Walk on Water (21 page)

“And by the way,” I followed up lightly. “When are we going to go there again? I really liked it.”

“It’ll be different with me, Rachel,” Luke said soberly. “It can’t be like it was…before.”

“Different is good,” I said confidently and placed my hand on his thigh.

It was the first time I had deliberately touched him on the leg. He didn’t seem to notice and even through the denim I could tell the muscle was soft. There was a new warm wetness between my legs. Whatever the sex would be, it would be with Luke, and everything, absolutely everything, I had ever wanted.

“Not necessarily,” Luke replied. “But it is reality.”

“Luke,” I began, trying to keep the urgency out of my voice as I dared to ask what I hoped would not be a death-knell kind of question. “Do
you
need time? I mean…to think about it?”

For a time my question hung heavily in the air between us as Angela Bofill sang about
giving in to her feelings.
Luke had indeed
walked back into my life
, well not walked, but he was here, and yes,
right on time.
So if he needed time then I would give it to him. It was the right way to do things, the healthy way. I remembered how patient he had been with me twenty years ago. The Bible said that love was patient.

He brought the hand that I had placed on his thigh up to his lips, before answering me, “I need you.”

Leaning forward I kissed him softly, lingering, tracing the shape of his wonderful mouth with the tip of my tongue.

“Are you sure?” he asked cupping my face in his hands and looking into my eyes.

“Very,” I smiled.

He kissed me again and reached for his wheelchair.

“Give me a few minutes, okay,” he said. “And meet me in the bedroom.”

…And tonight I give in to the feelings

Tonight I give in to the thrill of loving you

Tonight I give in to believing

I’d hear you say

You’d always stay…

.

TWENTY

R
eturning to the second bathroom, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I had been waiting for this moment for forever with zero hope of it, but now unbelievably it was within my grasp. I cupped my face in my own hands the way Luke had done on the sofa. No, I wasn’t dreaming. But then what if Luke couldn’t go through with it? What if he was changing his mind right at this very moment? What if…What if…What if…

Quickly using my tiny purse brush I touched up my hair. Then I made double-sure that my bladder was completely empty. It took several of those feminine wipes things that I carried in my purse, to freshen up in the more private places. Would Luke want to have oral sex with me? Maybe he’d just want to cuddle. If we did have regular intercourse I’d probably have to be on top, and what if I was too heavy? But he couldn’t feel anything below the waist, right? Which meant there couldn’t be any intercourse. But maybe. In some cases…What if…What if…

I washed my shaky hands before smoothing in a dollop of
juniper breeze
lotion. I rubbed it along my neck and ears, and part ways down my chest. The familiar fragrance was encouraging somehow. It was after all why Betty Sterling had found me in the first place and unbeknownst to her granted me this marvelous night. Because even if all we did do was cuddle it would still be wonderful. Lifting my sweater I applied a little of the lotion on my belly. It was my signature scent. It was nice to think of Luke remembering it.

I came out of the bathroom. The iPod was still playing. It was very possible that by the time
For the Love of You
played this time around Luke and I would be making love. I dropped my purse on the lovely leather couch and headed to Luke’s bedroom.

He wasn’t there yet. He must still be in the bathroom. Next to the king-size bed, on the side closest to the bathroom, a contemporary brass table lamp glowed softly. I liked the blues and browns of his bed linens. Standing there I wasn’t quite sure what to do next while I waited. Should I take off my clothes? Would that make me seem too eager? Oh God—who was I kidding? I
was
eager. Champing at the bit. So I took off my clothes, down to my panties—I had to show some restraint. Although maybe I should take them off too. They weren’t my best pair, just a notch above granny-panties, but at least they weren’t white with the occasional hole. The next time I would wear Victoria’s Secret. Something with lace. The
next time
—please God, let there be a next time.

Nearly naked, I turned back the covers on Luke’s bed, fingering the soft fabric of the sheets. Their thread-count must be at least 600, probably some kind of fine Egyptian cotton that Betty Sterling had selected personally no doubt. On the same side of the bed as the glowing lamp, there was a large rectangular pad protecting the bed. We used pads on Aunt Patty’s bed too. Aunt Patty, who would be ninety-eight on her next birthday, wasn’t totally incontinent but accidents did happen. Maybe they happened for Luke too.

Now… should I get into bed? I was chilly wearing only panties, but perhaps all the shivering was really from arousal finally set free.
Next time
I would be sure to bring a robe. For now, I timidly got into his bed and pulled the top sheet up to cover my breasts.

When Luke came out of the bathroom I was glad that I had undressed, because he was naked, except for a towel covering his lap. At first I had trouble catching my breath. As a young man, Luke’s lean but muscular frame had been billboard material, although I had rarely mentioned it to him since he wasn’t exactly modest about it, even though he had kind of taken it for granted like his being tall. Age, and adversity, had filled out his frame, but his upper body could still be the stuff of fitness ads. I smiled at him shyly as he wheeled across the room to me. Naked, all of his assets showed.

But so did his liabilities. The bottom half of his body didn’t match the top half, as if he had been reassembled with the wrong parts. His calf and thigh muscles were almost absent, making his knees and feet look disproportionately large in comparison. Arriving at his side of the bed, he immediately removed the protective pad.

“We won’t be needing this,” he said stuffing it into cabinet of the nightstand.

“It’s okay,” I replied. “If you need it, Luke.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

Before transferring onto the side of the bed, Luke removed his towel. There wasn’t an erection, and though I hadn’t really been expecting one, seeing his penis so limp after what had just happened between us, and while I myself was on fire, was a stark reminder of just how much had been lost for a teenager’s text message. Once he had transferred onto the bed, Luke waited for a moment with his back to me, until the spasms in his legs passed before lifting them up one at a time onto the bed, which gave me precious time to get over being sad about it. Luke was alive. We were here together. And I thanked God for the trend line that had somehow managed to bring us to this moment, a moment when I was about to actually have my
this
and my
that
, and maybe, just maybe even the
other
.

