Chapter 6
He had never seen anyone as beautiful as Ana, particularly that Sunday at breakfast. Graceful, elegant, her blue eyes gleaming with strength. Not a single soul would have guessed that less than twelve hours before, her intoxicated state had Christian practically carry her from one end of a hall to her room at the other.
Late that night, He had searched her bag for snacks she always carried during their day trips. He had fed her crackers and persuaded her to drink two glasses of water before she fell asleep. When he tucked her into her warm bed, the dark ink on her belly screamed at him through the thin material of her singlet. Look at how this phrase suffocates you both, the black letters screamed. Ana's eyes slipped closed, and within moments, she was asleep. He glanced down at the words on her abdomen one final time, knowing he would never see them again.
The next morning, neither mentioned what happened the night before. Ana was so relaxed and bright at breakfast, that Christian wondered if she remembered anything at all. Had she showered and recognised the words on her skin?
Christian finished breakfast before Ana, and as she read over the morning paper in the dining room, Christian told her he had to make a phone call back home to his sister and nephew. Ana smiled as she always did each Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. Christian would whisper the importance of not letting Avery think that, like Avery's father, Christian had slipped away from the child's life. Each time Christian bashfully told Ana he had to make a phone call, she fell harder for him.
That day, Christian skipped making the phone call. Instead, he slipped a note under Ben and Denise's door, thanking them for the wine. It tasted delicious, Christian had penned on the religious stationary of the bed and breakfast.
They left for their sightseeing after breakfast, bundled up in the warmer clothes they had packed. It was nearing the end of November, and the temperature was dropping dramatically by the week.
When they stood at the edge of a rotunda at a vantage point, Ana felt a shock of cold run through her veins. Seattle would be just as cold, but that was home. The cold was expected. In Ireland, by the cliffs of the ocean, the wind was bitter when it touched Ana's cheeks.
It was nearing lunchtime, and there weren't many tourists around. Christian could see a large group of tourists at the next vantage point, who probably had a better view of the cliff faces. But Christian didn't mind. The rotunda was different, secluded. The day was foggy and the sky was grey, but Christian managed to take some wonderful photos from his perspective.
Ana stood, looking over the cliff face as best she could from her position in the rotunda. Looking down, she could see the water foam and spray against eroded rock. It was extraordinary, like nothing she had ever seen. It was sad to think she may never have seen something so magical.
"I have this incredible need to ask you to marry me right now."
Ana spun around abruptly. She found his face was etched in seriousness, a passion that overwhelmed and frightened her.
She looked absolutely stunned. She swallowed, and Christian realised his mistake.
"I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that," Christian remarked, and he lowered the lens of his camera.
Ana shook her head. "It's okay."
When she turned again, they were silent. Her eyelids slipped closed, and Ana listened to the sound of the waves crashed violently. Amidst the gigantic splashes that made her eyelids flutter in fright, Ana heard Christian step up beside her. Splash. Crash. Smash.
"I'm in love with you," Christian ventured. He sounded like a lovesick schoolboy who read too often. "You know that, right?" he whispered.
She nodded slowly. Her heart was in her throat. Her body felt heavy. Her fingertips were tingling. Was she having a panic attack? She couldn't remember what they felt like.
It didn't matter, because when she turned to tell him she needed to sit down, Christian lunged forward and kissed her. She was in his arms, and he was holding her up. Her drained body felt revitalised, and she forgot her worries.
Her lips parted slowly, and as the tip of his tongue brushed hers, Ana gasped. Christian moaned, and for the first time in their lives, they were truly intimate. A part of Christian was inside Ana, thrashing against her velvet skin and tasting her pink tongue. The tongue that had delivered promises of devotion and apologies for not being perfect had finally met hers, and it was blissful. The cold wind which ravished the cliffs swept Ana's hair around her neck, but she was safe in Christian's arms, his palm warm on her lower back.
A child's high pitched voice startled them, and Christian pulled away from Ana, stepping over to the other end of the rotunda.
Ana sighed and rested back against the stone railing. Her lips tingled. He was a magnificent kisser; firm, hot, patient.
He seemed troubled as they stood apart, but when Ana met his gaze, she motioned toward the car.
They walked hand in hand across the gravel parking lot, and slid into their respective seats, locking the car doors.
