♡
Sara's POV
My eyes fluttered open at the light that was coming in through my windows, and I almost groaned in frustration.
Almost.
My breath stocked as my eyes spotted a Greek god resting beside me.
His chest was softly rising up and down. His breathing was even and low.
The sunlight didn't bother me. The noises of New York's always busy street didn't get to me. The snowstorm outside didn't make me dread the upcoming day at all.
I was warm, so, so unbelievingly warm on the inside.
I pressed my cheek more into my hands next to me, eyeing Michael as long as I had the chance to.
When had he become so handsome? Was it overnight?
His blond hair had fallen onto his forehead, giving him a messy vibe that was so unusual for his always well-kept style. It suited him. My hand twitched forward to brush his wavy strands of hair back, but I kept that desire back. I didn't want to wake him up.
Not yet.
Michael's face was so peaceful as he slept, it made me nuzzle more into his chest with a content smile.
His eyes were shut softly with no pressure at all, making the wrinkles that came with his expressions almost disappear completely. It hid his beautiful sky-blue eyes, the colour which reminded me of my summer holidays with my family to Croatia, year in and out. It had been my favourite time of the whole year. The relaxing times, the happy memories, the smell of the beach, the heat, the sound of chirping insects. He reminded me of that. Of home. Of happiness. Of anticipation.
Michael's nose gave his face still a touch of manliness even as he rested like a baby. Michael's arched lips were softly parted, and he was breathing slowly through his mouth. They weren't pressed into a thin, disapproving line. They weren't smirking. There wasn't a corner higher than the other. No, they weren't doing anything, yet they lured me in so, so much. Full. Red from our kissing, still.
My eyes travelled down to his broad throat down to his chest and over his muscles. His biceps was fully out as he was sleeping shirtless, as was his hard six pack and v-line. He was sleeping only in his underwear – I couldn't believe my eyes yesterday when he had taken off his clothes.
"Do you mind?", he asked, unbuttoning his shirt.
I froze as I threw back my blanket. "What – of course I am! Michael, I'm not ready for-"
"No, no", he lifted his hands. "I meant; do you mind if I sleep in my underwear? I usually sleep like that, would be strange if I ... you know"
My blood shot to my cheeks.
"But if you mind I won't take off my clothes. I'll survive a night not being in my underwear." He thoughtfully scanned me. "Or I can sleep on the sofa, if this is uncomfortable for you. Or I can leave if you want me to."
No. no this had taken a wrong turn.
I didn't want him to leave me – I wanted to continue cuddling with him.
I wanted to be wrapped into his arms again.
I wanted to feel safe again.
I wanted him to whisper sweet nothings into my ear, to kiss me, to hold me.
But I couldn't say it.
No matter how much I craved his touch, I couldn't say it.
He picked up his jacket. I stormed over to him over the bed, hugging his chest.
"Stay."
Michael pressed a kiss onto my hair.
"You made me the happiest man just now." He wanted to lay down with me, but I stopped him. I covered my eyes.
"You can take off your clothes. I want you to be comfortable."
"Are you sure? I don't mind-" "I'm sure", I interrupted him.
It was silent for a few seconds, then I heard the hem of his shirt as he moved to unbutton his shirt. I head his belt buckle, then moments later he pulled down his pants.
As I stole a glance at him, I saw he folded his stuff neatly and put them onto my desk's chair. My eyes travelled down on my own, and in admiration I forgot to cover my eyes again.
"Hey – no peeking", he grinned.
Nobody, and I mean nobody, could have resisted to not look at him.
By god, it was as if a Greek statue stood in front of me, alive, moving. Muscle over muscle, not too much, not too lean; in fact, not lean at all, but massive. He had a bulky chest, impressive arms, a six pack with signs of an eight pack, a v-line and long, strong legs.
"I think I'm going to faint", I fanned my face, covering the sight of his bulge with my hand. Grey underwear. Calvin Klein boxer shorts. As he raised his arm to scratch his beard, his biceps flexed.
"I'm putting my clothes back on – or I'm raising your legs."
I lifted a brow at his suggesting tone. "Let's not – who knows what else will be supplied with blood." Michael's barking laughter made my heart skip another beat. He went around the bed and stopped at my side, took my hand from my face and pressed my wrists down beside me. Strongly.
