, this is perfect". Running a hand through my golden red hair, he placed a flutter of loving kisses down my cheek and neck. "This is beautiful".
And it was. Our two bodies learned under the skilful art of each other, confidence blossoming with each new discovery.
Intimacy shared selflessly, retaining the youth of exploration.
It felt desirable to be touched with such love and want, to feel how his lips stretched over me, and how his hands ached to feel me. I felt I could share more, give in to what I knew felt good but he seemed in no hurry to let go of the innocence we had created tonight.
He understood my body now, just as I had done less than 24 hours ago, how to touch it in ways that felt divine and like so, I knew his most treasured secrets, knowing that a touch to his hip could cause him to gasp, pushing into me with a thirst for more.
Minutes twitched by before we found ourselves moving, having been content with the simplistic process of just a touch. His arms wrapped round my legs tightly, anchoring my body close to his as the couch became abandoned, the bed becoming our capture.
Our touches lasted all night, our most intimate of parts remaining clothed and as sleep fell upon us, we shared a bed for the first time.
Change illustrated the morning as our bodies blushed to one another, veiled in the drizzle of sunlight that showered the room. The thought of waking to him each morning became a potent thought, getting to kiss his lips as he whispered lovingly to my body.
We hadn't had much time to stay in the hazy state we were in though as the sharp buzz of my cell arose us stiffly upright.
He was panicked, and I could her Claire's voice shouting in the back, her tone laced with a pain that was unmistakable.
"Claire's gone into labour Em's" Andrew stuttered, "she's having the baby".
Thanks for all the reviews, any thoughts on this one?