“But you were so beautiful, not just with the tits and the legs, but your whole being. You were beautifully strong. And I couldn’t stand that you were so absolutely fucking incredible,” he paused while I laughed, “and yet just frozen. I wanted to be there when you thawed out. I wanted to be the one to thaw you out. Without being stupid like I’d been. And because you were the first…anything, really…that had intrigued me since Corinne’s death, I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
I’d never been so…noticed. It was overwhelming and breathtaking. If I didn’t lighten the mood, the tears would start falling and I really wasn’t good with crying. “You know I’m a sure thing tonight, right? You don’t need all this poetry to put your cock anywhere in me.”
“There’s no doubt that I’m putting my cock places in you tonight.”
I shivered and JC pulled me closer to kiss my uninjured cheek. “You’re also going to have to learn to accept that I love you, Gwen. And my love is big. Now that we’re starting to talk about things, you’re going to be hearing a lot about it. We’ll take it slow, if that’s what you need. But it’s not going to change what I already feel about you.”
I was speechless. It was so much easier to listen to the dirty talk. Like he’d said, guys wanted to fuck the blondes with big tits. Spreading my legs, getting someone off—that, I knew. Big love, on the other hand…
It would take some getting used to. It would take some time.
“Okay, my turn for the question. But let’s get out of here first. We’re turning into prunes.”
I let out a long breath, grateful that JC understood my need for slow love just like I understood his need for slow disclosure. Ironic how I’d been desperate for his affection, and now I didn’t know how to accept the whole of it. But I would. I’d learn. He’d teach me.
There’s no rush, I reminded myself. We have time.
JC got out of the tub first. He wrapped a towel around his waist then, when I got out, he wrapped another around me. “That’s better,” he said when I was fully covered. “Now I can concentrate on what I want to ask.”
I’d rather he couldn’t concentrate. I’d rather we were done with the emotion-filled talking. I’d rather he lifted me on the bathroom counter and had his way with me.
But fair was fair. He’d answered mine. “Go ahead. Ask.”
He put his hands on his hips where the deep lines disappeared under his towel—Jesus, now I was distracted—and asked, “What’s the story with your dad?”
Ah, mood kill.
“You don’t go small or anything, do you?” He was asking for a big divulgence. My father’s whole story should be saved or something. Shouldn’t it?
Or maybe I didn’t have to compete with his secrets. “It’s probably an appropriate question after today.”
JC nodded. Then he shut the toilet lid and sat down, his legs straddling the bowl. He held up a comb and slapped his hand on the spot in front of him. “Tell me while I work on those knots.”
More royal treatment. Big love. I could do it.
“Okay.” I sat on the small space in front of him. Immediately I realized the benefit of this. I could tell him without looking at him, just as he’d been able to tell me without looking at me. I was beginning to think it was him who was absolutely fucking incredible.
I looked down at my hands as he pulled the comb through my hair. “There’s actually not a lot to tell. He worked hard, yet we were always poor. Maybe that’s why he was always so angry, I don’t know. I’m sure his dad hit him too. Learned behavior. He wasn’t so bad when my mother was around. Probably because she let him beat her instead of us.”
I still defended him. It was the craziest thing. I wondered if I’d ever get over that.
I closed my eyes. “After she died, Norma tried to take the role of protector. She stood up to him. She also wasn’t around a lot. She took odd jobs whenever she could to help put food on the table. Then she graduated with honors and got a full ride to Columbia. She tried to see us whenever she could, but we lived in Jersey. It was hard for her to get over there. So we got hit. A lot. I learned how to avoid his worst moods and how to try to keep him happy, but sometimes there wasn’t anything to do but take it.”
JC didn’t say anything. He just kept combing my hair, tugging when the teeth got caught. I leaned away when he pulled, enjoying the bite of pain. Letting that be where I focused my emotion rather than on the pang in my chest that showed up when I started talking about my family.
“Anyway, when I was seventeen, he beat my brother up so bad he had to go to the hospital. Broke several of his ribs. His nose. Punctured his lung. He was twelve. Know what set him off? He saw Ben checking out a man in a magazine underwear ad. I guess he thought he could beat the gay out of him. There’d been a lot of times that social services had been called in our lifetime and things never happened. But this time they did. And Norma stepped up. She’d graduated and had a good job. She got custody of Ben and me until I was eighteen, and Dad went to jail for ten years. He just got out last week. Today was the first time I’d seen him in a decade.”
I don’t know when JC had finished with my hair. I only realized when I was done talking that he wasn’t moving, that both of his hands were on my upper arms, that the comb was on the floor at our feet.
He wrapped his arms around me completely and pulled me into him, his face pressing against mine. And he rocked me. Just rocked me.
I appreciated his silence. It wasn’t pity. It was compassion. It felt good.
I brought my hands up to rest on his arms. “Thank you,” I said, my voice tighter than I’d realized.
JC placed his lips at my temple. “I want to kiss every place he ever touched you. Every spot on your skin that was ever bruised or scraped. As many times as he covered you in hurt, I want to cover you in love.”
“It would take a lot of kissing.”
“I’m up for it.”
I had warring emotions. Part of me wanted to break down and sob. The other part of me was still tingling and turned on. I couldn’t stand the divisiveness. I needed to pick one and let myself be lost in it. “JC, about that kissing, can we do that sooner rather than later? I’m trying to be patient, but—”
He cut me off. “Yes. You’ve been a good girl. Get up. Let me drain the tub, and I’ll join you in the bedroom.”