La Vie en Rose {Life in Pink} (41 page)

Slowly, she pivoted and gasped when she spotted her mom and dad and then Rarity. She really needed to start paying more attention. “What are you guys doing here?”

Riley passed his sister Marla’s leash and dropped to his knee.

Oh, my God.

He smiled and produced a small velvet box. “I figured we’d go traditional. Will you make an honest man out of me, Em? I’m a soiled dove and you’re my only hope. I love you. Wear my ring and say you’ll marry me.”

“You jerk,” she laughed as tears sprung to her eyes. “I thought we were just going for a walk.”

“Is that a yes?”

Was he an idiot? “Of course that’s a yes!”

Strangers smiled and clapped, as did her family.

He stood, his arms wrapping tight around her as he kissed her deeply, his hand cupping the back of her neck and pulling her hat clean off her head. They hadn’t kissed like that in ages. The return of his lips to hers broke and healed so many parts at once.

She held his face and kissed him with all the passion she possessed. “I love you so much, Riley Morgan Lockhart.”

“I love you too, Emma Ma’gotes Hobbit toes Sanders gonna be Lockhart.” His forehead pressed to hers pulling her hand into his. “Lem’me put a ring on it.”

Cool metal slid over her finger and she looked down, her jaw unhinging as the diamond glinted brightly in the evening lights. “Oh, Riley...it’s beautiful.”

They turned and their family cheered again, rushing at them in a group hug and attracting the attention of more strangers sharing the deck. People pointed and awed and she wanted so desperately to see what they saw—the beautiful man asking the bald, breastless woman to be his wife.
Love
.

“Smile,” Rarity called and the Polaroid flashed. That one was getting its own page in the album for sure.

The incredible night concluded with dinner. Rarity returned Marla home and met them at the restaurant with Lexi. Emma had her first drink in months and everything played out like a majestic dream—until the cab ride home.

The closer they came to the loft the harder her heart beat. Her gaze returned to the beautiful ring on her finger and her happy fiancé by her side. All signs pointed to perfect—until she looked down.

Rarity went home with Lexi so the loft was empty. They were officially engaged. What couple got engaged and didn’t celebrate with sex? The more she considered the norm, the more pressure she felt and her joy shifted into extreme anxiety.

Her heart wanted to make love to her future husband. She wanted to touch him and look into his eyes and feel his arms around her the way she used to, but now... her body was so detached. Should she do it anyway—for him? For both of them? Maybe just dive in? But what if it hurt—not physically, but emotionally? Too many changes at once. Why hadn’t she had more wine with dinner?

“You okay?”

His question startled her. “Yeah. Fine.”

His fingers laced with hers and squeezed.

She’d keep her shirt on. There. One decision made. There would be plenty of chances to take the shirt off, but for now it was staying on. And the lights were going to have to be off. Darkness was safer. But what if he inadvertently bumped her? They’d been so careful as her fragile body healed. Not only had he been treating her like glass, she still felt breakable.

God, this is just too much pressure. Who can think about sex with all this other crap to worry about?

The cab arrived at the loft and they took the elevator in silence. Marla greeted them when they entered the dark apartment and Riley grabbed her leash. “I’m going to take her down for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time.” Her voice was remarkably calm compared to what was going on inside her head.

He left and she rotated in a slow circle. Glancing down she shut her eyes and groaned. “I can’t do this.”

She walked to her bedroom, and rummaged through her lingerie drawer. Everything was too big and too sexy for her scraggy, flat chested figure. Hate and anger built into such frustration. She’d promised not to do this to herself.

Throwing the lingerie back in the drawer, she slammed it tight and grumbled, “You’re alive. Who cares about this stuff?” But nothing penetrated the pain and sense of absolute inadequacy suffocating her. Opening the drawer again, she removed her smallest teddy, but couldn’t bring herself to look at it.

Dropping to the mattress, she curled on her side and quietly wept. What if she never felt sexy again?

“Em?”

Startled, she brushed at her eyes, not expecting him home so quickly. Maybe if she were quiet he’d think she fell asl—

“What are you doing?”

Shaking her head, she sat up. “Nothing.”

