Maya by Shayne Ford

15

MCKENNA

“Tell me something about you…”she says, leaning against my chest as we’re immersed in the water and look at the scenery in front of us and the sky.

“Something that you don’t know?” I murmur, my arm looped around her bare chest.

“Yes.”

I tip my chin down, burying my lips in her hair.

She smells like red wine, delicious cake, and perfume.

“Something good, I suppose…”

She laughs.

“Yes.”

“I always wanted to live overseas.”

She stays quiet for a second before she laughs.

“I don’t think that’s good. That’s how I lost you the first time.”

“That’s true… But I lost you too.”

“What do you like about living overseas?”

“I don’t know…” I say, my smile fading. “I got used to it. I mostly grew up over there. I didn’t have the chance to spend much time here. Except for the summer reunions with my extended family or business trips.”

“Hmm… How did you imagine life growing up?”

“Like this,” I say.

I kiss her hair.

She tilts her head to see my eyes.

“With me?”

I nod.

“Yes…. With a woman like you.”

She stays quiet while I remember those days when time barely crawled, the hours were long, the nights were amazing, and my head had buzzed with ideas about the life waiting for me.

I loved life, and I never took anything for granted. Friends, family, women. I knew what I wanted. And I knew people.

I understood that not all of them are good, and I was lucky to be surrounded by exceptional people, starting with my parents, my best friends, and Shade in particular.

“What did you have in mind?” she asks.

I lean back and tilt my head against the edge of the tub. Holding her in my arms, I look at the sky.

Stars blink across the dark canvas––millions of celestial bodies.

“I wanted to get drunk on life. Live it to the fullest and find someone just like you. I wanted to love a woman down to her last bit of flesh and heart, to bring kids into this world with her, and live thousands of days and nights with them. Moments like this. Joyful moments, sad moments. Teaching moments. I wanted everything.”

By the time I finish, she looks up at me. I tip my gaze down.

Our eyes meet, a soft smile tilting her lips, weaving into her gaze.

“What about you?” I ask.

She swallows and looks away, her eyes glinting.

“I wanted all that too, in the beginning,” she murmurs, resting her head against my shoulder. “And then I thought I was asking for too much. Little by little, life had chipped away at my convictions, and I no longer believed it was possible.”

“I think everything is possible if you don’t give up…” I say, stroking her hair absently. “As long as you can hang in there even when hope is gone, things can still happen.”

“Is that what happened to us?” she asks, her voice trickling softly like the water.

“Yes. That’s what I think it was. We’ve never given up on each other, although we had no idea if we would be together again.

She shifts her body and looks her me.

A few moments of silence rush away before she winds her arms around my neck and presses her lips against mine.

“Thank you for saying that,” she murmurs.

I bring my hand to her face and splay my fingers over her cheek.

“It’s the truth… We were always meant to be together. I knew it even back then.”

Her eyes fill with happy tears while I wipe them away, smiling.

She pulls up to reach my lips and starts kissing me while I drape my arms around her. Soft, and warm she feels like the other half of my heart.

We kiss under the starry sky before we finish our wine and go back into the house.

Well past midnight, we roll naked between the crisp sheets, her legs wrapped around my waist, her chest crushed against my pecs, our mouths locked, our blood warm, our pulse racing.

I enter her over and over again, quenching my thirst for her, wrapping my mind around the idea of her, relishing every moment we have together.

Her hands can’t get enough of me, her skin breathing me in, her center pulsing with life all around me.

I love being inside her, feeling her touch, and sensing her emotions.

We fall asleep late when the sunrise starts to glaze the brow of the horizon.

* * *

MAYA

I openmy eyes to a room that it’s not mine, and I blink in confusion for a few moments until my mind awakens to the new reality.

I notice the imprint of his body in the pillow and on the mattress, and I hear the music and the water trickling outside before I sense the smell of fresh coffee wafting through the air.

Then my attention gets snagged by the sounds of a typical kitchen on a Sunday morning when you share your life with someone who matters to you.

A clink against the kitchen counter, the sound of a ceramic cup meeting the granite, the coffee pouring into that mug.

The eggs sizzling in a pan preceding the smell of pancakes.

Footsteps stroll across the house before a phone buzzes, the door to the patio slides open, and his voice rings out outside.

I roll to my side and peek through the window at the patio.

I see him standing, propped against the railing––tall, tattooed, his hair dark catching the sun.

He talks on the phone with Shade, most likely, an arm crossed over his chest, his hip connected to the railing.

The sunlight grows into a haze over the rugged mountains in the distance.

My heart swells, the sweetest pain growing in my chest as I remember the unexpected words he said to me last night.

I soak in every detail of his body, his boxers, V-shaped back, and eyes trained on the horizon.

He felt so good last night, and for once, we weren’t in a rush. He is the most amazing man I have ever met, and I’m falling for him at a terrifying speed.

I can’t think of the future, but the future can’t be bad if the present looks like this.

How it starts is how it goes, my mother used to say. She wasn’t talking about good things.

She mostly tried to warn me, but this is not the case here.

Life has secret ways of weaving stories together, leaving us breathless, and that’s how I am right now.

He ends the call and stands by the railing, eyes trained on the view, contemplating something.

I wonder what goes through his mind.

He lingers for a few more moments before spinning around, a soft smile beaming on his face.

