Resplendent (11 page)

“You know that sudden drop in your stomach you feel when you ride a roller coaster?” he asked. I nodded. His lips brushed mine. “That’s what I get when I kiss you, but better — and I
really
like coasters.”

“I know what you mean,” I said, honestly. Andres could cause my legs to quiver just by using his lips. His nose nudged my neck to give him better access and I complied. My fingers got lost in his hair and when he nipped at the bottom of my earlobe, I pulled my hands down to grab the hem of my shirt. Andres froze and looked at me. I glanced into his eyes, a look of want and exhaustion, as I pulled my shirt over my body. I arched my back so I could take it off completely. When he opened his mouth I pressed my lips to his. They were warm and inviting and we savored each other. His movements stopped when I lifted the bottom of his sweater, and touched the dip in his lower back. He gave me a peck on the nose.

“This isn’t why I came here, Peach.” He looked at me, breathlessly, and all of his self-control slowly slipped away from his eyes. I nodded and ran my hands under his shirt, exploring his firm abs. I knew he hadn’t come to see me for sex, but now that he
was
here, it felt right. He continued kissing my lips — soft, quick kisses as he unclasped my bra. I lifted up my shoulder to take it off and threw it on the floor.

“I want to get lost for a second,” I told him, my heartbeat furious in my chest. “I want to forget there’s a world with cancer and death. A place outside these four walls where time is against us.”

He traced my lips with his thumb, and I held his hand in mine. “I need you too,” I said.

“Would you still want me in the future as much as you do now?” he asked and I pulled back, puzzled by his need for confirmation. He’d never brought something like this up.

“Of course, Dre.”

I grabbed his shirt and began to tug when he started to lightly tease my nipples with his fingers. I leaned my head back against the pillow and let out a soft moan.

“God, Peach, I forgot how good you sound when you moan,” Dre whispered in my ear and then lowered his lips further to suck on my neck, then my collarbone and then down between my breasts. He palmed me with one hand and gently nipped the bottom curve of the other. He sucked and teased, pulled and licked every inch of my left nipple with his mouth, while his fingers played with the right. I whimpered and subtly arched my spine, giving him better access. I placed my hands over my head. He paused to take off his sweater and T-shirt, his gaze never leaving mine. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and with Andres, I felt stunning. My dark hair was fanned around my face and my brown eyes were at half mast. I was topless, my milky white breasts displayed for him. The tiny pink pajama bottoms I wore were low enough to show him my belly ring, and he tugged on the waistband as I lifted my butt for him to peel them off. Once I was completely naked, his lips parted and his eyes raked me from my lips down to my legs and back up again. He swallowed and slowly unbuttoned his jeans, never stopping from looking at me. By the time he removed the rest of his clothing he was ready. My own eyes took in the reward of his naked body. Boy, was he ready.

My body hummed. I was ready too. I’d waited so long. But would he like it with me? What if he
didn’t
like it at all? God, I didn’t want to think about that.

He spoke with hesitation. “I didn’t bring condoms.”

I sat up and grabbed his hands, pulling him gently onto the bed, on top of me. He was resting on his elbows and trying to keep his body weight off of me. I could feel his hardness on my belly. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes.
Just breathe.

“Open your eyes,” he demanded and kept his gaze on me. He ran his fingers along my temple and gently over the side of my face.

“I want you to look at me while I make love to you,” he said with a tender smile on his face.

He shifted his body so that my legs would open wider before he slowly started to enter me.

I grabbed onto his forearms and tensed up, anticipating the pain that I knew would come. Dre froze.

“Peach?” he whispered. I didn’t answer. I felt like closing my eyes again but knew he’d ask me to open them. I pulled in my bottom lip instead.

“Never?” he asked. That was all he said and my cheeks flushed. I was suddenly embarrassed. I had no idea what I was doing, and I swallowed the golf ball in my throat, willing myself not to cry.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

He frowned. “Sorry?” He passed his nose along my jaw, then cheeks, then nose.

“Oh Peach, don’t you know how much I want you?”

I answered him by pressing my trembling lips to his and wrapped my arms around his neck. He groaned and ran his palms down my sides, squeezing my waist. I pulled back for air and he took advantage, kissing my shoulder and sucking hard.

I moaned a little too loudly, and Dre covered my mouth with a kiss. “Shhhh.”

He continued to kiss my shoulders, my neck, then below my ear.

I trailed my fingers slowly along his spine, all the way down to his backside and gave him a squeeze. An aching occurred between my legs where Dre was rubbed up against my most sensitive area. I tried to focus on my breathing.

He buried his face in my pillow and groaned.

“Peach? What do you want?” he said, muffled against my neck.

I moved my mouth to his ear and lightly bit his earlobe. “Everything.”

Andres moved his hand down between my legs and ran his fingers between my wet center. His nostrils flared at his discovery, and I could see the fire in his eyes.

He tugged on my lips with his own and rested his elbows with a palm on either side of my face.

“You have the best lips,” he said with a delicate sweetness, tracing an outline with his finger. “Do you know that?” he continued and slowly inched his way inside of me.

I shook my head. “I didn’t know that,” I whispered.

“No? I’ll have to remind you often.” He inched himself inside me a little bit more and moved his fingers to the corners of my eyes. “And you have the most beautiful face.”

When I didn’t answer, he inched himself some more, almost halfway in. I squeezed his forearms and tried to relax.

“It’s true.” He brushed his lips, whisper soft, along my skin and I knew that the next part would hurt.

“I love
everything
,” he stated and entered me, fully. My eyes squeezed shut as a small tear escaped.

Andres caught it with a kiss. “I’m sorry, Peach.”

I leaned my forehead to his chest and hugged him tighter.