“Hey.” He walked to the bed. Marla followed, giving her a wet snuffle, but she wasn’t in the mood. “I thought we’d watch a movie.”

She laughed, the sound hollow. Of course he’d think that. He probably didn’t want to have sex with her anyway. “Okay.”

He sat beside her. “Are you upset?”

“No.” She was the worst liar.

Slowly, he extricated the crumpled piece of lace from her fist. “What are you doing with this?”

“Using it as a tissue.” That was the truth. Might as well throw all those things away.

He frowned. “Are—are we having sex?”

Shutting her eyes, she shook her head. “I tried, but I can’t.”

“Hey, we don’t have to rush into anything. Cakes, you’re still getting back on your feet. Don’t work yourself up like this. I’m fine. I promise.”

She wiped her nose and stared at him through bleary eyes. “It’s so frustrating. I want to be with you, but I hate my body.”

“Hey, no judging until it’s fully healed. That’s the rule, remember? You have a ways to go still.”

She flopped back on the bed. “I don’t feel my breasts, Riley. They’re numb, because there’s nothing real there.”

He gently lay beside her, his face only a few inches from hers. His hand slowly came to rest high on her chest where her muscle retained some sensitivity. “But your heart’s here. Do you feel that?”

She sniffled and he took her hand, pressing it into his shirt, over his heart. “When we kiss, my heart races. Feel.”

His lips traced hers and her stomach tightened. The vacant sense of nothingness where her breasts used to be overwhelmed her, and she was about to pull away. But his heart pounded under her palm and she smiled, a breathless laugh falling from her lips to his.

His hand slid to her neck. “Being with you was more than boobs, Em. It’s closeness. The feel of my body against yours. The weight of your fingers on my skin. The look in your eyes. The kiss of your lips. The tightness of your touch. The scent of your skin. The sound of your voice. It’s so much more than just sex.”

Her breath shook. “I wish I was prettier for you.”

His head shook as disappointment flashed in his eyes. “Listen to me, Emma. You are the prettiest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. You’re so afraid I’m going to see you and get grossed out. Well, I’ve seen you. I’ve seen you puking your guts out. I’ve seen you covered in bald patches. I’ve seen you go to the bathroom. But when we make love that’s not what I see.”

She wiped her eyes, the reminder of all those undignified moments stabbing deep. “But that’s all I can see.”

His eyes studied her for a long moment and he stood. He shut the door and removed her robe from the back. The sash slowly pulled through the loops as he rehung the robe. “Let’s try something.”

Her stomach knotted with excuses, but she kept them inside as her world went dark and the sash covered her eyes.

“Can you see?”

“No.”

“Good. Try to relax. Just feel, Emma. If you want me to stop say stop and I will. This is just an experiment.”

Protests rang in her head, but she humored him, truly wanting to get over this metaphorical hump. Blowing out a breath, she nodded. “Okay.”

“Good.”

His fingers trailed over her face and she grinned. Like soft flower petals they traced her nose and the raised shape of her lips. His feather light touch skated along her chin, around her ear, and down her throat. She sighed as the tension in her jaw gradually released beneath his tickling touch.

His mouth pressed to hers and she sucked in a breath. He merely rested his lips over hers. The firm pressure was nice. His nose nestled with hers as he shifted. Her shoulder tensed and she winced as she braced for his weight, but it never came.

“I won’t hurt you.”

Fabric rasped and his hand gradually lifted hers. Warm lips pressed to the backs of her fingers, the soft side of her wrist. His lips brushed the skin over her pulse and her toes curled, her insides pulling at the sensual kiss.

He’d never kissed her wrist like that before. The delicate patch of skin was incredibly vulnerable and soft. She really liked his mouth there. He lifted her other hand and did the same as the knot in her belly loosened and tightened in a different way.

Her heart, as he said it would, raced. Gradually, her free hand glided up his arm and, as if drawn there by some unforeseen force, her fingers traced their way to his nipple. Recognition and safe familiarity blanketed her as the tip of her finger deliberately treaded over the tiny nub. Strangely, touching his nipples awakened something inside of her—a sort of mirror play she couldn’t explain.

Rolling her baggy sleeve back, his mouth kissed up the tender inside of her arm on all the soft places she’d never noticed, her throat, her inner elbow, the curve of her shoulder. It was all so sensual.

