Thunder In Her Body (16 page)

Devoid of all reason in this moment; filled with unquenchable love for this beautiful man, she realized she must wash him, in the same careful way.  As he knelt there, naked and humbled before her, with palms upturned, as vulnerable as a man could be, if she chose, it was her turn to wash his body.  It was her turn to complete the service.

The hesitation was long and frightening for Blaze, but he never moved.  He only looked into her eyes – and waited.
  She scooped up the water and he bowed his head.  She poured it atop his head and released his hair from its tied hold.  She poured water over his face and rubbed his face gently with her finger tips.  Over one broad shoulder then the other she poured water and as it ran down his chest, she rubbed it in delicate circles.  Again she scooped up water and poured it over his back and she rubbed the hard muscles.  More water she poured over his buttocks and she kneaded the round, firm orbs as though kneading the most delicate dough made by woman.  She cupped the water in both hands and poured it over his mat of hairs and stroked it down his semi-flaccidness.  She scooped up more water and lifted his testicles into the pool of water in her hands then rubbed the water down the inside of his thighs.  At the end, she poured water over his thighs and helped the water course back into the tub.  And she cried.  Tears ran from her eyes as she experienced the enormity of this moment.  She had bound herself to this man in the Spirit world – forever.  And she had done it willingly.

He stood up, stretched both hands out to her and lifted her to her feet.  From the small, rustic table he pulled a big bath towel and patted her dry.  She did the same to him, using the same towel.  The symbolism of all this made her legs weak.  What have we done, she asked herself?  She knew.  She had the answer to his earlier question – what is this?  This is pure, unquestioning love.  He led her across the bare floor to the narrow bed.  No words were spoken.  She laid back and brought her feet up onto the covers.  He bent and kissed her ear, then the other, then her forehead and her nose.  Something beat against her outstretched arm as it lay across his lap.  He stopped for a second and reached for the pocket in his jeans. Overcome with emotion, and surely love for this beautiful man, she spoke.

“No,” she whispered.  “No, not this time.  There will be nothing between us,” she murmured.  In the delirium of this event, she ignored caution.  She forgot what the caution was all about.

“You don’t want to take any chances with…,” he tried to reply.

“Our blood and everything else is in someone else’s hands tonight.  Whatever we have, we will have together,” she said in a husky voice.  “I am safe with you.  You are safe with me.  Tonight the spirits will protect us; the ancestors will watch over us and let no harm come to this union,” she said as she pulled him onto her.  She spoke from somewhere deep inside of herself.  She uttered words that he could have said.  Had her unknown ancestors put those words into her mouth?

There was a special beauty in their coupling on this night.  It was as though a great service was being held in another-worldly basilica.  They felt light, not heavy upon one another.  They moved in slow, glacially slow synchronization.  As he breathed out, she breathed in; as he rose, she lifted.  They stroked each other with fingertips delicate and sensitive.  They constricted then released muscles easily, separately, jointly.  They rolled in incredible undulations straining not to let even the tiniest space on their bodies part.

As he moved her toward agonizing ecstasy, her arms reached for the steadiness of the metal headboard and she let him bring on those incredible sensations that wracked and ravaged, then soothed her body.  She moaned pitifully, helplessly, and then let her hands slip slowly away from the cold metal.

Knowing not where the strength came from, she gently rolled him over, onto his back and she eased herself atop him like a leaf fluttering down from a tall tree.  She lowered herself easily, gently, slowly – ever so slowly, down onto him.  And now it was he who grasped onto the metal above him and he let her rock him back and forth, back and forth, slowly, smoothly, evenly.   He closed his eyes and laid his head back in that mane of silky, raven hair and let her do with him what she pleased.  She kissed his chest.  She took each aureole between her lips and moved her tongue ever so slightly over the rounded surfaces, never ceasing her movements.  And when his chest started to rise higher, she raised up her torso, reached down and grasped his hips with her strong hands, and she began to apply more pressure to her rolling motions.  She rose and fell with a smooth, steady cadence.  She tightened the muscles everywhere below her waist, and she rose and fell.  With one mighty heave he thrust himself up – with one mighty motion, he rolled himself back onto her, his eyes now wide open, sweat running down his throat.  He slid one arm under her neck and with the other arm he groped for and found the cold metal headboard above them.  And he drove himself, deep within her, pulling her, raising her up toward the head of the bed, pressing her until a gurgle rose up out of his throat.  His head arched backward, his spinal muscles contracted and he shook and jerked as though being hit by a bolt of lightening.  He let out a cry of ecstasy as his muscles held him involuntarily immobile.   And then frozen in place, he tried to recapture his breath.  She reached up and touched his lips.  Then put her arms around him and began to stroke his back – gently, ever so gently.  He lay down on her, careful not to smother her, and she stroked his back until all tension was released.

They crawled beneath the soft sheet and the warm covers.  He spooned himself behind her and wrapped his arm over her.  She was loved, she was safe, she was happy.  He was hers.  She belonged to him.  She held her legs tightly together.  They could have waited, should have waited, but they had been flesh to flesh and she had the sacred gift from him within her.

C
HAPTER 10

       
¤

Tuesday Morning

L
ynette laid next to Blaze watching him sleep.  She was smiling for no one to see.  It was a smile of incredulity, of contentment.

