"You don't have to do that," she said softly, watching as Billy gathered the dishes and headed back into the kitchen.
He smiled as he returned, grabbing everything that remained for the final trip. "I don't mind, besides it seems only fair. You handled the dinner, I should handle the cleanup, right?"
"I don't know if calling a number and reading off a take-out order really qualifies as handling dinner, but if you want to get technical about it then yeah, I guess you're right."
A soft sigh escaped as she leaned into him, happy to have him next to her again, settling back into their comfortable embrace.
"Besides," he whispered, brushing a few errant pieces of hair away from her face, "I'm sure you're probably still not 100% after getting back from the trip and the scare and everything…" He pulled her a little tighter towards him, not wanting to go back to that place in his mind. It was a horrible moment, standing in the hospital waiting room, her dress in his hands having been cut off by the paramedics, the dread deep in his heart—fearing the worst.
"Billy," she groaned, her face still relaxed, her eyes still smiling up at him, "I've told you a hundred times—I'm fine. It was just the flu—the only thing that made it worse was that it ruined our vacation and, more than that, it ruined our plans—our night together."
"Yeah, but the flu after everything you've been through is…"
"I don't want to talk about that."
He heard it in her voice, a palpable shift in the mood and he felt his heart speed up at the mere suggestion. "It's late," he whispered. "You ready to call it a night?"
Billy stood by the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on the bathroom door. It had been the look in her eyes, the somewhat familiar sparkle that had, in the past, always led to more that had really gotten to him. He breathed in deeply, trying to stop the thoughts—knowing where the brain went, the body would surely soon follow.
He draped his pants across the back of the chair, moving to pull down the comforter, happy to fall into their routine—the one that he'd come to cherish, even if it wasn't everything he desired.
"Stop it." She whispered the words out loud as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. It was time. It had been too long—far too long.
Her hands trembled slightly as she ran them down the cool silk of the navy negligee. It was one of Billy's favorites, a piece she hadn't worn since the times they'd shared together. She'd considered buying something new—something more daring, something more sexy, but in the end she'd decided the memories of what they'd had would be more than enough spark to fuel the night.
She could feel the racing of her own heart as she let her hand rest for a moment on the handle of the door. With a deep breath, she pulled the door open, her eyes immediately finding his. The flash of interest in his eyes made her smile and she felt her skin flush at the sight of him standing before her. They'd been together in a sense and she'd loved the times they'd shared.
Waking up in his arms, finding comfort and peace in his embrace, and knowing the family she'd dreamed of was finally complete was no small thing to her, but she couldn't help but think of the way it used to be. It would have been different had they never been together, had she never known how intense and passionate it could be, but they had and she did, and each chaste, gentle kiss felt like it was leading to something or somewhere…somewhere they still hadn't arrived.
He stood still, his eyes heavy on her, the thoughts he tried to quell now impossible to push from his mind. Flashes of memories—of moments they'd spent together , ran rampant through his mind. The slip she wore, an all too tangible reminder of times when he didn't need to worry about her, when she wasn't so fragile, when she was always ready for him.
Phyllis smiled, her movements slow and deliberate as she stepped behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and letting her fingertips roam across his bare chest. She felt his sharp intake of breath as she lightly traced the waistband of his boxers, pressing her body against his back, bracing herself for the oncoming onslaught of fervent passion.
Billy swallowed hard, shifting a bit as his body reacted to her touches and close contact. His hands covered hers, taking them in his and bringing them to his lips for a quick kiss before turning around to face her.
She breathed in, heat surging through her body. She'd been waiting for this and she was ready. So ready. Her eyes had already searched the room, the dresser behind her ready to be cleared. His hands moved up her body slowly, the cool silk passing easily underneath his hands.
Her heart raced faster and faster, the anticipation almost more than she could handle. His hands ran slowly through her hair, his thumbs gently racing the outline of her jawline. He needed to look at her, to take a moment and realize this was real. She was real and all the fear and worry and pain was in the past.
"What's wrong?" she whispered, confused by the sudden stillness, the weight of his gaze on her making her a bit self conscious.
"Nothing." He paused for a moment, swallowing past the thickness in his throat, this moment more weighted than even he imagined. So many nights he'd wanted to reach out, to pull her close to him, to fall back into their rhythm, which was anything but slow and gentle, but his concern for her had always been at the forefront of his mind. She'd been through hell and then some and it was more than enough to touch her, and hold her, and know that she was safe and healthy with him. His needs, his wants, his desires—they were all a distant second to making sure she was okay.
