Will Be Yours Ch. 06

Our lovemaking blended with the sound of the rain and the wind, our sighs and moans hanging in the air. Melancholy welled up inside me, gathering in my throat like a rising storm.

"I love you," I whispered, my voice breaking. His rhythm faltered for a moment, and he nuzzled the side of my face.

"Say it again," he growled as he stilled in me.

"I love you," I repeated, shuddering beneath him as he swelled to the point of pain.

"Oh... Cynthia..." he dropped his head back and breathed, beginning to move again. My body shuddered with his every pounding thrust, his back arched, his fists tight around my wrists. I fought to release my hands, and when my right hand slipped away from his sweaty grasp, I raked my fingernails across his back. He growled and snatched it, returning the escaped hand to join the other. Sweat dripped from his brow on to my chest, and he claimed my mouth again.

"Are you ready?" he hissed against my face. "I'm not too far."

I faintly nodded, feeling him gathering momentum. A few reckless thrusts and I came violently. He kept at his thrusts, relentlessly, as my body stiffened again and my womanhood spasmed around his hardness. He kept me on the edge, allowing me no relief, and I came a second time, almost as hard as the first, then a minute later a third, thankfully weaker.

His belly slapped against mine. And then his body stilled above me. He came on a long deep primitive grunt, burying him seemingly into the pit of my stomach. I felt my insides clamp down on him, milking him until he had spent every single drop.

We remained locked together in a twitching, throbbing slippery heat. The tension slowly melted, and he flopped down on me, crushing me with his weight. My body was too numb to feel anything except his heaving chest and my throbbing heart.

"I love you, too," his voice was barely a murmur as he rolled on his back, taking my limp body along.

My hands caressed his furry chest and belly, and I smiled to myself. He was on the wrong side of thirty and the wrong side of the weighing scale, but boy, did he feel right for me. I closed my eyes and heard the sound of our breathing mingling with the whistling wind and the low ticking of the clock. The rain was now a drizzle. The sweat had also begun to dry on our skin.

Unmindfully, I hummed a song, pressing my head against his cuddly chest. I hadn't felt so content in ages.

"What are you singing?" he smiled down at me. I blushed, planting a soft kiss on his collar bone.

"Lying here with you so close to me," I sang softly, "it's hard to fight these feelings, when it feels so hard to breathe... caught up in this moment, caught up in your smile..."

He dropped a kiss on my head. "That's beautiful," he murmured into my hair. "Just what I feel right now."

"Are you sure about this?" I asked, the seriousness creeping into my voice. And then I looked at him with earnest eyes. "Don't be reckless, please."

"I'm not reckless," he said, "I've thought about it. I have an attorney friend who'll help me have my way. And my son."

He folded me in his arms, kissing my shoulders. His chest hair was still damp, and I loved the masculine scent of his sweaty body.

"I know I should've done this long back," he sighed. "But staying apart from her helped me think. And meeting you made me finally admit how I really feel about this marriage."

"You shouldn't be doing this for me," I reminded him.

"No, I'm not. You may be the catalyst, but at the end of the day, I want out." He looked reassuringly at me. "And it isn't just because of you."

He let go of me briefly to discard the condom in the bedside bin and then pulled me close again. I snuggled against his body, feeling warm and sated.

"Are you willing to stay the night with me?" he asked, lazily stroking my upper arm.

"If you're willing to let me." I smiled up at him. "I hope you are?"

"You don't have to ask, really." He kissed the top of my nose. "I hope you aren't hurt."

I shook my head. "This is new for me," I murmured.

"What is?"

"I've never really been in something so... intense. With someone I like this much."

I was aware of Sam's eyes on me. With others, I'd hurry to put my clothes back on, but with him, there was no sense of shame or embarrassment.

He brushed his lips against mine. "You are now."

I sighed gently, loving the feel of his naked body against mine. Then I smiled and nodded. "Yeah."

"Good. I'd like to take you out for dinner this time. Maybe catch a movie." He laughed, his chest vibrating against my face. "I hope you're not going to run away again."

I chuckled softly. "No." And then I shot him an impish glance. "You have to learn how to tame me."

