Between the Shadow and the Soul - 33. The Road Not Traveled

February 6, 2017

He slid out of me slowly, the fires dwindling, the embers cooling, the heat dissipating. When at last he was no longer inside me, I only knew our joining had ended by the exquisite emptiness I felt. His gentle movement was full of so much care, so much affection, and I knew by the reappearance of that keen void within and the softness of his extraction that Nate would always be the only one, the only man capable of overcoming the panic that otherwise gripped me at the very thought of being penetrated. Which made what we'd done all the more bittersweet, since everything we'd gone through indicated Richard's legacy would be the end of our relationship and the death of whatever promise might have existed that we could be just a little bit more than we already were.

His lips left mine and dropped feathery kisses along my jaw as our breathing slowed.

Just as I started to run my hands from his hips up his torso, he lifted himself on one arm anchored by a hand beside my head. The movement showed every muscle taught and prominent, making him look like a dark Adonis, the epitome of masculine beauty painted in deep brown hues.

Nate drew his hand from between us, the one he'd used on my cock. Holding it in front of his face, we both could see the evidence of my orgasm covering it.

Look at his eyes. Holy fucking shit, look at his eyes.

Again his pupils dilated and his eyes glazed as a wanton desire filled his expression, his cheeks darkening with a blush as he moved his hand to his mouth, licking each valley and suckling each peak and lapping every plain.

I moaned. Bloody hell, I moaned and fought to keep my eyes from rolling back in my head as I watched him, both disbelief and burning lust fighting for prominence. What he was doing was so erotic, but more than that it was beautiful. Completely unaffected and not exaggerated in any way, I watched as he thoroughly and honestly enjoyed consuming my essence, tasting it and savoring it and leaving none of it unconsumed.

I was just piecing myself back together after the most profound experience of my life, and suddenly he threatened to blow me apart again with nothing more than this lazy, desirous consumption.

His gaze never wavered as he swallowed every last drop, leaving behind only his own saliva. Then he reached over the edge of the sofa and grabbed the tee shirt I'd dropped on the floor. With no hesitation and a not inconsiderable amount of patience and affection, he cleaned me from chin to ass. After that he cleaned himself before tossing aside the shirt.

Nate slipped sideways and settled between me and the back of the sofa, facing me. I rolled on my side and leaned into him enough to capture his lips, slipping my tongue inside and basking in the mix of flavors—his and mine. He responded with a generous moan, chasing me as I broke the kiss and rested my head against the arm of the sofa.

Our legs were a jumbled mess and our arms slipped around each other. He ducked his head slightly to rest his face against my chest.

My breathing eventually calmed and my vision cleared. I kissed his head and sighed. "That was..."

"Incredible. Mind-blowing. Beautiful—Fuck, G-Man, you were absolutely fucking beautiful. Watching you come apart like that was... just... wow. I've never seen anything that wonderful."

"You did that, Little Big Man. You made me feel... everything I've ever dreamed of feeling."

He kissed my chest but remained quiet.

Rhetorically I mumbled, "I wonder if it could always be like that."

Nate kissed my chest again before saying, "I hope so."

I jerked back from him. "What?"

Pushing his head into the back of the couch so he could see my face, he parroted, "What?"

"Wasn't that..."

"What? Wasn't that what?"

The ache in my chest had come back since the hormones of a sexual frenzy had faded. Wonderful though it might have been, I had no delusions about what we'd just done.

"Wasn't that... Weren't you just... Well, I thought that was a mercy fuck." The hurt in his eyes pained me deeply but didn't stop me from adding, "Wasn't that goodbye? After everything else, wasn't that a farewell?"

His gasp was slight but significant, his expression dark and anguished, his voice disappointed yet stern when he replied, "Fuck, G-Man, what the hell? No, that's wasn't a pity fuck. God fucking damn it to fucking hell! Why would you think that?"

When he struggled to get off the couch, I shackled him with my arms and legs and held him against me.

"I'm sorry, Nate. I'm sorry. I just don't know what's going on... with us... with this between us. I don't know where we are anymore."

He shook his head, a small movement, then he pressed his face against my chest again. "Fucking shit, G-Man, something wonderful and beautiful and overwhelming and potent just happened. We just shared something powerful and sacred. Why the flying fuck would you think it was a pity fuck, dude? That hurts."