And then it began. His fingers raked into Ana's waves, and their lips met once again. It was lazy and insistent, but a welcomed relief. They didn't know why or if it mattered, but there was an unspoken agreement to let reason slide for a few moments. Ana slid closer, Christian grabbed at her waist to help her climb over the console.
But it was awkward and uncomfortable as Ana dangled one foot between them and another on her seat.
She pulled away, and Christian sighed deeply. "We should stop," she whispered. He enjoyed watching Ana bite her bottom lip. "This is getting out of hand."
"I know," Christian agreed. "I think we're just both really tired." He ran a hand through his hair as she sat back on her seat. "How about we go and get some lunch and then head over to Bunratty Castle."
"Another castle?" Ana groaned uncharacteristically. "Christian, they're beginning to blur."
He chuckled. "Well, what about we just drive on then?"
Her expression lit up with panic. "But, Christian, the itinerary states that we're booked in Shannon for one more night!"
"So let's skip paying attention to the itinerary for just one night. How about we go back to the Bed and Breakfast, grab our bags and check out. And tonight, we could find somewhere different...somewhere a little less Jesus-y. We could keep driving and then tomorrow night we'll be right on schedule."
"But we paid for separate rooms last night. We made it a rule not to do the same thing on two consecutive nights..." Ana insisted.
"Well, we could share a room to make up for it." Christian shrugged. "It would be like usual, but this time in a proper hotel."
Ana grinned widely. "I'd like that."
Ana leaned forward to turn on the GPS, finding her balance with a palm on Christian's thigh. When he flinched, Ana looked down to the strong muscle beneath her palm.
His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated. She traced the seam slightly, and pulled her hand away.
He coughed and turned to look out the window, finding the family of three laughing and taking photos, as the wind almost knocked the little boy over.
The only thing he noticed as Ana cursed the keypad of the GPS, was that the toddler in the rotunda had inherited copper curls.
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"I enjoyed seeing the cliffs today," Christian commented as he stirred his cup of Irish stew. "We've been spending so much time in castles and churches and villages that we've barely paid attention to the landscape."
"You're right." Ana shifted on the stone wall. "I've never seen the ocean."
Ennis was a very busy town. Restaurants were full that Sunday, so Christian and Ana decided to grab two cups of Irish stew in a bakery, along with a large damper roll. They sat on a stone wall, finding others had opted to do the same thing. From the low barrier they seated themselves on, they could see the valley below, a smaller town thriving on the Sunday festivities. It was rare to find a town so busy on its only day of rest, and Christian and Ana often made other plans for the day. Today was an exception. Ireland was alive with music and street dancing.
"Really?" Ana asked. "I went to California when I was thirteen." She shook her head at the memory. "It was so different to home."
Christian pulled at the corner of the damper, and offered a piece to Ana. "How did you deal with the beach?"
Ana sighed as she circled her spoon in her cup. "I didn't, really." She accepted the bread in his warm hands. "I sat up on the pier and read while my family swam in the ocean." The soup was warm on his lips. Salty. Not nearly as delightful as Ana's kiss, but nonetheless delicious. "Sometimes I got a slushie."
Christian shuddered jokingly. "Eugh...slushies. I hate those."
Ana laughed. "Speaking of ice, it's getting really cold."
"Do you want my jacket?" Christian offered, setting his stew down on the wall.
"No, I'm fine." Ana shook her head. "It's just the wind on my neck."
He unwrapped the scarf from around his neck, and gently wound it around Ana's naked neck. It smelled like Christian, the scent she had woken up to each morning for three weeks.
"That was really cheesy, wasn't it?" Christian smirked.
She looked down to the wool blue scarf around her neck. Her heart sang with supposition. She was supposed to be with him. "Yeah." She couldn't hide the hint of happiness in her tone. "But cheesy is good." He watched her intently. "It's normal, like everyone else."
His brow creased as he listened to her softly spoken words. "We're not a cliché, Ana."
"I know. But sometimes I wish that we were." She sighed, and looked up to meet his gaze. She looked tired in his eyes, the honest and only reflection which she considered real. "It would be easier than having to pretend that what we have is over." And then she looked away, to an elderly man dancing with his family.
Christian scoffed lightly in agreement. "We're not doing a very good job of it."
