by MV Ellis
“Well, consider yourself told. Not that you need to hear it from me, obviously, but there it is. You’re so hot I can’t even deal.”
“Well, you can tell me any time. And it goes without saying that you’re a goddess. Also, you’re overdressed. Can I help you…?” I bobbed my head toward her dress.
She looked down at it as though she’d never seen it before. It was a simple black dress with buttons from top to bottom. When she’d arrived at the meeting point, I’d taken one look at her in it and been harder than ever.
She nodded in response. “Yeah, okay.”
Without missing a beat, I reached down and started undoing the buttons from the bottom up. I felt like a kid at Christmas, unwrapping the “big” present—the one my parents made me leave until last, as it was the thing I wanted most. The thing that would make that Christmas more memorable than any other. Only she was better than a bike, or race track, or game console. She was a gift I’d never tire of.
Revealing her black lace panties as I continued to undo the buttons around her stomach, I sucked in a breath. I couldn’t even explain how perfect she was for me. She just was. I’d never figured myself for an impatient guy, but the urge to just rip those buttons apart was so strong my fingers tingled.
On the one hand, I loved the anticipation and buildup, knowing that what was to follow was more than worth the wait. On the other, waiting was something that had lost its sparkle now that she was in my life. If there was one thing I’d taken away from losing my dad the way we had, it was that waiting was way overrated.
Still, I forced myself to open each button with care instead of behaving like the savage I felt like. When I finally got to the top, I made my brain override the image of the dreaded tattoo forced on her by her ex, now that I could see it clearly in the bright light of her living room—it was the one piece of work I’d ever done that I deeply regretted—not wanting thoughts of that animal to blemish our experience more than they already had. Fuck him all the way to Rikers and back.
Emi’s tits were glorious, just like the rest of her. I reached out, taking one in each hand and squeezing each nipple. When she rolled her hips, arching her back and spreading her legs a little wider, I knew I’d hit the spot. I squeezed again, a little harder that time, my grin widening as her body bucked.
I bent forward over the table, bringing my mouth to one of her nipples and gently drawing it into my mouth. I held it there for a few moments, not moving, noting that Emi was holding her breath as she waited for my next move. Just like I’d had to wait while undoing all those stupid buttons, I purposely made her wait just a beat too long. When she squirmed in anticipation, I gave her what she wanted, sucking hard on that nipple while squeezing the other.
“Shit.” It was more like a prayer than a curse, and I took it as a sign to carry on. I alternated between nipples, sucking and squeezing. Her breathing became more labored until she gently pushed me away, forcing me to meet her laser-focused gaze.
“I want you.”
Three little words that were music to my ears.
I stood up again, looking down at Emi before pulling her panties down and off her body. I hesitated one more moment. I liked to look at her, especially like this—skin flushed with excitement, eyelids at half-mast as she watched me watching her. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.
Emi rolled her hips, breaking my trance and reminding me that as great as watching her was, being inside her was even better. I pulled her body to meet mine at the edge of the table, slipping into her in one movement, then taking some time to calm my farm before pulling back and pushing into her again. I could barely deal with how good it felt, but I worked hard not to go wild. I didn’t want to hurt or spook her,
She spoke as though reading my mind. “Don’t hold back. I won’t break.”
Still, I hesitated again.
“Chris….”
The sound of my name on her lips kicked me into action. I pulled back farther and slammed forward harder.
Holy motherfucking shit.
She really was made for me.
We continued at that pace, her ankles locked behind my butt, until it was too much for both of us. We came epically, and loudly, not caring who could hear.
My orgasm was more intense than I could ever remember, and I fell forward onto Emi, covering her small body with my large one. It was a while before I’d recovered my breath—or senses—enough to speak.
“I don’t want to break your table. Should we chill somewhere more comfortable, maybe?”
“Mmm. We can go to my room.” She looked nervous. I could understand why. We’d come so far that night, but maybe for her, the bedroom was the final frontier.
Without thinking, I scooped her up, and started heading for the hall.
“Hey! I can walk, you know.”
“I know. But I can also carry you. And I want to. And I already am. So….”
“Okay, it’s to the right, then second door on the left.”
When we got to her bedroom and I pushed open the door, pausing at the threshold while she reached around me to switch on the light, I could totally see why she’d been hesitant. I looked around the room and immediately felt like I knew her so much better just by being there. More than that, I felt like I was looking behind the curtain to the real Emi. Everything about the space just seemed so… her.
It was feminine, and beautiful, and thoughtfully put together. It was also almost obsessively neat, which didn’t surprise me, but it was a striking feature of the room. There wasn’t so much as a hairpin out of place anywhere. The other thing that struck me was the smell, the light and floral fragrance that I’d come to associate with her, mingled with her own personal essence.
I had a strong urge to open drawers and closets to see what more I could find out about her. I wanted to know everything. Instead, I strode purposefully across to the expertly made bed and lowered her onto it, looking down at her as I did.
“You look like a cat with his mouse. I feel like I should be afraid.” The smile spreading across her face suggested she was anything but.
