“Fuck,” I gush. She feels beyond amazing. Nia purrs a moan as I move inside her and unhurriedly pull back. I hold still for a beat and thrust forcefully. Her lips part and she arches her back.
“Uh.” Another moan leaves her mouth. My blood burns inside my veins to the exquisite sound. The noises she makes, the way she feels, soft, warm, and tight—I’m completely lost in her. She feels fucking incredible. I slow down, holding still deep inside of her. I do not move. I don't want this moment to end.
When Nia’s fingers move to pinch her nipples, my dick grows harder. I let out a groan as her narrowed eyes lock with mine. Moving my hands to cradle her ass, I jerk her closer to me and start pounding, rocking wildly on my knees. Her moans escalate and she starts chanting my name again, I can’t believe anything can ever feel this amazing. I squeeze her ass with both hands, sinking deeper inside of her. She clenches tighter around me, eagerly sucking me in. Fuck, I’m not going to last much longer. If I had to choose a way to die, this is how I’d want to draw my final breath, inside of her.
As her panting hastens and becomes erratic, my thrusts mimic the rhythm, turning forceful, faster. The room fills with the sounds of our rapid breaths, pants, curses, the sound of flesh against flesh, our names on each other’s lips. At her final cry, I watch her falling apart in bliss in my hands, her eyes closed, her hair clinging in thin clusters to her sweaty face. She is spent, sedated, and breathtakingly gorgeous. I wet my lips, focusing my eyes on her, pounding harder. As I sink deeper she opens her eyes to mine, her gaze at me doesn’t waver though her entire body jerks with each of my slams into her. She contracts tighter around me with my next thump, and I cum so hard the world spins around me. I empty myself inside her while she watches me heatedly. My sight hazes into blessed darkness as I tip my head back, letting ecstasy wash through every part of me. The high is so hard, it’s almost euphoric.
Nia is curled on the sofa, hugging her bent legs, snuggled in my deserted shirt. She is watching me as I make my way back from the bathroom. I pass by the fridge and fetch two water bottles before joining her in the living room. I hand her a bottle and almost empty mine in one long swig. She watches me, a small smile playing on her lips behind her bottle. I mirror her and our smiles grow in unison.
“To doing your neighbors!” she clinks her bottle to mine with a wicked grin, encouraging a chuckle to roll from my mouth. She snickers lightly and takes a sip of her own bottle. She’s just the coolest chick.
We fall into easy conversation, slouched side by side. I watch her attentively next as she tells me about how beautiful Brazil is. And all I can do is focus on every delicate curve of her face: her big eyes, her pointy nose, her naturally swollen lips. The way her hair falls in heavy masses over her shoulders. My thoughts wander to how peaceful she makes me feel. Her company is so easy, I don’t have to fight anything away while with her. Everything that’s ill doesn’t even attempt to appear.
“Have you ever been to Brazil?”
Her question pulls me back. I nod.
“Yeah, but I didn’t have much time to enjoy it. It was a business trip, so it was basically work all the time.” She pulls the sleeves of my shirt to her elbows.
“You should definitely visit again,” she says returning to hug her bent legs.
“How about you, are you planning to visit home anytime soon?” As soon as the question leaves my mouth, I regret asking it. Smiling Nia disappears behind sad eyes. I say the first thing that jumps to my mind with a need to get her back from whatever made her look this way.
“Where did you learn to dance that way?”
“My mom says I’ve always danced.” Her smile returns as she continues, “She says I was dancing before I could even walk. I get lost in it, it’s the best legal high.” Nia elaborates and tells me how she joined any possible dance course before the age of fourteen. Gazing at her, actually interested in what she has to say, a sudden realization lands in my mind: we just had sex and I don’t have the urge to have her close the door behind her and leave. I actually want her to stay. I actually want to hear more about her. And mostly, I want to have that little pull on her lips stay for as long as I can make it.
