It's Got A Ring To It (27 page)

The morning sun peeked through the blinds, and cautiously, I cracked
my eyes open.
A familiar scene.
Myles wasn’t next to
me, and my heart s
a
nk.
D
é
j
à
vu. New Year’s all over again. I
was alone in a bed after a mind-blowing night with Myles, the master of the
exit strategy. I sat up to look around the room, but there were no hinting
sounds that he was in the bathroom or on the terrace. If it weren’t for my
aching muscles and a pair of his white tennis shoes near the door, I would’ve
had doubts how I’d even ended up there. I made my way over to the white terry cloth
robe tossed across the chair next to the bed and slid my arms in when a knock
on the door startled me.

“Who is it?”

A high-pitched woman’s voice informed me that room service had
arrived, when Myles appeared out of thin air from the direction of the terrace,
wearing the matching robe. To see this beautifully sculpted male specimen,
flawless by any opinion, wrapped up in a cloud-like contraption, clearly made
for someone of shorter, more rotund stature brought laughter to the eyes. With
the beaming smile slathered across his face, the laughter quickly spilled
from
my
mouth.

“Good morning, my love,” he greeted me, ever so chipper.

“Good morning yourself
.
” I smiled.

After Myles had wheeled in the cart with a breakfast feast atop and
signed the order receipt, very
businesslike
,
with his matching fluffy slippers, he waited for the door to close and immediately
redirected his attention to me. “Hopefully you slept well
.
I have a great day planned for us.”

Dismissing his comment completely, I interjected my burning question.
“And why is it, Myles, that I never wake up with you still
lying
beside me?”
I looked
at him pointedly, with a slight
teasing edge.

He knew that he was caught. There’s no rebuttal that he could give
that would help him win this one. First, he looked down, still smiling, but
guilty as ever. Then he shot back, “Is it such a bad thing, that I like waking
up early to make sure you’re fed? It won’t be like this
every day
. I’m hoping that we’ll have a
lifetime to wake up next to each other.”

He was good, really good. Always knew exactly what to say at the
exact right time. What could I say to that? Don’t take care of me? Don’t be
affectionate and thoughtful? But, I thought we were taking things one day at a
time, and he’d implied forever. A lifetime? Marriage? My mind went racing a
million miles an hour and it must’ve shown because he was bent over with
amusement.

“
Laila
, stop freaking out. I just meant,
that I don’t see you as some fling. I love you and I want a future with you.
But one day at a time,” he said, reading my mind. I tried weakly to laugh it
off, embarrassed. “If you could’ve seen the look on your face. You would think
I asked you to come jump off a cliff with me.”

As he enjoyed himself at my expense, I pulled the silver platter
cover off the short stack of pancakes and buttered each layer. He had me on
that one. I was freaking out. I generously drizzled the rich amber syrup over the
golden pancakes, allowing it to puddle around the stack, quietly wondering why
I’d gotten so bent out of shape at the idea of marrying Myles. No, he hadn’t
proposed, but my reaction alarmed me. I carried the white porcelain plate over
to the small bistro
-
style
table for two
,
and
began forking at bites of the scrambled eggs on the side.

“Though, it’s not the question that you were thinking of, I do need
to ask you something,
Laila
.” I nodded my assent for
him to continue. “I know we’re both going to be pretty busy at Elle’s wedding
with me giving her away and you taking care of the candy station, but I was
hoping you’d like to be my date,” he stated nervously, standing over me at the
table.

“Of course. I’d love to be your date,” I answered on a whim without
a second thought
.

“As my girlfriend?”

“Yeah?” It came out as a question, but it was something of a
statement. It wasn’t what I was expecting, but I could handle that kind of
proposition.

“Is that your answer
,
or do you need me to repeat the question?”

“Yes. My answer is yes,” I replied ecstatically. Wife, I wasn’t sure
about, but girlfriend I could handle, fluffy slippers and all.
As he l
oosen
ed
the tie around his robe,
it amazed me, the effect that he had upon me. The way he could set the blood
coursing through my veins aflame with only his touch or a steamy gaze.
H
e pulled me up from the
chair as we kissed hungrily. A crisp breeze swept in from the terrace
—
my only solace from
the heat rising between us.
His smoky eyes, dark with desire.
Strong arms encircl
ed
me. My body arched to meet him as he backed onto the adjacent chair, lifting me
atop.
From the
pocket of his fluffy robe, he pulled out the foiled wrapper.

“Ah.” Myles slipped smoothly inside me. He entered me over and again,
slowly and with salacious fervor. I writhed eagerly, fervently, to his rhythm.
He’d hooked me. With just a little taste, I only wanted more. Yearned for more.
A parched thirst, that couldn’t be quenched. “Don’t stop. Please keep going.
Please. Please. Please.” I was fully wound. At the peak of divine agony, Myles
joined me, struggling to let me go first. As my need ruptured all around him,
he let go
,
too. Ragged
breathing
,
our bodies
graciously quaked free. For all the orgasms I’d faked in the past, I could’ve
kicked myself. I’d been doing myself such a disservice, now knowing the
possibilities of lovemaking with a man who made me feel insatiable.

We continued our relaxation out on the terrace. Vineyards spanned the
vast distance around us until the fertile earth and the sun-drenched sky
merged. The enticing aroma of wood and grapes tickled my nose. Fresh. Quiet.
Peaceful.