My heartbeat was the only thing I heard. His lips moved, and it took me a while to register what he had just said.
"I won't do anything you don't agree to."
A relieved breath was my answer. Then he laid down on top of me, with his full weight.
"W-What are you doing?"
"Cuddling." He wrapped his arms around me and pressed his face into my chest. He hummed and stayed there.
Stars filled my vision.
Breathe, Sara.
You two are just snuggling.
I glanced down. He seemed content resting his head on my breasts.
Noah hadn't liked them; they were too big, he had said. Michael on the other hand seemed to love them.
I wrapped my arms around him, closing my eyes to calm down.
"Your heart is beating so fast", he whispered. "Am I making you nervous?"
"No; yes, but not in a bad way", I whispered back. I supressed to mention Noah's name. "This is all new to me."
Michael lifted his head from my bust and buried his nose between my head and shoulder. "You didn't do this with him?"
"Noah wasn't the type to cuddle", I quickly told him. "Can we just not talk about him? He's enough headache as is."
And I want to be with you right now.
Michael was content with my answer and kissed the spot where the tip of his nose had been. I shivered in response. He took an appreciative breath and hummed again. "You always smell so nice."
I breathed out deeply, more relaxed now. I ran my hand through his hair. It was so soft. The smell of men's shampoo made me take a deeper breath. He didn't smell of his perfume or aftershave, just of this wild smelling shampoo. I tried to place the scent. It was fresh. My mind was too hazy to think straight.
"You smell so fresh too." "I had just showered before I came to you", he told me, then with a glint in his eyes, he kissed my shoulder. Then he kissed my skin one inch away from my shoulder, not breaking the eye contact. Then another inch down. And another. Another.
Until he had kissed all of my fingers. He moved to my other arm and did the same thing.
Kissing my shoulder, triceps, biceps, elbow, the inside of my arm, my wrist, my palm and my fingers. Slowly. Carefully. Tenderly. Not breaking eye contact. Smiling once he was done with each kiss.
He looked up with a blinding smile after he finished.
"Better?"
I couldn't describe what I was feeling, but I felt much, much better.
"Better", I opened my arms to him. He crawled above me and laid down on top of me again. I directed his head to my chest.
He closed his eyes as I scratched his beard, traced it, along with his cheek bones.
"Soft", he mumbled. I had to laugh.
Michael suddenly flipped us around.
I laid on top of him.
He put his hands onto my hips, dangerously close to my bum.
"You are so beautiful."
I buried my head in his chest. You think I would have gotten used to his constant compliments, but I hadn't. I had never been loved this much by somebody. Noah had barely kissed me, and when he kissed me, it had been court. I had always ignored it, thinking he wasn't just the type to express himself easily, and it hadn't hurt.
But now that it was Michael who was kissing me this attentively, it came to me that Noah just hadn't been trying hard enough. He hadn't been interested.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"No, why?"
"It's because you have this look in your eyes; you are thinking about him again."
"I was just noticing something."
I sat up on his lap. He gripped my hips. I bit my lips as he moved his hip softly. I felt his bulge rub my sensitive area.
"In fact, when I'm with you, I just seem to notice so much about him." I pressed his hip down so I could think straight. "For example, how much he wasn't into kissing."
"You only notice these things when you are done with that person and with somebody else", it sounded as if he spoke from experience. "I noticed that too."
Suddenly he laughed. "In fact, I had just thought how lively you are compared to Eleanor. She would just lay there and do nothing when 'we' got eager. I would do her and she would lay there, quiet and bored. You are squirming anytime I kiss you, are eager to return everything I do to you."
We looked down. I was rubbing his hard muscles up and down as his thumb made circles on my hips. "See?"
"They really did us dirty", I laughed, for the first time not having any afterthoughts of Noah. "Thank god that's over – now come down and let me feel your body against mine."
I laid down on top of him and he drew the blanket over us, kissing my hair. His hands landed on my butt and he gave it a loving squeeze. I nuzzled against his chest and looked up to him with a loving expression. He grinned.
"So", he drew out. "What black dress was Jessica talking about?" I laughed with red cheeks.
"She's crazy Michael – she forced me to buy this form fitting dress that literally hugs my hips."
He moved his legs.
"And it's so tight around my chest, it's ridiculous!"
"Length?"
"Barely going over the knees."
"Safe when you bend down?"
