Legalities and other niceties in Chapter 1.
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30 March 2003 – Harm
I consult the map for a few minutes to make sure that I know where Kitts Hummock is, which also gives me a chance to still my pounding heart. Putting the map away and starting the car, I calculate the distance and the time of night to arrive at 20 minutes of conversation time that won't – or at least shouldn't – be interrupted by kissing and hugging.
Handholding, however, is definitely in order once I've driven us off-base. Sarah's left hand lies in my right, our fingers intertwined; this feels so right. It's time to speak my mind and heart about waiting, though.
"Sarah, I – "
"Harm, I…" she starts at the same time I do; I tip my head to her with a quick grin in her direction and she resumes after a shaky deep breath. I can sympathize. "Harm, my love, I do not want to screw this up."
"Neither do I, " I assure her. "This is for eternity." I hope I've just redeemed that word for us with a squeeze of our hands.
"I agree." Another heaving breath, this one less shaky. "I never want to spend another night alone in my bed, but…but…" her courage falters a bit before the next words come out in a rush, "can we wait to make love until…"
When she doesn't finish that sentence after a long pause, I venture to finish it with my own thoughts. "Until we're married?"
Tension I hadn't even realized she carried in her body eases as she sags in relief against the seat. "Pretty silly, huh?"
I shake my head as emphatically as I can while I'm driving. "Not at all. What we have together is holy and unique, and I think we should honor its sacredness by acknowledging that to God and the world. I want this," I wave our joined hands between our bodies, "to be pure and blessed."
I see one lovely, slender eyebrow go up out of the corner of my eye. "Now who's the psychic one?"
"What?"
"That wasn't exactly the sentence structure I was planning to use, but all the same words were there."
We should have had at least two kids by now. I have been an idiot of the highest order. "That's because we're finally dropping the walls so we can be whole, Sarah."
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30 March 2003 – Mac
Whole. Holy. What an incredible connection those two words have. I shouldn't be at all surprised that we're thinking alike about waiting; although I'll admit that a small piece of my desire to wait stems directly from the fear that if we made this too easy, it would wind up like all our other relationships. I truly believe, however, that since sex isn't the centerpiece of this relationship, we will be fine with doing this the traditional way.
Not that waiting will be easy. I meant what I said a few minutes ago – I never want to spend another night alone in my bed; actually sleeping with Harm without "sleeping with" Harm will test my patience and resolve even more than my daily struggle to stay sober.
"You know that the reasons I want to wait have nothing to do with my attraction to you, right?" Harm says beside me.
I thought we just covered that. "Since what you just said matched my own feelings, I'd have to say yes to that," I answer, letting go of his hand long enough to run my fingers along his jaw. I am rewarded with a low groan.
Harm captures my hand to nibble at each sensitive pad of my fingertips; it's my turn to moan at the erotic bolts that shoot through my body as he shows me that making love means far more than intercourse. I think we'd better set some limits, which makes me think of high school and the limits I didn't set in my quest to find the man who would love all of me, not just my body.
Right at the moment, however, I can't make a coherent syllable come out of my mouth, never mind a sentence. I never knew that being fully in love with someone could make the physical expression of that love this intense; I am more aroused from just this little act of intimacy than I have ever been from any other man's sexual activities. Only when he's kissed and sucked at each tip twice does he lower my hand and it takes me 34 seconds to gain control of my breathing again.
Damn him, he's grinning from ear to ear because he knows what he just did. If he weren't driving, I'd retaliate now. On second thought, we just passed the Kitts Hummock town line, so the inn can't be too far away. I'll take a little risk.
"I think we need some rules," I manage, turning my hand in his so I can stroke his palm with my middle finger. An irrelevant stray memory creeps through my head: Mic never responded to anything this subtle.
Harm, however, does. His breathing changes and he sits up straighter in his seat. "Rules?" he squeaks. I've only heard him squeak once before, back a couple of months ago when he was so obsessed with my mistaken line about Little AJ's fifth birthday.
"Rules," I affirm, increasing the pressure of my strokes a fraction. We stop at a flashing red light. How droll that this should happen now. "Like that we won't be naked together at the same time until our wedding night."
He turns in his seat to face me.
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30 March 2003 – Harm
"Like that we won't be naked together at the same time until our wedding night," she says as her finger moves salaciously along my palm. I didn't know I possessed this much self-control, frankly.
We're stopped at a flashing red light with no other traffic to be seen; the inn is just up the road and appears to be the only place open along the entire street. I turn in my seat to face the woman I love. "So that would mean that you can be naked as long as I'm not, and vice versa?" I don't think I can keep the hopefulness out of my voice as I ask; I really want to see what this exquisite creature who is torturing me with her caresses looks like in only what God gave her.
Sarah smiles and the world around me lights up. "I believe that's what I said. And I don't agree with Bill Clinton, by the way."
That takes me a moment; I'm not exactly firing on all cylinders here because of what she's doing to my palm and a few other choice pieces of my anatomy. Two of which, I realize, are under discussion in a very specific context. "Umm…that means no…" I cannot believe that I am too embarrassed to say the word "oral" out loud in proximity to the word "sex".
Apparently, so is she. "Yeah."
"I can live with that." I will have to be extraordinarily creative, it seems. "Anything else?"
She's thinking; I can hear her mind clicking along until she shakes her head and grins at me. "No, I think that's enough rules. The more we make, the more we'd risk breaking."
I'll cop to being a guy's guy with my next comment. "So you're saying that third base is okay but sliding toward home isn't?"
Mac crosses her eyes and sticks her tongue out at me. "Men. If it weren't for your inherently entertaining stupidity, I'd have sworn your entire gender off years ago."