"I'm sorry. I just... I just don't know what's happening."

Lifting his face to mine, he kissed me, tender and sweet, then whispered against my lips, "That was a singular phenomenon, Greg. That was a religious experience. It's like for a little while the fear vanished and I realized what I had and what I might lose. And seeing you... come apart like that, all the emotions, all the pleasure you felt that flowed right into me... Fuck, G-Man, I felt like the king of the world because I was making you feel that way, I was making you feel so good you came undone."

"I'm sorry—"

"Stop saying that! Stop apologizing!"

"Why'd it happen, Nate? Why'd you do that?"

A huff of warm moist breath hit my face, and I breathed it in like the last gasp of a dying man.

"It just happened," he admitted, resting his forehead against mine. "I told you I've never been attracted to a guy, any guy, except you. I feel so connected to you and you're the most beautiful person I've ever known and I've been sexually turned on by you since I was a kid and you're the single greatest fantasy I have and your smell drives me crazy and with my face against your skin I just thought... Hell, I couldn't control myself. I thought I was going to lose you and I thought I couldn't hurt anything more than I already had, so I wanted it and I went for it because you overwhelm me and I'm not sorry I did it and I'd do it again—"

I silenced him with a kiss, sliding my tongue into his open mouth and communing with him with intimacy and affection and love, but no lust. At least not right at that moment.

After I came up for air I asked, "What do you want, Nate?"

"What do you mean?" he mumbled, resting his cheek against mine.

"Did you just want tonight? Or do you want more?"

"More," he replied without hesitation.

"Do you want forever?"

"Only with you." Again no hesitation. "But it won't be easy, G-Man," he continued, meeting my gaze, "because I'm seriously fucked up right now. I'm already terrified because of what happened and thinking I'm going to lose you because this can't be real and I'm just—"

Once more I captured his lips to kill his words.

"You didn't know I was here, did you?" I asked when I finally broke the kiss.

"Not before I saw your car in the garage. But I had to find you. Mom and Dad and I talked all day Saturday. They really helped me see I was fucking things up pretty badly."

"We've both done a bang-up job of fucking things up, Nate."

"Yeah, maybe, but this time I put the whammy on it in a big way. They asked if I could live with myself if I never saw you again. They asked if I thought I might ever find someone else who'd make me feel the way you do. They asked if this fear—it's so stupid, too, because you offered yourself to me and I ran away fearing I'd lose you if I accepted. Anyway, they asked if this fear would be easier to conquer with or without you by my side." He let out a sigh, one full of self-flagellating frustration. "They helped me understand I could deal with the fear, get past it, with Uncle Farid you know, but that I'd never forgive myself if I didn't try to fix it. But I didn't know how."

"Seems you did a pretty good job moving us in that direction."

"But you know I'd never use sex as a tool. It just happened. I never would've considered doing it to get from point A to point B."

"Did it work? Do you think it got us to point B?"

"I think it got us over the obstacle long enough for me to see I was going to lose what mattered most if I didn't stop being a coward and start dealing with shit."

"Hey," I whispered, caressing his cheek. "You are many things, Nate Sawyer, but a coward is not one of them." Deciding to lighten the mood somewhat, I took a play from Kyle's and Teresa's conversational handbook and tried a lateral jump. "So... you licked your hand clean, and I'm pretty sure you enjoyed it."

His face scrunched up in embarrassment as he snickered. "I did enjoy it."

"You hated it before, those two times. You'd run to the bathroom and spit it out, then rinse with mouthwash. But what you did earlier wasn't a show for my benefit. Trust me, I could tell. So what changed?"

"You know, like every red-blooded boy—even the ones who deny it—I tasted mine when I was young and I tasted it again when I was older. It didn't disgust me but it didn't do anything for me either."

"You said you enjoyed it though. Just now, I mean. With mine."

"I told you before... you now, those two times when... well, I told you I didn't like it." With a sheepish grin he admitted in a hushed tone, "But I do. I have since the first time. I'd run to the bathroom, savor it, swallow it, then rinse and pretend like it was gross."

"You just said it doesn't do anything for you."

"I said mine doesn't do anything for me. And I have no interest in anyone else's. The thought of tasting or swallowing someone else's cum is a nonstarter. But yours... Well, I think it tastes better than mine. Which isn't the point. I like it because it's yours, it's part of you that you've given to me. I actually fantasize about it a lot, about tasting yours and swallowing it. I just couldn't admit it, couldn't let you know."