"Yes."
"Dammit."
I looked up to him. He licked his lips. "Put it on for me."
"But why-"
"Give me something I can touch myself to, Sara."
I felt how I got as red as a tomato.
"You touch yourself to the thought of me?"
He raised a brow. "Excuse you, but with all those tight skirts and those pants-", he spanked my butt at that. "how can I not think naughtily about you?" He got rid of the covers and flashed his muscles at me. "Take a good look yourself – it's only fair."
I ran my hand over between his stomach muscles, the line which led down to his underwear. He caught my hand. "Don't start something you don't want to end."
"You touch my breasts and butt, but I'm not allowed to touch your stomach?", I laughed.
"My excitement hardly dies down once I'm in the mood for sex, I'm giving you a fair warning."
"Then I won't put on the dress", I teased.
"You will."
"Says who?"
He pressed me down and growled against my lips: "Your boss. I need to see if it's appropriate for work, Mrs Atkins." "If not?" "Then I'm taking it off your body", he mumbled, biting my lip.
Damn; he was getting me all excited.
I had to cross my legs.
"I thought we would cuddle."
"We will – we are. Just my way."
"Which involves sex?", I laughed breathlessly.
"No, I said no sex unless you agree to it." He lifted me. "Now go and get dressed."
Once I came back in the black dress, Michael's mouth opened widely. "Damn." He ran his hands through his hair. "Wow!"
I mustered all my courage together and made a circle, so he could see me better. He whistled, a smile accompanying his look of disbelieve. His eyes were wide as he scanned me up and down.
"Baby girl – you look bomb."
"Thank you", I giggled shyly, hiding a bit behind the door frame.
"Don't do that", he got out of bed and revealed his muscular body yet again to me. As he walked, his muscles flexed in response. He drew me forward, shaking his head heavily with a very serious expression. "Never hide that body of yours – it's amazing beyond words."
I stuttered at that. Noah had called me fat and undesirable. I had undergone even more diets during our relationship. "Not too fat?", I asked cautiously.
"What? No!"
"My stretch marks wouldn't bother you?" He shook his head. "My not so tight body? The fact my body wobbles?" "I love it when my women have a jiggle to them."
With red cheeks, I looked at my feet.
Due to the stress at work I had lost weight, but my strong legs had stayed, as well as my big bust and small waist. I had been lucky that I had an hourglass shape, but I wasn't the thinnest. I had always been curvy and slightly chubby.
Michael traced my curves with a glint in his eyes. "I love this dress on you." Suddenly his expression grew dead. "But you are not wearing it to work."
How can you say that with a straight face and a boner?!?
"Why not? You like it!"
"And other guys will too", he pressed me against him. "You are mine", he snarled.
I melted in his arms.
He smirked at my reaction. "Mine – mine only", he kissed my lips. Michael lifted me and carried me to bed, but I stopped him before he laid me down.
"I won't sleep in this dress silly!", I laughed.
He grinned. "Too bad. Ok baby girl go get changed."
As I came back in my old pyjama, embarrassed of myself since it was stained and the one I had worn since I was 18, Michael rolled off the bed and went straight to the adjoined bathroom.
"Michael?" I knocked several times. "Michael?" Was I that ugly?
"Give me", he grunted. "a minute."
"Are you alright?"
"God – more than alright", he moaned. I stumbled back to bed.
Was he fapping inside of there?!
How was this getting to him? The shirt was three sizes too big and the checkered long pants made my thighs look bigger.
The flushing of the toilet sounded, and he came out the bathroom.
He took the pillow off my bed. "I think it's safer for the both of us if I sleep in the living room."
"Oh come on!", I had to laugh as he shielded his bulge with the pillow. "How can I be this ... intriguing to you?" I hid my red face.
"Excuse you? How can – you really are naïve."
Michael threw me onto the bed and rolled us over, so we laid next to each other. He wrapped his arms tightly around me. "Young lady, you are driving me wild with those innocent looks and curves. You will be the cause of my death."
I laughed in disbelieve. "So if I want you dead I just have to show up in underwear?" "Basically."
As I laughed, not believing him, his face grew more dead-pan serious with each rolling laughter of mine.
I stopped.
"You cannot be serious." "Do I have to remind you that I just almost creamed my pants?"
I pressed my face into him.
"Exactly!"