“Nah, not at all. I’m more like the Cheshire cat. Or the cat that got the cream, the cheese, and the whole herd of dairy cows. I’m just kind of trying to work out what I should eat or drink first.”
“Come down here and I’ll help you figure it out.”
“That’s the best offer I’ve had since you told me not to hold back.”
I bent my knees, lowering myself onto the bed next to her. She shifted a little to give me more space, then rolled on her side to face me. I lay on my side also. I reached out to sweep a thick lock of her jet-black hair from her forehead and was ready to be dismayed when she flinched. However, instead of recoiling, she turned toward my hand, pressing it to her cheek with her own and kissing my palm gently.
She closed her eyes, then spoke in a voice so quiet I could barely hear.
“Stay?”
“Here? Tonight?” I wanted to be sure I wasn’t misunderstanding.
“Yeah. It’s rare for Noah to be away, and I like having you here, so….”
I felt like the mayor had given me the keys to the city. Dumb, but it was what it was.
“You had me at ‘stay.’” Truth was, she had me way before that, but I engaged my filter in time to keep that thought where it belonged—deep in my mind.
She rolled onto her other side, and I followed suit. As we curled up together, spooning and interlocking our limbs, I was struck again by how right it felt—me with my arms around her, her with her butt pressed into me. I sniffed her hair again, positive I could do that for years and never tire of the combined smell of shampoo, perfume, and her.
36
Emi
I woke up early and with a start, panicked at the heavy weight pinning me to the bed. It took a few moments for realization to dawn on me. The first clue was the color of the walls. With Tommy behind bars, I’d gone to town erasing every trace of him from my bedroom. His clothes, shoes, and any
other personal items had gone to Goodwill. I’d painted the walls, changed the curtains, and gotten rid of all the bedding we’d used. I even went so far as buying a new bed. The one we’d shared held too much bad feng shui, or juju, or something. The room was now more feminine, more “me” than it’d been when I’d shared it with Tommy.
Once my brain registered the new silvery-gray color of the walls, I chanced a look at what was weighing me down. Much to my relief, it was a large muscular thigh covered in scratchy blond hair.
Chris.
He lay facing me, snoring lightly, a faint smile on his lips. Who the hell smiled in their sleep? This guy, of course. This giant of a man, who even though he was built like a skyscraper was laid-back, kind, gentle, and happy. He was the opposite of Tommy in just about every single way, not the least of which being that, even while he slept, Tommy was a ball of negative energy. He scowled, or frowned, or worse—often lashing out angrily at the demons that haunted his unconscious mind.
I lay there for a long time just watching Chris sleep, marveling at how beautiful he was and stroking the shaved hair of his undercut. I loved looking at the complex web of tattoos across his chest, walking my hand from his head down his thick, strong neck to trace around the intricate detail. I had no idea what any of it meant, but I was sure that in contrast with my sole tattoo, his had cool backstories with positive associations. Mine burned a hole in my chest like a gaping bullet wound every day.
A heavy sleeper, unlike both Noah and me, Chris didn’t stir at all. I was guessing he’d never had to worry about the things that went bump in the night like we had. A lifetime of that shit and our bodies were conditioned to never fully let go, even in sleep.
I thought about how far I’d come in the past year. How amazing it was that I was lying in my bedroom, in my apartment, in the arms—or under the leg—of a gorgeous, funny, good man who liked me and whom I liked back. A man I trusted, because he’d earned that trust. A man with whom I’d already shared several monumental firsts and looked forward to sharing more.
A man I could love.
Just thinking about the future with anything other than dread was miraculous. A year ago, looking forward with excitement and eager anticipation would have been unthinkable, but now that was exactly what was happening. I wasn’t living my best life just yet, but I was well on my way.
When the restlessness of lying in bed awake got too much for me, I slid out from under Chris’s log of a leg—not difficult given that he appeared to sleep like a log—and headed down the hall to take a shower. When I was done, I donned my robe and headed into the living area, switching on the coffee machine. It was my general rule that life began after coffee.
While I waited for the Keurig to do its thing, I started straightening the room a little, heading over to the table to clear the mess we’d made the night before. There had been a pile of unopened mail on the table, some of which had been scattered when we’d gotten it on. I collected our discarded clothing, folding it and placing it on the corner of the table before picking up the mail from the floor.
I made my coffee, then returned to the table to drink it while I leafed through the letters. Most of it was junk, but I still felt compelled to go through it piece by piece rather than sweeping it all into the recycling without a glance like some people did.
An envelope caught my eye among the take-out menus and poorly worded ads for dog-walking services and electricians. I opened it absent-mindedly, knowing it couldn’t be anything of much importance. I paid all my bills, including my mortgage, online.
“Emi? Emi? Emi?”
I could hear the words, but I wasn’t processing them. They meant nothing to me. It was only when I felt a hand on my shoulder shaking me gently that I came back to Earth.
“Hmmm?”
“Sweets, how long have you been sitting there like that?”
I had no idea, although a quick glance into my cup told me it had been a while. My black coffee had the weird slick of oil on the surface that formed when it cooled down.