"Why?"

His voice took on a slight tremble when he answered, "The same reason I pretended like us messing around was stupid and silly and not going to lead anywhere."

Nodding slowly, still stroking his cheek, I whispered, "Fear?"

With a small shrug he answered, "Yeah, kind of... I was scared how I felt would be obvious, then the shit would hit the fan and everything would blow up—"

"Like he told you it would."

"Right. Like he said." Nate took a deep breath and huffed it out in frustration. "But it wasn't just that."

"No?"

"No. It wasn't all me, G-Man."

I smashed my eyes shut and sighed. After a quick shake of my head I looked at him. "My blind spot?"

His tone was apologetic yet caring when he said, "You acted like it was best friends getting off together, like it was no big deal, like it didn't mean anything. But I knew if it happened too much—hell, if it happened again after the second time—I wouldn't be able to hide how I felt. I knew you'd see it was a lot more than that to me."

What kind of idiot had I been to build the blind spot, to perfect the act of self-deception as a means to deny what I didn't want to face? I'd hidden so much from myself, so many truths. But then it took on a life of its own, growing and spreading until its shadow fell over everything that mattered.

Fucking Richard...

"I'm sorry, Nate—"

"Don't, G-Man. Don't apologize for what that fucktard did to us. He fucked with our heads and left us with this shitstorm blowing around in our brains."

I leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "It was just bad timing then, don't you think? You wanted it but were scared of it and I wanted it but was blind to how I felt."

He tucked his head under my chin, resting his cheek against my chest. "Everything was fucked up back then. It's all fucked up now, too, but in a different way."

Wrapping my arms around him and hugging him close, I kissed the top of his head. "It's not fucked up now, Nate," I whispered, "but it's complicated and messy and imperfect."

"We can fix it, though, right, G-Man? Don't you think we can fix it?"

"I know we can, Little Big Man. Together we can do anything."

* * * * *

We'd made coffee, stoked the fire back to a warming blaze, pulled a blanket over our still naked forms, and snuggled together on the couch as we talked.

"Uncle Farid taught me to be brutally honest with myself. That helped me realize my penchant for hooking up with women then walking away from them came from an inability to connect with them and the fact that I was constantly wondering if any of them could make me feel the way you do."

"Rita—"

"I thought you were getting together with Keigan. You'd been pulling away from me, slowly but noticeably. I know, I found out why later, but at the time I didn't know. I thought you were moving away from me so you could move toward Keigan. Rita was the luck of the draw, you might say. I realized if I lost you to Keigan, I'd be alone, really alone, so I needed to connect somehow to someone before that happened.

"But I couldn't connect with them, G-Man. At first I didn't care because it was just meaningless sex, then I cared because I felt it was something I should do, then I fixated on it with Rita because I thought I was going to lose you."

"Dude, you told Keigan how to find me."

"I know. I was scared of anything happening between us and I wasn't sure about your feelings anymore since you'd hidden them away so well, but I wanted you to be happy. If it wasn't going to be with me, then I wanted to help you find someone who could make you feel that way."

Shaking my head, dismayed at how much time and effort we'd wasted over the years because of The Fiend's pernicious tinkering in our heads, I huffed out a breath.

"What?" Nate asked.

I decided to put aside the unending anger and frustration over what I couldn't change and instead focused on us, the beautiful man in my arms who completed me because he contained part of my soul, the part I wasn't born with but was destined to discover.

"When did you know?" I asked.

"Know what?"

"Huh. That question had a complete thought with it in my head." We both chuckled. "When did you know you had feelings for me?"

He shrugged. "When Richard started messing with my head, I was about thirteen. The first time he brought up my feelings making you leave, he asked me if I felt more for you than friendship. I hadn't thought about it up until that point. I mean, I knew I had strong feelings for you but I always thought it was a mix of loving my best friend and hero worship."

"Hero worship?" I squawked, my cheeks flaming. I actually shuddered at the thought.

Nate gave me look that clearly said I was daft. "Come on, dude, you were the most popular guy in school, you were the best looking guy, you were always the hottest and friendliest and most charismatic guy around. Everybody wanted to be your friend, if not more."

My blush crept down my neck and up into my ears.

