Page 44 of The Caretaker
His features warped through my burgeoning tears, because if it weren’t for not regretting a single day that I got to love Gavin, I would have wished Noon had found me first too. That he’d gotten to me before Patrick. In a perfect world, I would have rewritten history, and Gavin would have been ours.
I kissed the corners of his wet eyes as we fucked, as we shared sweat and tears, as we realized that this moment was about more than just sex, much more than two lonely souls finding solace in one another. We were healing ourselves, making each other new.Thiswas how it should have been. This was what I’d been missing.
“Come, Solace. Now.”
My control snapped with his whispered permission, my hand seeking out my erection. Noon swooped in to devour my cry of orgasm, of freedom, of…happiness.He bucked into me twice more before stilling, his mouth opening and closing as his own release clawed through him and into me.
My heart was so full I thought it might explode from my chest, and all I could do was hug him tight, letting his rapidly beating heart connect with and speak to mine. The tremors started for the both of us soon after, and all we could do was touch, kiss, and cry together. I’d never felt this stripped down tomy foundation before, this raw, and that had to do with never feeling safe enough to do so. Noon made me feel safe. I knew I could trust him with my heart, my most prized possession. Because he’d handled it with such good care thus far, when he didn’t have to.
We’d crawl out of this bed as blank canvases, and I couldn’t wait to see how we’d reinvent ourselves. Together, if I was lucky. We hadn’t spoken about, or looked, that far into the future, but I hoped.
He carried me to the shower, cleaning me under the hot spray after meticulously checking to make sure my body had survived him unscathed. Our wedding bands clinked as we entwined our hands while we kissed. I couldn’t get enough of his lips, couldn’t get enough of the way he seemed so desperate for me.
We peered down at our joined hands at the same time. Without prompting, we twisted and pulled, even adding soap, until we were free of the bands that chained us to a painful past. We watched them fall and roll toward the drain. We were ready now. Ready to see who and what we’d become.
“Let him have her,” he said, smiling as the water cascaded down his face.
“Let her have him,” I said, his happiness contagious. I caressed his smile, and he touched mine as he backed me into the shower wall.
The same shower where, just a few hours ago, I’d been trying to scrub away the insecurities caused by watching Patrick belittle me in our home videos. Noon, being Noon, read my thoughts before strolling over to the shower shelf for the bottle of lube there. We were about to make a new memory that would obliterate all the previous ones.
“How many more rooms do we have to go?” he asked as he hoisted me up. I wrapped my legs around him, holding on to his broad shoulders as I sank onto his cock.
“At least 7,” I said, voice husky. “More if you count the garage, the front yard, the backyard…” I trailed off on a moan as we began moving.
“I say we count them all,” he replied, pinning me to the tiled wall.
I handled him a bit easier now, but “easier” and “with ease” were not the same thing. I didn’t think I’d ever be penetrated by him and not be aware that something sinfully intrusive had taken control of my body.
I welcomed the hard work of taking him, though, because I refused to believe that my body wasn’t made for him, and because he deserved someone who would work hard for him. He deserved me, and I deserved him. I wanted him, wantedallof him. Every. Damn. Time.
Noon
Now
THE LIGHTING FORthe photo shoot finally arrived, and Solace left me to get things set up in the living room while he went to change into the first look of the day. Photography came naturally to me, but staging for a shoot was a different realm. When I’d expressed my concerns to Solace, he’d told me in that Zen way of his to not take things too seriously. To have fun with it.
I started with a white backdrop and a tall wooden stool. Solace didn’t need a lot of frills, he was captivating all on his own. Anything outside of him wouldn’t hold anyone’s attention anyway.
I’d just finished repositioning the soft-box lighting for the tenth time when Solace descended the stairs, his vintage black and white oxfords clicking against the hardwood.
“The setup looks great,” he said.
“So do you,” I replied, sweeping my gaze over him. He’d gone with a classic look. Black turtleneck and matching trousers that fell to the ankles. His abstract dress socks were nothing more than a tease. With his hair cinched into a braided bun at his nape, there was nothing to distract from his hypnotizing eyes. We were staring at each other, or rather, I was gawking at him while he observed me do it. I didn’t care. I stopped caring weeks ago after being caught one too many times.
“Guess your crash course came in handy,” he said absently, still watching me watch him.
I cleared my throat, willing some professionalism into it. “A little too soon to claim victory, don’t you think?” The equipment being on backorder for three weeks had turned out to be a blessing. It’d given me the opportunity to study up on how to use it, and to work on my craft. Solace had also been a well of information, offering me tips and tricks of the trade.
“You’ve got this,” he said. Those three words, and the sweet conviction behind them, elevated my confidence.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“I don’t know. Make me believe I can do anything.” I marveled at his skill to do so.
Solace shrugged. “Because you can. And because someone once helped me to believe the same thing about myself.”
