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Kennedy stood in a circle with other recovering addicts, all holding hands, murmuring prayers, intention, appreciation, and gratitude. Then as one, they said, “Keep coming back. It works if you work it,” the addiction recovery slogan heard the world over.
She smiled at her friends, people she only met today, people she didn’t know, grateful for all the support and care they provided. She’d been to a gazillion meetings over the past few weeks, finding her center among this group of non-judgmental individuals. Out in the world, they might not be so forgiving. But here, in the safety of closed doors, they let themselves feel, listen and comfort, agreeing to the safety of anonymity once they left.
After releasing the hands of the individuals standing next to her, Nancy sidled next to her, appearing sheepish and contrite.
Nancy had apologized repeatedly for sharing personal information with Iniko but said he’d convinced her he was her therapist. Kennedy felt betrayed by her sponsor—I mean, wouldn’t I have told her if I had a therapist? She shook her head. And am actively seeking another. Still, Nancy had helped her out of many a jam. So, somewhat guarded, Kennedy did her best to move forward with forgiveness.
“Is today the day?” Nancy said.
“Today’s the day,” Kennedy said, a stupid grin on her face. She couldn’t hold her happiness back. “I hope he doesn’t think I ran this time. I’ve tried to reassure him. He’s been busy getting ready for his world tour, though, so maybe he hasn’t noticed my absence.”
Nancy scoffed. “Not if he’s as into you as you’ve conveyed. I’ll bet he’s been tense, at times.”
“I’ve done my best to let him know everything’s okay. We’re not done. I needed time to, um...” Again her face split into a smile. “It’s a surprise. One I don’t want to share.”
Nancy’s face revealed sorry and shame. “I understand. So,” she said, her eyes growing concerned. “You’re okay with everything? Emotional health okay? I still care about you, you know.”
Kennedy’s eyes narrowed, unsure of how much to reveal. “I have my good days and my bad days. I’ve clung to these meetings for support. The stress of what I went through made my resolve weaken on many a night, and I literally had to force myself to come here sometimes. You know what’s funny, though?”
“What?” Nancy said.
“SoSo kept me from going over the edge. He’s such a sweet kitty. I’d want to drink or use and I’d think, ‘who will take care of my cat?’”
“Pets can help us heal. But it’s your motivation that works.”
“Yeah. And then I’d think, ‘I can’t do this to Dante. He’s been through so much.’”
Nancy looked at her earnestly. “Those are mature statements. Not many could see outside their own dark thoughts.”
“Thanks. I know it’s one day at a time.”
Nancy nodded.
“I’m just thankful all the secrets and the lies are over and out in the open. I’ve lived in fear for years. Oh—and thanks for the recommendation to the trauma therapist. She’s really helping me put things in perspective, helping me cope and heal. And her PTSD treatments are helping the nightmare of being trapped in a tiger pen with a raging tiger, a man with a gun outside pointed at me...” She shuddered. “Well, they’re starting to lessen.
“She’s also reinforcing that my flinging gravel and rocks at Iniko, yelling at him that I’m not his victim...she says it must have been empowering. I do feel stronger. I don’t know what I thought I would accomplish, though. The odds were against me. It was the only thing I could think to do, shackled like that. I’m glad I survived. Raja could have so easily turned on me. He was immersed in bloodlust. Or Akona. Animal instinct.” She smiled at Nancy, swirling her hand in the air. “Anyway. Enough of the terrifying past. I can’t thank you enough for turning me on to the therapist. Or for your endless support.”
“You’re welcome. The trauma therapist helped me, as well. We can all use a helping hand at times.”
“Right.” Kennedy glanced at her smartphone screen. “Well. I told him I’d be there shortly. I’d best be on my way. Wish me luck.” An upwelling of warmth flooded her heart, and she impulsively hugged her former sponsor.
Surprised, Nancy returned the hug. “I honestly don’t think you’ll need it,” Nancy said warmly. “Enjoy.”
Standing outside Dante’s luxurious apartment a short time later, she glanced up at it in nervous anticipation. She clenched and unclenched her fingers.
The building doorman spied her, stepped toward her and said, “Ms. Swift?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Mr. Vega said you’d be arriving. Right this way.” He opened the front door to her and led her to the elevator.
Once enfolded within, she clasped her hands together, practically wringing them. She glanced at her appearance in the mirror-lined walls. Today, she’d worn a loose fitting, raw silk, blue top and blue-gray pants, all soft and flowy. Nothing binding or restrictive. Sandals on her feet. No jewelry. A little mascara. Her hair hung in thick waves. She took a quick breath, released it and waited for the doors to open.
She practically gasped like a fangirl when the door opened.