He waited a few seconds and then pulled out slowly. Then entered me again, keeping the same speed.

Taking his time, giving my body time to adjust to him inside of me, he moved as slowly as he could.

“You okay?” he asked, concern in his voice.

I nodded and lifted my hips slightly, letting him know I wanted him deeper in me.

“You’re so tight, Peach, so beautiful.” His gaze warmed my skin, and he kissed me, sucking on my bottom lip, playing with my tongue. At one point he kissed me hard and yet, still took his time to savor me.

“What does it feel like … for you?” I asked, hoping he felt even a fraction of how good it felt for me, in my heart.

“Like heaven.”

I smiled, and he grinned back. “You don’t know what heaven feels like.”

“I do now.” He moved his nose to the crook of my neck and breathed me in. The gesture reminded me of a younger Andres.

“I’ve never done it bare. You feel so good. Like you’re made for me.” All the while he moved his hips in and out in a perfect rhythm. I placed my hand on his heart and was surprised that it was pounding.

“I need you … I miss you ... I love you,” he whispered. The urgency in his voice was something I’d never heard from him, and I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to say.

My fingers caressed his back, feeling every ridge of muscle contract with each advance.

“I’m about to come,” he told me and leaned in to place his lips on mine.

I held his face and stopped his kiss so I could look in his eyes.

“In,” I told him, and the slight shift in his eyes made it clear that he understood.

He pressed his face to my chest and held me tight, picking up his pace and going faster until he couldn’t hold back anymore. A deep rumble escaped his throat as his movement stopped and he released inside of me. His eyes lazy and lips parted, I could hear a slight shortness of breath. We held each other, connected in a way that we’d never been before, yet it felt right. It felt like home.

“Damn, you feel good,” he murmured minutes later, still inside of me, his forehead against my neck.

He looked up at my face. “Peach?”

I traced the stubble along his jaw and nodded. “I’m fine.”

I was sore but content. He covered my mouth with his and parted my lips, kissing me with such frenzy, as if it would be the last kiss of his life.

Finally he pulled out and pecked me on the forehead.

“Where’s your bathroom?” he asked.

“Right next to my room.”

“Stay here — I’ll be back,” he said.

“Okay.” I smiled at his words … as if I would think about going anywhere.

He put on his jeans and came back with a hand towel from the bathroom and kneeled in front of me. “Open.”

I pressed my knees together and dragged the covers up to my neck, suddenly shy after what we had done. The endorphins escaped my body.

He placed his hand on my knee. “Peach? You’re perfect. Don’t be embarrassed.”

I opened up, and he gently cleaned me, leaving with a hint of pink on the towel, though not as much as I expected. I put on my panties and a tank top. He curled up next to me, dragged my body so my back was facing him and pulled the covers over us.

“No one can compare to you, Peach.” He kissed my cheek and I snuggled closer.

We wrapped ourselves in each other, in silence for a moment, catching our breath. I held on to one hand while he trailed circles on my stomach with the other. How much time did we have? What would happen when we got to Miami? Brittany would realize I’d been lying, but she’d understand as soon as I explained to her who Andres was, and what he meant to me. I held his hand in mine and squeezed. Goodbyes are never easy. I wanted to be closer to him but I wasn’t sure how it would work.

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts; I hadn’t noticed his breathing was heavy. I turned my body to rest on my back, slowly, to not disturb him. It didn’t matter; he was completely gone to the world. I gave him a soft kiss and saw the crease on his forehead go away. He mumbled something incoherent and pulled me closer. We left together first thing the next morning.

Birthdays are easy — even though I know some people don’t care. You still receive the phone calls, the presents, and the big productions. What about anniversaries of death? Those are the hard days that no one brings up. Is death’s wish for you to be silent? To bury your thoughts deep and let the years come and go? As if time dulling the pain is a substitute for people forgetting how hard it can be for you. My parents won’t know their grandkids; they never will. Well, death might take lives, but it doesn’t take memories.

November first was my hard day. The day I buried my dad.

It was just four short days after visiting Peach in Boston. She had flown back with me as promised early the next morning, and we made it just in time to spend six hours with his unconscious body before he went to heaven. In four days, I spoke to my father for the last time, made love to the most beautiful woman in my world and came back home with her, only to bury my hero. You ever ask yourself how much you can get done in a week? If you ask me, that’s a whole hell of a lot.

I stood in the middle of what was soon to be my ex-living room, to take in my surroundings. My eyes fell on my grandmother’s handmade quilt. She’d always place it strategically over the armrest of our brown leather three-seat sofa, in an effort to cover a cigarette burn. Then I noticed his oxygen concentrator machine resting on top of the dark walnut coffee table, which I suddenly had the urge to kick. Various pictures hung on the wall, and my eyes zoned in to one of my mom and dad together. I felt a sliver of comfort knowing that my mom wouldn’t be alone anymore. She’d welcome my dad wherever they were. I thought about them for a moment. Were they dancing to Frank Sinatra, their favorite musician? Was she teasing him because she knew he had forgotten to pay the electric bill last month? My father was brilliant, but man, how could he forget to pay one of the most important bills? Maybe they were watching down on me with worry, wondering how I would manage to take care of the family. Perhaps they were the reason I was standing — they were strengthening me from afar.

I cracked my neck and reached into my pocket, pulling out his old lighter. It was silver-toned and in the shape of a woman’s body. I remembered the day he showed it to me. He was grinning like a dirty old man, only he wasn’t one. He was just being a guy who smoked and wanted a funny lighter. I had it at the viewing last night and the burial this morning. I didn’t take it out. I kept it hidden — my little secret memory of my father. It was a reminder of his sense of humor and the addiction that cost him his life. Truth was, the very best conversations we ever had were outside on the porch, during one of his smoking breaks.