He seems so happy, and I quickly realize… I’d do anything for this man.

Anything.

I slide off the bed, walk to the bathroom and take a shower.

Minutes later, I exit the bedroom, a large towel wrapped around my chest.

“Hey,” he says, smiling when I stroll into the kitchen.

He sits at the table, a cup of coffee in front of him.

His eyes connect with mine before I bend over to kiss him.

We both taste like mint. He hasn’t touched his cup of coffee, I notice, tipping my eyes down.

“I was waiting for you,” he murmurs, his eyes hovering over my face.

My afterglow is seemingly long-lasting.

It had registered with me as well when I glanced at my reflection in the bathroom.

He pushes his chair back and starts to rise when I stop him with a flick of my hand.

“I’ll bring it,” I say softly.

He slides back into his seat, looking at me, a hint of surprise glowing in his eyes.

I bring another cup of coffee to the table and the food he has prepared.

Eggs and pancakes. Fruit and whipped cream.

I place everything on the table and take a seat across from him.

“You slept okay?’

“It was great,” I say, keeping my eyes down, feeling emotional all of a sudden.

His chair scrapes against the floor again. This time he leans closer to me and brings his hand to my face.

“Hey, baby…” he murmurs in the softest, gentlest voice I’ve ever heard. “Are you okay?”

I nod a couple of times, smiling, my eyes getting blurry.

“I’m perfectly fine. I’ve never been better,” I say, making an effort to keep my voice steady.

As much as I thought these moments won’t come to me again, and these trips to the past wouldn’t happen again, life is life. Wounds are there to stay. Wounds turn into scars, and scars turn into memories and eventually into wisdom.

If you’re lucky…

I can’t believe how lucky I am.

“Eat,” I say, pointing to his food. “It’s delicious.”

He smiles and kisses my cheek, thankful for seeing me so emotional, feeling so deeply for him.

He starts to eat.

“Are we going somewhere today?” I ask before taking a sip of coffee.

“Only if you want to.”

I look out the window. The water ripples in the hot tub.

“I don’t want to go anywhere.”

He laughs.

“Me neither.”

I move my eyes to him.

His face is so handsome, brightened up with a smile.

“You didn’t sleep much, did you?” I ask.

“I couldn’t.”

He says it calmly, but I know better. It’s precisely what I have experienced. Apparently, I’m not the only one grappling with emotions.

We move away from that topic and chat about other stuff, and only later, when we retreat into the bedroom, I remember what he said again, feeling his emotions in his touch and grip.

His lips.

The way he enters me.

The way he fucks me.

A few hours later, the afternoon draws to an end, and embraced, we look outside.

The sun hovers over the horizon, filling the room with a golden light.

“So… Are you coming with me?” he asks quietly, his fingers entangled in my hair.

I tilt my face up.

“When I come back in a week or two.”

“I need to talk to Tara and find a replacement,” I say. “How long am I going to be away?”

He laughs.

“You’ll never come back.”

I chuckle against his chest. His skin is warm and smells so good–– a mix of him and faint cologne.

I could permanently live like this.

“We’ll spend some time in Italy. And then we’ll come back. I need to make a stop in New York.”

“Business?”

“Yes.”

“How much time are we going to spend in Italy?”

“A few days. Ten or so.”

“Oh… Tara will kill me.”

“She’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay?”

He cocks an eyebrow, waiting.

“Okay. I will come with you. I don’t care when I return, or if I return,” I joke.

He flashes a bright grin.

“I like that.”

“What if…” I murmur.

He moves his eyes to me, his fingers fanning over the back of my hair.

“Yes?”

“What if I’m not going to let you go back home?” I say.

He lowers his eyelids, a smile tugging at his lips.

“We’ll figure something out. I might want to take you away from here, though…”

I breathe out another laugh.

“I’m certain Tara will have a problem with that.”

“You have people to run the company.”

“Yes, we do.”

“So, don’t worry about it. I will not take you away from something that you love…” he says.

“Are you talking about my company or something else?”

He flashes that beautiful smile again.

“What do you mean by something else? he asks.

Curling his arm around my neck, he pulls me into him, kissing my brow.

“Me,” he says.

I laugh, amused.

“You’ll have everything you want…” he says, his voice smooth, serious this time.

My grin fades.

I break away from him and push up a little to look at his face.

His eyes beam with a smoldering look. I have no words, my heart fluttering, skipping beats.

I crash onto his chest again, take his face in my hands, and kiss him unapologetically.

He slides his arm around me and presses me against his body, responding with the same passion I put in my kiss.

I can’t stop the emotion flowing in my touch and can’t hold back what I thought I should push back.

Our bodies find themselves entangled again. He grows hard against my abdomen when I lower my hand and start stroking him, our mouths still locked.

A few more moments, and I sense the fire raging through his body.

He rolls with me, so he has a better grip on me, and hitches my thigh high on his hip before entering me hard and long.

I shudder against his chest, relishing the sensation, our connection turning into a ritual.

He loves me with enduring passion, without letting me down, without losing track of me, and without holding back.

He loves me in a way I’ve never seen anyone else do, as if saying he is here to stay, he won’t pull away from me, and he won’t give me only pleasure.

He touches me in a way that makes me melt with joy.

I wasn’t joking.

What if I can’t let go of him?