She shook her head, a smile playing at her lips. "I've forgotten why we even bother."
She expected him to be smiling, but when she gazed up again, Christian looked hurt. "Because you said you needed time," he explained. "And then you said you weren't trying to push me away anymore." He sipped his lunch, and Ana waited for him to finish. "And then you told me you didn't want to be a virgin for any longer."
"And then you kissed me," Ana whispered softly.
The light returned to his eyes.
"We've made a real mess," Christian chuckled.
"But we love each other," she reasoned.
"That's all that counts at the end of the day, right?" Christian smiled.
Her soft smile warmed his heart. When she opened her arms and moved closer, the denim of their jeans brushed. Ana leaned forward and hugged Christian, his strong arms wrapping around her delicate body.
He could feel her warm breath on his neck. He felt cold. Warm. Cold. He couldn't decide. Her body held his tightly. Her tone was low, loving and lonesome when she raised her head to breathe against the shell of his ear. "I think all that matters is that you're sleeping beside me."
He ran his hands over her back. To hold. That was the phrase he would ask her to write on him.
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It was hours after dinner that they had finally allowed themselves to relax, back in the hotel room. The single room was spacious and modern, but it didn't seem right. There wasn't an image of a religious figure to be found on the cream coloured walls. It was different; comfortable. But far from refreshing. The sentiment Christian associated with Ireland, was his fortune to feel right at home wherever they stayed; but that feeling was taken from him in their upmarket hotel in Ennis. The only piece of home he had was Ana.
When she stepped from the bathroom after her shower, a spray of steam seeping behind her, he realised it was okay to not belong every waking minute. Home would never leave him.
She padded around the room, boiling tea for the both of them with the only two teabags in the room. Writing songs relaxed Christian, and so he found himself with a pencil in hand, sitting up against the bed head most nights of their trip. Ana was always considerate not to disturb Christian, and when he looked up half an hour after she had finished showering, he found her sitting by the misted window writing on postcards.
She seemed to be lost for words to write.
"Writer's block?" Christian quizzed. He watched the corners of her lips upturn slowly.
She giggled, and then sighed. "Yes."
He smiled and their gazes met. "I've got an idea," Christian said, and he waved her over to the bed. "Give me a postcard."
She sat on the edge of the mattress and picked out her least favourite postcard. She didn't want to waste them. She often found him scribbling on pads of paper, and she had spent more than twenty minutes in a souvenir store that day, picking her favourite cards to send back home to Seattle and Montesano.
He grasped the thin cardboard in his hand and turned it over, not bothering to look at the image on the front.
"You write me a postcard and I'll write you one."
Ana smiled and nodded and went back to her desk. She wrote about what they had spent their time doing for the last three weeks, highlights and adventures that had left them both in stitches. She didn't mention the important adventures like their stolen kisses and desperation to touch.
She finished and sat by Christian, her back pressed against the headboard as their shoulders brushed.
He handed her his postcard, and she handed him hers. She smiled, and turned it over to read it.
'When I wake up well I know Im gonna be, Im gonna be the man who wakes up next to you. When I go out yeah I know Im gonna be, Im gonna be the man who goes along with you. If I get drunk well I know Im gonna be, Im gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you. And if I haver, yeah I know Im gonna be, Im gonna be the man whos havering to you. But I would walk 500 miles, and I would walk 500 more, just to be the man who walks a 1000 miles to fall down at your door. When I come home, yeah I know Im gonna be, Im gonna be the man who comes back home to you. And if I grow old, well I know Im gonna be, Im gonna be the man whos growing old with you. When Im lonely, well I know Im gonna be, Im gonna be the man whos lonely without you. And when Im dreaming, well I know Im gonna dream, Im gonna dream about the time when Im with you.'
Her heart had stopped somewhere between seeing his scribbled script flooding every blank space of the small postcard, and reading the words.
Ana swallowed, and looked up to Christian, who was engrossed in reading her words. How could he be so honest when she was so scared?
"You have photos of me on your camera," Ana stated, watching his glasses fall to the edge of his nose.
He was focused on reading her slightly larger postcard, with its neater and smaller script. Still, he listened. "Yes."
Ana shifted on the pillow, watching his eyes. "Lots of photos of me." She watched the lump in his throat bob. Masculine. Couldn't he stop being a gentleman for one night and just ravish her?