"Don't," he chastised me with an affectionate grin. "You know it's true." Waving away our tangent, he continued, "Anyway, Richard asked me if I had other feelings for you. I'd never thought about it before. I knew I loved you more than I'd ever loved anybody else because you were BMOC yet you never left me behind. You always kept me by your side no matter what. And regardless of who came along, you always made me feel like the most important person in your life."

"You always have been," I mumbled.

"I know." He gave me a quick kiss. "I know, G-Man. But when he asked how I felt, it made me stop and think about it for the first time. I started looking at how I felt and what I thought and began realizing there was something else there.

"By the time I turned fourteen, I'd come to realize I was madly in love with you. Which totally fucking freaked me out because I also realized I was attracted to you sexually. It was like this total emotional thing that made you the center of my universe."

"But you were straight..."

"Yeah. I knew I only looked at girls, never looked at a guy for more than comparative purposes, so how screwed up was I to find I was actually fantasizing about my best friend, so in love with him that I wanted to spend my life with him? Well, I thought I was pretty well off my rocker, which Richard capitalized on by beating into my brain that I was straight and needed to find a woman and definitely shouldn't think of you as more than a friend lest I blow up our relationship and lose you forever."

I bracketed his face with my hands and pulled him to me, planting a slow and fiery and loving kiss on his lips. Then leaning my forehead against his I whispered, "You'll never lose me, Nate. Never. The only thing that can take me away from you is death. Until that comes, you're stuck with me."

"Darn," he grumbled through a growing smile. "That'll suck."

"Yeah," I breathed against his lips, "it's gonna be miserable for us, but that's just how it's got to be."

He kissed me before saying, "We'll just have to suffer, I guess." Nate leaned back a bit so he could meet my gaze. With curiosity in his voice he asked, "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"When did you realize how you felt about me?"

"The day I met you."

"What?"

"Don't look so shocked. I didn't know what to call it at the time, but the moment I saw you sitting alone that day, something drew me to you. After spending about an hour with you, I knew you were going to be an important part of my life, though I couldn't have said why I thought that. By the end of the day, I couldn't imagine not knowing you and I couldn't imagine a future without you. And within a month I knew I needed you to stop the ache in my chest when we were apart and I needed you to create that giddy euphoria I felt when we were together. I constantly wanted to hear your voice, see your face, make you smile, know you were happy.

"So by the time I was eleven, I knew I was in love with you. I also knew I loved you more than I thought I could ever love anybody. It was like you were a part of me that I hadn't known I was missing until we met."

Scrunching up his face with a facetious scowl he complained, "But I was such a scrawny, insignificant kid who couldn't get a girl to look at me twice!"

"You've always been beautiful to me, Nate," I quietly told him, stroking his cheek. "From the first day we met you've always been the most beautiful person in the world to me. By the time I came out I was desperate to touch you, to kiss you, to explore your body with my hands and lips and tongue. I wanted so badly for you to have sex with me. I also knew I could go my entire life without any of that so long as it kept you in my life." I shrugged. Then I grinned. "That you turned into a total fucking hottie is just icing on the cake, but my feelings would be the same even if that hadn't happened."

"You're... you're just amazing, Mr. Beaumont."

"So are you, Mr. Sawyer."

* * * * *

"Listen, G-Man, because I'm being serious. What happened... what we shared... that was powerful voodoo. No, I'm serious, dude! It's like something happened, like the fear in me isn't as strong as it was or something. It's like... I don't know how to say it... It's like that was the most intimate and potent experience of my life—I don't just mean that was the best orgasm I've ever experienced, which it was. But it was a lot more than the most satisfying sex I've ever had. It was a spiritual experience or something. What I felt was so profound and so potent—What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because you're telling me exactly what I've been thinking."

"You felt it too, huh?"

"Oh yeah. Couldn't you tell?"

"Oh yeah. And..."

"What?"

"All I could think when you were coming undone was that I was so happy to see you like that and spending the rest of my life making you feel that way would... well, it would make me happy."

Suddenly he began to blush, so he ducked his head, pressing a kiss against my chest.

"What?" I asked. "What was that look for?" He mumbled something against my skin but I couldn't understand him. Pulling his face up so I could see him, I said, "Repeat that."

"I want you to teach me." His voice was so soft, so meek. And very embarrassed.

"Teach you what?"

"Teach me how to make you feel good."

"Oh, that's easy. I can teach you all about gay sex."

