Love, Milo

I like to think falling in love is no different than skydiving.

I’ve never gone skydiving before, nor have I fallen in love yet… I think. But I wonder, and I assume.

The fear in the mid of it all, the steps you take before plummeting out into the sky, should scare many away from the crazy ass activity but instead draws many in.

You jump out of that airplane willingly, knowing the risk, knowing that the parachute on your back literally has your life threaded in its strings and material that created the contraption.

Knowing that when you need it most, you can pull that latch, and your safety net can fail.

But it’s a game of risk. A game of thrill. A game of Trust.

He’s my risk, my thrill, and he holds my trust. Maybe too much of me he holds; sometimes I’m afraid he might hold enough to the point where there’s nothing he can do to make me hate him. And it scares me, being so vulnerable so suddenly. Where did Raelynn two months ago go? I’m completely bare; my walls have been pealed and broken down by this tearing man in front of me.

What has Milo Evans done to me?

He looks at me in confusion. Eyes darting quickly from my left, then right, giving me a small shake of his head. ‘You- you know?’

My lips press together into a thin line as I nod. ‘Yes, Milo, I know. She told me—Jenna—she told me everything. Your dad, the arrangement, you both being forced. Everything.’

Turning around, I walk towards the kitchen and out of his hold on my shoulders.

His footsteps are heard shortly after, silence following my words. Alcohol bottles two and three sit on the marble counter of his kitchen.

He was drinking for how long, I don’t know, but the reason is pretty obvious.

He’d rather wallow in whisky than tell me the truth.

My lips twist as I grab their necks and walk to the trash can, stepping on the lever so the top pops open to throw the empty bottles in. Turning around, I lean against the counter and fold my arms as I look at Milo, his head inclined a bit as he looks at me from under his brow like a dog ready to be disciplined.

‘Why didn’t you tell me sooner?’ It comes out in a whisper, disappointment dripping off my words. ‘I thought we were past the part where we kept secrets from each other, but clearly, I can’t trust you as much as I thought I could.’

He shakes his head. ‘Don’t say that, you can trust me, Raelynn. If there’s one person you trust, let it be me. I didn’t know what to do or to think… to say, I—‘

‘I don’t know, maybe you’re engaged to someone?’ Sarcasm laces my voice as I step toward Milo, pushing my body off the counter.

‘And then what?’ He strains in a hushed voice, taking slow steps towards me as well. ‘I tell you I’m engaged, and then what? You would’ve hated me, Rae. It would’ve been a shit show and you know it. Even now, with everything you know, you’re upset with me.’

I swallow the annoyance, the tone of my next words soaked with it, ‘I’m upset because you kept it from me!’ We stand in front of each other now with an inch separating us as I stare up at his sorrowful face.

‘I kept it from you because I didn’t want to lose you!’

‘That’s what talking is for, Milo. Couples talk out their problems, and when they talk, they resolve things. I want and need you to talk to me,’ desperation wraps around my voice like a blanket, my eyes stinging. ‘How do I know you aren’t keeping anything else a secret? I feel like I barely even know who you are sometimes,’ I laugh briefly. ‘I want to be a part of your life, not discover it from the sidelines like some side piece—’

‘You aren’t a side piece, Raelynn.’

‘Well, you sure as hell make me feel like I am.’

Milo takes my left hand in his right, the mere size of his fingers encasing softly around mine, threading between them and squeezing. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,’ He utters softly, pressing a hooked finger under my chin. ‘I’m sorry I kept it from you. I’m sorry I made you feel less than the most important woman in my life.’ He tenderly rubs his thumb across my chin, and my eyes blur with tears as I lick my lips, sniffling. ‘You want to know me? Ask. Ask me anything, and the answer is yours. I’m yours.’

A moment passes. ‘Did she ever mean anything to you?’

His hand drops to my braids, and he picks one up, sliding his hand down it before answering. ‘Yes. Long ago and briefly,’ He answers, my heart cracking and shifting in my chest.

A sharp pain is running right through it. Jenna told me they hadn’t cared for each other; I dropped my head, ashamed of the tears falling from my eyes because I shouldn’t care who he’d been with before me.

But with their agreement, my worry can’t help but grow.

‘Hey,’ he says, lifting my head with his fingers; I watch his eyes follow a tear down my cheek, and a pained expression falls on his face. ‘It was years ago, my love. A pinpoint amount of interest was formed for her, and it was gone before I realized it. As it did with others, but… fucking hell, Raelynn, no one’s ever made me feel the way you do. Even when I’m not sober, you completely consume me.’

His words wrap around my heart, sheltering it. I nod as he swipes one of my tears away.

I stare up at him, a small smile rising at the corner of my lips. ‘What’s your favorite color?’

He blinks, confused, most likely unexpecting the basic questions.

Then he laughs, his chest deflates as he exhales a long sigh, laying his palm on my hip. ‘Brown.’

I tilt my head. ‘Brown? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything brown before.’

He smirks at me, lifting his hand to the side of my face, dragging his fingers along my skin, tracing my jaw, his thumb gliding over my bottom lip and pulling it down. ‘The things I could respond to that with.’

