Make a Move

by Meika Usher

  Forcing my brain to move on, I stood and crossed the room to study the cluster of frames that hung on the wall. A couple family pictures, a shot of him and Sunny at their first Big Deal Con, and an oddly familiar drawing.

  Leaning closer, I squinted. Encased in a simple black frame was a signature Sunny Oliver sketch. In it, Nate was a decrepit, lurching zombie, his disheveled hair and black-framed glasses giving him away. Though why a zombie would need glasses was beyond me.

  Really, though, what caught my attention was not the unnecessary glasses. It was the grotesque, exposed ribcage over an oversized heart. Band-aids and stitches covered the heart’s surface, and Zombie Nate’s hands clutched helplessly at his chest, fighting to keep the heart safe.

  Reaching up, I pulled the frame from the wall and turned it over, knowing what I would find.

  One of these days, the note read in Sunny’s slanty, sharp writing, you’re gonna find someone with a heart just as big.

  “And they’re gonna crack open that chest cavity and get all up in there,” I finished by memory, flipping the frame back over to trace a finger over Nate’s jagged chest.

  She’d given me the same drawing last year, only it was me, stumbling through the streets with a barely contained, busted-up heart.

  I heard Nate’s bare feet against the hardwood as he headed to the bedroom. Hastily, I hung the drawing back up. Probably, it didn’t mean anything. Probably, she was just lazy when Christmas came around. Probably, everyone in her life got the same drawing, with that exact note taped to the back.

  But as Nate reentered the room, a glass of water in each hand and a grin on his face, I knew that wasn’t it. Sunny didn’t do shit by accident.

  “Oh, that,” Nate said as he reached me and saw what I’d been looking at. “Your sister’s got such a funny way of showing affection.”

  I took the glass he offered and drank him in with my eyes. God, but he was beautiful. “Uh huh,” I murmured and lifted the glass to my lips.

  As I sipped, I pondered telling him that the same gift hung in my own bedroom. I thought about asking him what he thought that meant. Did it mean anything? But when I finished drinking, Nate took the glass from my hand and sat it on the dresser next to his. Then, he wrapped his arms around me, his warm, naked skin against mine. And all thoughts of drawings and sisters were gone.

  “Hey,” I whispered, turning into his embrace.

  “Hey,” he whispered back, his fingertips trailing over my bare back, leaving a cascade of shivers in their wake. “You’re naked.”

  “So are you,” I replied, reaching down to cup his ass with both hands. “I like it.”

  He laughed and took a step forward, so that his chest barely brushed my still-sensitive nipples. Leaning down, he dragged his lips across my jawline, toward my mouth. I turned to meet his kiss, closing the already-miniscule distance between us. His fingertips pressed into my hips as he pulled me closer still, deepening the kiss. In a matter of seconds, we were stumbling back toward the bed, a tangle of limbs.

  “I don’t care if it’s half a pump,” I gasped against his shoulder as his hand slid down my belly. “I need to feel you inside me.”

  Nate laughed against my neck, fingers pausing in their journey south. “You say that now.”

  “I’d say it after,” I replied, reaching down to guide his hand to its destination. He took the hint, stroking my slick heat slowly, teasingly. I gasped and arched into his touch. “I can’t,” I panted, fingernails digging into his back, “believe you didn’t grab the condoms.”

  “My sincerest apologies,” he murmured as his fingers slid lower. “How can I make it up to you?” And then he slipped one finger inside, slow and deep.

  I clung tighter to him, knees falling wide. “That...that’s a good start.”

  “Good,” he said back, his mouth hot against my collarbone. “How about this?” And then he eased a second finger inside, the palm of his hand grazing my clit.

  I threw my head back and groaned. “I sup-suppose that’ll do.”

  Nate didn’t reply. No, he put his mouth to much better use, pulling an aching nipple into his mouth as he pressed his fingers deeper into me.

