Page 113 of Range
Still, my body was ravished. Stroked. Probed. Primed.
I’d never felt so much pleasurable pain. Josiah’s presence was as effectual as his absence. He had yet to address the obvious, but the thought caused me great despair. Tears stained my cheeks. Gloomed coated my sunshine. Heartache threatened to tear me to pieces.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
Josiah pulled me upward as he filled me with his semen. His mouth to my ear. More tears to my cheeks.
Sadness washed over me. The inexplicable kind. The consuming kind. The unavoidable kind. The resistant kind. The worst kind.
“I’m going to love you so good, Range, it’ll hurt. Physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual pain that settles in the bones and never leaves.”
I heaved, chest caving and world crashing around me. Simultaneously, it was coming together.
And, it did hurt.
It hurt so good.
“Hey. Hey. Hey,” Josiah whispered, ejecting himself from my warmth. “What’s the matter?”
He turned my body around to face him. My vulnerability was at its peak. I was falling. I was falling hard. And, didn’t have ona helmet, knee pads, or gloves. If he didn’t catch me, I’d be hurt. My body wouldn’t be able to stand the trauma.
“We don’t have much more time,” I reminded him. “I would like more time.”
“Shhhhh.”
He wiped my tears.
“This is temporary, love. Just an obstacle. One that was necessary to bring us together. Because of that, we must practice patience. Our day is coming, Range. And, then you’ll be asking a nigga if he has work or some shit cause I’m getting on your last nerve. Enjoy your time alone, Sunshine. Cause I’ll be in your pretty brown skin once they free me.”
He settled the waves. The tsunami sirens quieted. My heart slowed, returning to its original pace.
“Smile.”
Sniggering, my lips curled upward naturally.
“There goes my baby,” he murmured, kissing me.
Lips.
Nose.
Forehead.
Hair.
I laid my head on his wet chest. It didn’t matter that I was a mess. It didn’t matter that my hair was wild. I wouldn’t have more moments like this as often as I wanted. Not right now.
My mission to set Josiah free would end in victory, but we were unsure how that journey looked for us. It could be this morning when he walked out a free man. It could be this year. It could be next year. Rushing the judicial process was never my intention. It never ended well. Beating the judicial process was the better route. My route. The only route I was willing to pursue.
“I have some things to show you,” he revealed.
We exited the bathroom, fingers intertwined. A towel was around my chest. One was around his waist. Josiah dried me from head to toe in the beautiful shower with jets that massaged your body as you bathed.
I tiptoed on the cool floor, making a mental note of heat installation. I’d request it once Josiah’s freedom wasn’t on the line. For now, cool floors would suffice.
The bedroom that was a blur as Siah carried me into the shower, still lodged inside of me, came into full view. It, too, was a blank canvas. However, the necessities were intact. Balloons hung from the ceiling. However, stemmed roses didn’t end the strings. Small cards with silver keys of all sizes did.
I looked up at Josiah, waiting for his permission to indulge.
