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Trying not to seem too reluctant, I stepped into his
bedroom, my eyes gazing past him to the California King bed that sat
square in the middle of the room like a sacrificial alter. I'm not
sure why it intimidated me so much. Perhaps because I knew I would be
expected to bare everything to him once upon it. Never before had a
bed looked so inviting, yet so threatening at the same time.
    Garret
cradled my face in his hands, leaning in for another kiss. His lips
were much more urgent this time, parting mine to explore. The taste
of him was intoxicating, and I found myself relaxing despite all my
fears.
    Garret's
hands fell to my hips and then slid up my waist, taking my shirt with
them, and I instantly felt the need to pull away, to hide my chubby
body. He gave me a concerned look, and I realized that my expression
must have appeared terrified. My thoughts of self-disgust were too
strong to allow him to touch me.
    “ Mia,”
he whispered softly, taking a step forward. “You look beautiful
to me. Don't be ashamed of your body.”
    “ That's
easy for you to say,” I tried to keep the venom from my tone,
my natural instinct to drive him away. “You're . . . perfect.”
    “ No,
I'm not.” Garret shook his head and then grabbed his t-shirt at
the hem, pulling it over his head. My eyes first landed on the
rippling muscles of his stomach, and I felt something down below
clench deliciously just from the sight of him. But then my eyes rose
to Garret's chest, where I saw multiple tiny white scars. There must
have been at least fifty of them. I looked at the scars curiously,
stepping forward to run my fingers across them. Some ran parallel.
Others crisscrossed. There was no mistaking the fact that they were
man-made.
    “ My
body isn't perfect either.” He put a fingertip under my chin,
drawing my gaze back up to his deep-blue eyes. Before his mouth had
even reached mine again I was lost in them, cherishing this secret he
had just shared with me. I didn't care about the scars. His body was
beautiful to me—perfect. And I understood that Garret probably
felt the same way about me.
    As
much as I wanted to not resist when he reached for my shirt again, my
nagging self-consciousness reared its ugly head, refusing to believe
what I knew to be true, that he genuinely didn't care about my
weight. I pulled away, this time ashamed.
    “ Can
we . . . turn the lights off, please?” I asked in small
child-like voice.
    “ But
I want to see you. I let you see me. It's only fair.”
    “ It's
different,” I tried to make excuses. “Just . . . let me
work my way up to it.”
    “ Alright,”
he surrendered finally, walking over to the wall to turn the lights
off.
    Garret's
room was so dark that I couldn't even see him return to me. The only
indication he was there were his hands on my hips, sliding around to
the front of my shirt to begin unbuttoning it.
    I
allowed myself to relax, getting lost in his kiss as he worked the
buttons one by own. My hands explored his chest, enjoying the broad
rippling of his body, drawing my mind from the unpleasantness that he
was about to be feeling rippling of a different kind on me.
    When
the last button was unfastened, I shrugged the shirt off onto the
floor. Garret seemed to approve. He moaned softly against my skin as
his mouth trailed feather light kisses down my cheek and onto my
shoulder. His hands reached up to cup my breasts, feeling the
fullness of them, and I was thankful that his hands were anywhere but
my stomach.
    My
breath picked up as Garret gently kneaded my breasts, and I could
feel my panties growing wet with anticipation of having him inside of
me. Feeling myself get a bit impatient, I grabbed him by the front of
his pants and pulled him forward until my thighs touched the bed.
Then I reached back and unfastened my bra, shrugging it over my
shoulder as well. My breasts fit perfectly in his hands, and the skin
on skin contact heightened my pleasure.
    I
tilted my head back to give him access