Page 56 of Heaven Help Me

“Come to bed with me,” I beg against her lips. “I want to try something I’ve never done before.”

Valentina pulls back and glares at me. “I’m not doing any weird shit tonight. I’m too tired and too buzzed. Plus you confiscated my knife.”

I’m grinning like a fool, putting our bottles of beer down on the coffee table and pulling her to her feet. “Trust me.”

Valentina sighs, like trusting me is the hardest thing she’s ever done. And that might be accurate. I know trust doesn’t come easy for her, but I also know that she and I can’t be anything more if we don’t have trust between us. I want more than anything for her to be able to truly trust me.

I walk us through the house, shutting off lights and locking doors, before I take her upstairs to my bedroom. I get her standing by the bed, ripping my polo shirt over my head and tossing it to the ground. My shoes and socks are next. I snap the belt when I get it off, which makes her eyes widen, but I toss it to the ground too. Then I stand before her, feeling like I’m contemplating taking a leap off a tall building. My hands skim up her arms before cupping her cheeks. She’s so fucking pretty. Prettier than she was at seventeen when she turned heads everywhere she went.

“I, too, loved someone once and only once.”

Her eyes harden. I can see her actively working to build walls around her, so I amend my statement quickly.

“I was in love with you my entire teen years.”

Her gaze darts back and forth across my face, judging if I’m telling the truth. I feel it when she accepts my words. Her whole body relaxes, as if in a sigh of relief. She’s spent her whole life being on guard. I want to take that responsibility from her and just let her choose to be soft if she wants. She’s never been able to make that choice before.

“Make love to me, Valentina.”

Her hands come up to circle around my wrists and I think for a moment that she’s going to pull me off of her. Reject my plea. Choose to keep her guard up. Choose to remain hardened to everything life has to offer.

But then she pulls one hand away from her cheek and kisses my palm. I feel that kiss all the way to my toes. Not just in a sexual way. I feel her surrender to me. To an us. And I don’t take it lightly.

“I don’t know how.” Her hot breath fans my palm.

I move even closer, inhaling her scent. “I don’t either. We’ll learn together.”

She tilts her head and stares up at me. “We know how to hate-fuck really well.”

I’m hard as steel in these stupid khaki shorts. “Yes. Yes, we do. Now get undressed while I run you a bath.” I step back, forcing myself to release her.

She’s surprised, but lets go of me too. I walk to the bathroom, pausing to make sure she’s getting undressed. She waves the back of her fingers at me as if to say “hurry up.” It’s so Valentina to be sassy even while being vulnerable. It’s part of what I love about her.

I get the bathtub filling with hot water and dump in some bath salts I’ve had for ages. Probably a gift from someone that I never used. When she enters the bathroom, she’s entirely naked. I finally get to see those breasts of hers without her trying to cover them up and I realize with a sharp inhale, they were worth the wait. They’re bigger and bouncier than when she was a teen. Maybe a C-cup, with dark tan nipples that are beaded already. I go to her, unable to stay away, my hands immediately cupping her breasts.

“See?” I say in a husky voice. “This is why we need to learn how to make love. Twice we’ve fucked and I never got to see these beauties.”

She laughs softly, then pops open the button on my shorts. “I rode that dick twice and didn’t get to see the full package.”

I cough a bit as I choke. Shit, if she keeps talking like that, I might not make it through lovemaking. When hard and fast is all you know, slow and controlled seems impossible.

“Get in the damn bath, woman.”

She pulls away but her eyes are flashing with mischief. “Nuh-uh. I think that’s part of hate-fucking.”

I rub a hand across my forehead and try to focus. “You’re probably right. Sorry. Old habits die hard.”

I hold out my hand and she takes it, letting me help her into the bathtub. She sinks down into the bubbly water with a guttural sigh that also doesn’t help the situation in my shorts.

I leave her to soak, heading downstairs to the kitchen for the bouquet of flowers we brought home from the event yesterday. I pluck out five of the roses and take them upstairs, dropping multicolored rose petals all over the bed. I stand back and admire my work. There. That looks good. Pretty sure I saw something just like this on one of those Hallmark movies I was forced to watch around Christmastime with Silas and Rhett. Mary London insisted it was for our romantic education, something I scoffed at back then. Now I’ll have to remember to thank her.

Pacing the bedroom, I wonder what else I should be doing to make this more romantic. In a flash of inspiration, I rush around the house and find a candle, lighting it and placing it on the bedside table. My sheets are clean, so that should be fine. Champagne? Shit. I don’t have any on hand. Do I have enough time to go buy some real quick?

“Deuce?” Valentina calls from the bathroom.

I find her getting out, her body sluiced with water and bubbles. She’s reaching for a towel, which I grab for her and wrap around her shoulders.

“If I stay in any longer, I’ll fall asleep,” she says, looking adorable as I rub the towel over her skin to dry her off.