Page 96 of Flawless

“It’s not, but it’s, as they say, one day at a time. I’ve been clean and sober for one year and seven months. Each day is a new battle with a new commitment to live right. At first, I was leaning on you.”

“But now you’ve learned to lean on yourself,” I say.

“Right. And while I don’t pin everything on my new show, I know that I have to live the way that I’m telling these girls to live. I have to be that example, and so many people are still watching me.”

“Yes, but you’re not buckling under the pressure.”

She slowly trails a finger through my hair and says, “I can’t. I’m just me. I’m not trying to be anyone’s definition of who they think I should be. If I don’t meet their standards, oh well.”

“God, I love you, woman!” I groan, lifting her as she wraps her legs around me.

My hands spread her wide, and I lift her just a bit higher. She sinks down onto me, and I close my eyes with a satisfied groan.

I think about our plans for this evening, and I think about how long we’ve been tied to one another in one way or another. Through the years, both of our lives have been marked by pain because of our self-destructive tendencies, and the pain that we failed to deal with.

I want that to end today. Both Dani and I have been attending counseling for the last eight months, and it has proved beneficial.

Thanks to her sister-in-law, MJ, we have been meeting with this wonderful lady named Claire, who lives over on Kiawah Island. We visit her once every other week, and she has been a godsend to us.

“I love you, Dani.”

“I love you, too, Z,” she purrs through her orgasm.

My body tightens as I take everything that she wants to offer me. I fill her up, and she gives me more than I could ever imagine.

When she releases, I release with her, and the bathroom is filled with our moans.

***

“I’m hungry,” Dani says sweetly once I return to the cottage.

We spent the afternoon watching TV, I gave her a back massage, we ate lunch, and then took a nap.

I lied and told her that I was running an errand to one of the local stores and that I would be right back.

“Come on, let’s grab something to eat,” I say, reaching for her hand.

I pull her off the couch and lead her out of the house. When we pass the vehicles and begin heading down to the beach, she says, “I thought that we were going to get something to eat.”

“We are.”

“On the beach?”

“Yes.”

“Is there a party happening tonight?”

“No, there’s not.”

“Then how are you going to feed me on the beach?”

“Trust me,” I tell her as I continue to lead the way.

“Is it a surprise?” she asks. “You know that I don’t like surprises.”

“Baby, just trust me,” I say, even as my gut tightens.

She doesn’t like surprises, but I know that stems from the not-so-good surprises that occurred to her through her earlier years.

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