The M.I.L.F. Man

"I love you in a place where there's no space or time"

Chas and Cielo told me they were done, but I'll be doing proofreading and tweaking before I'm satisfied. There may even be some loose ends to tie up--still pondering that. Even so, I wanted to post this final chapter on time anyway. For you...

Chas did a namaste bow to me. With a champagne flute between his hands.

And the wind tousled that jet black hair...and those electric blue eyes opened as he rose from that bow--with the ocean waves undulating behind that almost naked body, he was like something I'd daydreamt. I mean just too delicious to be real flesh and blood.

I took the flute, smiled and said, "You are...really..."

He sat down in the sand next to my deck chair and gave me a winsome little, "Really...?"

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm trying to say. I see that smile."

"They do say scars add character."

I reached to run a finger along the large, almost star-shaped one that had been torn into his side. It had taken a long time to heal completely. He was gradually making peace with it.

So I said, "This one is a badge of honor."

And his smile deepened as he ran a finger down from my nose to my chin to my chest and on down between my breasts...

"Playin' with fire, son," I warned.

"Yes, I know," he said. Leaning in for a kiss that got me 'way more tipsy than that champagne ever could. "I never quite understood the concept of honeymoons until we finally got 'round to having one."

"It wouldn't have meant as much before," I said.

He eased his way up onto that deck chair, gazed into my eyes and said, "Do continue..."

And I sighed and touched one of the little burn scars on his arm. "Are you shrinking me now?"

"A little bit."

There was a long lull. I watched the waves. He watched me.

And then he said, "You've slept through the night for over a week now. That's a good sign."

He was talking about my shivering fits. It had taken a week or two for the emotional issues to bubble up to the surface. We were still in survival mode at first. 

Mine manifested as night terrors. I'd leap up screaming and feeling around the bed like I was trying to find something. Him, probably. And I'd wake up in his arms wondering how I got there.

You don't remember anything afterwards. It's scary. And dangerous. You could hurt yourself or someone you love—that's in extreme cases, but it does happen.

Chas seemed annoyingly normal. Slept even more deeply, as if his whole soul needed the rest. I hated to disturb him. Obi had found us a sharp "trick cyclist" to help with that.

That was Papa Guy's word for "psychiatrist." Described mine perfectly. She was like a unicyclist circling around the issues very skillfully. Pedaling up, pedaling back...

So I said, "Well, Dr. Devillier, I'd rather not go there right now if you don't mind."

But he gave me a little forehead kiss and said, "And I've taken you there, haven't I? You're trembling a little."

I shut my eyes and said, "Because...well, that's what I meant about it meaning more. Being here like this. I was..."

He caught me in his arms to stop me from going all the way "off."