“I called you when I woke up, but when you didn’t answer, I figured you’d ducked to the store or something, so I jumped in the shower. I was just coming out here to grab my clothes.” It was only then that I noticed he was naked except for a towel tied around his waist. “I’m guessing because you’re still wearing your robe, you haven’t been out?”
I shook my head.
I must have been staring at the towel for an extended period. “Uh, I hope you don’t mind, but I grabbed a towel from the bathroom closet. And I may have used your shampoo.”
When I didn’t respond, he crouched down to my level, lifting my chin so he could see my face. Even crouching he was tall.
“Hey, you okay? I mean, I know you’re not. I’m just trying to work out what’s going on. Is it something I did, or didn’t do… what?”
I closed my eyes. The last thing I wanted or could handle at that point was the pained look of concern in his big sympathetic gray eyes. It made me feel… pathetic. I was tired of being a loser at life in his eyes. I wanted to be normal. For us to be equals, not for him to be the Norse god who’d had women making eyes at him at his father’s funeral versus the sad sack with a closet full of skeletons who’d never been on a date.
“Hey, don’t shut me out. Whatever it is, you can tell me, and we can work it out together.”
I didn’t want to have shit for him to help me work out. I wanted to just be a girl who brought as much normality to the table as he did. Not a charity case. Not the host of a giant pity party.
“Emi, look at me, please.” I didn’t want to. “Please.”
I met his eyes, and it was all there, just as I’d predicted. Concern. Care. Pity. I tried every mind trick in the book to stop the tears, but nothing worked. They flowed in a hot and heavy tide down my face, and there was not a damned thing I could do about it.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m here either way. Unless you don’t want me to be.”
That was the thing, I didn’t even know what I wanted. I mean, I knew, but I didn’t know. Or I didn’t know if it was possible. I suspected it wasn’t.
I just wanted to be normal.
“And by here, I mean sitting on a chair, because my crappy knees are about to give out on me crouching this way.” He stood up, grimacing as his ridiculously long legs unfolded to their full length. He was like a giraffe, except not like one at all. Despite his height, there was nothing the least bit awkward about him. In fact, the way he moved, so smooth and sleek, he was more like a big cat than anything. A tall, blond, sexy jaguar or panther.
He pulled a dining chair away from the table and faced it toward me before plopping himself into it.
He surprised me by taking my hand in his, squeezing tight before lifting it to his lips and kissing the back oh-so-gently. Then he lowered our hands and covered mine with his other one, sandwiching it between the two. We sat like that for I don’t know how long before I got it together enough to speak. And then I didn’t actually speak, just handed Chris the letter I was still grasping in the hand he wasn’t holding.
“I’m sorry for being a weirdo.”
He skimmed it and let out a breath. “You need to stop apologizing for being human. There’s nothing weird about you. You know that, right? You’re one of the least weird people I’ve ever met.”
I was beginning to think he was some kind of alien or robot. How could he be so nice and understanding all the goddamn time? Apart from that one time at his father’s funeral, which needed no other explanation, he was damn near fucking perfect.
“Don’t you think receiving this would spook most people? You went through a lot with that guy, not just on the day we met but for years before that. This kind of thing is considered major trauma. Nobody expects people to just pick themselves up and carry on as though nothing happened after something like that.” He raked his fingers down his jaw the way I loved, their tips meeting at his chin.
“Same goes
for what happened to you growing up. Jesus, the shit you’ve suffered would’ve broken most people, yet here you are, not only surviving but keeping your shit together epically. Never underestimate how much of an achievement that is.”
I heard the words, and I understood them. I just didn’t believe them. I loved that he saw me through such rose-tinted glasses, but I feared he would work out sooner rather than later that I wasn’t the woman he’d made me out to be.
I was neurotic, and distrustful, and secretive, and weird. But above all of that, I was scared. Scared for my future, and for Noah. Scared that one day the emotional Band-Aids and bungee cords that were holding me together would snap and everything would come tumbling out of me like Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz. I was fucking terrified that any moment now, he’d realize I was a basket case and run for the hills like any sane person would.
“I can’t do this.”
“You can. You’re strong as fuck, and this will be hard, but think of the shit you’ve been through and survived. Your ex-boyfriend tried to kill you, for fuck’s sake. And what did you do? You MacGyvered yourself out of there, because you’re not about to sit and let anything or anyone keep you down.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Who in your position has ever wanted to go to court and face the person who hurt them the way he hurt you? But you know, when you do this, I’ll be there every step of the way to support you. You need to keep your eyes on the prize and remember that it will be more than worth it. With all the charges he’s facing, he’ll probably never see the light of day again.” I shook my head, and finally his brain caught up with his mouth.
“Wait. If that’s not it, what did you mean?”
“I’m tired, Chris. I feel like I’ve lived three lives already, and I’m not even thirty. I haven’t got enough fuel in the tank for me and Noah, let alone another person. I have nothing to offer. I’m so—I mean, it’s a shame I didn’t see it earlier so I could’ve stopped this before it got so far. Before we got too… whatever we are. I led you on in so many ways, and I’ll regret that forever. You deserved better than that, especially with everything you’ve been through lately.”