  “Nate, Jesus,” I gasped as shards of light flashed against my closed eyelids. And then I had no more words, because whatever the hell he was doing with his fingers stole every one of them from my mind. All I could do was hold tight to him as he delved deeper, stroked faster. I shoved my fingers into his hair as his teeth grazed my nipple, sharp sparks of pleasure racing through my bones. Oxygen ceased to find its way into my lungs. My hips raised from the bed to meet each thrust of his fingers, each graze of my clit, each touch that brought me closer to the edge. If he stopped...oh, if he stopped, I’d have to kill him.

  But he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop as he dragged his mouth to mine, kissing me hard, passionately. He didn’t stop as he shoved me right over the edge.

  “Fuck,” I groaned against his lips, my thighs closing tight around his hand as I came in a rush of sweet, sharp spasms. Nate held me tighter as my body throbbed, as I went lax beneath him, dropping soft kisses against my cheeks and forehead and chin. I sank deep into the bed, no muscle mass left in my limbs.

  “You broke me,” I whispered as Nate settled in beside me, stroking my sensitive skin with soft fingertips.

  He chuckled and nestled his face into my shoulder and I sighed, resting my head against his, my eyes drifting closed. This right here? Nate snuggled against me, his breathing slowing, his arm thrown over my middle? This was better than the dirty bits.

  That was the last thought I had as I felt the soft arms of sleep pulling me in.

  Sometime later, a harsh, tinny jangling sound pulled me from a deep, perfect sleep, persistent and loud and...annoying.

  “What is that?” I growled, leaning up on an elbow to glare around the room.

  Nate lifted his head from my chest to listen better, eyes sleep-glazed, hair askew. “I...I think it’s your phone?”

  “My phone? Who—” I sat up abruptly, forcing Nate to move away from me. “Shit. What time is it?”

  He stretched across his bed, fumbling for the alarm clock on the nightstand. “Six,” he replied, showing me the glowing numbers.

  “PM?” I flopped backward on the bed. “Ugh. I gotta go. I gotta go, and I don’t want to.”

  “So don’t,” Nate responded, his arm wrapping around my waist. “Where you gotta be that’s better than here?”

  “Nowhere that’s better.” I turned toward him and pushed my fingers through his hair. “But I do have to work.” The obnoxious sound still emanating from my phone was a reminder for my shift at Heathcliff’s tonight. And, oh, was I regretting picking up the shift last minute.

  Without looking at Nate—because I knew I’d stay put if I did—I forced myself from the bed and headed for the door. “You mind if I use your shower?”

  “Only if I can join you,” he answered, and I turned to find him stretched across the bed, naked and hard and tempting as fuck.

  “You do that, I won’t make it to work on time.” I let my eyes drag over him, lingering on certain parts of his anatomy longer than others. “Or at all.”

  33: Nate

  “So, I’m thinking,” Aidan said the next day. “If we head over right after close, we could meet Brenda to take a look.” He straightened a stack of comics and added, “There’s an open house tomorrow, so we could get in before everyone else, you know?”

  I twirled a pen between my fingers and glanced up. “Uh huh.”

  Aidan’s lips twisted. “You even listening to me?”

  “Yeah, sure.” I leaned back in my chair, tapping the pen against the counter. I’d spent the last hour or so staring at the stack of invoices in front of me, with sporadic bursts of productivity. And I definitely only half heard whatever Aidan had just said. “Something about an open house?” I frowned. “You and Davis house hunting?”

  “My god, man.” Aidan crossed the store to plant his elb
ows on the counter. “What’s the deal?”

  “Nothing.” I dropped the pen onto the papers and shoved my glasses up. “I’m just...really into these invoices.”

  “Uh huh.” He eyed the stack in front of me. The stack that hadn’t gotten any smaller since this morning. “Looks like you’re making all kinds of progress.”

  “I am,” I said, ignoring the skepticism on Aidan’s face. All day, my brain drifted away from its work to focus on the hot brunette with a wicked glint in her eyes and the sweetest smile I’d ever seen. Birdie hadn’t left my thoughts since she walked out the door last night. It was almost like she never left at all. Except that my body still ached from the things we didn’t get to do. Despite the fact that I had joined her in the shower last night. And, as the hot water flowed around us, Birdie had wrapped her hand around me and—

  Clearing my throat, I shifted in my seat, my body reacting to the memory. “I’m just being...really thorough,” I said, narrowing my eyes on the paperwork. I really did have a lot to do.