"No, G-Man, I don't want to know about gay sex. I've never been attracted to a man, I've never looked at one and wondered what it would be like, nothing like that at all. I'm straight—"

"I'm not challenging your heterosexuality, Nate."

"I didn't say you were. I'm just telling you I don't need to know how to make every man feel good, because that's never going to happen; I only need to know how to make you feel good, because that's all I want to do."

With a mischievous smirk I asked, "You mean teach you how to suck my dick, how to take me to the hilt?"

He blushed and nodded.

"Teach you how to rim me like a pro?"

He ducked his without breaking eye contact. And nodded again.

"Teach you how to use your fingers to make me whimper and whine until I explode?"

He was holding back a chuckle even as his blush deepened, his dark skin growing progressively darker. Another nod.

"Teach you where all my buttons are so you know how to play me like an instrument?"

He nodded once more but remained silent.

"Teach you how to bottom?" I doubt this part, which could be an issue. I'm versatile. Though, if what he did to me earlier is any indication, I might just become a pig bottom. For him anyway.

His mouth worked a few times and his blush exploded. I could see it spreading down his neck. He surprised me when he nodded.

"I'm not exactly built for first-timers, Nate."

"I'm not asking for a first time."

"What?" I nearly shouted the question.

Vigorously shaking his head, he cupped my cheeks and stared into my eyes. "No, G-Man, that's not what I meant. I mean I'm not asking you to be my first like some kind of springboard to other experiences with other men. I'm not asking you to take my cherry so I can move on from there. I'm saying it's just part of what I want to give you, which is all of me, and you're going to be my first and only. I want us to be equal, all of me for all of you."

"Just..."

"What, G-Man?"

"I won't lie to you, Nate. It's going to hurt at first. Like I said, I'm not built for first-timers."

"But you'll help me through it, right? You'll do whatever you can to prepare me, and you'll teach me, and you'll take care of me, right?"

"Of course! You know I will."

"That means you're built just right for me," he said sotto voce before capturing my lips.

* * * * *

"When you had sex with guys," he interrupted, "do you remember—Fuck! Of course you remember. When you'd hook up with a guy, I always asked if you played pitcher or catcher."

"Right. We always asked about each other's extracurricular activities. I don't know, it was like we were—Oh..."

Nate watched me closely as I considered what he'd said.

Giving him an inquisitive look, a sudden thought popped out of my mouth. "You were jealous."

"I was. All the time. Couldn't help it."

"As for pitching and catching, you wanted to know if I'd gotten over the panic attacks."

"You were panicking?" So gentle a tone, so worried an expression. He looked quite worried.

"I never told you. I should have." After a deep breath I continued, "I couldn't do it, Nate. I should've told you what trying to bottom did to me, how much fear it engendered, the blood rushing in my ears and the clammy sweat and the uncontrollable shaking and the blinding flashes of terror and... well, the panic. It was always so overwhelming. All I could think of was Richard and what he did to me. I didn't tell you because I thought I was pathetic to let something from so long ago control my sex life today. That's why I just told you I was scared of doing it."

"How did you know you'd like it?"

"Fingers and toys."

"Toys?" His eyebrows climbed toward his scalp and his eyes widened.

"Dildos, Nate."

"You have dildos?"

"Yes." Blushing profusely and dropping my face I admitted, "And if you must know, my favorite is the one that looks like yours."

It was his turn to blush.

"Maybe we'll get a chance to play with them together," he said hopefully. "But that sidetrack aside, the point was I always asked because you told me you were scared to try it. Also, after the first few times, I realized by your tone and expression that you were frustrated and disappointed sometimes when you'd tell me you topped, like that hadn't been your first choice."

"I'm versatile. I like both. I just never got to bottom before tonight."

"Right."

He looked at me expectantly.

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked him.

"Isn't what obvious?"

"The answer to the question swirling around in your head."

"Why did it go so smoothly tonight?"

"Yeah, that question."

"What's the answer?"

"I'd think it was obvious. I was scared before, sure, scared of having a panic attack in front of somebody who might not care or might try to push or might do something untoward, even if it was to freak out and leave me while I tried to get my shit together.

"I didn't have that fear with you. And not just because I knew if I panicked that you'd take care of me. That wasn't it at all. I wasn't scared because I always knew there had to be someone who could get me through that barricade, who could help me overcome the phobic response I'd always had."

