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How depressing.
Kazex suddenly kneels before me and grabs my hands. "Ruthie. I say and do all the wrong things. I don't know how to go about this. But let me be very clear. I have never entertained the thought of any boobs but yours. No other female affects me. You are the only one in my thoughts. Ever."
My face gets hot at his confession and the intense expression on his face. His hands clutch mine, and I can't help but think that a few moments ago, these hands were stroking over his cock, working his length to the thought of me.
"I have told you this before," he chides.
"Yes, but that was months ago. A lot changes in six months."
"Nothing has changed for me." He shakes his head slowly, emphasizing his words. "Nothing."
"But Gia?—"
"Nothing." He squeezes my hand. "Has." Squeezes again. "Changed."
Oh. Well.
That means he's mine. He's always been mine. I can reach out right now and touch him and kiss him as much as I want...and I'm suddenly terrified by the prospect. It's a big change in our comfortable stalemate. What if we fuck things up? "I'm afraid."
He laces his fingers with mine, leaning against my knees as he kneels on the floor by the edge of the bed. "Does it help if I say that I'm here with you?"
"You're the reason I'm afraid to mess things up," I confess. "I don't want to lose what we have. I don't want to lose you."
"I told you we could go as slow as you needed. If you want to go back to how we were, we can. We can forget this conversation." His gaze flicks to my front. "But I might not be able to help with your newest piercing."
I don't want it if he can't. I don't want to go back to where we were earlier tonight, either. "I just...what if it takes me ten years to get comfortable with the idea of moving forward as us? Of having sex?"
"Then I would tell you that I will probably be jerking off in the sink a lot."
I want to giggle, but it's somehow the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me. That he's going to wait. That my needs are more important than his. God, he's wonderful. "Because you're mine?" I ask softly.
"Because I have always been yours." And he leans down and puts his head in my lap, where our joined hands were just a moment ago.
I hesitate, because touching him like this feels more intimate than we've ever been... and I literally just showed him my tits. But it's different like this. It's softer, more tender. I flex my fingers and then carefully run them through his soft, dark hair. He groans, hugging my legs and holding me close, as if he's never wanted anything more than this moment. I scratch lightly at his scalp, then brush his hair back from his brow. He has tattoos that disappear into his short hair, and I wonder how far back they go. I even trace the pointed line of one ear, surprisingly delicate on such a big, strong guy.
"No matter what you decide, I'm fine with all of it," he reassures me. "I just want to be with you. More than that, I want to be yours."
His emphasis makes me realize there's a difference between the two, and I never realized that before. He's right, though. You can be with someone and not be with them. It's the latter part that I'm so careful to withhold. It's that part that makes me wonder what it'd be like to truly be with Kaz. To stop fighting it.
It'd either be glorious...or it'd fuck everything up. And I've lost everything I thought I had twice now—once when I woke up to find myself a slave on a strange space station instead of in my bed at home. Once because I found out I wasn't even me, but one of many clones of some unknown woman who might have been Ruth or Ruthie or Ruth-Ann or none of the above.
To lose everything a third time might break me.
So I gently push Kazex's head off my lap. "I still want to go slow."
"We will go the slowest." But his eyes are gleaming with eagerness. Joy. As if I've finally acknowledged something between us. It terrifies me.
"I still want you to help me pierce my nipple."
He grimaces but then nods. "We will plan it better. Tomorrow I will make sure to take care of myself beforehand." Kaz thinks for a moment, and then adds, "Several times. Just in case."
"Probably for the best." I manage a small smile. "It's late anyhow."
He jumps to his feet, his hair tousled and messy from where I'd been stroking it. It makes the cutest swirl over the tattoo on the side of his forehead and I'm itching to reach out and touch it. I don't want to get ahead of myself, though. The more familiar I get with him, the more he's going to expect. I can't get his hopes up.