He stood in his foyer, holding an exquisite long-stemmed deep red rose. He held it out to her, his green-gray eyes their usual velvety richness, a smile so broad it would shame the sun. Dressed in a soft, sleeveless mossy green shirt and jeans, barefooted, his hair a gleaming mass of dark softness, he looked as handsome and elegant as if he’d been wearing a tuxedo.
“Hi,” she said, feeling like her face might crack from smiling.
“Hi, beautiful.” He swallowed, extending the rose. “This is for you.”
“I can see that.” She reached for it, taking a long inhale. “It’s stunning.”
“It pales compared to you.”
“Is there somewhere we can put it? So I can hug you?”
He let out a long exhale like she’d said the right thing. He held his hand out for the rose. When she handed it over, he turned and slipped it into a vase of flowers meant to greet the eyes of the person stepping free from the lift. “You can hug me right now.” He took her in his arms, pulling her close. “God, I’ve missed you. It’s been hell.” He rocked her back and forth, his hard, eager heat pressing into her belly.
“I’m sorry. I had something to take care of,” Kennedy murmured into Dante’s shoulder, inhaling deeply, breathing in his scent.
“I know, I know. You needed to take care of your emotional wellbeing. I support that,” he said earnestly.
“Not just that, silly,” she said, leaning away from him. “You sound like you’ve been doing research on the recovering addict.”
“Guilty as charged. It kept me from yelling at the band.” He slanted his head and lowered his lips to her mouth.
His breath, a rich taste of minty mouthwash and coffee, mixed with hers, as his tongue gently entered. He softly circled his mouth against hers and hummed his appreciation, the sound vibrating against her chest.
Once they stopped kissing, her insides a frothing storm of need, Kennedy said, “I’ve got something to show you. It’s a surprise.”
His eyes darkened, and a quick, fleeting smile skittered across his intoxicating face. “Ready.”
She took his hand and led him through the house, straight for his bedroom.
Once they’d entered, she said, “Lie back.”
Dante gave her a quizzical look but lay down as asked. He propped his arms behind his head and gave her a searching, scorching look. “Am I going to get a show?” he asked, with a devilish grin.
“Sort of. The last time we did this I was scared. This time, I’m...” She shook her head and swallowed. “Less scared.” She let out a nervous laugh.
“What are you afraid of?” Dante seemed astonished. “Tell me.” He sat up, barely keeping himself from reaching for her, if his taut muscles could tell a story. “For days, I’ve told myself I’ll kiss away your fears, eat your nightmares for breakfast, suck the life out of your sorrows. Each time you told me of the horrible thoughts threatening to bring you down, I vowed to make you feel safe if you ever came back to me again.”
Her heart melted at his declaration and tears pricked her eyes. “Aw, Dante, honey...” she began. “Don’t make me cry. I never intended to leave you. I told you that, over and over.”
“I wanted to believe you, but I didn’t know. Not until you showed up today and I saw your face.”
“Dante...”
“Wait, there’s more. I’ve been thinking. A lot. I’ve let too much time go by. Made a lot of stupid moves...stupid decisions. Now I’ll do anything and everything I can to make you feel safe and loved.”
Her eyes widened. “Loved? Did you say loved? Using that?” She eyed his delicious erection, chuckled, then brought her attention back to his face.
“Loved,” he stated. “Using all of me. I’ve realized I’ve loved you since the day we met. I didn’t know what to do with it, with all the shit in my life, but I love you, Kennedy Swift.” He palmed his taut pants. “Let me show you how much.”
She threw back her head and groaned. “Oh, Dante. Music to my ears from your very magical mouth. I love you, too. I’d throw myself at you, but I want to show you something first.”
“Show it, then throw it. I’ll be good, but only for a second.” He settled back against his pillows, his eyes shining with delight.
She laughed at his ardent expression. She unbuttoned the top couple buttons of her shirt and peeled back the fabric. “Ta-da! I finally found a way to finish this tattoo. That’s the reason I stayed away. I didn’t want you to see a red, blotchy, peeling disaster.”
Dante’s eyes widened as she revealed the huge rose, the same color as the one he’d given to her, encircling the red spiral. His lips parted as if astonished.
“I had to do it. Had to. Iniko tainted the tattoo with his slimy hands. I couldn’t live with it unless I transformed it.” As she continued unclasping each button, pushing aside the roughhewn silk of her shirt, his eyes grew even larger. The snake-like trail of blood had been transformed into a vine, complete with leaves and spiraling green tendrils. A slender etching of spring green tracked the ribbon of red. “It’s...it’s my homage to transformation. To new life out of death. To something sordid becoming, well...” She shrugged. “To this.” She slid her hands under her waistband and pushed her pants and panties free from her hips and legs. The DV initials between her legs rested on delicate spiraling whispers of colorful roots that circled around her leg, ending at her foot. The whole thing had been done with exquisite artistry by a new tattoo artist Nancy recommended.
Dante’s eyebrows knit together. “Did a guy do that?” He scowled.
