Page 35 of Passion

“I feel sad.” She looked away, and I cupped her cheek.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to rub it in. I feel as sad as you do. I hate that you’re hurting and I’d do anything to comfort you.” My hand lingered on her cheek, and she took me by the wrist and pulled my hand away. She rested it on her stomach, and I kissed her forehead softly.

“Comfort me?” she asked, except I could tell she was not asking me to clarify, but to comfort her.

“May I?” I asked, kissing her lips. I let my thumb trace over the curve of her breast, and she nodded. “Like this?” I asked, kissing her again. I moved my hand higher, cupping her breast and squeezing it. She nodded again and draped her arm over my shoulder, resting her hand on the back of my head.

My body began to respond the moment she showed interest. Her kisses became firmer. Her lips parted to allow me entrance. I tucked my hand beneath her T-shirt and unhooked her bra’s front clasp. It had only been a few weeks, but I had forgotten how smooth and supple her breasts were. I pinched and twisted a nipple until it formed a hardened peak.

“I missed you,” she whispered as I pushed one side of her yoga pants down over hip. I rose up and folded the blanket back, then tugged her pants and panties off at the same time. As I turned and tossed them, she pulled her shirt up over her head, taking the bra with it. She lay on the mattress, naked and gorgeous, and I tugged my boxers off.

“I missed you too.” I lay down behind her, lifting her leg up over my body. She lay on her back, me on my side. “I never want you to leave me again.” I lined my dick up and found her entrance, then thrust in. She wriggled until I was able to push deep into her, and I leaned down and kissed her.

Her body built moisture as I slid in and out of her. I missed this, the feeling of her strong muscles wrapped around my cock squeezing me. But more than that, I missed her here in this bed next to me. I fondled her breasts and let my hand slip lower to her shaven mound.

“I never want to leave you again,” she said in a hushed voice. I touched her clit lightly, and when I added pressure, massaging her in a steady, slow, counterclockwise motion, she gasped.

“You never have to,” I told her firmly. She pulled me down for another kiss, this time a fierce one, hungry and demanding. I returned her passion with that of my own, twirling my tongue around with hers until we were both panting. She groaned and grabbed my wrist, but I didn’t pull my fingers away from her clit. The faster I massaged it, the more fevered her breathing became. I sped my thrusts too, building toward climax for both of us.

“God, Luke, I’m going to come.” Her grip on my wrist tightened, and I rubbed her faster.

“Good, because I’m going to come too.” I wanted to slow, to pace myself and enjoy this for a while, but she pleaded with me.

“Please, make me come. I’m so close. Don’t stop.”

I reached the point of no return, so I gave it everything I had, smearing my fingers through her wetness and stimulating her clit. My release came, and I flooded her, and only then did she snap. Her chin jutted out as her head arched back. Tiny, guttural sounds reverberated from her lips. She clenched the edge of the bed and groaned, and her pussy clamped down around my cock so hard I had a difficult time pushing into her.

“God… oh, God,” she moaned, and I watched her twitch and spasm.

“Good girl,” I told her, fondling her breast again as she shook the bed with her convulsions.

The shift from her sadness to this was all I needed. I had comforted her, at least for now, and that was what I'd set out to do. She lay there panting, her temples moist with perspiration, and I pulled out, letting our sex puddle between her legs. She rolled to her side and backed against my chest.

I lay there holding her as she fell asleep, but it dawned on me that she hadn’t asked for a condom. She had all but demanded it every time we had sex, except that first night nearly ten weeks ago. My wheels turned as I pulled the covers up over us and curled back around her. The moodiness, her not feeling well… my thoughts led me to believe one thing. Perhaps she was hiding a secret so upsetting that she had no clue how to tell me.

My heart sank. She had explained how careful she had to be to not get pregnant because it would mean her career was over if she did. I rested my hand on her stomach and let my imagination run wild. If she was pregnant and hiding it from me, there was a chance she wasn’t sure if she wanted it. Or maybe I was just jumping to conclusions, but it made sense. I wasn’t about to say anything to her, though. It wasn’t my place. But the thought of being a father had a certain pleasant ring to it.

For now, however, I was content to hold her and enjoy the fact that she was in my arms again. I’d think about the rest some other time, when she was ready to open up to me.

29

VERA

Itried. God knows how hard it was to not feel totally exhausted and overwhelmed emotionally. My body was being inundated with messy hormones and feelings. I had noticed my stomach wasn’t as flat as I was used to. I also noticed my appetite had increased and my boobs were always sore. Nothing felt right anymore, and nothing fit right, either. I had been wearing a 34C, and now every time I bent over, I fell out of my bra.

I stared at the lacy contraption they had me dressed in for this lingerie shoot, but I wasn’t comfortable. No one would have noticed my tiny tummy bulge unless I pointed it out. They’d airbrush it and that would be that, but I would know. I grimaced and turned away from the mirror. My face didn’t even look like my own face today. The dark circles from lack of sleep had to be covered by extra layers of makeup, but nothing could improve how my eyes drooped.

“What’s going on?” Mr. Fink frowned at me. “You are draggin’ ass today, kid. We need you out there on your best game.” He shook his head.

“I’m feeling tired a lot.” I bit my lip. The photographer had said the same thing earlier, that I wasn’t myself—I had “no energy”. In the modeling world, it meant my charisma was gone. I wasn’t being photogenic.

“We’re counting on you out there to smash this one out of the park. It’s literally for one of the largest lingerie producers in the US. If you nail this, you could be a Victoria’s Secret Angel.” His slap on the back didn’t encourage me at all. In fact, the way he insinuated that was the direction he wanted me to go made me feel ill. My body would never look good in lingerie again, not by this industry’s standards, anyway. I was certain Lucas would still love everything about me once I had stretch marks and extra skin, but models were held to a much higher standard.

“Uh, Mr. Fink, I really need to tell you something.” My insides shook as I realized that my mouth had volunteered to start this conversation without my brain’s approval.

“What’s that?” He opened a stick of gum and popped it in his mouth, then pocketed the foil wrapper. His chewing grated on my nerves, but I said nothing. Though I did cringe at his food sounds which turned my stomach.

“I, uh… Well,” I stuttered, unable to find the words.

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