He pressed his warm lips to mine gently, but I had enough of tentative kisses. If Marty was really in love with me, I had waited long enough, knew him long enough to forget waiting. My heart pounded in my chest as I threw my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss with a gasp.
That was all the encouragement he needed. With a groan he dragged me back towards the ratty old sofa that had been in my possession since our college days and served as my napping sofa in the studio. I was more than happy to follow.
I started pulling at the buttons of his shirt. I may have popped a few in my enthusiasm but whose counting. He had already helped me off with my thin, long sleeve sweater by the time I was straddling his lap. The sweater flung somewhere over his shoulder.
I had my hands firmly wrapped in his hair. How I loved the feel of it in my fingers. I tried to pull him back into the kiss but he held me firmly away so that he could burn my skin with his darkened gaze. "What?" I questioned. "Sink or swim. Right?" I whispered.
His eyes widened in surprise then warmed to love. "Absolutely." His arms tightened around my waist while he pressed his face into my chest. My arms wrapped naturally around his head trying to press him closer into my body.
The mood suddenly changed. The urgency slowed to a smoldering heat. Marty pressed his ear to my chest to listen to my thundering heartbeat. I rubbed my face in his hair, trying to feel everything in my tingling body.
I felt Marty's fingers searching for the clasp of my bra.
Insecurities reared up in me and made me stay his hands. "Wait." I said. I pulled his hands away and brought them forward to hold them in front of me. "Please, wait." I whispered. I couldn't look at him, so I stared down at his hands.
Crap! I thought I could do this. I was breathing hard and completely aroused but I couldn't do this. My fantasy was blooming in front of me and I just couldn't turn off the doubts in my brain. What the hell was wrong with me!
"Lily." Marty said calmly. He pulled one of his hands from my grasp and cupped my cheek gently. "Lily, please look at me."
Reluctantly, I raised my gaze. His face was flushed and his lips curled up into a gentle smile. His eyes only shone with love. There was no doubt in them. None. "I love you." He said simply. "I love you, Lily." He repeated.
His thumb caressed my cheek soothingly. "You're a beautiful woman, Lily. In all ways and I love you. I want you, but I won't rush you into anything." He said calmly. He was so confident and sure of himself. How did he do that?
I'm sure he could see the conflict and insecurity in my face and I sighed resignedly. "I don't ... I can't... Ugh! I can't even string a thought together." I shook my head. "I want this, Marty. I really do. I love you. I do. But.." I shrugged and looked down again. "My heart's desire is staring me right in the face and I can't even let myself have this moment of happiness. I can't let go." I moved off Marty's lap and sank back on the sofa, my eyes closed.
The room was very quiet for a few minutes. I felt Marty move on the sofa and soon I felt him slide in next to me. He lowered his head to my shoulder and carefully curled himself around me. "No worries, love. I'm not going anywhere." He rested his hand on my belly and softly stroked the soft pudge. No urgency, just comfort.
It started to rain again. Loud enough for us to hear it thrum on the roof.
"I was talking to my mom the other day. She reminded me of when we had this really crazy December storm when I was around nine." He talked softly, reminiscing on that long ago winter. He told other stories about growing up. About his family, his terrible cousin Danny that had thrown a rock at him and cut his head open. He had to get five stitches on that day. About his favorite dog, Dunder and how she used to sleep with him every night and how she died in his arms when he was 14.
It was all very funny and sad and...comfortable. This was how it always was with Marty. Effortless.
So why couldn't I just forget that my tits sag and that my belly has never been flat and that my ass should have it's own area code. If Marty wanted to be with me...then he would be with all of me. If he was ok with my self doubt, my pessimism and my obsession with not being good enough, then I would try to accept that maybe... just maybe, I deserved this incredible man who was sending tingles and sparks from my scalp to the tips of my toes.