Michael suddenly stopped tracing my body up and down and leaned slightly back. "Sorry for being so overly sexual, I wanted to take this slowly with you but ... anytime I see you, I can't stop thinking about kissing you, doing you or just holding you. I know, I'm crazy."
I had those same thoughts.
Those same exact thoughts.
"I understand", I instead said and nuzzled into his chest. "Can we cuddle now?"
"Anything for you, mon amour."
I couldn't just lie still anymore.
I brushed a few strands back and his eyes fluttered open.
"Sara", his raspy morning voice sounded. I screamed on the inside. He looked at me, then smiled as he remembered where he was. "Morning baby." His voice was deeper than usual and made me cross my legs. Oh god, why can't I just be divorced already?
"Good morning", I responded, my voice a few octaves too high. I kissed his nose and he nuzzled more into bed. He fell asleep again. Astonished, I watched his chest rise and fall again.
I flipped over to my side and checked the time. 5:20. I had forty more minutes until I had to get up and get ready.
Outside it was still snowing. Michael grumbled in his sleep and opened his eyes. "Back", he commanded shortly. I snuggled into his arms eagerly. He fell right back asleep.
For some time, we stayed like that.
I listened to his even breathing, to the loud snow outside. Nothing could have sounded more beautiful at the moment.
Was I falling for him?
Michael stirred and rubbed his eyes with a deep breath and sigh. "Time?" I took my phone.
"5:30." He grumbled. "Not a morning person?", I asked with a smile. He grunted in response. It sounded so different to his grunt yesterday when he had touched himself ...
"Would you like some coffee?" I was wide awake, quite the morning person compared to him. "Food?" He mumbled something. I took his hand. "Come on, up." He didn't move. "Come on! Up! Up!", I tried in the same manner I woke my sister up. Emma was the worst to get up in the morning, but I always managed to do so.
Michael lazily got up and with a mumble, he rested his whole weight on me, his head on my shoulder. I cradled him, stroking his warm back slowly. He purred in response. "Eggs? Bread? Fruits or veggies?"
"Shh", he shushed me. Quiet then.
He was such a cuddler when he woke up. Whenever I tried to move, he grumbled in disapproval and hugged me tighter. "How do your parents wake you up?", I asked as I tried again to move to the door, but he didn't let me. Michael mumbled something and pressed his face into my chest.
I put my hands on my hips. "You are doing that purposely, mister!" I felt him smirk. "No", he mumbled, kissing my pyjama. "Yes! Now, let's go to the kitchen and get you some coffee."
He yawned loudly, angrily finishing it, then stretched until his back let out a cracking sound.
I placed his mug on the table. Black coffee with half a spoon of sugar. He silently looked at it. "Knew?"
"I made you your coffee several times, you were just too busy to notice. We have a paper hanging over the coffee machine with your preferences."
He hummed bored. "Yours?", he mumbled more interested.
"A toffee brown colour with two spoons of sugar", I told him. I kissed his hair and giggled. "You are so cute when you are tired."
I started humming and went to prepare us our breakfast. "Song." I turned around as his firm voice. "Song", he repeated tiredly but with strong eyes. "It's a lullaby. The one I sang yesterday."
"Sing. Please." "It's actually a song for children-" "Please."
Sighing, I turned around and smiled. I started humming, then sang:
"Nini, sine, spavaj sine
San te prevario
Beša ti se, beša ti se
Na moru kovala
Jedni kuju, jedni kuju
Drugi pozlaćuju
Treći nose, treći nose
Od zlata jabuku
Pati majka, pati majka
Udova ostala
Pati majka, pati majka
Udova ostala."
"Nini?", he asked. "It means-" "No, teach." I flipped the eggs. "Nini, sine, spavaj sine." He repeated it, but it sounded less firm. "San te prevario." It sounded English when he repeated it.
♡
Until we had the song through I had placed the table and he had fully woken up.
"The O is not pronounced 'ou'." We were finishing our eggs and Michael reached for the strawberry jam to eat his fourth slice of bread. For a man his size, he could eat like a bear I already noticed.
"I can't say it like you do, you pronounce it exactly how it's written." "Welcome to my language", I nudged him. "You could teach me French." "It would be no challenge for you, your English is flawless." That reminded me – "As is yours, but you speak French too." "Well, I grew up in two countries."
