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Mango A Romantic Fiction Novel Provided by PneumaSender FREE to Read Online
Chapter 8 Making love to Dory was not as Hawthorne had expected. He had been imagining more fire, but since her diagnosis, all he had wanted was to protect her and handle her gently. Instead of the mad, passionate love he had expected, their union was powerful in an understated way. However, he was more than satisfied by the way it had turned out. Their relationship, so antagonistic at the beginning, had mellowed. As he later said, “Just knowing she thought of me as a positive made me a lot more willing to let her have her way.” On the other hand, Dory had been weakened emotionally by the revelation of how short her life was to be, and since Hawthorne had been so strong for her, she found herself grateful and often brought to tears by the depth of her emotions. “I was never a weepy person,” she told him once. “I like this side of you,” he responded. “It’s pretty.” She laughed. “Yes, you must find mucous and tears very attractive!” He smiled. “And don’t mention spunk. You still have plenty of that!” The evening of the surprise out on the balcony, he gave her a box. Inside was a tiny bikini and a diamond necklace. He had already bought her all new clothes in local shops that day so that she could be ready for their next trip which would take them someplace tropical, and there had been plenty of jewelry for her, too. Still, the necklace was lovely and she thanked him heartily. Then, she held up the swimsuit. The bikini he bought for her made them both blush, but he smiled as he said, “It’ll only be for me…there will be a hot tub in our room. I’ll make sure of that.” The gifts and his joke made her cry – which was to be expected. However, she surprised him by grabbing him around the neck and kissing him more forcefully than she had ever done. Backing away gently, he said, “Take it easy, Honey. We don’t want to hurt you…” She laughed. “So that’s why you’ve been so gentle? I’ve got cancer – not a broken bone! I’d really like to have some adventures before I die, and one of them would be to cut you loose so that you can show me some of that passion you’re holding back.” Hawthorne was floored. “You mean, you want me to – I don’t know. What do you want?” She kissed him enthusiastically and said, “Let’s follow this road where it leads, and I’ll tell you if it gets too bumpy, okay?” He nodded. “Okay.”
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