My eyes immediately widen when I realize where his mind has gone. My cheeks were burning and flustered.

‘But your eyes,’ he says. ‘Your skin, your hair. You’re my favorite kind of brown.’ He lowers his face and breathes me in. ‘Hell, you smell like Heaven.’

Milo slips his hand around my waist and slams me into his body, causing me to gasp softly, an ache pulsing between my legs.

His kiss falls on my neck and I put a hand on his face, pulling back a little. He looks at me with furrowed brows, and I smile. ‘You need a cold shower…’ I say. ‘And some shampoo.’ I lift and hand, ruffling his messy hair as we share laughs.

In seconds, I’m hauled up in his arms, my legs wrapped around his waist, and I’m carried to the bathroom, where he lowers me to the floor and takes a step back, pulling off his loose tie.

It drops to the floor, and I watch with parted lips as he unbuttons his wrinkled white dress shirt and slides it off.

I may smell like Heaven, but he is Heaven.

How can a man’s body be so well made? Every muscle is defined and previously hidden behind the material of clothes.

My breath picks up as he raises an eyebrow and points his chin at my body.

‘Are you going to undress for me, or would you like if I peel your clothes off one by one?’ He grabs his belt buckle, undoing it, his black slacks dropping to the floor.

He steps out of them, leaving him in just his boxers, walking past me to turn the shower on.

His back faces me while he bends over, scars on full display, and he doesn’t seem to care one bit that I may be staring at them.

I swallow the lump he’s created in my throat and shake my head, finding it hard to direct my eyes away from his chest when he turns around to face me.

‘I have two hands. I can undress myself.’

A crooked smile plays on his face, leaning against the sink with folded arms and staring at me. ‘Go on then.’

A wave of embarrassment washes over me from his gaze dragging up and down my clothed body. A simple black blouse covers my top half, and blue mom jeans on the bottom.

I curl my fingers over the hem of my top, lifting it up and over my head, my braids falling down my back and shoulders. His eyes bore into me like a laser, I feel them on my breast, my stomach, my face, and it serves me.

Left in my bra, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. ‘You’re staring.’

‘I’m your boyfriend, Darling. Of course, I’m staring at you,’ He smirks. ‘Unless you want me to look away. Is that what you want?’

Is it?

Yes? No.

No, it’s not.

I like his eyes on me. It gives an odd boost of confidence. Before Milo, men’s eyes on me make me hide and shrivel into a dark corner. Before Milo, I hadn’t wanted any eyes on my body for fear it would remind me of the eyes I just barely saw while—

I close my eyes, shaking my head at Milo and shutting out the image of the blue eyes. Unbuckling my jeans and then unzipping them.

‘Raelynn, you don’t have to, you know.’ Milo’s voice makes me open my eyes. He stands in front of me now, a hand on mine, stopping it. ‘You can shower after me if you’d like that more.’

‘No, I’m alright,’ I say weakly, shuffling my jeans down my thighs and to the floor. Milo goes to open his mouth to say something else, but he seems to lose track of his words, stuttering as his gaze travels down my nearly bare body.

I turn my back to him, gathering my braids in my hands and around my shoulder. I look sideways at Milo. ‘Unclip me?’

He clears his throat and nods, stepping closer to me and wrapping his hands gently over the material of my bra. His fingers graze my skin and goosebumps scale my arms and legs, shivers and a chill making my eyes flutter. He affects me like no one else; his softest touch can make my center throb, and I don’t know what to do about it all.

One moment I want to pounce at him; the next, I’m the old Raelynn, scared and afraid of intimacy.

I guess it’s a good thing he’s so patient with me.

Nothing but the water hitting the bottom of the tub like a rainstorm at night fills the silence of the bathroom.

Milo unclips me, his body flattening with mine from behind, pulling my bra off my shoulders for me and to the floor along with the other pieces of clothing. His bulge presses into my ass, and he cups my breast in his large hands… squeezing. God. My eyes close momentarily, attempting to control myself.

‘You’re the only one on my mind,’ He whispers in my ear. ‘Twenty-four seven, day and night. It’s you. Not Jenna and not anyone else. You.’

His body drops, and he curls his fingers around my panties and slides them down to my ankles, where I step out of them, turning around to face him.

Lost in his cloudy eyes, I press a hand on his chest. This must be it, me jumping out of the airplane. My heart freefalls, plummeting out that Goddamn plane every time he speaks these words to me. Like I’m falling but never hitting the ground, or if I ever get to the end, Milo will catch me. Either way, I feel myself falling, and I’ve been slowly falling since I first met him.

I barely realize he’s taken off his boxers, holding my waist close as I inhale.

‘Milo,’ I say in almost a panic.

His brows form a V shape. ‘Yes?’

‘I um… I think I might be falling in love with you,’ I admit hesitantly, scared.

His body goes rigid under my hand on his chest, his eyes glowing brighter by the second as my words swarm his head.

