Vegas: Devil's Rose #9

Chapter 27: June Emerson

I don't think I've ever cried this hard in my entire life. Maybe I should clarify that I haven't cried this many happy tears, but it doesn't matter. I cannot believe that this is happening right now. I have always wanted to see Hozier live.

He's my Jesus, I swear. He and The Arctic Monkeys are my two favorite bands on this earth. I'm so fucking lucky that I'm standing here in the moment. I'm so lucky that I have someone who loves me and cares about me to the point that he's willing to spend money to take me to see my favorite musician.

I've always wondered what true love and understanding are, but I know that I have it. Bruce is singing along with me to Wasteland, Baby, holding me into his arms gently. Here we are, unashamed to be together and standing here amidst the crowd, seeing Hozier sing right in front of our fucking faces.

I'm slightly overwhelmed by the love I am receiving. Not that I think I don't deserve it because I sure as hell do. I just don't think I've had someone shower me with this much love and devotion before. Although Bruce has had other women coming in and out of his life.

Relationships that didn't work out try as they might, and feelings for other people flout in and out of his heart, he has been showing me from the beginning that he is mine. That he will always be mine, and although I didn't know it before, I couldn't be more grateful that I know it now.

I'm able to spend the rest of my life loving him and showing him the same love, attention, and care that he gives to me. Because he deserves it too. He deserves to be loved the way I am loved by him. Right now, at the moment, my love couldn't be more real. Our love couldn't.

After the concert is done, we are practically the last ones to leave the concert venue, trying to soak up every last minute we can. It's chilly as we step out into the parking lot, groups of people still swarming to their cars, singing Hozier songs loudly that were just played live by the man himself.

I talk excitedly about the concert as Bruce listens to me, adding his own excitement in between every other sentence of mine. Not knowing where we are headed, I just lean back against my seat and stare out the window to the city of Dallas.

While changes are big and can be scary even when those changes are being made with the right person, I couldn't be more excited about what my life with Bruce is going to bring. I was so worried about things besides what I wanted out of our relationship.

Now that I'm not worried about the "journey" or not being able to go for my dreams because I know I will find a way, I can focus on what is truly going to make me happy. Spending my life figuring things out with Bruce, that's what makes me happy.

Falling asleep and waking up beside him. Sharing laughs and tears and arguments and calm conversations. I think of all the fun we're going to have. Our life together is going to be so much fun. I have a good feeling about it.

We pull up in front of a hotel, a luxury one at that, and we are sent up to one of the top floors of the building. Bruce takes care of all the checking in and money and tips and room service as I flop myself down on the bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind reeling about the excitement of tonight.

"This is crazy, Bruce. This is the best thing anyone has ever done for me."

"We didn't really have any dates before falling in love, and I've always wanted to spoil you, so this seemed like a good chance."

"I love this! I want to be clear that I don't need this, I don't want you spending your money on me, but this is a great treat. I'm very grateful."

"I know, ladybug," he replies softly, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear, "but I like doing this for you."

"I would be fine with a donut and a cup of coffee."

"Good to know, old man."

"Fuck off, Bruce."

He chuckles, laying beside me, intertwining his hand with mine.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask, turning my gaze to him.

Our eyes meet, a smile gracing his face.

"Always."

"If you walked into a room with people that you've met before. Every single person. Who would you go to first?"

"You. You will be my choice every single time," he answers without hesitation.

I blush, not being able to help Bruce's words getting to me. Butterflies fill my stomach, aching desire just below them. My wide-open heart drums in my chest.

"There is no one else I would rather go to, June."

"I would go to you too."

As Bruce gathers my hair, gathers my face, gathers all of me, and claims my lips with an unexplainable force, the world goes up in flames around us. Rational thought seems to longer exist when I'm with him because he's all I want.

I don't know why I would ever doubt that, but I know I will again. But it doesn't matter as of right now. Not as his lips move against mine. I reach up and slip my arms around his shoulders for fear that I might be in a dream.

By hugging him, I'm able to steady myself, to give resistance to his pressure. The simulation against my lips and against my hair makes desire run deep in my veins. Tingles run through my body as I feel his tongue teasing the seam of my lips.

A shiver runs down my spine while I try not to give him all of me in under a minute. He pulls back abruptly, having a hard time breathing. I dip my head for a second before my chin is nudged up by his thumb.

My lips part with a sharp intake of breath. Bruce's eyes flick across my skin, studying me, memorizing my body. Wanting to know every inch of me, wanting to see every inch of me.

He saw the rise and fall of my chest, the skittish look in my eyes, flitting to his lips and then quickly away. As if under a spell, his gaze is drawn to my lips, parted and full, and the sound of my shallow breathing fills him with a fierce longing. Desire burns in his eyes.

"Never think that anyone else is above you. There is no one else," he whispers.

He bends toward me, closing his eyes to caress my mouth with his own. A weak gasp escapes me as I stiff, surprised by his lips landing so lightly against mine. The taste of my lips must have been far more than he bargained for because he draws me close with a raspy groan.

With a fierce hold, he cups the back of my neck and kisses me deeply, gently, possessive in his touch. His fingers intertwine in my hair, desperate to explore. And then all at once, beyond my own comprehension, my body melts to his with an answering groan.

The moan that erupts from Bruce's mouth makes me believe he is when my mouth rivals his with equal demand. Desire licks through me, searing my body and then my conscience.

With a heated shudder, he grips my arms and pushes me back, his breathing ragged as he holds me at bay. Bruce stares into my eyes, and his eyes are full of compassion. He makes me feel so wanted, desired, and beautiful. My fingers move down his torso, feeling his abs.

"You can't do that to me. You know how that makes me feel, ladybug."

"I know, that's why I'm torturing you."

Neither one of us speaks, soaking in the moment between the two of us, clothes still spreading our bodies. I love these quiet and intimate times. We aren't in a rush; nothing is pressuring us to continue quite yet.

Instead, we hold each other, touching one another softly. Each second is more precious than the last. And though it's cliché, I will regret letting myself not have these delicate and soft seconds.

And the things his hands can do to me. Fuck, he can do whatever he wants to me. The things he's already done so well.

"What's going on in your head?" Bruce questions.

"I'm thinking about you and what you can do to me."

Because why would I lie to him?

"Oh, yeah? All good things?"

"All good things."