Page 67 of I Dreamt That You Loved Me
I gave him a drunken smile even though my lips hadn’t touched a drop of liquor. I felt delirious and intoxicated. “We’ll need a twelve-step program when this is over.”
“What do you mean,over? I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “I got you something.”
I followed him to the kitchen, and he handed me a brown paper bag.
I peeked inside, hoping it was cookies or chocolate but no, it was…a pomegranate?
I took the fruit out of the bag and inspected it like it was a foreign object. “Uh, thanks? What am I supposed to do with it?” I pretended to wind up like a pitcher on the mound, aiming for the open window.
He took the piece of fruit out of my hand and pulled a serrated knife out of the drawer. “Sit in the bathtub,” he commanded.
“Is this like a hidden kink or something?” I asked as I climbed into the tub and draped my arms over the sides. I felt slightly ridiculous in my lingerie and thigh-high boots but sometimes you just had to own it.
Tonight, I was the temptress. Eve waiting for Adam to feed her forbidden fruit. Anyone who thought it was an apple was clearly mistaken.
How tempting was an apple? I’d be able to pass on that easily.
Gabriel turned from the counter holding half of a pomegranate and when he knelt next to the tub, I told him my theory.
“Of course, it was a pomegranate. It’s the sexiest fruit. Besides, Adam and Eve were in the Middle East. The Garden of Eden wasn’t an apple orchard,” he scoffed. “Open your mouth.”
I did as he said and he fed me the ruby fruit, deftly removing each seed from the flesh and sliding it between my parted lips. “Those dexterous fingers of yours.”
“Those damn lips of yours.”
I closed my eyes and moaned each time he fed me another one. I really played it up too. The neighbors probably thought there was a porn star living in 5B. “I could get used to this.”
“Next month I’ll feed you figs, Patra.”
“Patra? I’d prefer cherries or peaches.”
“A nickname for Cleopatra. How about passionfruit? We’ll have our own little fruit of the month club.”
I sighed. “That’s so romantic. But regrettably my name’s just Cleo, not Cleopatra.”
Gabriel kissed my lips. “Doesn’t matter. I’d still raise an army for you.”
That night I straddled him on the bed and rode him slowly.
We never broke eye contact.
It was so intense, whatever this thing was between us, like nothing I’d ever experienced before. It forced me to push past my fears and doubts and embrace thisthingthat felt bigger than both of us, in all its glory and splendor and wondrousness.
With Gabriel, I felt braver and more uninhibited, and more vulnerable too. Because I trusted him. With my body, my heart, and my emotions.
Sothisis how it feels to find your person.
Afterward, when he was still inside me, I asked, “Is it always like this with you?”
“No.” He shook his head and let out a strained laugh. “Definitely not. This is… in a whole other stratosphere. It’s you. Or maybe it’s us. You’re my twin flame.”
Twin flame. I loved that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“You want another cappuccino?”
“No, I want you to sit down.” It was a Wednesday evening in June and there were only about a dozen people in Monks, but Gabriel was running around like the place was jam-packed and everyone was in a rush to get served.