"Oh no. I think I like the loose and wild Cynthia better. Makes you more desirable."

I blushed. "It's great to know that you find me..."

"Passionate? Interesting? Beautiful?"

I laughed softly. "You make me feel like I am all of those things. I thank you for that."

"And you make me happy. So it is I who must thank you."

My eyes dropped shyly. "Tell me about your son," I said, lacing my fingers with his. Even without looking at him, I could sense his smile.

"His name is Kurt and he's five," he said, as his fingers coursed through my hair. "He's at a stage where his world revolves around cartoons, picture books and building blocks. He's started school this year but he isn't responding too well to it."

"Why not?"

"We're not sure. It maybe because of the new environment, or maybe he doesn't like his classmates." He sighed. "I worry about him every moment I spend away from them. My wife is a terrible mother. Impatient. Short-tempered. Once I had to threaten her with police action when she wouldn't stop yelling at the poor kid."

"That's too bad." I raised myself up on one elbow and looked at him. "I assume you fight over him the most?"

"You could say that," he said, feeling the curve of my body. "There's a sort of..."

"Power struggle?" I filled in.

"Yes." He put his arms around me and draped me across his body. "I want to keep him with me. Forever."

"He's closer to you?" I asked.

"Yeah. We love spending time together. I read to him, tell him stories, show him constellations. We also love to dance silly to music and go to the parks."

"Staying away from him must be incredibly hard for you..."

"It is. But my work requires me to go places. I can't sit at home guarding him."

I remembered what he had said the other day. That the worst that could happen to a child was a broken home. And yet, he was heading for just that. All because of me.

A sense of guilt gripped at my heart suddenly. Maybe if we could just forget what had happened between us, if we treated it as a one night stand, he could go back to his family.

And what about you? The little voice spoke inside me again. You love him.

"Tell me about your family," he broke into my thoughts. "Who do you have at home?"

"My mom and my elder sister," I replied. "She doesn't live with us, though. So it's just me and mom at home."

"And your dad?"

"I don't have a dad."

When I looked at him, he found unshed tears glistening in my eyes. His face reflected compassion as he held me tighter. "I'm sorry," his voice was tender, calming.

"You shouldn't do this." My lips quivered as I spoke. "Your family needs you."

"No. My son needs me." He rolled us over so that I was beneath him. "And he's going to have me always."

"But you had said-"

He broke me off with a kiss, rendering me incapable of speech. I felt the tears rolling down my temples, past my ears, and on to the pillow. His probing tongue entwined with its counterpart, making me grip the ends of the pillow case. I had never felt such love, such warmth. Sam was everything I'd wanted my man to be. His tenderness was astonishing, his passion overwhelming. I could give up the whole world just to have a little more time with him, a little more of his love.

"I'll be in London next week," he said, ghosting his lips over mine. "I'm going to talk to my wife, and also to my attorney. I'll let you know, okay?"

I breathed against his chest, flicking the tears off the edge of my eyes with two fingers.

I didn't want to think of that now. For that moment, I wanted to believe that all my dreams had come true.

--

"Look who's here!" mom's voice startled me, and I looked up from the pot of dahlias to see who was there. Julie waved at mom while she walked in and closed the gate behind her. She gave me a fleeting glance and a small smile as she came and stood in the middle of the lawn.

"Wow," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "This place looks and smells lovely."

I measured her from the corner of my eyes. She was four years older than me, taller, fuller than I, with short brown hair. A trail of freckles ran down her neck, making a stark contrast with her otherwise pale skin. If there ever was a contest to judge who was more attractive, my sister would easily take the cake.

"Your sister works so hard for it," mom came up to her and greeted her with a hug. "Have you lost weight? I hope you're not dieting again."

"Mom!" she rolled her eyes. "You ask the same thing every time you see me. I never dieted, anyway."

"Living on cereals and baked beans amounts to dieting," mom laughed. "I'm glad your sister enjoys a good appetite."

It stung me. I wished mom would stop comparing us always. I didn't like it, neither did Julie.

"I know," she sighed, giving me a hard stare. "I haven't had breakfast. Is there anything to eat?"

