Endless Love by Bianca Borell
Chapter Thirteen
BRIA
Strong hands wrap around me a short while after I end the call. He speaks first, and I lean into his embrace.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“Me too,” I admit, and he slides next to me as I bury my head in the crook of his arm.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks and caresses my back.
“There’s nothing left to talk about. You’re right, but it’s hard to accept.” He places a kiss on the top of my head.
“I love you so damn much. You’re my dream come true. I’ll keep telling you I need nothing else but you for every day of my life until you believe it too.”
I nod and lock my hands around his side.
“It was nice to hang out with Soph. We’re going to London for the weekend.”
“I’ll call Chloe to join the party.”
“I invited Sarah too. Then it’s all settled. Fun, here we come.”
“Where do you want to stay?”
He searches my eyes for the answer, and I find it sweet how he always puts my feelings first.
“Where our first home should have been.”
“Not that I have a problem with it, but why are we going to London?”
“For some shopping.”
“Why, because the stores in Zürich are closed?” Amusement crinkles in the corners of his eyes, and I poke him in his ribs.
“For my wedding dress, and no, you won’t see it.”
“Thank you for the warning,” he mumbles, and I grin at him.
“It’s my duty as your future wife.”
“I can’t wait until you’re officially Bria du Sky.” His voice turns dreamy, his previous sour mood vanishing.
“Caveman, we live in the twenty-first century. Just saying.” He lowers his face, and our noses almost touch.
“Or maybe I’ll drag you with me back to my cave and do all the nasty things my dirty mind can come up with. Where no one will ever find us. It’s actually an excellent plan. Why didn’t I think about it sooner?”
“You’re crazy.” I chuckle.
“Crazy about you.”
He takes my lips into a kiss, and I say, “I’m hungry.”
“What does my baby want?” Just like that, he forgets about the kissing. I guess feeding me is more important.
“Chinese.”
“Come on, let’s get you fed.”
“I love how you make me feel.”
His smile speaks of joy and adoration. Yes, I’m still madly in love with him.
“I love you. You can’t possibly understand how much.”
He slides his hands around my neck as we head toward his car.
“How did you find me this quickly?”
“I will always find you, Bria. Never doubt it.”
“You’re a madman.”
“But I am your madman, and the last time I checked, you were smitten with me.”
“Nothing has changed.”
“Good.”
I tilt my face to him and ask, “Hmm, what would you be without me?”
“No one and nothing.”
His stare fixates on me, the intensity rippling through me. His rawness and seriousness bore into me and in a deranged way, surely, I enjoy it a little too much.
We climb into his convertible, and I am reminded of his love for cars, which became a car collection in my absence. I hate when my thoughts go to a place and time where I wasn’t with him. When he kept himself occupied with collecting cars and notches on his bed.
“How many cars do you have?”
“By now, it must be around ten.”
“You don’t even know how many? Isn’t that a little vain, Damien?”
My voice sounds rougher than intended, but I can’t help it.
“What’s the actual problem?”
“Why the need for a collection?” I insist, his entire upper body stiffening, sensing my mood shift.
“Because I have always liked cars, that’s why.”
“Like people, everything is interchangeable for you, isn’t it?” He rakes a hand through his hair and pierces me with a heavy look.
“You know it’s not true, you’re the fucking proof of it.”
His hands grip the wheel, his knuckles turning white. His frustration is palpable in the car, but I am also in a bad mood myself. When will I get past it? It’s unhealthy to keep tormenting myself over things I have no power to change.
He drives us to my favorite Chinese restaurant, and a pang of guilt hits me as he rushes to my side of the car. I grab his extended hand in mine and climb out, the power of his touch melting some resistance. It electrifies me, and when I glance up, vulnerability shines in his eyes. Why, I have no idea, but it’s like a punch to my heart.
“Damien?” I ask, biting down on my lower lip, and his features soften when he answers, his eyes closed.
“I’m afraid I will lose you. That one day, you’ll decide I’m not worth the pain you constantly put yourself in over my past and leave me. I could give you my soul in a heartbeat, and still, you go back there . . .”
He is the man I will love until my last breath. I raise up on my toes, cup his face in my hands, and kiss him, like I would die if my lips don’t meet his, desperate and needy. He crosses his strong arms around me, and everything is right again. This is my place, the one I choose, and the one I call home.
“How could I walk away from my home? You’re everything I love and more.”
“But is it enough, baby? Will there be a day when it won’t matter how I lived without you?” Our eyes lock in a battle of raw and undiluted emotions.
“Damien . . .”
He sighs and lowers his forehead to mine. Crazy how everything in me knows he loves me, and still insecurities seep through.
“Come now, let’s eat. Enough of this for now.”
Red generously covers the walls with black patterns of letters and images speaking of secrecy, inviting one to discover their meanings. Pieces of oriental art decorate the place, golden statues watching over the guests. The dim light reflected from the small, colored lamps invites privacy. We reach the small table, and the waitress appears, her black hair pulled together in a ponytail, wearing a black and red uniform. When she retreats with our order, I grip Damien’s hand in mine and trail light kisses on the back.
His lips curve into the most beautiful smile possible. How can he be afraid that one day I will leave him when he holds my heart in his hands? He’s everything. I am still contemplating him and daydreaming about what a spectacular view I have when the waitress places our drinks in front of us.
“You’re gorgeous, Damien.”
“Shouldn’t I compliment you?”
He cocks his head to the side, and the tension eases a bit.
Our food arrives, ending our moment, and although I might have forgotten my hunger, my stomach growls in vengeance. I chew the first bite, forgetting all manners and moan. Damien cannot stifle a chuckle as I say in my defense, “I’m hungry.”
“Don’t let me stop you.”
His eyes gleam with adoration, and butterflies battle with the food in my stomach. I take the last bite and put the sticks down, satiated. We pay shortly after and drive home.
Inside the elevator, he cups my face in his hands, his thumb brushing my lower lip. I inch even closer to him . He turns me around, and the ample mirror reflects us. It’s losing the love of the other that made us stubbornly insecure and acknowledging it sets me free. It is love. A love so great we have difficulties controlling it. We need to stop this nonsense and trust our love. How did we turn it into something so complicated?
“Just remain mine, and this is the most selfish request made by a man who can’t seem to have a life if you are not by his side.”
By the time he finishes, my eyes well up with love and understanding. I know how much it cost him to admit his weakness, but him showing his weakness strengthens my belief in us.
“Damien, I have always accepted you exactly for what and who you are. You are not a challenge I have to resolve or fix, baby. You’re you, the man I adore, and I don’t want you any other way.” I pause, and his forehead rests on mine as I circle one button of his shirt. “If we burn, then we’ll burn together. I would take it every time just to live through the way you make me feel . . . alive and burning with an intensity of a thousand suns.”
Our gazes fix on each other and the sheer magnitude of our mutual feelings pumps my insides with bliss. This is our life. I’d rather feel too much than beg for scraps. In one swift moment, he picks me up and rushes inside our home. The desperation in which his lips devour mine electrify every single hair on my head as I thread my fingers through his hair.
We don’t kiss, we taste, bite, and nip, our lips seeking the next exchange of passion. Our tongues dance and battle in the other’s mouth, demanding entrance, expecting free rule. We pour our soul into the other, hoping to mark the other for a hundred lives and more.
