Translation of Love

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Authors: Alice Montalvo-Tribue
Tags: Contemporary
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travel with me at all and the time apart put too much of a strain on the relationship. She wanted to be my first priority at a time when it was just not possible.”
    “That’s kind of sad,” I say because it is.
    “I don’t know. I think it just wasn’t meant to be. If we had been right for each other, we would have made it work.”
    “Even so, it has to be rough with your career to have a steady relationship.” I’m digging now, trying to get some insight on what it would be like to be a permanent fixture in his life. I regret the comment as soon as it leaves my mouth. I have no right to bring it up because I’m not capable of thinking of myself as a permanent anything to him.
    He looks thoughtful. He wants to say something but is afraid of how I’ll react to it. “You know I like you right? I wanna see where this can go between us and I’m okay with taking things as slow as you need them to go. But I would hate for my career to scare you off before you give me a chance. Things are a lot less hectic for me than they were a year ago, Ellie. Back then, I was on a world tour. My life was like a circus. It’s nothing like that now. I’m recording my album and that’s my primary focus. I do that mostly in the evenings and during the week which allows me a lot more free time.”
    “But won’t it go back to being a circus when you release this album? Won’t you have to go back on tour?”
    “I haven’t committed to that. I’m contractually obligated to release one more album, and that’s what I intend to do. Will I promote it? Yes. But not to the extent that I did the last one. I don’t have it in me to be on the road nonstop for two years. If I do a tour, it will be on a much smaller scale.”
    This is a lot of information to take in. I know that I shouldn’t care what his schedule will be. I’m living in the present and that’s all that I’m able to focus on. I can’t force myself to question what will be in the future. I know that in his own way, he’s telling me that he will make time for me if this thing between us goes anywhere. This knowledge shouldn’t affect me but it does and what it makes me feel is an emotion that I can’t even name. I realize that I haven’t commented on what he’s said to me, but really what is there to say?
    He tugs at a strand of my hair. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours? Did I completely scare you off?”
    “No. You haven’t scared me off,” I whisper.
    Victor tilts his head to the side, his eyes hooded, and the anticipation is excruciating. My lips tingle with need. I can feel his before they even touch mine and when they do it’s electric. Every part of me is lit up and I can feel the moisture build in my most intimate parts. I open my mouth, giving him easy access. As his tongue surges forward, he groans at the taste of me. He leans down until I’m lying on the couch with him on top of me. The feel of his weight on me is perfection. I spread my legs so that he can shift his body to rest between them. His left hand has a firm grip on my hair, while his right hand slowly trails from my shoulder down to my hip. The kiss is intense, fueled by a mutual yearning and I submit to it freely. My hands move to circle his waist. I tug his t-shirt free from his jeans, my hands graze up to his broad shoulders, roaming up and down the length of his muscular back. It’s not lost on me that he’s still holding back for my benefit. He is taking things slow because he’s figured out that I’m skittish. His hand at my hip starts to move up, grazing over my belly and slowly traveling up until he’s cupping my breast. I moan at the sensation that his touch elicits from my body. Victor’s hand goes down again, this time finding its way under my shirt. He cups my breast again, rolling my still covered nipple between his fingers, breaking my trance.
    I jerk my mouth away and push myself up. “I’m sorry, I can’t,” I say, embarrassment evident on

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