I nudged closer. Michael gifted me a splendid smile and pushed away his plate.
"I was born in America, Connecticut." "Connecticut? Really? I thought you are from New York." He did sound like any other New York business person. "I moved to New York because the company is here; well, my parents had built it here. I lived in Connecticut until I was 13, then I moved to France."
"Why's that?" "Because", he looked down at his coffee. He took a deep breath. "I'm about to ruin this moment if I tell you."
I laid my hand on his.
"Tell me", I said as softly as I could. "I'll listen."
♡
Michael's POV
It was so reassuring to hear that out of her mouth. I smiled at her, led her hand to my lips and kissed her knuckles.
"First of all, I speak 'clean' French and Provençal. I was raised to speak English and French perfectly for my future business. Now, I was born in New Haven, Connecticut in 1988. Three years after me, 1991, my brother Léon Clement was born. In 1997, my youngest brother followed."
Sara placed her hand on mine again. I smiled weakly at her. "Sébastien Adrien. Léon named his son after him: Adrien." "You have a nephew!", she smiled sweetly. "And a niece. Estelle. Both are energetic kids", I laughed.
"We can stop here if you want", Sara suddenly said. "No, I want to tell you. So you know why my mother is the way she is." I leaned back.
"I was 13 when my parents had divorced. It was only a question of time until they would have driven each other crazy. Mother is a stern, uptight and planning every detail kind of person. Father is spontaneous, never serious and adventurous. Their little nit-picking and characteristics made them banter often, until they turned into serious arguments. They would argue day in and out, until they finally filed for divorce. My father had long stopped loving my mother and had another woman by the side who had just waited for him to leave her."
Sara's eyes grew wide.
"Long story short: my mother won the case and got full custody over the three of us. But my parents had changed because of the divorce. My father only cared for his new wife and soon their two sons. He stopped persuing his carrier entirely and lived from the money he had earned. Now he's in pension. Mother on the other hand got obsessed with work and wouldn't leave it. She sent us off to France to live with her relatives, but we weren't allowed to live together. She believed we were difficult children."
I lifted my fingers, counting along.
"I was 13 and got sent to her aunt Marthe in Gorde, in the Provence. Léon was 10 and sent to Avignon to her sister Genevieve. Sébastien ... was only 4. He stayed in Paris. I had two servants who I grew up with, who became my real parents to me. Gerard and Marie. I mentioned them before."
She nodded, remembering them.
"It was such a ruckus. I kept in close contact with my brothers, we wrote letters to each other. Sébastien at first only sent drawings since he hadn't learned how to write, but over time he practiced through writing us." It hurt to even think about this.
"It wasn't easy for us. I had shielded my brothers quite a bit and never let them hear any of their fights. I went out with them, looked after them, cooked for them, cleaned with them, did homework with them. Léon understood after a while and cried so much, even more when we got separated. Sébastien was too small to understand why our parents were arguing. He didn't understand anything at all."
My hand hurt.
When had I clenched my hand into a fist?
I loosened my grip and Sara shook her finger softly, placing it back onto my palm.
"I ... stayed in France until I was 18. My mother told me of the company they had left me back. It was full of dept and I had to make a decision. Either live poor in France and pay their debts or pick up the company and turn everything around. I decided to study business in America. So I moved back, chose Harvard and they accepted me. I studied, finished university with flying colours and took over the company – to prove them a point: we weren't useless."
Sara laid her hand on my arm. "I think you are the total opposite: you are the most amazing person I have ever met! You manage everything so easily! Attending several meetings, going on business trips, leading the company, you always knows what's going on with everybody, you help everybody and you are everywhere! You are also smart and analytical."
I had to look down. "I'm in awe how you are never unsure, scared and full of confidence."
"I have to be because of what has happened in my childhood." "And you managed it flawlessly", Sara got up and I got up too. She kissed me. "Don't blame yourself for your brother's death. Whatever it was, it isn't your fault."
Sara's words almost made me believe it.
She smiled at me and I managed to smile back at her.
I checked the time. "Go and get ready for work." "I will", she tip toed and kissed my beard. I hummed.
"Michael?" "Yes?" "Thanks for telling me", she smiled with glistening eyes. "I can't wait to see you at work again."
I felt a shy smile spread on my lips.
As I got home, it was all worth it.
Marie's endless chiding was all worth it.