"Just me," Ana stressed
He glanced her way, his eyes clouded with pain; detailing his search for an explanation.
"I'm going to have a shower."
When he stepped out of the bathroom twenty minutes later, Ana was already in bed in her pale blue, flannelette pyjamas. It was close to midnight when he glanced at the flashing red numbers on the hotel clock, so he switched of the TV and lights, and slipped in beside Ana.
He thought she was asleep, but her gentle whisper after three minutes roused him from his thoughts. "I'm not leading you on, Christian."
He remembered their kiss, her hand on his thigh in the rental car. She was conflicted, and he understood completely.
"Ana, I've never thought that."
At his words, Ana rolled over to face Christian. He felt the mattress dip and so he shifted onto his side to meet her gaze. The world seemed right again.
"I've been feeling really comfortable lately...being somewhere so different," Ana whispered, her palm resting by her chin on her pillow.
Christian's features were doused with tiredness. "That's great, Ana. I'm so proud of you for seeing Dr Flynn and working some things out."
Her expression was one of modesty, and she looked to Christian for confidence. "He asked me something in my last session that's been weighing on my mind."
He nodded his head in question. "What's that?"
"Well," Ana started, "...we were talking about you and how excited you were to be going to Ireland. And then Dr Flynn asked me if I believed you were excited to see Ireland or spend more time with me."
Christian grinned widely. "I'm so happy to do both, Ana. This has been one of the best experiences of my life."
She stroked the soft skin of her abdomen beneath the covers, allowing her fingers to slip beneath her flannelette pyjama top. "I'm really glad, Christian." Her lips parted and then closed. Her mind was working at full speed. Her pink tongue poked out to wet her lips. He waited for her to continue. "He asked if I enjoyed spending time with you..." Ana confessed.
See, Ana. It's not so hard. "I hope you said 'yes'..." Christian prompted.
Ana chuckled. "Of course." Her next words came out rushed, as though they had been eating at her conscience. "The last thing he asked me was if I ever thought about spending more time with you."
Christian shifted his palm on the mattress, and wondered just how close her fingers were. "We've been joined at the hip for nearly three weeks, Ana."
She drew a deep breath. "I have a feeling he meant more than that Christian...He asked me to imagine what it would be like, if we were together...and if I liked that thought..." when she exhaled at the end of the sentence, Christian breathed in her minty breath. God, he wanted to taste her. It was such an opportunity.
"Have you thought about it?" she asked softly.
Yes, he wanted to say. I can't help it. Every night and even during the day, I can't help but want to see you naked. I want to touch your ass and lick your breasts. It's been so long and I just want to be with you. We're together, practically married. I'd give everything just to kiss you between your thighs.
Instead, Christian questioned her. "Have you?"
Her answer was quick, her explanation following so fast he could barely digest her admission. "Yes," she muttered. "But it's hard, and that's what I told Dr Flynn. I don't really know what's supposed to happen. I mean, I know what goes on beneath the sheets..."Ana trailed off.
Christian sought out her hand beneath the covers, but he never found it. "Nobody expects you to understand, Ana. It's okay."
Ana nodded. "He wants to help me work through my problems with being intimate, another person being so close." She shifted toward the middle of the bed. Ana was anything but subtle. "He wants me to imagine, but all I know is what I've learned from movies and books." Christian swallowed. "And I know that's not what it's like." Her tone lowered. "It's icky."
No, his mind screamed. It's wet and hot, but never icky. I'll make you forget how dirty it is. I'll kiss you and hold you and do things to you you've never read of. I'll touch you and make you whimper. Cleanliness will be your last priority. I'll make you forget your name.
"It doesn't have to be icky," Christian explained as best he could without frightening her. His mind swam with ways to teach her. One idea was illuminated while the rest basked in darkness.
"We could practice...you know, what it would be like." Ana's eyes widened at his words. "We could just keep things clean."
She felt reckless, empowered. He was doing this for another reason. He wanted her, and Ana liked knowing it. "How?" she asked quietly.
She wasn't turning away. There was a point of no return and she was offering to sit in the passenger seat. "Well, we could keep our clothes on..." Christian suggested. "Maybe touch each other..." he added. "Anything you want."
