Anything She Wants

by Samantha Lucas

  “Baby, what are you talking about?”

  As much as he hated to do it he pulled her off him and set her away so he could look into her eyes. She was beaming and as beautiful as he’d ever seen her in a light yellow sweater and a very short, loose fitting white skirt which showed off long tanned legs. How very much he’d missed her. He pulled her back into a desperate hug.

  “I missed you so much.”

  At first her body resisted him, then she melted against him. A contented sigh released, “Mmmm me too.” She hugged him back fiercely for a few more minutes until Nick was once again regretting their no kissing agreement.

  He kissed the top of her head, her temple, rested his cheek against her hair. None of it was enough.

  After seeing Sasha and Matthew this weekend exchanging vows, and Frannie and West and all his brothers and even his mom and dad. Not to mention his sister, grandparents, aunts, uncles, Matthew’s parents. Hell, everybody seemed paired up and happy. It was a veritable Noah’s ark! Everyone had someone.

  Everyone but me.

  “Come here.” He took her by the hand and pulled her to the sofa, then sat on the edge beside her. “Okay, I have something important I want to talk with you about, but you go first. What did you mean by three weeks?”

  She was slightly out of breath and still beaming from ear to ear.

  “He’s gone. Russia, then Bali, then France before he sends for me. He said at least three weeks.” She stood up and spun around, her arms stretched out. “I’m free! I’m free! I’m free!” She spun herself back onto the sofa beside him and grasped his hands. “For three whole weeks, and I want to spend every second with you.”

  For the first time since entering his apartment she looked around. “Nice place. Cozy.” She grabbed his hands again and smiled at him. “Are you happy, Nick? Even a little?”

  He took one of his hands and ran it over the top of his head.

  “Maybe it’s the jet lag, but sweetheart, you haven’t made an ounce of sense since you blew in here.”

  His eyes implored her for something he could understand. She took a deep breath.

  “Sorry. I was just so excited. I’ve been by here three times already, since I didn’t know exactly when you’d be coming back.” She stood up and paced to the high bar separating kitchen from living room. She leaned over it, sticking her nose into the kitchen and raising her skirt about three very indecent inches.

  “You got anything to cook?”

  He shook his head and came to stand beside her. “Sweetheart, if you’re hungry, let me take you out, but first can we please come to some sort of understanding? At least for me, since you very clearly seem to understand what’s going on already.”

  She pressed her palm to his cheek and he felt peace, home. He put his hand on top of hers. “Thank you.”

  She gave him one of her quiet smiles. “You’re welcome.” And a quick kiss on the nose before returning to the sofa.

  Since he hadn’t expected company, it was times like this he was glad he listened to his mother and kept things clean. He sat on the coffee table in front of her, bracing his forearms on his thighs and looked at her expectantly until she began.

  “I have three weeks of absolute freedom. No more three o’clock in the courtyard. I can see you at four or five or two in the morning if I want to.” She gave a quick smile and cocked her head to one side. “Well, if you want to.”

  He stood up and went to the kitchen. He took down take out menus from the cupboard above the fridge. Maybe it was a blood sugar thing, but one of them wasn’t making any sense.

  “You want pizza, Thai, sandwiches?” He held up the menus. “What?”

  “I don't care, anything you want.”

  He ordered for them, pizza and lasagna from a little family Italian place he’d become fond of, then checked the fridge for beverages. His head ducked inside the cooler, he hollered back. “You want a beer? Soda?”

  “Got anything diet?”

  Quiet reigned for another moment. “I got grapefruit juice and bottled water.”

  Her soft laughter trickled into the kitchen and he wondered how he ever could have thought of this place as home without that sound in it.

  “Soda, I guess.”

  First putting his beer on the table, then handing her the can and a glass, he reached for the stereo and flipped on a little light opera. He shrugged and smiled.

  “Sorry, no nature sounds in this.”

  He calmly came back, scooped her into his arms, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and smiled at her.

  “Don't you think it’s time you level with me here, Keely? You’ve never told me why you can’t see me other times, though I’m not dumb, but I’d like specifics before I agree to this three weeks thing.”

  Her face fell.

  “I thought you’d be happy. That you’d want to spend the time together.”

  “Sweetheart, I do. More than anything on this earth, I want to be with you. But you’ve got to be honest with me. Before I take another step in any direction with you, you need to tell me what’s going on.”

  She pulled out of his arms. Her glass went down on the table with extreme lightness. She paced the length of his apartment three times, all the while rubbing a knot of tension from her forehead. Only the doorbell offered her a reprieve.

  While Nick took in the food and paid, she found some place mats and silverware in the kitchen and set the table. He decided candles would be nice and pulled some from the drawer before getting them seconds on the drinks. Standing back, it was a very romantic setting considering it was take-out, all that was missing was a woman who was speaking to him, which he wasn’t sure Keely was anymore.

  She stood beside him, staring at her plate as he scooped out a helping of lasagna.

  “Maybe I should leave. I didn’t think this through. I was just so happy...”

  She turned to go, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back against his chest surrendering to the soft lilac scent of her.