‘I am falling in love with you,’ I correct myself, stumbling over my words like I’m the one who’s been drinking. ‘This probably isn’t the best night to tell you this, with the things that happened today, but if I didn’t say it now, I don’t think I could find another chance to tell you. If you don’t feel the same way, that… okay. I just really needed to tell you it. That I’m falling in love with you.’

I sound terrible; my words are too unsteady; I shouldn’t have told him. What if this makes him distant? What if he hasn’t been falling in love, too? I said it was okay, but is it really? He’s staring at me, expressionless, and the fact that I can’t tell what he’s thinking makes my mind run wild with possibilities.

I lick my lips, close my eyes, stepping back, his hands slipping from my waist before tightening again.

‘Where are you going?’ he asks almost sadly.

‘I…’ have no idea. But I lose the ability to fucking form the words. ‘You’re silent.’

‘Sorry,’ he says with a grin. I grin so large I can practically see every perfect tooth in his mouth. ‘I had to make sure I wasn’t making this up. That I wasn’t dreaming.’

I give him a small smile and shake my head. ‘Nope. Not dreaming.’ I poke his nose with my pointer finger, and he blinks. ‘I’m all real.’

He cups my face in his hand and hums. ‘Then, in that case, I’m falling in love with you too, Raelynn.’ His lips graze mine as he speaks, so close, so warm, the shower’s steam filling the bathroom. ‘And I’m falling fast,’ he grins, ‘so make sure to catch me.’

‘I will,’ the words fall from my lips, getting lost in his mouth as he takes my lips with his, kissing me.

It’s different now, more forceful, maybe, filled with a desire and longing like I might turn into mush and melt away in his hold. Despite how much I feel I might do just that, I hold his face and respond with the same force to show him I’m not going anywhere.

He picks me up, carrying me into the shower, where the cold water splashes on his back and shields me.

Milo gasps, his eyes closing as I drop to my feet. He stiffens. ‘Shit, that’s fucking cold!’ He hisses as water runs down his body.

I laugh, covering my mouth, cackling at his stiff figure under the water, each muscle in him tense and ridged.

He looks up at me. ‘You think it’s funny?’ He questions in a playful tone.

He reaches for my hand, and I try to yank it away with a yelp but am too slow. He pulls me towards him and turns us around.

And he was right, it’s fucking freezing.

I gasp as the water immediately falls down my body, making me shiver and stiffen, just like the laughing man in front of me.

I shuffle out of the way of the shower spray and into Milo’s arms. ‘Milo! I hate you.’

He nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck, rubbing my wet back. ‘Oh yeah? Because just a moment ago, you were saying how terribly you’re falling in love with me.’

I roll my eyes with a smile and turn around, adjusting the water to a lukewarm temperature. It immediately satisfies me, Milo falling in line behind, reaching over to grab the body wash and my loofah, dropping some on it, and softly scrubs my back with the soap.

‘Ask me something,’ he says. ‘You told me you feel like you don’t know me sometimes; that should change.’

His hand wraps around me with the loofah and rubs along my stomach. My hand slides up his arms, feeling his muscles flex as he washes me.

‘Okay…’ A harder question to answer than I’d expect.

I want to know so many things that I don’t know where to start. ‘Why do you teach if you’re, Y’know, rich?’

‘I don’t teach for the money. I teach because I love children. My father’s money might not always be with me. I’ll have to live off something when that happens. I’d rather it be something I love doing.’

I lean my head back on his shoulder, sad that that question led to his father. Even with the mention of him, I can tell the change in his demeanor.

‘Your turn.’

Turning around as he tilts his head, I explain, ‘Ask me a question now.’ I pluck the loofah out of his hand and step around him so his back faces the water, and I’m shielded again.

While water pours down his chest, I rub the soap along him.

‘How are you so beautiful?’

I smile. ‘A real question.’

‘That is a real question.’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘Fine. Where would it be if you could travel and visit one place?’

I bite my lip, my scrub slowing as I think of an answer. ‘France.’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘Yeah? Why is that?’

‘It’s beautiful there. At least, it looks like it. I always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower someday in my life. Plus, I took a few years of French in college, and I can speak it pretty well.’ I’m not fluent, but I’m damn near it.

‘No way,’ he says, shaking his head.

‘Yes, way.’

He smirks at me. ‘I don’t believe you. Speak a sentence in French.’

I take on his challenge to prove me right.

‘Alright…’ I look down between us briefly, then back at his face. ‘Ta bite est énorme.‘

The smile on his face grows immediately, his cheeks burning a bright red with blush. ‘Fuck.’

I realize exactly what’s going on.NôvelDrama.Org: text © owner.

Gripping my waist and whispering under his breath another curse, he leans his head back, the muscles of his neck showing to me for a moment before he looks back down at my embarrassed face.

I’m such an idiot.

I assumed he just didn’t know French! That he’d never actually know what the sentence I said meant. Clearly, that isn’t the case.

Otherwise, I wouldn’t have blatantly told him his dick is big.

I close my eyes as he lowers his head to the side of mine and grazes his lips on my earlobe.

‘Cette grosse bite est à toi, mon amour.’