Chapter 50 Chapter Fifty - Gabriella
I smile into the mirror, tenderly touching the hickeys that line my neck. I remember when I was a teenager, getting a hickey felt like an exciting milestone, and I feel that same excitement again, only times that by a thousand. It’s more exciting because it came from Jartre – my soulmate. An all-powerful God who has become this ubiquitous force in my life yet worships the very air I breathe. No one has ever made me feel this way. Never made me feel such excitement, such desire, and such pleasure. I keep expecting to wake up and find it was all a dream, but so far the dream continues.
Speaking of dreams, we barely slept. I’m noticing we don’t do much sleeping when we get together, yet I never feel tired. I mean, sure, there are times when the man’s ability to give me multiple orgasms renders me unconscious, but there’s this constant need for him that keeps me going most of the time. Standing here my knees still feel like jelly and every muscle aches in ways they’ve never ached before. Hell, I’m aching in places I didn’t even know you could ache! Every step I take reminds me of everything Jartre and I did last night and it’s enough to leave me with a permanent blush on my cheeks. The man knows how to pluck my strings like a sensual harp, and I can’t get enough.
Aside from walking around radiating afterglow, I’m so excited for our getaway! I have no idea where he wants to take me, but I couldn’t be happier. Jartre left a little while ago saying he needed to get things ready, which is fine because it gave me a chance to shower and pack a bag. I feel like clothing might not come into use much, but better safe than sorry.
I walk into my room, grab my suitcase from under the bed and plop it on the mattress. I open it and begin rummaging through my clothing rack, tossing stuff in as I go. I’m not sure what the setting will be or the weather, so I’m grabbing a bit of variety and doubling up on underwear. Perks of dating a God? If I don’t have the right clothes I need, he can just conjure them for me. How perfect is that?
As I’m packing and putting together all my toiletries, I pick up my phone and call Derrick. It takes repeated rings but eventually, he picks up.
“Hello?” he answers in a groggy voice.
“Hello, you handsome devil,” I say brightly.
“Ugh, can you keep your sex life to yourself?” he says grumpily.
I look at my phone in confusion and then place it back to my ear, “Um, I didn’t mention my sex life.”
“I can hear it in your voice. It’s all high and airy like you’re on cloud nine after a night of Vitamin D,” he says indignantly.
I snort with laughter, “Someone’s a grumpy diva this morning.”
“Some of us are nursing hangovers, so this better be life or death,” he snaps.
“I told you not to do those jello shots,” I admonish him playfully.
“Bite me.”
I chuckle, “Okay, okay. I won’t keep you, I’ll let you get some rest. I just wanted to call and let you know that Jartre is surprising me with a little getaway. I’m not sure where we’re going or for how long, so I’m not sure about the reception condition. I just didn’t want you to worry.”
“Dances like a pro and does impromptu getaways. The man really is the full package. Well, I hope you have fun, and you don’t get sold into human trafficking. I expect all the gossip when you return.”
“Fuck, you’re morbid,” I chuckle, “I’m fairly certain no trafficking will be involved.”
“Better fucking not. Hey, are you going to be back in time for your performance next week? I have you on the roster for a performance on Friday night next week.”
“I should definitely be back by then, but I’ll let Jartre know either way. I’ll try and work on it a little while I’m gone. Anyway, if anything comes up or you need me for anything, call, or text no matter what. I’ll make sure I get it,” I urge him.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he mutters.
I roll my eyes. “I love you, sweetie.”
“Love you too, have a fantabulous time! Ugh, I shouldn’t have done that. I’m never drinking again,” he groans as he hangs up.
I chuckle, shaking my head and send off a quick text to Wyatt encouraging him to call or text if anything happens, or if Derrick lands in hospital again. Derrick is the kind of idiot who would choose not to tell me just so he doesn’t spoil my fun, but I know Wyatt will always keep me updated, so sometimes I have to bypass Derrick and just coordinate with Wyatt. It’s less stress that way.
I finish packing and carry my suitcase downstairs. I grab my charger and my wallet and look around to make sure everything is in tip-top shape. It suddenly occurs to me that my new neighbours might come by for help and won’t find me, so I grab a pad of paper, write a quick note regarding my absence, and include my number to contact me should they need to. I dash out of my apartment and slide it under their door.
As I walk back to my loft I feel the air become thick and electrified. A bright smile spreads across my face as I race through the door to find Jartre standing in the middle of my loft. I slowly close the door behind me, eyes frozen wide in shock as I take in his new appearance. He looks like a completely different person. He’s wearing a sky-blue button-down t-shirt, loose-fitted khaki cargo pants and matching sandals, but that’s not the biggest difference about him.
“You shaved your beard?” I ask in astonishment.
“Well, I wouldn’t use the word shaved, but yes. What do you think?” he asks, rubbing his chin with a tentative smile.
I walk over to him, reach my hand up and stroke my fingers lightly against his cheek, my fingertips burning in that way that has become comforting to me. Jartre holds my hand to his cheek, causing the burning to intensify as he smiles down at me.
“Beard or no beard, you’re still the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” I say reverently, my heart thumping as I take in his new – but still gorgeous – face.
“Thank you.” His thumb caresses the back of my hand as he slowly lowers it from his face but continues to hold it.
“Is this an illusion?” I ask, causing Jartre to look down at me in confusion. “You said you can’t change anything about your hair or eyes, but you can create illusions. Is this just a really convincing illusion?”
He smiles, taking my hand and kissing the back of it, “You really do pay attention to everything I say, don’t you? No, this is not an illusion. As you so accurately recalled, I can’t change the colour of my hair or the colour of my eyes, but I can change things like my body, my beard–”
“Your dick,” I interject.
He laughs, “That too. Point is my beard I can definitely change. I just never have before.”
“So, why change it now?”
“Because I feel like I’m ready for change. I feel like I get a fresh start with you in my life, and I want to do things differently, so I thought why not try a different look? Does that make sense?”
I smile nodding, “Perfect sense. When I would go through a rough patch, I would treat myself to a salon appointment and get my hair done. Being able to change my hair would make me leave feeling like I’d reinvented myself. Like, whatever I had gone through had happened to the person I was before I left the salon, and I’m a new person no longer touched by those problems. So, what you’re saying makes all the sense in the world to me.”
“That’s exactly how I feel,” he says with a wide smile, holding my hands between his, “I feel like a whole new person with you, or maybe the person I was always meant to be. Either way, I want to embrace it. I don’t want to live in the past anymore, I want to step into my future with you.”
“Then let’s step into it together,” I say, excitement unfurling in my belly. I kiss his hands and only now notice a piece of fabric Jartre appears to be holding in his right hand. “What’s that?” I ask, tugging on the fabric.
Jartre holds up a long piece of white, satin fabric, that looks suspiciously like a blindfold. “This is for you.”
I raise a questioning eyebrow, “You know I’m pretty sure I’m still swollen from last night’s escapades.”
He chuckles, “This isn’t sex-related. I just want where we’re going to be a surprise. May I?” he asks, taking the blindfold in both hands.
I smile and turn around, feeling more excited by the second. I actually love surprises, and I have a feeling Gods give the best surprises of all.
Jartre carefully ties the blindfold around my eyes, secures it in place then plants a kiss on top of my head. “Are you ready?”
“Don’t forget my suitcase,” I say, gesturing around to wherever it is.
I hear Jartre grab my suitcase and then wrap his arm around me. “Time for your surprise.”