"I was about to head into the kitchen to make some cheese sandwiches," she replied, turning to go back into the house. Julie grumbled about cheese being fattening as she followed her into the house. When my attention returned to the flowers, I realized I hadn't even finished digging one pot. I had been distracted the past week. Sam and I had spent as much time as we could together before he left for London a few days ago. He had spoken to his attorney about the separation and the eventual divorce he was planning, who had assured him that the process wouldn't be difficult. He had a chess competition, besides his classes at LBS, and if things remained uneventful between him and his wife, he'd manage to discuss the divorce.

I had never been so serious with anybody. But with Sam, I knew it was going to be an intense and emotionally significant relationship. He made me happy. He made me feel special. But most of all, he made me feel alive, made me dream, of the future that could be awaiting us.

I rose from the lawn and picked up the watering can. Mom had noticed my absent-mindedness since she returned from her church retreat. Although she never asked anything, I had a feeling she knew something was happening in my life. I smiled to myself as I watered the roots of the flowers and then sprinkled water on the shrubs and other plants. I wished I could tell everybody about Sam, how nice he was and how happy we were together. But it would have to wait. Until, at least, he legally separated from his wife.

"Honey! The sandwiches are ready!" Mom called me from inside. "Come on while they're still hot."

I plonked the can in its designated place near the porch and took off my apron while walking in. The house smelled of cheese, enough invitation for me to leave everything and attack the sandwiches. I noticed she had also made some jam sandwiches since Julie was reluctant to have cheese.

When I washed my hands and took my place at the table, Julie was already nibbling at one of the jam sandwiches.

"How are you, sis?" she asked, as I took two cheese sandwiches on my plate.

"I'm okay," I replied, "A little busy, as you can see."

"Mom told me about your internship," she said, "They're paying you big, I heard."

"Yes," my smile this time was genuine. I was indeed paid really well. I had worked for a number of companies ever since I joined college, some for free, some for a minimal pay. But this one was the big fish. "It's a top organisation."

"So the good grades are finally paying off, huh?" her voice had a tinge of venom this time. Although mom had raised us with equal affection, attention, and everything else, what she had always failed to do was draw a comparison between me and Julie. I had always been the good girl, both at home and school, getting good grades, diligently following my career path, and being a dutiful daughter. Julie, however, was the Prima Donna of school, a hit with the boys, a pain for the teachers, and best known for being the head cheergirl for the school football team. Being in the same school made matters worse for both of us. While our mother heard my praises at the parent-teacher sessions, Julie only brought her disappointment.

"It's always been too much of work for me," she snorted with a disdainful flip of her hair. "I'd rather have some excitement in my life rather than spend my days in a 5 by 5 cubicle."

"Excitement is subjective," I said, biting into the sandwich. "For me, it is being able to be part of a reputed organisation like that."

"And for me, it is about buying a beach house in Florida."

I stopped chewing and stared at her face for a few seconds. Even if she robbed all the banks in the city, she wouldn't be able to buy a house in Florida.

"You mean to say Bob's buying a house in Florida?" I swallowed my bite and cleared my throat.

"He's buying it for me!" she squealed this time. "Although he'd asked me to be discreet about it, I told him that if I didn't share this with anybody my heart would just burst!"

She poured herself some orange juice and drank a little. "We may live there after we are married."

"Who's getting married?!" mom came down to the dining room after getting dressed for work. The look on her face was priceless.

"Mom," Julie groaned, "I'm not getting married tomorrow. Please stop giving me that look."

"You haven't been together for even a year," she reminded her.

"And we don't plan to marry in another three or four years. Buying the house is just the first step in cementing our relationship."

Robert Lang, Bob to most people, was the scion of a giant business family. According to a certain report I had once read, the Lang family had constructed the most number of buildings in the UK. Buying a beach house in Florida was child's play for him.

"Bring him home someday," mom said, "We'd like to meet him."

"Oh, I've told him. But he keeps so busy, you know. While we talk, he's off to a board meeting. They're planning to expand their business."

She finished her orange juice and wiped her mouth. "He wants to meet you too. He's promised to find some time."