And she certainly seemed okay now. More than okay. The breath caught in his throat as he cradled her face in his hands. "God, I've missed you," he whispered.
She stepped deeper into his embrace, needing to be closer to him, his hands on her face no longer enough. She wanted to feel his warmth, his energy, the desire for her that was always so evident.
Her legs felt as if they might buckle as his lips began a slow and painstaking journey down her neck. She too wanted this moment to last forever, but the slow and steady pace seemed to be a particularly exquisite form of torture.
Leaning back a bit, she opened her mouth, poised to ask a question, but feeling the words vanish as his lips gently, but completely covered hers.
For a moment, he allowed himself to get lost in the moment, breathing her in as his lips captured hers. He could feel her body responding as she pressed up against him, rocking a bit as she deepened the kiss with her tongue.
"Hey." His hands moved to her waist, holding her still, afraid if he didn't stop her seduction, there would be no going back. She whimpered a bit, annoyed at the interruption, her eyes staring into his, full of questions.
"Easy," he whispered, kissing her forehead as he looked at her again. Her skin was flushed and her chest heaved slightly. It wasn't a question of want, but was she pushing herself or worse…was she pushing for his sake? Because she thought this was something he needed or he wanted? Was this too much for her too fast?
"We don't have to…" He let the words trail off, feeling the buzz of electricity as it went through the room. She felt the breath leave her, her entire body now on edge. To stop now, when they were this close.
So close.
"Billy, I…"
He shook his head, his touch impossibly tender as his fingers danced along the hem of her slip. "If you're not ready. I don't want to rush this..or rush you.."
She stopped the words the only way she felt certain would be foolproof, quickly easing the thin straps of the silk slip off her shoulders and wrapping her arms around him as it pooled on the floor at her feet.
In an instant, she found herself in his arms, but not in the usual way. There was no ferocity in his movements, no legs wrapped around his waist—this was entirely different. He cradled her, laying her gently down on the bed, looming over her as the gentle, tender touches continued.
Billy stared down at her, her hair fanned out across the pillow, her body arching slightly to meet his, the look in her eyes a mix of desire and confusion. This was new for both of them. Before it had always been filled with an almost reckless abandon, their times together a true reflection of their relationship.
Hot. Passionate. Crazy. Unable to be contained.
Bu this—this was different—because they were different. He'd faced the idea of losing her, the very real prospect of her being gone from his life forever. In those horrific moments, not once had he thought of never touching her body this way. His fears, his worst nightmares had been never hearing her soft whisper, never seeing the sparkle in her eyes, never feeling the warmth of her body as she lay in his arms.
He ran his hands down her body slowly, feeling her shiver beneath his touch. Immediately, he reached down, pulling the covers up over them, pulling her against him, the feel of her racing heart still pounding against his bare chest.
"I'm not cold," she whispered, her eyes steady on his as she shifted against him, her movements making her intentions quite clear.
She smiled as she felt him respond and allowed her eyes to flutter closed as she felt his warm breath on her neck and chest. His hands were soft as they caressed her body and her eyes opened again, confused by the slight hesitation.
His eyes finally locked with hers as he moved into her slowly, his pace gentle and careful and not at all what she was expecting. But it was him and he was here…and they were together and at this moment- that was all that mattered.
She brought the sheet to her face, wiping away the tears. She could feel his warmth behind her, his soft breathing a clear indication that he still slept soundly. It was ridiculous, these tears, being upset over something like this. Billy had been so loving, so gentle, so careful—it had been beautiful, amazing, and tender. He'd cradled her, taking his time, doing everything he could to make her feel loved, to make her feel safe, to make her feel comfortable…
But he used to make her feel wanted.
The soft sob escaped her lips before she could stop it and she froze, feeling him shift behind her.
"Hey," his hands moved to her waist and he gently moved closer to her, craning his neck to see her face.
It was too late, she couldn't hide the tears now. She forced a smile, turning over into his arms, her forehead touching his bare chest. The concern in his eyes was evident and his voice was thick with worry as he reached out to cup her face.
"What is it? You're crying. What's wrong? Was this too soon? Did I hurt you?"
She didn't allow her face to change, keeping the smile fixed on her face. "No," she said softly. "You were. This was.." She couldn't finish, her voice failing her.
His face relaxed, his lips brushing against her cheek as he pulled her into a tighter embrace. "I know," he whispered, inhaling the scent of her shampoo as he tried to imprint this moment into his mind. "It was perfect."