  “Well, once you’re done getting nothing done,” Aidan replied as he returned to his boxes of comic books, “let me know. I’ve gotta let the real estate agent know if we’re coming by tonight.”

  “Coming where?” I shoved my glasses up and looked his way. “What did I miss?”

  Aidan’s annoyance was palpable as he rolled his eyes in a very little brother-like gesture. “The realtor for the Floppies 2 property,” he said slowly. “She agreed to meet us tonight so we could get a look at the place before the open house tomorrow.”

  My stomach knotted. “Oh.”

  “It’s just a walk-through,” Aidan said quickly as he caught sight of my face. “Nothing’s set in stone. It can’t hurt to look, right?”

  I swallowed tightly. He was right. It couldn’t hurt to look. It wasn’t like agreeing to see the place was the same as agreeing to open the second store. So, what was up with the rocks in my gut?

  I nodded, because Aidan was clearly waiting for a response, and ignored the dread settling over me. A dread I couldn’t quite articulate. Picking up my abandoned pen, I tapped it against the paperwork. “Right.”

  Silence fell over us then, and I was glad for it. I had no idea what to say. Aidan seemed so excited about this second store. I knew it was a good idea. But, for whatever reason, I couldn’t channel the same excitement. And it was frustrating as fuck.

  The bells above the door jangled, and a sigh of relief rushed from my lungs. Sweet distraction. “Hey,” I said, dropping my pen to the counter. “Welcome to Flopp—”

  I stopped abruptly as I made eye contact with the very source of my all-day distraction, as if I’d manifested her with my thoughts.

  Birdie sailed into the store, all long hair and tight jeans and that trademark troublemaking glint in her eye. “Hey there,” she said as she reached the counter, bringing her chocolate chip cookie scent closer.

  My body heated in response. “Hey,” I replied, my eyes raking greedily over her face as if I hadn’t just seen her a matter of hours ago, lingering a few seconds too long on her bright pink lips. “What’re you doing here?”

  She held my gaze for a long, hot second before casting a glance Aidan’s way. “Co-MOH business.”

  Aidan snorted as he glanced up from the box he’d been unpacking and smirked. “It will never not amuse me that you’re Sunny’s maid of honor.”

  “Co-maid of honor,” Birdie corrected, leaning her back against the counter as she faced him. “Get it right, man.”

  “My bad.” Aidan put his hands up in surrender before crossing the store. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Aidan.”

  “Birdie,” she replied, taking his outstretched hand. “You’re the brother?”

  His brows drew together. “One of them, yes.”

  “Ahh.” She looked him over, then glanced back to me. “He’s the cute one.”

  “Who are you again?” Aidan asked, looking my way.

  I hid the smirk of amusement. Aidan’s face was awash in what the fuck-ness. Birdie had that effect on people. She’d had that effect on me when I first met her. To be fair, though, she had just climbed out of a dumpster.

  “Sunny’s sister,” I said, answering Aidan’s question. The name alone wouldn’t ring a bell. He’d never had reason or opportunity to meet any of Sunny’s family. “Hence the co-MOH thing.”

  “Hence,” Birdie repeated, glancing my way. “Nerd.” There was a spark in her eye that said I like it, and I felt the heat crawl up my neck in response.

  “Anyway.” I cleared my throat as I broke eye contact. “What did you need?”

  “That is a long, long list,” she replied, eyebrows tilting upward. “And I’d rather not bore poor Aidan with the details. Can we have a moment alone?”

  I straightened away from the counter and went for an all-business tone. “Sure. Office is in the back.” Then, avoiding Aidan’s blatantly curious stare, I rounded the counter and led the way.

  The moment the office door closed behind us, Birdie had her arms looped over my shoulders, body pressed against mine. “I don’t have much time before work,” she whispered. “But I wanted to see you.”

  “Even if I am a nerd?” I replied, my arms closing around her waist.

  “Especially because of that.” She wriggled closer, eyes meeting mine. “You’re kinda my favorite nerd these days.”

  “It’s the Buffy, isn’t it?”