The mention of a board meeting reminded me of my own meeting in about two hours. I grabbed a napkin and jumped out of my seat, wiping my mouth. "I'm sorry, folks. I have to rush. I have a meeting in a while." I ran up the stairs. "I'll see you later."

I dressed in record time, grabbed my phone and bag, and rushed down the steps again. I ran all the way out of the house until my phone started to ring. I slowed down and received the call.

"Good morning, sunshine," Sam's cheerful voice sent a rush of adrenaline down my veins. "Where are you?"

"On the way to work," I said, walking down the pavement. "I've been thinking about you all morning."

"That's called telepathy," he laughed, "I've been thinking about you too."

"Where are you?"

"I'm standing right outside LBS at the moment. I have a class in about thirty minutes."

"I didn't get a chance to look at the paper this morning," I said, "Did you win yesterday?"

"No. Too bad I didn't. It was a draw. I think I was..."

"Distracted?" I chuckled. Sam laughed again. "With you in my head," he said, "what else can I be?"

I laughed softly. "Everything okay at home?" I asked. I didn't have to, but I couldn't bring myself to asking him directly if he had spoken to his wife.

"My son's not doing too well," his voice dropped, turned serious. "I had been with him to the doctor a few times this week."

"What's wrong?" I was at the bus terminus by then, from where I boarded the bus to work every morning.

"He's been running a temperature for a while now. The physician changed his medicines for the second time in a row and he seems okay now. But his appetite has come down to zero. He's barely eating."

"Have you got a blood test done?"

"Not yet. If his appetite doesn't improve soon, we may have to."

I boarded the bus and took a window seat near the back. "You sound worried," I said softly.

"I am worried, Cyn." His sigh poured into my ears, reminding me of the intimacy we had shared that night at his apartment. The thought made my skin flush and dampen.

"Kurt is my life," he continued, "Whenever something happens to him, I feel so overwhelmed."

"He'll be okay," I tried to assure him.

"Yeah. But I miss you so much," he said, "I can't wait to return and have you in my arms again."

"When are you returning?"

"The day after. Will you be able to spare some time for me? I need to talk to you."

"I can meet," I said, "Just let me know once you're back."

"Let's make it Coffee Time, since it's convenient for both of us."

I leaned back in the seat and took a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to see him again. "Coffee Time it is then."

Three days later, I met Sam outside the coffee shop in the evening after work.

"You're back!" I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck as lifted me off the ground in a fierce hug. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." He put me down and leaned in for a kiss. Our lips met and all the heartache and apprehensions of the last few days seemed to vanish into thin air.

"I was worried," I murmured into the kiss.

"Worried?" he pulled away and asked. I played with the buttons of his shirt, smiling coyly. "I was worried you'd forget me."

"Do I ever forget you?" he folded his arms around me, "You're always on my mind, even when we're miles apart."

He looked inside the café through the glass door. "Let's go in," he took my hand in his. "I want to try the crepes here today."

I chuckled as we made our way inside. Sam glanced at me. "What's funny?"

"You shouldn't be having crepes," I said to him when we were seated, "Neither cookies nor cheesecake."

"A man's got to eat, love." He called the waiter and placed our orders. Then he looked back at me. "I'm fond of all things sweet."

"Uh-huh." I chuckled again, my left hand travelling down the table until it reached his belly. "You should be losing calories," I gently tapped his flabby tummy. "Start working out."

"I can think of better ways to burn calories," he held my hand and brought it to his mouth. "You gave me the best workout of my life that night," his lips pressed against my hand, making me squirm.

"Sam," I tried to pull my hand away, "there are people here."

He reluctantly let go of my hand and effortlessly pulled my chair closer to his. "I'm so happy to see you again," he smiled, "Have you been okay?"

I nodded. "How's your son?" I asked.

"He's just slightly better," he said. He appeared to be a little less worried. "It was an intestinal infection. After some medications, his appetite is making a comeback."

He entwined fingers with me on the table. "I asked my wife to not send him to school for a few days, until he gets well enough."

"Why don't you bring him here, with you?" I knew that wouldn't be the best thing for us or for our relationship, but his child needed him. It would always come first.

"There's no one to look after him here," he shook his head. "Not that there are people there... but at least, he's cared for at his school the time his mother's away."