From the family room I could still hear the music. Luke scooted back and rested against the brown leather of the headboard. He looked down at his legs stretched out in front of him. His feet fell to either side and his toes pointed downwards almost as if they would curl under his feet. He was the most gorgeous man in the world to me. And I was a nervous twenty-two year old virgin again, starving for him but too consumed by my insecurities to move. In spite of every instinct, desire, and need to crawl into Luke’s arms, I waited on my side of the bed, anxious for the man he had always been to me, the Luke who took charge of every situation, to do that now. He was an alpha male. I couldn’t imagine him being any other way. But nothing was happening.

“Luke?” I eventually spoke his name softly, hesitantly.

Please God, don’t let him change his mind
, I prayed.

“I’m sorry, Rachel,” he said and turned to look at me directly.

Oh God, he was changing his mind. Desperate, I scooted a little closer to him and touched his arm.

“It’s still hard for me,” he continued.

In his eyes there was this bewildered kind of hurt, a look that said he realized that something terrible was true but he was unable to understand why. I had seen that look before.
I can’t be with you.

No! You cannot do this to me again
.

I wanted to cry. And I had cried, over and over, until my eyes were dry and dead. I wouldn’t take my hand off his arm. Tonight I would not retreat.

“Every time I do this,” Luke said. “See somebody seeing me for the first time, it’s like I’m reliving it. Like I’m seeing myself for the first time. You know what I mean?”

I did. Tears of empathy, love, and relief filled my eyes. I blinked them back. This was one of those
huge parts
I wanted so much to know. I must show that I could handle it. I squeezed his arm.

“I understand, Luke,” I murmured and cleared my throat. “If-if you want to go slow. That’s okay.” I smiled a little. “I mean I’ll try to. But please, Luke. I-I’ve waited so long, I can’t—”

Before I could finish my own words I was kissing his mouth again greedily, and selfishly if he really wasn’t ready. But he was kissing me back, and I began climbing up his body like some kind of untamed vine, wrapping myself around him, pressing my lips to his face, his head, his neck, his chest.

Turning on his side, Luke carried me with him, pressing me down onto the bed, returning my passion with his, covering me with sweet, sucking kisses that left me wet and hot and craving for more. Grasping me between the legs, he encountered the damp crotch of my panties and looked surprised.

“I didn’t want you to think I was too easy,” I explained sheepishly.

“Easy?” he chuckled, his eyes shining again. “You?” He pulled down my panties with one hand. “About as easy as walking on water.”

Even before I could kick free of my last appearance of dignity, Luke had used his palm to cover my vulva, keeping his fingers stretched over my pubic mound. He must feel the way my body throbbed. Gradually he slipped his fingers into my vagina, their calloused skin brushing against my clitoris in a gentle up-and-down motion.

“Oh Luke,” I cried his name as I felt myself already beginning to peak.

“No-no sweetie,” he whispered. “Nice and slow.” Withdrawing his fingers he gently began to massage my inner thighs. “You can wait just a little while longer.”

He filled my mouth with his tongue and I pressed my body up against his, feeling the coarseness of his pubic hair. If his penis could be erect he could have easily slipped it inside of me. I wanted it still. I could not not think about it.

As my breathing leveled, I reached down and pulled his right leg over mine which sort of held us together. His left leg shook against me. Our arms were around each other. Luke kissed the tip of my nose and smiled at me.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” I smiled joyously at him. “You?”

“Magnificent,” he grinned.

“You are, Luke,” I said earnestly. “You really are.”

“Not quite,” he replied. “So I think we probably need to go over the merchandise, so to speak. My list of can’ts and cans if you will.”

I must have made a face.

“You look like my mother right now,” he chuckled.

“That’s not funny, Luke. Not yet.”

“Okay,” he smiled, kissing me again deeply.

When we separated to breathe again I asked, “What do you want me to know?”

“Don’t you have questions?” he asked back.

Of course I did, but I wasn’t about to go down a list as if he were required to give me a tutorial.

“Be honest, Rachel,” he said. “Unless you’ve been with another man like me before you—”

“There’s nobody like you in the world, Luke,” I interrupted, pressing my pelvis against his, hoping he could feel it.

He smiled. Perhaps he could. He lay back on the pillow.

“This is the borderline,” he began to explain using one of my index fingers to trace a line just under his navel. “Everything above I can feel really well, extra well in some places. Below it gets a little wacky. Some places yes, others no. My right side’s a little better than the left.”

“So you’re stronger on the right side then?”

“Less paralyzed, yes.”

He moved his right leg against me. I was thrilled.

“That’s wonderful, Luke,” I exclaimed happily.

“It’s something,” he said dryly.

I was quiet but Luke seemed to read my thoughts.

“My dick can get hard, but it’s got to be manually operated.”

“But you-you can?” I asked hopefully.

“I can. Pills help, but it’s not great.” He smiled crookedly. “It’s kinda wacky like I said.”

“Can you…have-have an—?”

“An orgasm? Not the way you’re used to. But trust me, babe, you’ll make me very happy. And what really matters is that can I satisfy you.”

In those early days of my sexual debut, for me it was the missionary position or nothing. Robert’s was the first penis I had ever let go beyond my vagina. I had let him try a variety of things, even when I found them distasteful or uncomfortable. I supposed I had been trying to make it up to Robert. It had never been like that with Luke. Even doing
it
to hold onto to him, it had been equal parts about him and me. There was no doubt in my mind that Luke could satisfy me.