She swallowed harshly. "Christian, I don't know if I'm ready for that..."
He interrupted her thought process. "One day, I think we're going to be so much more." Truthful words, she mused. "But before that, before we get serious, it's important that you are okay with being closer to people." Pull me closer, Christian. "It's a test run." Will you touch me like you will on our wedding night? "And if you need to stop, at any point, I'll be here to hold you when things get tough." I'm going to try my best not to freak. "You just say the word and we'll try again some other time." Christian's hand found Ana's waist, and slipped. His fingers curled around her hip and he scooted closer. "Let me help you learn what you want..."
The most important thought escaped her lips. "I want you."
"Is there something that you'd like to do?" he whispered.
"I'd like to kiss you again," Ana confessed, her tone littered with honesty. "The way we kissed today."
Christian nodded and shifted closer, making sure to not press his body against Ana's. Their kiss that morning had been heated, and he remembered the way his body had reacted. If the same happened, he didn't want to frighten her.
She was nervous, Christian could tell. Most of their kisses had been fuelled by passion and boiled lust. They were waiting for the other to make a move.
Her lips pressed against his. His body hummed in satisfaction. Part your lips; I want to really kiss you. The way you want to be kissed. Their lips moved against one another's. His palm travelled over her back. Soft flannelette on his fingertips. Her warm tongue sliding against his.
When they pulled away to breathe, Ana's head was spinning.
"I've never done this before..." she mumbled, and his lips swayed against hers. He wanted more, and she returned his soft kisses. "I don't know the steps," his lips sucked her lower one softly, interrupting her, "the steps that build up to making love."
He sighed against her flesh. "It doesn't matter, Ana."
Ana pulled back, her fingers travelling over his bicep to reach his neck. "It does. I want to be able to imagine what it feels like to be with you." She curled her fingers around his neck. "To feel attracted in that way..." her fingertip traced his Adam's apple. It bobbed beneath her touch.
He was done for. He'd never been so deeply in love.
"You don't have to hide from me..." he whispered.
Her heart raced. "I'm not."
"You are," Christian insisted seriously. "You're telling me you've never been aroused." Ana's face reddened. "I know you have." He watched her eyes flicker, and tried to focus. Her lips were swollen from his kiss. "You were practically panting the other night when you made me write on you."
She ducked her chin. "I was drunk..."
He pressed himself against her. "You want me." She blushed. He ran a hand up her thigh. "What feels good?"
The dog days were over. "When we tried...that time in your apartment...before I ran out..."
"You liked what we were doing?" Christian questioned.
She raised her gaze to meet his. "Yes."
"Is that what you want to do? How far we went that night?" he peered into her blue eyes, glassy with trepidation.
"Yes. But keep going..." Ana insisted.
It was slow and sensual, the way he pulled away from her lips and unbuttoned her shirt with trembling fingertips.
"We'll go slowly, okay?" he muttered when he slid the flannelette down her arms and tossed it to the edge of the bed. She was half naked, lying beside him. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.
Christian touched Ana, but only with his fingertips. The room was dark, but his hands assisted his eyes as he learnt her small frame. Goosebumps rose on her velvet skin, and Christian pulled the covers up over her chest.
She was soft, god, unbelievably soft. Nothing had ever felt nicer, and Christian excitedly dreaded the day he would be inside her body, having to hold out long enough to pleasure her. It would be the best form of torture.
He traced her curves, and after a long time, after Ana's eyes had slipped closed and her body was no longer shaking, he touched her breasts. She sighed, and his warm hands held her breasts, feeling them beneath the covers.
His arousal hardened when his fingertips brushed her nipples the first time. He made himself shift slightly so she couldn't feel it. He couldn't disturb the moment.
"Oh God," she whispered when his thumb traced her nipple. And brush strokes made her moan. Back and forth. Back and forth. He wanted to lick her soft skin, trace the curves as he imagined so many times before.
"I take it you liked that," he smirked when his fingertips ceased their torment. Ana drew a deep breath.
"I've never felt that way before..."she confessed as his hand rested over her abdomen. "Why did you stop?"
He counted to ten in his head. "I didn't want to take things too far..."
She rolled onto her side, and her expression was relaxed with a dreamlike quality. "I could have done that all night."
Christian laughed softly.
