A Love Like This (29 page)

Julia lifted her head slightly, but she knew
what I intended to do. “Ryan.” She sighed softly, her legs
stiffening as conflict crossed her beautiful features. I could
almost hear the words telling me to stop and just hold her before
she said them “You don’t need…”

“Hush. I do need…” I murmured as I continued
a delicious path of the same wet kisses up her leg and toward my
goal. She knew how much going down on her excited me, and I knew I
could make her writhe and moan within a couple of minutes, or I
could take my time and draw it out. I moved, slowly repeating the
kisses up her other leg, and she fell back, her legs falling open
in surrender. I smiled against the tender flesh of her inner thigh,
intoxicated by her scent as one hand flattened on her stomach and
then slid up to fold around a full breast, kneading and then
teasing the nipple with my fingers. It was already puckered, but it
grew beneath my touch. I let her anticipation grow, kissing the
flat plane of her abdomen below her navel and letting the warmth of
my breath blow over her moist, tender flesh. She tensed, the
fingers of both hands burying in my hair.

My cock was fully engorged, but her reaction
caused my pounding heart to push in more blood until I thought the
skin would split. It pulsed with aching need, but my purpose was
Julia, not myself. I finally let my tongue lave her, and her breath
drew in on a hiss followed by a soft moan, her fingers tugging at
my hair. I was hungry and I let her know it, my hands clutching at
her breasts and then one sliding down her body over her hip to hold
the outside of her thigh. I licked and sucked, first teasing and
then increasing the pressure with the flat of my tongue before
finally sucking her clit into my mouth. I knew exactly how to pulse
the suction to push her over the edge.

“Oh, God,” Julia gasped. “Ryan, come inside
me. I’m so close…”

I could feel the muscles in her legs begin
to tighten and tremor around my head and didn’t want to stop. When
her back arched in orgasm, I moved up on the bed and dove into her.
She was hot, wet, and slick, both from my saliva and her arousal. I
thrust into her hard and fast, my fingers curling into the hair on
both sides of her head as she rode out her orgasm. I took her mouth
hungrily, and she parted her lips, her tongue and mine curling
around each other’s madly. Her body heaved beneath mine, her
internal spasms sucking on my cock with amazing pull. She was
tight, and I was so turned on that I couldn’t go slow or hold back.
The frantic way Julia kissed me and tugged at my hair told me she
didn’t want me to, and three forceful thrusts later, I came hard,
pushing in to the hilt, pouring into her with a low groan. I turned
my head to kiss the side of her face, wanting to kiss her mouth
again. My body jerked and then stilled, my breath ragged and raspy
and Julia’s in soft little huffs. My nose traced her face, and then
I kissed her deeply, my body pushing into hers, wanting her to feel
the passion and love that she alone commanded. Her hands stroked my
back and the hair at the nape of my neck. I was reluctant to break
the connection, but we were cockeyed on the bed, and the covers
were a tangled mess.

“Hold onto me, baby,” I demanded softly, and
Julia complied. My arm underneath her waist pulled her to me, as I
crawled up the bed using one knee. I lowered her down, still
beneath me; my eyes intent on hers. They sparkled in the darkness.
It was unspoken intensity and love that poured between us, the
closeness I depended on like air, once again, in place. I didn’t
need to say it, but I did anyway. “I love you, so much.”

She nodded, the fingers of her right hand
curled, and she ran her knuckles down my cheek, never looking away.
I kissed her once more, softly; our lips and tongues gently
tasting.

My heart filled as I rolled to my side,
finally sliding out of her, but pulling her tight against my body,
and fell into an exhausted sleep.

It was a week before Christmas, and Ryan and
I hadn’t seen each other much in the past few days. He worked late,
and I left early, so we didn’t have much time for conversations,
and I had to be content with brief kisses and hugs when he left. He
never left without kissing me goodbye, and he’d hold me close if we
shared a few hours together in the middle of the night, almost
always making love to me.

My body flushed as images of Ryan’s
lovemaking filled my mind. He was an amazing lover and knew just
how to touch or kiss me to turn me into a quivering, helpless mass.
Even when I was angry with him, my emotions betrayed me and I had
absolutely no choice but to give him every piece of me. Body and
soul. The pleasure he gave in the bedroom was insane, but I missed
just talking to him; hearing about his day or sharing mine with
him. It was like he didn’t want to talk to me about the hospital
and what went on there. The reason was obvious. Last weekend would
have been nearly perfect if it weren’t for those damn calls. After
the last one, Ryan acted so guilty, and even though we cuddled on
the couch, our hands entwined or traced lightly over each other,
the conversation died.

Last night, Ryan mentioned, only briefly,
that he’d asked Jane to be more judicious in her calls. I didn’t
question him further, instead choosing to trust that things would
get better. It didn’t. I could sense Ryan’s discomfort every time
his phone rang. When he did speak to her, his tone was more
understanding than I would have liked. Given her persistence when
he was home, I couldn’t help but wonder how much she stalked him at
the hospital. He barely mentioned her when we were together,
throwing me an apologetic look on the two occasions he did pick up.
Apparently, she and Daniel split, and she had to find a new place
to live, and Ryan, Caleb and a few of the others were going to help
her move, and they were all trying to coordinate schedules.