Across from me, Myles sat, alternating between bites of eggs and
bacon and fidgeting with his camera. He had a relationship with his camera that
most people hoped for in a partner. It was more like an extra limb, completing
him. Watching him, fascinated by his love for art and life in motion, only made
my love for him grow wider. When he peer
ed
through the lens, he bec
ame
part of
the picture. Joining in on the world on the other end. For him, a picture
really
was
worth a
thousand words. Maybe more. He could try to limited avail to explain his
feelings and perspective, but one glance at what he s
aw
through his lens, ma
de
it so much clearer. His passionate
discussion of art soothed me, fondly it reminded me of the museum tour, and my
introduction to his world.

Every once in a while, he’d let me see stills he’d shot.
Some for magazines, others for his personal collection.
Many
of them, landscapes and vistas, but most highlighted the little things that the
majority of people overlook
ed
.
A hummingbird midflight hovering
near
a
s
pring blossom.
Rays of sunshine piercing through a canopy of evergreens.
A
beautiful woman lost amid her thoughts. His eyes captured
pictures,
the way musicians hear
d
melodies in the wind and birdsongs. The way writers assemble
d
ordinary words into
extraordinary poetry.

We’d talked about them and viewed them from his perspective, but it
wasn’t until he let me see through the other end of the lens with his
direction, did I really get it. More than that, it felt like a recurring theme
between us. I’d been locked away in the dark so long, and slowly, he was
ushering me back into a place alight with promise and a brand new frame of
reference. It wasn’t his intention, but I was indebted to him for renewing my
hope and faith in life and the possibilities.

“Take a look around and describe to me what you see
.
” Myles positioned the
camera in front of me as he eased behind me. His mammoth hands covered mine
, and
his
light touch set my skin ablaze. At first
,
there was only a blank
canvas, as far as I was concerned.

“Trees and a few vineyards.”

“Close your eyes for a second. Think about all of your senses, not
just sight. Inhale. Listen first with your ears, then open your eyes again and
find not only what you see,
but
what you hear and
smell. What would you like to reach out and touch? Taste?”

When I looked again, it was as if my eyes had awakened for the first
time. Suddenly, the light danced. Animals appeared, chirping, running, soaring
in front of my eyes. Glints of light glistened
off
blades of grass and leaves. But, beyond
the trees and grass, color popped, more vibrant than before.
Cerulean
skies and
viridescent
foliage.
I could almost
touch the wind blowing through the flora.
Every smell,
tantalizing my nose.
My mouth watered at the sweet scent of robust
grapes, ripe for picking. It was three-dimensional poetry.

“Capture your moments before they get away,” he whispered at my
wide-eyed stare, as if not to disturb me. With each snap, time stood still just
for me. The land was alive. It sashayed and posed in front of the lens.
Flirting. Bashful. Bold. Luminescent. I twisted and turned in every angle to
take even the smallest piece with me. Then, I focused on the most flawless
figure.

Myles backed away with his hands held high in defense. “Hey, be
careful with that,” he teased in mock horror. “What are you doing? Everything
worth catching is out there.”

I shook
my
head in disagreement
.
“I beg to differ, Mr. Donovan,” I explained, still hidden behind the lens. “I’m
trying to capture you before you get away.”

Beguiled by his beauty as he slowly walked toward me, I was thankful
for the hiding place. As he neared, the fresh aroma of mint from his aftershave
got stronger until I was swimming in the scent of him
—
with no choice
but to drink him in. With his right hand, he
removed the camera from my grasp and slipped his left hand around my waist,
pulling me to him until our bodies were pressed firmly against each other.

“I’m not going
,
anyw
here
.
In fact, there’s
nowhere
in the world I’d rather be than here with you.”

Without another word, he turned and disappeared back into the room,
leaving me heady and utterly turned on, clearly not seeing the irony in his
words. Just the proximity of our bodies alone, was enough to set the already
blazing blood running through my veins aflame. And for the umpteenth time, I
yearned for him in the most sensual way. By that point, I thought my craving
would gradually taper off, but it seemed to only grow more intense. I couldn’t
get enough of him.

Softly, a musical ballad echoed from the room. As I entered, it was
dim with candles sparsely placed throughout the suite. The faint sound of water
running led me to the lovely garden tub, where my love was bent over sprinkling
rose petals into the foamy bubbles.

“Care to join me?” he muttered, laden with lascivious intent.

I nodded, knowing he tasted as sweet as he looked. Without turning my
eyes away, I shed my robe. The weight of his hungry stare, made me feel sexy
and desirable—not the least ashamed. Myles removed the clip from my hair
and let the waves cascade over my shoulders. Deeply, he kissed me until our
tongues shrouded one another. Lips locked in a rapturous embrace. Heat oozed
from them, through to the depths of my erogenous zones. With both hands, he
effortlessly lifted me from my feet and placed me into the tub. His darkened
eyes regarded me with hedonistic resolve as he disrobed himself and eased in
astride me.

Cloaked in bubbles, we were content to let ou
r
entwined
bodies soak in the warm water. Something we’d rarely done. “Tell me that you
love me,” he asked.

“I love you, Myles.”

“
Mmm
.” Under hooded eyes, he seemed
happier. “I love you,
Laila
.” The words gave me
tingles. They were the right words, from the right man. “I really do want to
share my life with you, you know,” he spoke after a labored pause.

It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t exactly rhetorical either. I knew
he was it for me, though the idea of marriage still left a bitter taste in my
mouth. Just the
thought of walking down
an aisle,
filled me with a panicked anxiety. Ethan couldn’t compare to Myles, but I
couldn’t help wondering whether he would leave me at the altar, too.

Later that afternoon, I met Myles at the inn entrance, where he stood
patiently guarding two bicycles. He straddled one with a woven rattan basket
belted to the rack and held the other by the handlebar. “This one’s yours.” A
smile a mile wide crossed his face.

“What are you up to, Donovan? And what’s in the basket?”