  “I don't want you to leave. I just want to know the truth.”

  She turned to face him, her eyes deep with something he couldn’t read.

  “Can I make you a deal?”

  “What kind.”

  “Spend three weeks with me, doing everything, nothing, anything. Just be with me. And when it’s over I’ll tell you everything. Can you trust me that long?”

  The problem was he found it very easy to trust her, and would probably cover for her if she committed murder which was not a very Chilton thing to do, but that was exactly what worried him. He’d come to California to find himself, not to be turned into another doormat.

  “Three weeks?” His voice was thick with skepticism but he wasn’t sure there was anything he could do about that.

  “Yes.”

  He pulled her close, resting his forehead on hers. He wanted to say no. He knew he should say no, but what he actually said was “What about the kissing?” feeling like a total guy for maybe the first time in his life, he decided to go with it. “The touching? Being together?”

  “You mean sex?”

  He brushed her cheek lightly with his thumb. “Well, that too, but swear to God, Keely, just some heavy kissing would be wonderful.”

  The silence boomed and filled the room while he waited for her answer. She pulled back only slightly, licking her lips. She moved slightly towards the table, opened the pizza box popping first one then a second mushroom into her mouth. “I don't know. I want you to kiss me, but I don’t—”

  He held out her chair for her and motioned with his head towards it. “Sit. We can eat first.”

  She looked up at him suspiciously, even he felt weird about his obvious back peddling, but he wasn’t sure the can of worms he’d just opened was such a good idea. They ate in relative silence. Whenever he looked up, she looked away. Something had to be done about the awkward vibe floating between them, but he couldn’t imagine what he was about to say was it.

  “I can promise it won’t go
too far.”

  She put down her silverware and brushed her lips with a napkin.

  “Sex?”

  He nodded.

  “How can you promise that?”

  He took a deep breath and pushed aside his plate. His palms were sweating and he’d most assuredly lost his appetite. “Because of a promise I’ve already made to somebody else. I won’t have sex with you, not now, or at any time over the three weeks. Not unless you marry me first.”

  She sat perfectly still, blinking rapidly. “What are you saying?”

  He reached across the table, she placed her hand in it. “I won’t have sex with you. I made a commitment to…well, to myself for one thing.” He drew a breath, feeling completely foolish in the moment. “I’m celibate, Keely. I have been for three years and I don’t intend to have sex again until I’m married.”

  He licked his lips, scared to death she’d laugh at him. Her mouth dropped open, then it closed. Then opened again. She looked a little like a fish on dry land and if the topic weren’t so serious to him, he would have thought it funny.

  “But you’re not a virgin?”

  “Good God, no!”

  This scene playing out would have been funny if it wasn’t his life, his heart that was the subject.

  She pushed away from the table, the red linen napkin falling to the floor. She walked to the kitchen, keeping her back towards him. He quickly closed the distance and turned her to face him, placing his hands at her neck he tilted her head until she looked him in the eye.

  “Sex is something sacred to me, Keely. I can’t help that I believe that. To be honest, I regret the times I’ve had sex without love and commitment in the mix. Hell I even regret the times that was there.”

  He rubbed his neck, it was getting very hot in that room. He squirmed but refused to brush this under the rug.

  “Keely, I believe sex is the most intimate bond two people can share, I’m never again going to just give myself to anyone. It’ll be the woman I love and preferably after we are married.

  “So I can take the three weeks, Keely, but I guess the question is, do you still want me?”

  Chapter Five

  “Celibate?”

  Keely pulled away from him, her head reeling and moved to the sofa. Her eyes met his momentarily. “So then, your wife? She’d have to be celibate too or...a, I mean you’d want her to be a virgin, pure?”

  Nick moved beside her, taking one of her hands in his.

  “Keely, I don’t care if you’ve had sex before, or how much. This was a commitment I made because it felt right for me. I’m not in the habit of forcing my convictions on other people. Now, where I would like it if my wife viewed sex the way I did…—” He smiled softly and she felt herself getting pulled into it. “That she thought it was more than bodies and orgasms, I’m not going to fault her if she didn’t’ wait for me. God, Keely, I’m thirty-six, I’m not sure there are any thirty-six year old virgins left on the planet.”

  She was only twenty six, but she hadn’t been a virgin in so long, she couldn’t even remember what she’d thought or felt before the night Derik took her virginity. In this moment in time however, she wished everything was different. She wished she could experience sex for the first time with Nick, because with him, she almost believed it would be special.

  She sat staring at the floor, dazed. She’d seen it in his eyes how important this was to him.

  “When did you decide this? Why?”

  He leaned against the sofa back, bringing his one foot up to rest on the coffee table, the theme from La Bohème playing softly in the distance. He still held one of her hands as if he feared her running away as soon as he dropped it.

  “I’ve already told you why, Keely, but the decision was something that came about over time. Keely, I was a virgin until I was your age.”

  She made a sound that sounded a lot like a gurgle and tried to muffle it. She didn’t hear him right, that was the only explanation. No man kept his virginity through high school, and if for some crazy reason he did, well then college certainly would have taken care of it.