She laughed. “Yes, a two hundred fifty pound Samoan guy with more piercings than a pincushion. He’s a true artist. He has a tragic background, too. He told me stories of his healing as he inked me.” Her eyes softened as she regarded Dante, glowering with apparent jealousy. “We talked about you and me, love. He said he felt honored to be completing the story on my body...honored to be serving both of us.”
Dante gave a little shake of his head and bit his lip. “Sorry to get all possessive. It’s...it’s beautiful. You’ve made something exquisite out of a tragic story. You’re the beautiful one. You’re the bravest woman I know.”
Kennedy fanned her face. “Stop it. You’re going to make me cry. I have one more thing to show you, but you have to be naked, too.”
His eyebrows lifted and he swiftly removed his clothes, his rigid cock bobbing as he settled on the bed. “Show me.”
“I have to get closer.”
“Come here.”
She crawled on the cushy covers and straddled his warmth, suddenly self-conscious. “You...” She bit her lip. “You have to get close to see it.” Swamped with self-doubt, she said, “Don’t worry. If you don’t like it, or if it doesn’t work out between us, I can fill it in with red or something. I mean, I know you have to soar. You have to seduce the world. I...”
Dante put his finger on her lips and peered at the spiral, nestled inside the rose. His expression grew somber as he studied the center of the swirl, where the letters D.V. + K.S lay etched against her tender skin.
She bit her lips again, her face growing crimson. “I did it again, didn’t I?”
“Did what?” He looked genuinely confused.
“Overdid it without giving you a chance to weigh in.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m so overwhelmed, right now, I might be the one to cry. I need you in my life. I’m so in love with you, girl. Head over heels.” He splayed his hands and waved them through the air like fireworks. “I realize musicians don’t have a good track record when it comes to lasting relationships. I know that you know that. But some do. Sting and Trudie. Bono and Ali. Bon Jovi and Dorothea. I intend to add Dante and Kennedy to that list. I want longevity with you. I want you by my side. I want to come home to you. I know this might be sudden, but I want a commitment. I want to marry you if you’ll have me. Not yet...we can wait...down the road is fine...I’m cool with that, but...”
This time she was the one to press her fingers to his lips. Tears slid down Kennedy’s cheeks creating a stream of joy.
“Those better be happy tears,” he said, reaching out to wipe them away.
“They are. I’m overjoyed right now. We’ve been through so much, Dante, apart and together.” Her words stuttered out on sobs. “And the answer is yes. Yes.” She dropped her head to kiss him with reassurances, passion, and happiness. “Let’s make a fresh beginning. That’s what I want for today.”
“I intend to. Let’s let today be the start of a long life of today’s, my gorgeous lover. Now let me love you the way I’ve always wanted to love you.”
“How’s that?” she asked, stretching along his torso.
“Without secrets. With abandon. With all the love my heart can bear. Now, hush, baby. Enough talk.” He rolled out from underneath her, guiding her onto her back. The lyrics to a song by Vance Joy flowed from his mouth, “The first times always cut the deepest,” adding his own spin, “and the last times last the longest. With you, I get my fill.”
His deep sexy voice wound inside her soul in a purr, filling her with unparalleled elation. She wanted to laugh, she wanted to cry, as his lips softly traced trails along the new tattoo, murmuring words of love as he went.
“I love this part of you, and this,” he said as he moved across her breast, each touch of his lips burning sensation and sweet memory into her. “I love this part of you, and this,” he said, as his lips caressed her chest and belly, following the inky stream. His fingers danced across her skin like she were the strings to his guitar. “I love this part of you, and this,” he said, continuing his journey across her hipbone, to his initials between her legs. “And this part,” he said, lapping her slowly with his tongue.
She arched into his mouth.
“Words don’t do it justice,” he said, slipping his fingers inside her. He kissed and nibbled, sucked and hummed, clearly delighting in the pleasure he aroused in her.
When her muscles began to pulse around his fingers, and her excitement rocketed beneath her skin, he laughed, the sounds adding hums of joy to her pleasure. He let her come down slightly, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, before sinuously undulating along her body, coming to rest in the perfect position to slide inside. Slide he did, and they both let out long, deep groans of pleasure, with her wrapping her legs around him, to draw him deeper.
“You fit perfectly inside me, Dante,” Kennedy said, pushing his hair from his face.
“Like a glove,” he said. “I don’t want to be anywhere else, ever again.” He rested on his forearms and slanted his mouth for a tender kiss. He kissed her jawline, her cheeks and her eyelids. His fingers stroked her hair. “Love,” he said, pushing deep. “You,” he said, pulling back. “With all...” Push. “My.” Stroke. “Heart.”
“I feel the same way,” she said, looking into his eyes. “I’m crazy about you, Dante Vega. I love this crazy love.”
