Page 46 of Seductive Swimmer
I propel my hips in and out of her in a frenzy, as she meets my every push. It’s real, it’s raw, and it’s intense. Seconds later I see her clench the sheets in her fists as my entire body convulses with the power of my orgasm. Savannah chants my name as I spill into her. When our bodies sag with relief from reaching that pinnacle of ecstasy, neither one of us can move for several moments. Eventually, I make myself get up and deal with the condom and bring back a warm cloth for Savannah. I pull back the sheets and tuck us in underneath, making the assumption that I’m staying over tonight. I don’t think I could leave her side, unless she forced me to.
Savannah’s head resting on my chest, my hand lazily stroking her hair, and her hand tracing patterns over my skin is as close to heaven as I think I’ll ever get. I never paid much attention to what cameaftersex. But I do with Savannah. Every moment of intimacy feels brand new and amazing.
“That’s the first time you’ve called me Van,” she says quietly. I lift my head to look down at her, searching to see how she feels about that.
“I liked it,” she continues. “When you call me ‘love’, it doesn’t feel special. I can see you calling any woman that. But Van is me. Does that make sense? I sound like a weirdo.”
She buries her head in my chest, and I tip her chin back up to look at me.
“You don’t sound weird at all. It’s true, I used to toss around ‘love’ as a nickname. It’s the Brit in me.”
“Haven’t you lived in the states for over a decade?” she teases, a wicked glint in her eye.
“Cheeky girl. Yes, I have, but it slips out. Once a Brit, always a Brit. However, you should know something.” I pause, waiting to make sure she’s paying attention. I hadn’t intended on revealing this, but I think I should. “Since I met you, I haven’t called any other woman ‘love’. Only you.” I kiss the top of her head. “So, it is special now. You’re special.”
I feel her cheeks lift against my chest and I know she’s smiling. We lay there in comfortable silence, both absorbing what I said. I’ve all but declared that I’m falling for her, which I never would have envisioned doing with a woman, let alone after just a few weeks of knowing her. But I can’t deny what I’m feeling, to myself or to her.
“Tell me about your leg?”
My hand stills. Savannah lifts her head and looks at me, her eyebrows drawing together.
“Sorry, you don’t have to. I was just curious,” she says softly.
I make my fingers resume their motion, running softly over her silky hair.
“No, it’s okay. I don’t think about it much anymore, but that doesn’t mean I can’t talk about it or anything,” I reassure her with a quick kiss to her lips.
When she sets her head back down, her chin resting on her hands so she can look at my face, I take a deep breath and begin.
“The short version is, I was in a car accident and had multiple surgeries on my leg. The long version is a bit more dark and twisty.”
“I want to know your dark and twisty side, Alex.”
She’s opened herself to me, shown me her vulnerabilities. Now she wants to see mine. The problem is, I don’t know how much of myself I can reveal. There are some things about my parents and my childhood that I have never revealed to a soul except for Brayden. To share that with a woman I care about deeply feels absolutely gut-wrenching and terrifying.
“I was angry that night. A…conversation…with my parents didn’t go well.”
Conversation. More like a shouting match over the phone with my father who couldn’t understand why I hadn’t won the gold at Worlds the previous week. Never mind I was fighting the flu when I swam; I didn’t win. And that made my performance unacceptable.
“I had gone out for a drive to clear my head. Stopped at a bar. I only had one shot of whiskey, so I wasn’t drunk, not at all. But it did take the edge off my anger, and I suppose it took the edge off my reflexes as well.”
I pause for a moment, as the memories of that night wash over me. To this day, I don’t recall much. My brain’s way of protecting me from the trauma is what the social worker at the hospital said. If only my brain had also blocked out the next few months.
“When I took a corner too fast, I couldn’t correct in time and went head-on into a concrete barrier. The angle that I hit crumpled the driver’s side, shattering the bone in my upper leg and cracking some ribs. I was lucky there wasn’t anyone else on the road or it could have been worse.”
Savannah props herself up on her elbow, bringing her hand up to curl around my head in a soothing, protective hold. “This is why you stopped competing in swimming?”
I nod.
“Yes. It was three months before Olympic trials. I was still using crutches to get around, while my former teammates broke records and formed the team without me.”
“Oh, Alex.”
She doesn’t say how sorry she is for me, or tell me everything happens for a reason, or any of the other platitudes I’ve heard over the years. No, with two small words and her hands on my body, Savannah soothes my mind from the nightmares of my past.
