Not Another Hero by Wendy Rathbone

Author:Wendy Rathbone [Rathbone, Wendy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Eye Scry
Published: 2019-09-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

We take few breaks our first night together. Only for dozing. Not for water or washing or any real sleep.

Drac moves like a dancer in bed. Everywhere at once. Making me his. Giving himself to me.

The first time I suck him into my mouth, he gushes with little warning.

“Weldon,” he whispers, making my horrible real name sound like a prayer. Then louder, “Weldon!” And I hold him through the orgasm until he stops shaking.

He’s not a virgin, but I can tell he’s not super experienced, either. To me, he’s perfect. He’s the lover of my dreams.

I don’t mind that he uses my old name. I know why. He’s connecting to me. Not to Captain Stirling Kane. Not to some character I’m playing in a script. But to me.

Occasionally throughout the night, I remind myself of my personal promise I made: Don’t let this become another John Luke.

But Drac is nothing like John Luke. I tell myself that over and over. He’s warm and gentle and attentive. He is able to take charge, but he isn’t in charge, if that makes any sense.

He might have ignored me at first, played hard to get, but he’s not cool like John Luke was, keeping everything between us tidy and in its place. He’s shy but open. Hair messy in his eyes. Sheepish smiles that pull his lower lip in between his teeth. And he asked to read one of my personal poems I have never shown a soul. John Luke would never have asked me that.

We doze and make love until morning. We don’t really sleep. But I feel like we have slept together, and slept together and the intimacy between us is something I have not felt or thought of wanting in years.

Because I was hurt by my love for John Luke, I did not allow myself to realize how deeply intimacy is missing from my life.

I’m not necessarily an idiot, but I have let myself get caught up in unreal roles over the years, and played them well without any deeper self involvement.

When ship’s morning arrives, we both declare we are starved.

Drac lets me use his sonic bath first. I dress again in my jeans, white shirt and tie.

When I come out of the bathroom, Drac is ready to go in.

“I’ll wait for you,” I say.

“No need. I’ll meet you in the galley.”

All right, I won’t push it. I nod and leave him to his privacy.

On my walk to the mess hall, I’m floating. My eyes are slightly blurred from lack of sleep, yet I’m still euphoric. But my stomach begins to flutter with nerves again. I have just had the best night of my life in… ever. Now, being apart from Drac with my mind clearing a little, I am afraid.

Afraid I won’t feel that ever again. Afraid Drac may not feel the same.

How can I be so unsure as I remember his sweet touches, his body so natural, so entwined with mine?

We did not actually fuck. Which is unheard of for a porn script.

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