"You thought it was me?"

"I knew it was you, Nate. I think I've always known. There's no one I trust more, no one I care about more, no one else I'd want to help me experience that. Even if I wanted it before with someone else, it was a shallow want, not strong enough to push me."

"You didn't even hesitate."

"I'd never hesitate with you. If there's something I can't accomplish with you, it simply can't be done."

* * * * *

A bed of glowing coals stood in place of the blazing fire we'd rebuilt. We'd talked for hours, long enough to realize neither of us would get any sleep that night.

"What did you mean when you said you needed to know?"

"When?"

"Earlier. When things were just starting to heat up—Oh, you asshole!" My hand leaped to my neck, cradling it as though I'd suffered a grievous wound. "You marked me, didn't you?"

His grin blossomed into a full smile even as he turned away from me. A brief nod, slight and abashed, then he locked his eyes on me again. "Yeah. Sorry."

"No you're not!" I accused with mock horror, though I was smiling as well. "Both sides?" I leaned first this way then that way so he could get a good look.

Nate reached out, gently tracing beneath one ear with his fingertips and beneath the other with his knuckles, the touch light and affectionate.

"Oops."

"How bad?"

"Well, one's not so bad."

I waited. When he said nothing more, I prompted, "And the other?"

"Uh... Yeah, you see... It's... Well, G-Man, the first one's pretty big and pretty dark."

"And right below my ears! How can I hide that?"

My outrage didn't sound convincing to me, so I knew it didn't fool him. Something about Nate marking me that way titillated and thrilled. Whatever disapproving looks I might receive from mindless prudes meant little to me. The reason I liked the idea was simple: Nate had claimed me as his, had marked his territory. The caveman in me found that idea pleasing, not to mention stimulating.

Even as his chuckle burgeoned into a full laugh, a deep, throaty sound that was honest and resonant and pleasurable to hear, he cringed while replying, "It's winter, dude. Wear a scarf."

I smacked him playfully, my palm against his bare chest making enough noise to sound like a fatal strike when in reality it caused him to laugh louder and harder. Shaking my head, I joined him.

Eventually our raucous outburst slowed enough for us to catch our breath. Once I felt I had enough air to speak, I returned to the previous topic.

"So, back to the question I asked. When everything was heating up between us, you said, 'I need this. I need to know.' What did you need to know?"

His expression turned serious, contemplative. Nate took my hand and wove our fingers together, kissing my knuckles, the back of my hand, my wrist.

"You don't have to—"

Something akin to a determined look passed across his face, promptly replaced by adoration.

"All I've wanted is for you to find your happiness, ever since we were kids that's all I've wanted. You've always brought such happiness to me despite the fact that we weren't what I wanted.

"And we're so fucking happy together, G-Man. We have a great relationship, we love each other dearly, we'd do anything for each other. So I wondered... I mean, I thought, what if I'm the one? What if it's me that helps you get out of the past and into a future you deserve? What if I'm the guy who gives you your happily ever after?

"We messed around twice before and it failed for various reasons, part of it sabotage on my part. So tonight, once things started to go that way, once I realized I wanted more than anything to have at least one time with you when maybe things could be perfect, I needed to know if we could do it, if we could be intimate despite the baggage, if we could have sex that was rich and satisfying and joyous and wonderful. I needed to know if it would be as awesome as the fantasies I've had since we were teenagers. I needed to know if I could spend the rest of my life with you and never need a woman to provide something that I wasn't getting."

"Did you get your answers?" I asked in a hushed tone. For some reason I was fearful, though I knew I needn't be.

His answer was emphatic. "Yes. Absolutely. Without room for doubt."

He set his coffee cup on the table, took mine from me and put it with his, and finally stretched out on top of me. When our lips met it was like lightning and fire and the sun blazing bright.

"What we shared tonight was only the tip of the iceberg. What we shared tonight was magical and fulfilling and more than I've ever shared with anyone before, more than I ever thought possible. You have a lot more to teach me and I have a lot more to experience, which means being with you is going to blow my mind and leave me reeling. Not only that, but being with you means being with the only person on this planet who completes me." Very softly he added, "Nobody can possibly compare to that."

"I love you, Little Big Man."

"I love you, G-Man."

My eyes closed and my heart raced and my spirit soared when he leaned in for another kiss.