  “Well, yeah.” Her fingers were warm on the back of my neck. “That and the A-plus kisses.” As she finished, she tilted her face upward. “Speaking of...” And then she closed the distance between us, her lips on mine.

  I kissed her back hungrily, delving my tongue between her soft lips. Her fingers tightened in my hair as she arched into me. I let my hands drag over her back to cup her ass. Backing her toward the desk, I lifted her up and sat her on its cluttered surface.

  Immediately, she wound her legs around my waist and I reached between us to loosen the buttons of her coat, groaning when my fingers encountered another set of buttons beneath the coat. “Buttons are evil,” I murmured as I worked on them.

  She laughed huskily and guided my hand to the bottom of her sweater. “Fuck the buttons,” she whispered. “This is faster.” And then my fingertips found the smooth skin of her belly.

  Instantly, my cock hardened. I slid a hand upward, palming her breast. She sighed into my mouth and arched her back. I could feel her nipple tighten underneath the bra and I roved over it with my thumbs, earning a whimper in response.

  “You’re so fucking sexy,” I whispered, dragging my mouth away from hers to kiss my way down her neck.

  Her legs tightened around my waist, pressing her heat against my aching cock. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

  At her words, I braced myself for the ice-cold panic. I expected my body to seize up, anticipated the awkward, bumbling retreat. But that didn’t happen. Instead, I pulled her closer, pressed myself harder against her, and kissed her deeper. Instead, every cell in my body screamed in agreement. And I didn’t question any of it. I didn’t let myself question it. Because I couldn’t wait, either. I couldn’t wait to bury myself deep inside Birdie, to feel her hot and wet around me. I couldn’t wait to look her in the eye and feel her tighten around my cock as she came.

  I didn’t tell her that, though. Because if I spoke now, the wrong words would come out. And those words could wait. Dammit, they could wait.

  “Hey, Nate?”

  We froze at the sound of Aidan’s voice on the other side of the door. Dragging my lips from Birdie’s, I managed to find my voice. “Yeah?”

  “Rick is here about the Indie Author Night. I figured that’s something you’d wanna handle.”

  I cleared my throat and rested my forehead against Birdie’s. “Be right there,” I called back.

  Once his footsteps faded, Birdie tossed her head back, laughing. “That dude’s got terrible timing.”

  “Or perfect timing,” I counte
red, reluctantly extricating myself from her. “I was seconds away from tearing your clothes off and—”

  “Fucking me right on this here desk?” she filled in, bracing her hands on either side of her body. She grinned, and the pink flush of her skin, the tousled hair, the reckless gleam in her eye, had me cursing Rick and his damned event. Because, yeah. That desk needed to be broken in.

  “You’re not making it easy to walk away,” I replied, scrubbing a hand over my face.

  Her gaze roved over me, lingering on my lower half. “I’m pretty sure you were gonna have a...hard time walking away, anyway,” she said with a smirk.

  I didn’t have to glance down to know she was right. If I walked out of the office right now, everyone would know what we’d been up to. “You’re not funny,” I grumbled, leaning a shoulder against the wall.

  “I don’t know.” She hopped down from the desk and buttoned her coat. “I thought it was pretty funny.”

  I glared, but didn’t say anything else.

  “Think of something gross,” she said cheerily. “Like old man balls or something.”

  “What is your fascination with balls?” I asked, refusing to be charmed by the grin on her face. “You talk about balls a lot.”

  She laughed as she backed toward the door. “I really did have co-MOH business to discuss,” she said instead of answering my question. “Cat has decided we must host an engagement party. A surprise one, apparently.”

  I frowned. “But Sunny hates surprises.”

  “I tried telling Cat that.” Birdie pushed her hair away from her face and sighed. “But she insists. So, I figure we can do it next weekend. You know, instead of game night?”

  Images of Sunny’s face as she walked into a room full of unexpected people flashed through my mind. I winced. People were not Sunny’s favorite. Especially surprise people. “Sunny’s gonna kill us. You know that, right?”

  “Yep.” Buttoning her coat, Birdie twisted her lips. “But death by Sunny is likely to be less painful than death by Cat. Sunny’d at least make it quick.”

  I tilted my head, thoughtful. “You may have a point.”