"The feeling just kept getting better and better," Ana added. "And when you think it can't get any better, it does."
It did, he remembered. At the peak of her arousal moments before, she had been pleasantly confused, her skin hot to his touch. Her skin. Her breasts. He wanted to feel the tiny mounds in his hands again.
"We should probably get some sleep," Christian murmured.
With a kiss to his cheek, Ana scooted closer and agreed.
She was awake for a while, Christian knew. She shifted in his arms and rolled onto her side, and then onto her back.
She was frustrated by want, arousal and denial. He wanted her to want it, though. More than anything, Christian needed her aggravation to consume her. Then they could both move on, together.
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Pushing open their hotel room door the next morning, he found the blankets bundled up around Ana's shoulders. When the lock clicked shut, her eyelids fluttered open. Their gazes met, and she smiled. Her hair was dishevelled as it was every morning, but her features held a wanton desire that radiated confidence across the room to where Christian stood.
The cardboard cups were warm in his hands, but Ana pulled the covers up over her naked chest as she sat up against the headboard.
"There isn't a dining room here, so I went and got us some breakfast from down the street," Christian explained, handing Ana a tea and allowing the paper bag to slide from its hold in his elbow and onto the bed. Ana reached forward to open the small bag, blinking wordlessly to render the tiredness from her foggy mind. Warm scones and jam.
"Thank you, Christian," she smiled softly.
He gazed at Ana for a moment, her eyes glued on the breakfast he had ventured out into the cold to buy her. Her shoulders were bare, freckled naked skin. He was certain that at any moment she would realise her nakedness and scramble to find her pyjama top.
He removed his thick coat and sat down beside Ana on the bed, her mind deep in concentration as she searched for something. Here it comes, Christian thought. She isn't comfortable, she needs to cover up.
"Is there a plate or something, Christian?" she asked.
His eyes widened. There was a god.
When he stepped over to the kitchenette, he watched her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes closed, and she glanced down at her chest. She seemed nervous. Christian fondled with the plates, giving her a moment to compose herself. He was rooting for her, she could do it. With a single tug of the bed sheets around herself, he watched her draw in a deep breath, open her eyes, and smile.
"Breakfast in bed?" he queried as he turned around. The corners of her mouth upturned in a smile. He was proud of her.
She nodded.
"It can be a week of firsts," he suggested, and then realised his mistake. Ana grinned, and Christian looked away bashfully. He hadn't intended for his comment to be taken so directly. And he certainly wasn't expecting their relationship to grow so quickly. He was referring to the night before, how he had touched her so closely. He wasn't alluding to going all the way. But Ana was smiling widely, and all he could do was blush.
"It was nice waking up this morning..." Christian shared as he spread blackberry jam onto a steaming scone.
"You wake up every morning, Christian." Ana giggled, taking a bite out of her own scone.
He drew patterns against the cardboard of his coffee cup with his thumb. "Today was different."
She had been wrapped up in his arms, her petite body warm and soft against his larger form. He had woken to find his fingers splayed across her naked ribcage, his arousal strong against her behind. Ana had shifted in her sleep, slowly moving away from him and rolling over on the mattress. Still, his hand had brushed over her body, and when she was content in her new position of sleep, his palm had rested upon her smooth lower back. Warmth. He never wanted to feel the cold again. If hell grew fires, he'd be happy to spend his afterlife there.
"I wish we'd have woken up together," Ana confessed, her bottom lip caught between her pearly teeth. She reached forward for the paper bag, resting her tea upon the bedside table. "We have one week left..." she mused, taking a delicate bite out of her scone.
Her tongue slipped out to lick the traces of blackberry jam. He watched her pink flesh, remembered how it felt against his own. Wet. Hot.
Christian's coffee fell from his grasp, and Ana shifted upon the mattress before he grabbed it quickly, sighing in relief to find only a few drops on the dark bedspread.
When Christian looked up to find Ana's calmed expression, he found something even more breathtaking. The covers had slipped lower, revealing her naked chest. She didn't flinch, and Christian told himself not to stare at her perfect nipples in the light of day.
"Let's make the most of it," he muttered, his throat too tight to finish his first coffee of the day.
Ana smiled, and didn't reach for the covers.
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AN: The next chapter is going to be explosive. BAM. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one. To those who review, thank you very much!