His hand rubbed back and forth over her thighs, a caress that would bring pleasure to any person. Why had she underestimated the joys of touching? Everywhere he caressed, even through her clothing, felt magnificent.

But her body didn’t react the way it was supposed to. As much as he was stimulating her flesh and awakening her desire, the parts she needed to do this were not cooperating. The doctors warned this might happen, as her hormones were being manipulated by multiple treatments.

“You’re tensing. Stop overthinking, Emma. Just enjoy what’s happening. Am I hurting you?”

“No,” she said, trying to regroup and concentrate on his touch.

“I want to feel you,” he whispered as his hands leisurely slid behind her waistband. “Let’s take off our pants.”

Curious if more would kick her reflexes into action, she nodded. He stripped away her sweats. The rough denim of his jeans slipped away and the wiry hair of his legs pressed to hers as their legs brushed together. His hands cupped her ass and she pressed her weight into the caress.

Cupping. He could cup her there.

His mouth kissed along her throat as he lay on his side, petting and gently groping any curve he could find. The heat of his body burned into hers. Lowering her hand, she followed the contour of his hip until her fingers closed around his heated flesh as he sighed.

“Yes...”

This was unchanged. She could touch him the same as she always had and deliver pleasure equivalent to any other time. His breath became labored, his body seeming to bulk in size, as he trembled under her caress.

Her wrist twisted as she pulled at his flesh. His legs rubbed against hers, as his hips deliberately pressed forward. “Jesus, Emma...”

Every time he whispered her name, or any sort of praise, her need to please him doubled. “I want to see you,” she whispered, pushing the blindfold away.

He eased to his back and she rolled onto her side, stroking him firmly. The muscles of his stomach rippled as his pelvis lifted. His chest expanded the closer he came to his release. Just as she sensed his finish, his fingers laced with her free hand and he squeezed.

His flat belly tensed as his hips flexed and his knees bent. His eyes closed and his lips compressed in ecstasy as she gently finished him. The tension in his body left in a huff of air, as his head collapsed to the pillows and he caught his breath.

“Wow.” He laughed. “I really thought we were just going to watch a movie and go to bed.”

She smiled, a sense of unexpected accomplishment blanketing her. “I’m glad we did this.”

Reaching to the nightstand he snatched a few tissues and quickly cleaned himself up then turned to his side. “Are you...if you want to try, we can...”

“No.” Her body wasn’t reacting properly at the moment and she didn’t want to ruin what actually turned out to be something beautiful. “This was enough for me.”

“Are you sure? I can take care of you. We don’t have to have sex.”

“I’m okay. I think I want to wait a little longer.” She hoped it didn’t take too long.

He kissed her. “I love you, Em. I know this is frustrating for you, but I’m not in any rush. We have the rest of our lives together. Never forget that. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank you for being so patient.” She let out a gusty breath. “I could use a hug.”

He grinned and held out his arms. “Soft or hard? I got everything you need right here on tap.”

“I’ll take the Riley special,” she said, sliding into his arms as they closed firmly around her. His face tucked into her shoulder, his five o’clock shadow scuffing her throat. She breathed him in and shut her eyes.

****

“O
kay, direct eye contact for two minutes, no laughing. Winner gets the last cookie.”

She hunkered down and stared at Riley, her mouth already twitching with the urge to smile. “Go.”

“I can’t believe you’re letting her eat that shit,” Rarity commented from the living room chair and Riley momentarily lost his focus.

His brow wrinkled. “I’m only going to let her eat it if she makes me laugh first.”

“Whatever. You know what I’m talking about,” Rarity grumbled.

Now Emma frowned. “If I want the cookie I’ll eat the cookie, Rarity.”

“It’s your funeral.”

The room chilled and Riley’s eyes hardened like ice. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Rarity kept her eyes on the television as they both stared at her, waiting for an explanation. She shrugged. “You know what that shit does. Sugar shuts down the immune system—”

“I don’t give a fuck about your theories on nutrition,” Riley snapped. “Don’t say shit like that!”

“Well do you give a fuck about her? You two destroyed that entire box.”