More than an hour of talking passes while we exchange equally insignificant and intriguing information about ourselves, preferences, our jobs, the small part I can actually share, down to favorite movies and music. Each time we learn of the many similarities we share, we trade soft smiles. It’s when Nia asks me about my family that a small debate starts in my head. I contemplate if I want to tell her more about myself, or as each time this topic has been raised with everybody else before, take a step back and end the conversation. End whatever is starting between us.
“No, I don’t have any siblings. The closest thing to a family I got is Katie and her parents.” Nia’s eyes grow as she takes in my answer. Her demeanour alters, guarded. “Katie is like a sister to me.” I feel like I need to clear up the Katie situation, especially after sleeping together.
“She is my best friend’s little sister. My best friend Ben who passed away a few years ago.” Nia’s expression turns into a blend of empathy and contemplation.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” she says quietly.
I acknowledge her with a gentle blink. “Ben’s family took me as their own the first time Ben brought me home, about fifteen years ago.” In a way, for them, I sort of stepped into Ben’s big shoes. Shoes I could never really fill. Shoes I don’t deserve to be filling.
“Where are your parents?” Nia asks next.
“My mother died while giving birth to me, and my father is traveling around the world still trying to figure out how to continue living without her,” I say flatly. It never stops to amaze me just how easy these words come out of my mouth. Quite early, I came to terms with not having a mother, well, when you’re born into such reality and there’s nothing else to compare to, it’s just what it is. I bring my eyes back to her and can’t help just how much I’m liking her reaction. She doesn’t have that look of pity in her eyes, the one I get each time I tell someone new about my past.
It’s as though she accepts it and instead of giving me a sorry look or some lame response, she just says, “Yeah, life can really suck.”
“True,” I say, trying not to think about tomorrow, not now, but it still surfaces.
“Hey, where did you go?” Nia’s voice penetrates my reverie of Ben’s name as it is engraved on a headstone. The next words that come out of my mouth leave me both surprised and muddled. I'm not sure what astounds me more, the fact of actually talking to anyone beside Jake or the Evans about tomorrow, or the ease I feel telling it to her.
“I was thinking about tomorrow, we are planning to visit Ben, his family and me.”
“How… How long has it been since he…?”
“Three years, tomorrow.” My answer is curt. Her face stones over and her surprised eyes dart to mine for a brief moment of silence. It seems like the next breath is a difficult one for her to take. Her stare is empty, sad, and distant. When she comes back to me, she seems distracted.
“Um… Um…” She starts, and frowns at her futile attempt to articulate.
I just look at her and wait, she seems to be having an inner battle. All too familiar with the feeling of failing to share, or communicate at times, I just squeeze her hand. Nia couldn’t look more thankful to the sound of my phone ringing next. I give her a short glance before starting toward the kitchen. I wasn’t planning on answering, but do so for her sake, to break the tensed moment we just had. Let her out of the emotional loop she too evidently was pulled into.
“Jake,” I answer the call.
“Are you coming over?”
“No. Not tonight.”
“Where are you?”
“At home, Nia’s here.”
“Lucky son of a bitch.” Amusement lines his words.
“I’ll drop by tomorrow.”
~~~
I play with a lock of Nia’s hair between my fingers, r
elishing the feel of it on my skin. I lower my head just enough to inhale it. It smells of honey, pure. I run my eyes over her calm face, watching her sleep. Again, she’d fallen asleep on my shoulder. Not long after we ordered in Italian and had it with a couple of wine glasses, she fell asleep. This time I’ve carried her to my bed and tucked her in. I lie on my side, my head leaning on my propped elbow, watching her. She seems so peaceful, and delicate. But I know better, I’ve seen glimpses of it many times in the short while we’ve known each other, she holds something painful deep inside of her. Her sad eyes, the many times she disappears inside her head. It’s too familiar, I can’t seem to overlook it, even if I tried. I softly run my thumb over her velvety cheek and bend to leave a soft kiss on it. I breathe her in one more time and turn to grab a book before heading to the balcony to read, letting her sleep.