Four days ago she was driving on Highway 25 extolling the virtues of singledom.  The independent woman, free to soar.  The manless world with no complications.  Yep, that’s what she was saying then
.  Now look at me,
she said to herself.  Had the instantaneous attraction and outlandishly satisfying sex stripped her of mind and reason?  She didn’t have any good answers to the questions she asked herself.  All she knew was that this man was awesome – good, decent, kind, gentle, smart, caring, strong, independent, wise, grounded, intuitive, worldly, and he had opened up his world to her.  He’d brought her into a world filled with unselfish love, deep passionate, awe inspiring bliss.  She was so happy with what she was feeling, yet a bit apprehensive because she had never known this kind of elation, nor this kind of abandon.  Her life had been cautious, predictable, sane.  Now she was married in a realm that most people knew nothing about;  in a spiritual bond with an almost stranger.  Yet, he wasn’t a stranger.  He had been a stranger four days ago.  Now he was her lover, her partner, her husband.

He stirred and noted the sunlight dancing its way through the distorted windows panes.  He rolled over, and pulled her in to him, draping one big, beautiful leg over hers.

“It’s gonna be a blessed day,” he said, taking that kind of deep breath that epitomizes contentment.  “And you are my blessing,” he said to her, rubbing her shoulders.

“A blessed day.  Isn’t that what Baptists say?” she asked jokingly.

“Baptist, Methodists, Catholics, it doesn’t matter.  If you are blessed by the hand of the Creator, it will be a blessed day,” he said, smiling at her.

Lynette believed in blessings, the way Christians do.  However, she believed in a Universe that incorporated more than what the “typical” Christian held as limitations.  A dear friend’s husband had described her beliefs as akin to Buddhist theology – and that was all right with her.  She believed in an after life; she also believed in multiple lives.  That the soul lives many lives in its quest to return to whence it came, to God.  She believed in Karma, in the Universe’s way of creating balance.  She believed in good and evil, but she no longer attributed people’s bad or cruel behavior to the devil.  The devil is the evil that people do.  She believed in energy and that if you send out negative energy, it will come back to you.  And conversely, sending out positive energy will surely bring that good energy back to you.  Is this what had happened?  Is this why Blaze had come so abruptly into her life?  Was this her good energy finally coming back to her ten-fold?

She nuzzled him as he struggled to wake fully.

“You remind me of a dog I used to have,” he said sleepily.

“Was he a good dog?” she asked, taking no insult from the analogy.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Was he a faithful and loving dog?” she asked again.

“Yes, he was,” he said, pulling her in even closer to him.

“Did he make you happy?” she continued.

“Terrifically,” he responded.

“Did you lo…,” and she caught herself before she said the word.

He opened his eyes wide, and looked at her with the most angelic smile,

“Yes, I…,” and she put her hand over his mouth

In all that had transpired between them, particularly last night, the word “love” had not been said.  Did she think the word?  Yes.  Had she said it; had he said it?  No.  They were too busy experiencing it.  They almost didn’t
have
to say it.

“Are you afraid of that word?” he asked her, pondering the expression on her face.

He pulled himself up into a sitting position and braced his back against the cold metal head board.  He pulled her up near him and draped a mound of the quilt around her to keep her warm on this chilly morning.

“Yes, in a way,” she answered honestly.

“Do you believe in previous lives?” he asked with a real seriousness in his tone.

“Yes, I do,” she replied.

“So do I,” he said, “and I believe that we get the opportunity in present or future lives to be with some of those we’ve met before.”

Completing this concept of his and her belief system, she added, “that we get to work out some elements of those lives that were left unfinished, or learn the lessons we didn’t fully learn before.”  He pushed her slightly away and looked down into her face.

“My God woman, you have my heart, and now you know my thoughts.  What did I ever do to deserve you?” he lamented, and he hugged her tightly up against him.

“
Lynn.  I have the right to feel it.  I have the right to say it.  I love you.  I love you,” he said with heartfelt passion.  “It’s not the sex.  It’s you.  It’s all of you and I can love you before I know everything there is to know about you,” he said laying his face against her soft, tossled hair.

“The question is, can you love me, flaws and all? …and I’m willing to wait for that answer until you’re ready to give it, trust me,” he finished.

There was a long silence.  An uneasy silence.   She sat upright next to him, pulling the comforter securely around her shoulders.  Then she spoke.

“If the improbable joy I feel in my heart, if the overwhelming passion I feel for you, if the fact that you occupy my every waking thought, if the way I just want to be with you and no one else, if the fact that I have thrown all caution to the wind and abandoned sanity and propriety, if the fact that my world sings at just the touch of you, if I want to cry at the sight of your naked body, if I am willing to give you everything I have and everything I am, if marrying you last night means I’m in love with you, then yes, Blaze Snow Comes Down, I do love you.  I truly love you.  And I want to love you like this for the rest of my life,” she answered, throwing her arms around his neck.

She slipped down his body so she could lay her head on his chest and listen to the beat of his heart.  She started to cry, but it was a cry of joy. There she had said it.  She had admitted that she loved him.  She sat straight up again, to wipe the tears from her face and as she did she looked up at him, and saw the tears rolling down his cheeks.   Straddling his legs, she pulled her naked self up onto her knees, now oblivious to the cold.  She looked at that face and kissed one streak of tears, then the other.  She kissed his eyelids, his nose and ended with his firm, beautiful lips.  It was a tender and loving kiss.  He stretched his arms out wide and enfolded her into them, holding her adoringly against his body.

“I will love you like this until the last,” he whispered in her ear.  They stayed there like that for a long time.  There was nothing more to say.

After loading up what remained of their possessions, and making sure no trash was left anywhere, they climbed back into the big silver truck.  Blaze stuck the key into the ignition then turned to Lynette and asked, “Now do we get officially married in a civil ceremony, or do we just date?” he laughed.
  Lynette wasn’t sure how to answer.  She hesitated and said, “I’m yours now; you’re mine.  We continue to learn more about each other and we build a strong foundation for this life we’ve chosen together.  We’ve breezed past the dating phase, we’re now into
together.
”  It was a sensible answer.  Ordinarily, she was a sensible, pragmatic woman.  She hesitated again.