Beautiful Boy(39)

"That's just it … you're looking at it all wrong. You see the person you  used to be-you've said it yourself … he was carefree. But instead of  seeing him, all you do is compare that boy to the person in front of me  right now. Stop comparing. I could look back on my former self from high  school and compare her all day long to who I am today. Everyone can.  It's part of life. We grow up, we move on from our childhoods, we become  adults. We make bad decisions from time to time. We fuck up and make  mistakes. But guess what? We learn and accept. We adapt. And that's your  problem-you refuse to adapt."

"I've adapted just fine, thank you." He didn't say it maliciously or  rude. It was actually spoken rather sadly and it made my heart ache. His  tortured eyes and sorrowful tone sank into my chest and left it raw as  if his torment and sorrow lived inside me.

I placed my hands on his chest, crawled into his lap, and straddled his  thighs so his eyes were level with mine. "You refuse to make love to me  because you don't know how to be with someone on a bed, using your leg  as an excuse. I understand your hesitation to remove the prosthesis, and  I'd never push you on that issue. But you can't even let go enough to  see how it is possible."

"I have a metal rod for a leg. I have no knee."

I ran my hands down the front of his shirt to his belt buckle and  unfastened it, and then I continued to work on the button and zipper as  he stared at me in silence.         

     



 

"You don't need your knees when someone is riding you." I balanced  myself on the edge of his chair and pulled his pants down just enough to  release him, and then I resituated myself on his lap. "It's called  adapting, Nolan."

"Oh, is that what it's called?" His words were airy and strained, which matched the desperate grip he had on my waist.

I tugged on the knot in his tie until it loosened enough for me to pull  it off. Then I unbuttoned his shirt. "Yes … and so is allowing yourself to  be seen." Once I had his dress shirt fully opened, I worked on pushing  his undershirt up, revealing his torso enough to explore it with my  hands. "And touched."

His breaths turned shaky and his nostrils flared. His eyes grew darker  as his jaw clenched, his muscles ticking beneath the short hairs on his  face. I couldn't tell if it was restraint caused by our position, or  panic due to my fingertips tracing his scar tissue.

"I wouldn't call that adapting."

My mouth closed over his, preventing him from speaking any more, and  then I took his erection in my hand. I'd purposely left my panties in my  glove box in the event I had to go this far. Like I said, he was  unpredictable, but it'd taught me to expect everything. I lifted my hips  and lined him up beneath the flow of my skirt.

I sank down slowly on him, prepared to torture him if needed until he  conceded to my point. My gaze locked with his as I held onto him by his  shoulders. His respirations quickened through his nose.

"Call it whatever you want, Nolan. Paint stripes on a dog, but it doesn't make it a zebra."

"Why are you talking?" He used his grip on my hips to try and move me, but I held firm, causing his eyes to widen in surprise.

"Because I need you to listen to me."

"I can't listen to you while I'm inside-oh shit! I don't have a condom  on, Novah." The sheer panic in his voice had me completely frozen in  place. I knew I was clean and safe … but I hadn't thought about him.

I had no idea where he'd been.

"Do I have something to worry about?" I asked in a whisper, fear of his answer embedded deep within my bones.

His wide eyes remained on mine, unblinking. His silence made me nauseous, but then he slowly shook his head. "Babies?"

"I'm on birth control. I'm talking about other things, Nolan. I'm clean, but what about you?"

The tight muscles in his face relaxed and his eyes closed. His relieved  breath fanned over my face as his head fell forward slightly. "No. I'm  clean."

His assuagement was contagious and it ran through me, easing my  apprehension. "See? We're talking and you're inside me." I rolled my  hips, eliciting a groan from his chest. "Can we talk about your  inability to adapt now?"

"I think I'm adapting quite well right now. We're not standing. I'm not  fucking you from behind or treating you like a warm hole to stick it in.  And for the first time in my entire life, I'm having sex-if you can  call it that-without a condom. If this isn't adapting, I don't know what  is." The entire time he spoke, his eyes remained closed and his words  were strained and forced out. I didn't know how much longer I had, so I  needed to make it quick.

I stilled my hips and waited until his eyes opened and I knew I had his  attention. "You are who you are, and you can't change it. No matter what  reason brought you to this place, all that matters is you're  here … you're alive." I placed my hand over the center of his chest. "Your  heart is beating. You're breathing. And you're with me. Must you  complain about it all the time?"

His full and deep sigh blew past his slightly parted lips and landed  heavily on my chin. "I don't complain about being with you."

"Well, you're not happy about the person you've become. And I just so  happen to like the person you are now, as much as the boy you once  were."

His slight hiccup and closed eyes did not go unnoticed. I knew the only  thing he'd focused on was how I'd said "like" instead of "love," which I  almost did. But he wasn't ready for that yet. In order to compensate  for it, I began to move my hips again, giving him another reason  altogether to stop breathing.

"I believe the only way to uncover the light from inside you"-I watched  his eyes open and he met my gaze-"is to reconnect with it. Find the boy  who stole my heart. And the only way to do that is through the lens of a  camera."

"Please stop talking," he begged with strangled words. "I can't … pay  attention while you're … moving like that. And I just might … agree to  anything right about … now."         

     



 

I smiled inwardly, kissed the corner of his mouth, and picked up the  speed of my undulating hips. "Just take the damn camera. Take it and use  it." I began to lose my own train of thought as his body connected with  mine, hitting all the right places and making my body temperature rise.

"Want a kidney, too? How about a million dollars."

"Dammit, Nolan. Stop talking," I rasped into his ear, holding him tight  against me. I didn't care if his receptionist barged in on us or if his  work phone rang. My body was on the edge and nothing could've stopped me  from falling over with him.

His teeth sank into my neck, and it pushed me over. I clung to him and  whimpered, my muscles straining and convulsing at the same time. Nolan  had to use my hips to keep me moving, because I no longer had any  control over my own body.

He wrapped his arms securely around my waist and held me against him,  pumping himself in me until he couldn't move anymore. Then we sat like  that for several minutes, both desperately attempting to catch our  breath.

"Take the camera, Nolan."

He blew out a heavy lungful of air against my neck, but he didn't pull away. "And what will I do with it?"

I giggled. "Take pictures. It's usually what people do with cameras."

"You shouldn't have bought me a camera for me to just fuck around with."

"I didn't buy it. It's my old one from school."

He pushed me away just enough to look me in the eyes. His eyebrows rose high on his forehead.

"You said the other day you aren't familiar with the new ones, and  you're used to film. Well, I happen to have an old SLR camera with a  full supply of film that isn't being used. If you find yourself enjoying  it, we can always convert you to the dark side of computer programs and  digital technology."

He smirked and shook his head. "And how exactly do you expect me to  develop this film? Last I checked, there's no place that does it  anymore. Or I'd have to ship them off to be processed, which takes all  the fun out of it."

"We make you a place to develop it," I said with a one-shoulder shrug,  as if the answer was simple. "I could clear out the storage closet at  the studio and turn it into a darkroom for you. Or we could turn your  very empty home office into one."

"You really won't let this go, will you?"

I smiled and kissed his lips briefly. "Nope. Not until you find the lost boy and pull him out."

His hold on me strengthened as I made a move to lift myself off him. The  pain in his stormy eyes shone clear as day; it forced me to halt and  wait for him to say whatever he had on his mind.

"The other day, you asked me what my plans were after this … thing. But  what if I'm right and that old version of me is dead? What if I never  find him? What if I never become whole again? What are your plans if  that happens?"