Chapter 18
Nia
In utter leisure, I flicker my eyes open to Reeves’ dim bedroom. He must have carried me to his bed last night. Once again, I am surprised to find out I have fallen asleep next to him, and even more staggered at just how easy my sleep was. It’s so calm and deep that I’m tempted to ask him to sleep by his side every night.
I pivot my head to rest my cheek on the pillow and watch him for a peaceful while. He is prone on his stomach, his toned arms hugging the pillow his face is planted on. His long lashes caress his fair skin. The sheet barely covering the hem of his boxer-briefs.
I send my hand to touch his warm skin, walking my fingers lightly on his wide back and sigh with mixed emotions. I’m not sure how to deal with… him. I thought that after we had sex, this attraction would ease down. But it’s not, definitely not, and I know so as I’m holding myself back from waking him up and begging for more.
Silently, I make my way out of the bed and close the door behind me. I rapidly shrug my clothes on, take the key to the apartment, and lockup before heading to get breakfast.
Reeves is still sleeping as I take out a plate and set the six doughnuts I bought on it. I wasn’t sure which kind he’d prefer so I just got everything I like. I place the tall cup of coffee I got him next to the plate, turning it so the note I’ve written on its side will face Reeves when he sees the little feast I left him. Inspired by what he has laid in store for today, I wrote:
Hang in there. I’m just a staircase away if you need me…
~~~
“Girls, please continue practicing the moves, I’m going to get something from the office, okay? Who wants to take my place?”
“Me, Miss Nia, me!” Almost all hands rise in unison. My eager little dancers send ten pairs of puppy eyes at me. I choose the ones lacking glee.
“Lily.” I smile at her and she shyly smiles back. I gesture for her to stand in my spot and face her friends.
At the office, I get the permission slips from Mrs. Perry. She calmly observes me, asks how I’m doing. We exchange a few words about the girls and the upcoming show we are working on before I return to my lesson.
“Yes, yes. And he is sooooo nice.” I come back to an attentive group of girls, listening to a gushing, elated Lily.
“Who is soooo Nice?” I smile at them, imitating Lily’s chirping tone as I take back my place. I mouth thank you to Lily, and take off from where I left with a one, two step dance.
“Your boyfriend.” A chorus of sweet voices replies. Oh God. I friendly frown at Lily and shake my head, facing the girls.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I say.
After a few minutes of honing their movements as they dance, I gesture for them to sit in a semi-circle to discuss the lesson. As I wait for them to get settled around me, snippets of everything Reeves filters through my thoughts. His sweaty, firm body above me as he gave me one of my wildest orgasms ever. The sliver of vulnerability in the undercurrent of his words as he told me about his friend, Ben. The next thought about how he might be feeling right now pulls at my emotions. I make a mental note to text him after class, check how he is doing.
When I greet the parents, saying goodbye to the girls, Alex swifts by. She whispers in my ear while still in motion, “Jake’s.” I nod confirm with a quiet smile and she winks in response.
“I am planning on giving each of the girls a little solo part.” Inwardly scowling, I answer to a mother who asks me to give her daughter the solo part.
~~~
“God, some of the parents can be so controlling,” I tell Alex who’s standing by my side as we wait for the bartender to fix our drinks.
“Tell me about it. Sometimes I’m not sure who is more eager, the girls or the parents.” We nod in agreement.
“Where’s Toni?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder to the table where our group is. It’s Alex’s usual gang, minus one roommate/lover.
“I think we are over,” Alex says too casually to my taste. My brows knit in return.
“You think?”
Alex shrugs. “I haven’t seen her for a couple of days, and she hasn’t answered my calls.”
“Um, aren’t you guys living together?”
“I don’t know, she just hasn’t been around…”
“Aren’t you worried?”
She just shrugs it off again. “Toni is kind of strange at times. She should be let be.”
The bartender sets two shot glasses, a finger of scotch, and a beer bottle in front of us.
“To crazyass lovers!” Alex declares before throwing back her shot glass. I snicker and mirror her.