I tried not to let it bother me, but scowled
despite my efforts. No doubt she would really turn her attention to
Ryan. The hag would probably
accidentally
dump her lingerie
drawers out in front of him
on purpose
, I thought bitchily,
then felt bad that I would even think such a thing about a woman to
whom I owed Ryan’s life. It was exhausting fighting with myself all
the time.

Snow was falling softly outside, and I had
to admit that besides spring, winter was my favorite time in New
York. I loved the lights making the snowflakes glisten as they fell
and how Central Park was like a huge, sparkly white blanket in the
center of the city. I gently pulled out the half-finished portrait
from my portfolio, knowing that when Ryan saw it, any distance
between us would melt away. I brought soft yellow matting board
from work, and the new glass frame sat beside the table ready and
waiting to receive its precious consignment. I brought out the
portrait; ready to add just a touch of color to the soft lead
pencil drawing. I wanted to use watercolors but it required taping
the edges down and leaving it out to dry day after day as I slowly
added subtle layers of color. That wasn’t possible if I wanted to
keep it a surprise, so I resorted to soft pastels. I placed soft
pinks and yellows on the flesh, blending to create the slightest
peachy hue, leaving a slight rosiness to the cheeks and nose.

I was careful not to smudge the delicate
lines of the baby’s face or muddy up the fine strokes of the hair
as I worked to blend in the shades. I glanced down at my
masterpiece; an infant version of Ryan’s eyes, more rounded and
shaded with a dark blue halo around the iris that faded through
jade green to a light, faint yellow center surrounding the pupil,
looked back at me. It was difficult to put much of myself into the
drawing because I wanted so much for the baby to look like Ryan. So
besides the blended eye color, I made the shape of the face and a
bit of the nose like mine, but the mouth, dimples and eyes were all
him.

I wondered if any of our parents suspected
that we were trying. I could hear the question in Elyse’s tone when
I’d called and requested some of Ryan’s baby pictures. She seemed
only moderately satisfied when I told her that I only wanted some
family pictures to make an album for Christmas, her tone
brightening when she said she’d send several. My parents were like
teenagers again, so caught up in rekindling their romance that they
hardly noticed the rest of the world. My heart warmed, and a half
smile lifted my lips.

I held the colored chalk between my thumb
and index finger and used my ring finger of the same hand to
carefully blend, blowing the excess dust off as I went. I
concentrated hard on each feature individually, but when I finally
lay the colors aside, I was able to look at it as a whole. The baby
was breathtakingly beautiful, and my heart literally stopped as I
wiped my stained fingers on a towel.

My heart filled with overwhelming love and
longing for the baby yet to be conceived; remembering Ryan’s words
about his little soul waiting for us in heaven. Wow. I prayed I
could give him a baby as beautiful as the one I’d created on paper.
Excitement raced through me in anticipation of Ryan’s reaction when
he opened it. I imagined a Christmas as magical as the first one we
spent in Estes Park when he’d given me the ‘
I Love You
Because…
’ poem. My intent was to hang it, right beside this
portrait in the nursery. It seemed fitting, and I was certain Ryan
would agree.

By the time I was ready for bed, the picture
was framed and matted. Since I only had two gifts for him this
year, I made sure this one was beautifully wrapped with gold foil
paper and red gossamer ribbons.

Turning a small circle in the middle of the
apartment, I looked for a place to hide it so Ryan wouldn’t find
it. Under the tree were the gifts the families had sent, along with
the pair of shoes I bought Ryan, but this package would be
recognizable as a framed picture, so it wanted to keep it out of
site until the very last minute. A big smile slid across my mouth.
I couldn’t wait to give this to him.

Ryan would like the shoes, and he’d be
disappointed at the impersonal nature of the gift. He’d conceal it
well enough; but I knew him through and through. His eyes would
flood with tears when he looked at the image of our future baby,
not only because of the subject matter or that I’d drawn it, but
because it would prove that I was ready and wanted a baby as much
as he did. My throat tightened, and the back of my eyes burned at
the thought. I didn’t know how I could ever love him more, but
every day that passed, I did.

Suddenly, it dawned on me where to hide the
package.

~9~

After my conversation with Jane, I felt
better, confident there weren’t any misunderstandings. Jane
reinforced that belief five days later when she walked into the ER
with a Macy’s bag with Julia’s perfume already wrapped inside. I
was grateful for the help, and it was easy to slip the gift
underneath the tree later that evening when Julia was working
late.

I couldn’t help digging around underneath
and found a rectangular package with my name on it. It made a loud
but dull thump when I shook it. After placing it back under the
tree in exactly the place I found it, I brought out the padded
envelope that Jenna had shipped by FedEx to the hospital. I opened
it with rapt anticipation.

I let out my breath when I held it in my
hands. Jenna had the framer shadow my writing with crimson so it
looked like the red letters floated and my original writing was
their shadow. The frame was muted gold, and the document was
double-matted in the same shade of gold but with the crimson
showing from the edge of the oval opening around the words. It
turned out much better than I’d expected, and I couldn’t stop
grinning from ear to ear as I looked at it. Julia would probably
bawl her eyes out, I thought happily with a low laugh. She’d love
the shit out of it.