  “In high school, I came close a couple of times…”

  His voice drew her gaze back to his face. He was playing with her fingers and he looked so calm, so sure of himself.

  “…but it always felt, I don’t know, wrong somehow. Then in college, women were practically giving it away but no one wanted a serious commitment. They had careers and lives they were preparing for and heaven forbid a man should want to tie them down.” He looked at her very seriously for a moment, she practically held her breath wondering what on earth he was going to say next. “For the record, I’m not interested in tying anyone up, down or indifferent.” He winked. “Leastwise not without consent.”

  She couldn’t help the silly giggle that bubbled up as his eyebrows dances suggestively over his incredibly blue eyes.

  “Then I was engaged, and so it seemed only natural then. At first it was nice, but…” he rubbed at his brow, obviously uncomfortable. “By the time it ended, we hadn’t been having sex regularly for over a year.”

  He looked up from her fingers he was holding, until she could see his eyes.

  “It wasn’t long after we broke up that I decided celibacy was a good choice for me.” He looked back down at her fingers, then sheepishly at her out of the side of his eye, giving her a small smile. “Don’t get me wrong here, Keely.” He turned to face her, beginning to kiss each finger separately. “A lack of experience does not mean a lack of knowledge.”

  His tongue pressed into the center of her palm making her squirm and messing with her ability to breathe. His gaze connected with hers.

  “I thought the least I could do since I wouldn’t be bringing much experience to my marriage bed, would be to become extremely knowledgeable about the kinds of pleasures a man can bring a woman.”

  His fingers slowly ran the inside length of her bare arm, from wrist to elbow. She quivered. His mouth came down on the curve of her neck, sucking, licking, biting and Keely had no doubt the man knew what he was doing. Her body moved unconsciously in a provocative fashion, rising up to meet his. It shocked her.

  She pushed off the sofa and traversed to the kitchen, hiding in a way, on the other side of the tall counter separating the two rooms.

  “I believe you. But unlike you, I have experience—lots of experience—so I can tell you without doubt...” she stumbled over her thoughts, took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and, “I would not please you in bed.”

  He didn’t say a word for a long while and to his credit he hadn’t laughed at her either. She stood behind the counter, refusing to cower, to feel uncomfortable. She’d told him the truth, she wouldn’t regret it. When he moved, it was like a great jungle cat stalking its prey, her. That was when she wanted to pull back, run away, anything. Instead she rubbed her one foot against the opposite ankle nervously and waited, for whatever he would say, or do.

  He came around the counter, his thumb brushed her cheek, her jaw line, her bottom lip. He stared deeply into her eyes as if trying to read something in them, but she didn’t look away, she let him see the truth. She would not be a satisfying bed partner to a man like him. For him it would mean so much more than the physical act that she’d been forced to perfect. She wouldn’t be able to fool him with fake sighs and tender caresses, he’d want to posses everything she was. He’d want to become one with her, and she’d never be able to complete him.

  His eyes still studied her, his thumb now stroked along her neck and over her collar bone. Had he moved his head closer? She could feel his breath on her cheek, the warmth from his body was beginning to overheat her. She wanted to pull back, move away, back to safety, but his gaze wouldn’t allow it. His body wouldn’t release her from the hold he was somehow projecting on her without even touching her with more than his thumb.

  His cheek brushed against hers as he moved to whisper in her ear. “I think you’d be damn satisfying, Keely. I think together, we’
d make fireworks.”

  His hand glided along her neck, pulling her body flat against his, his mouth went to her neck and she wished they’d never agreed to no kissing on the mouth. She wanted to taste him. She wanted his tongue to invade her mouth and take it his prisoner, just the way his body was doing somehow to her soul.

  She could feel ever hard angle of him pressed up against her, and he was most definitely aroused. She lost her breath at the strength she felt in him. Braced against the laminate counter top, her fingers gouging into the hard surface, without thought she moved her hands to feel the muscles in his back and forearms. She heard a sigh and knew it was her own. Her body relaxed, giving him better access to her neck. He pulled down the sleeve of her light sweater, bared her shoulder, and softly bit her.

  His one hand made circles on the back of her neck while the other one came around her waist pulling her even harder against him. Never, had she felt the things he was making her feel. Not once in ten years had she ever yearned for someone’s touch. And his touch was amazing, filled with tenderness, respect and outrageously brazen desire that she couldn’t ignore if she tried. How on earth could they be together like this for three weeks and not have sex?

  She moved her hands to his shoulders and steadily pushed him away. She swallowed hard, regained her breathing—if not her emotional footing—and moved back to the living room. Her fingers brushing against lips that felt sorely deserted, ignored, deprived.

  Nick said nothing, did nothing. Even though she had her back to him, she knew he hadn’t moved. How was it possible to feel so much? She turned to face him, knowing she had to tell him the truth. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes not being able to bear seeing his expression when she told him.

  “I can’t...” she growled under her breath, this was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, and she was not at all looking forward to seeing him look at her differently once she’d told him.