Things only got better and better for Thomas and me after that night. We seemed to get closer and closer, never going any more than a few days without each other. Almost every night, one of us stayed with the other β though it was more often his staying with me. Some of our nights were filled with continual love-making and raw lust; the rest were filled with close intimacy, doing whatever we could to enjoy each other's company. And just like he promised, he never left, even when I had my mean moments and refused to allow him to love me. I soon realized that keeping sex away from him was hurting no one but me, so I quickly stopped the ban in the bedroom whenever I was angry with him. Instead of refusing the sex, Thomas used it as a make-up gesture. No matter how mad I was with him, he could always make me feel better with his gentle loving and warm intimacy.
Tonight, however, was a little bit different than the other nights. It was a full nine months later, and we were spending this night together in his home, a cozy little three bedroom house with tasteful decorations and brand new yet hardly used appliances. I had become used to this nice little house, though I never gathered enough nerve to ask whether I could move in. Our anniversary was rapidly approaching, and it stayed in the forefront of my mind. What would we do to celebrate our year of being together? To be honest, I was surprised that he had lasted so long. Most men with me hadn't been able to even make it past the six-week mark, and many made it a shorter time than that. Though I thought these things quite often, I didn't say anything about these thoughts to him. Fear of spoiling our romantic atmosphere was too great for me to bog him down with my petty memories. However, Thomas's mind seemed to be more on affection than it was on memories.
As we lay on the comfortable leather sofa in his den right in front of his television, I was suddenly snapped out of my thoughts of memories and anniversaries as Thomas sat up a little bit behind me and moved his lips to brush against my cheek.
"Shaye," he whispered. "What are you thinking about?"
Caught off guard by the seduction in his voice, I shuddered.
"Well, I had my mind out of the gutter until you said something."
He gave me a light chuckle.
"I would apologize for my influence if I could; but I would be lying if I said that I didn't mean to get your mind in the gutter."
Sitting up a little bit, I leaned backward into Thomas's arms and sighed heavily.
"Honey..." I mumbled.
He kissed my cheek lightly and began to move his hands around my shoulders. My skin began to prickle with goose bumps as his fingers just barely moved over my skin enough for me to feel the sensation.
"I'll make love to you nice and slow tonight, Shayla. Let you feel every single bit of my lust."
And then I felt it. A sharp pain suddenly stabbed at my abdomen and my lustful intentions were soon lost. I moved away from Thomas and whined lowly.
"Not tonight, Thomas. I feel fat and bloated and I've had a horrible headache all day."
In a tizzy of sexual frustration, Thomas hung his head and sighed heavily.
"Damn," he muttered.
I gave him a look of pity, and then started crawling back toward him.
"I'm sorry, honey. Here, I'll use my hands."
A little warmed by my gesture, he looked up and gave me a reassuring smile.
"No, Shaye, it's fine. I promise. I'll just have a little bit of alone time in the shower tonight."
I raised my eyebrows and questioned,
"Are you sure?"
He nodded.
"I'm sure. Besides, I wouldn't want to get your blood flowing like that and bring that migraine back. Maybe you should go see your doctor about getting something to fix those migraines you've been having lately."
Taking a few seconds to think about it, I decided that a visit wouldn't hurt and shrugged.
"I will ask my gynecologist about it when I see her tomorrow. I'm due for a refill on my birth control anyway."
Happy about my agreement, Thomas took my hands and gave me a light kiss on my lips.
"Wonderful, baby. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with a hot shower tonight."
***