“Katie!” The bartender, I think Dan, or Danny was his name, grins at someone behind me. Hearing the familiar name, curiosity kicks in and I turn around to the miniature beauty who I saw with Reeves the other night, when I was spying on their somewhat emotional exchange.
“How you doing?” He asks in a gentle voice. Her response is a flit of eyebrow motion, saying “so, so.” He extends a hand over the bar to squeeze her shoulder. She is utterly pretty, in a fragile kind of way. Also from up-close she looks like a human version of Tinkerbell. A group of friends joins her, a fusion of the debate team meets the cheerleading squad. Tinker would be a hybrid of both.
Only when she sends a stare my way, I realize I’ve been gaping. I timidly smile and she echoes me. For a brief moment my heart teeters at the thought of her probably visiting her brother today with Reeves. My next breath is stolen from me, when my own past mixes with the realization. I take a moment to collect myself before getting back to Alex who joined the usual group while I was caught in my musing.
Once it floated to surface, my past, I can’t seem to focus on anything else. I just nod at the people talking to me. I’m too absorbed in my thoughts to even try and pretend to be responsive. Memories of home keep suppressing even after I’ve cleared the glass with the strong liquor. As the freight train hurtling in my head gathers momentum, my own traumatic past begins to entwine with the thought of the emotional torment Reeves must have gone through today. I text him.
Hey neighbour-friend, how are you doing?
When I check my phone again, for the tenth time in the past half hour, it’s still void of a response. Half an hour more is all I can tolerate before I say goodbye and hurry home.
I worry my lips, unlocking the door. I fidget while making my way to the kitchen, contemplating on checking in on Reeves. I get a scotch bottle and hold it in my hands, then put it back in the cupboard. I go to the bedroom next and change into a delicate, almost see-through negligee. I observe myself in the mirror and just shake my head, quickly changing to loose, flowery pajama bottoms and a white tee. I slip into my shoes, grab my key, and climb the stairs to the floor above.
It takes Reeves a few good minutes to answer my persistent knocks. Wearing nothing but black boxers, he squints his liquid green eyes at the light coming from the corridor where I’m standing at his doorstep. Behind him, the vast space of the apartment is dark. It doesn’t seem like he’s been sleeping much though, in fact, he couldn’t appear more restless.
“Hi,” I say softly.
He answe
rs with a silent questioning stare. A look that’s a combination of query, fatigue, and weariness. Tentatively, I take a step forward. As he takes one back to allow me inside, with a quicker heart, I take another. I turn to close the door behind me, shutting my eyes and taking a slow breath. I turn back to find Reeves’ hand in the quiet dimness. By the softest of moonlight coming from the balcony windows I find his stare and counter it with a gentle, reassuring one, leading him after me in silence. I leave my key at the counter as we pass by the kitchen on our way to the bedroom. I kick my shoes off, still holding Reeves’ hand and next, take him with me to bed.
Watching me through the sliver of moonlight with hard eyes, he follows suit. I softly kiss his lips before taking my place, resting my head on the pillow next to his. I watch his silhouette in the dark, placing my hand on his chest and just let him be. He moves his hand to cover mine and we both stay silent with our thoughts for an extent of time that feels as though a few hours have passed.
The sound of sheets crumpling as Reeves turns to face me breaks our prolonged silence. We watch each other intently for a breath as out of the blue he asks, “Why did you call me G.I. Joe the other day?”
Instinctively, my face heats up. I couldn’t be more grateful for the obscurity we lie in. I wouldn’t dream of letting the next words that leave my mouth in any other circumstances, but even for the mere possibility that what I’m about to tell him might cheer him up, I do.
I shift to lay on my back, cover my flaming face with my hands and blurt, “Because you look like the star of my military themed fantasy.” I couldn’t be more delighted at the chuckle that escapes his mouth. I pivot my head sideways and peek at him from between my spread fingers. He is grinning, genuinely grinning. I move my hands away and smile back at him, wholeheartedly. He just tugs me to him and cuddles me to his side. Soon after, he strokes my hair ever so gently and I fall asleep, content.
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