A Winter's Date

by Sasha Brümmer

  My mouth drops open, and his eyes go wide.

  “Jesus,” he says as he looks at the wall above our headboard. “Is she okay?”

  “I think so. She’s always been loud, but this is a new octave level, even for her.”

  He groans loudly and rolls over onto his back, pulling a pillow over his head and muttering a curse.

  I look over at him and giggle. “Way to kill the mood, huh?” I reach over and grab my book and sit up against the headboard, pulling the sheets up with me. “I’m sorry, baby,” I say before laying my hand on his naked chest.

  He stuffs the pillow under his head and reaches for a beer and his tablet.

  “Don’t apologize, ballerina.”

  He grabs his glasses that he only wears when he’s reading the newspaper on his tablet or studying. He’s so unbelievably sexy in them—I almost wish he’d wear them more often. I look at the two of us, and almost snort. We look like an old couple in bed, without a sex life.

  A minute later there’s a banging against our wall, and we both look at each other. Poor Noah is so sexually frustrated and now we’ve basically got a porno beating against the wall behind us. I giggle when he groans and slides down the bed, flinging his arm over his eyes.

  “Dammit. I cannot stay in here. Get dressed. We’re going out.” He gets up and walks toward the closet while I take in his naked tush.

  God, this sucks. I’m broken and can’t even make love to my boyfriend. As Noah gets dressed, I try to wiggle out of bed without hitting my foot.

  He’s in the closet pulling his shirt over his head when the noises in the other room reach an all-time high. Holy F!

  Noah groans in a protest.

  “Oh, come the fuck on.”

  When he emerges from the closet, he already has clothes for me in his hands. “Here. It may not match but I have to get out of this sex den.”

  He helps me get my pants on, and then does my boot while I work on getting my top on. Of course he doesn’t get me any panties to wear. Classic Noah. Soon after we leave we’re at a local cafe, picking out gelato flavors for each other to try and help get our minds off our frustrated libidos.

  NOAH

  Almost two weeks have passed since we lost something precious. Dani and Brannon have been gone for a week now, and the apartment has been quiet. I believe Coen leaves tomorrow, so we’ve decided to give Dillen and Coen some alone time. Heather and I are sitting in Costa, working on our second lattes.

  I’m playing with her fingers—just touching her comforts me. “Heather? I need to talk to you about something.”

  She’s looking at her phone and not paying much attention to anything else. “Okay, what about?”

  “It’s about my parents.” I watch her carefully. “I want to meet them, and I want you to be there with me.”

  She shifts uncomfortably in her seat and squeezes my hand as she sets her phone down. “I would love to, but I also need to talk to you about them. I uhmm . . .”

  “Would either of you like a refill?”

  We’re interrupted by our waitress, and I notice Heather’s shoulders slump. I answer her while Heather searches for something in her purse, pulling out a bottle of her medication.

  “Yes, please.”

  I watch her carefully as the waitress places our mugs on her tray. I look up at the waitress. “I’d like a warm buttered croissant too, please.” I know that Heather can’t take those pills without eating because they make her sick.

  “Of course, I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she answers politely and walks away. I rub the tension out of my jaw and take her hand again.

  “Baby? Are you in pain? Do you want to leave?”

  “No, I’ll be fine. Okay, so . . . your parents?” She urges me to continue.

  “I’ll need to tell Joel I’m ready to meet them. I don’t even know how in the hell this is going to go.”

  “It’s going to be emotional for everyone involved. Are you going to call them or will Joel?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe this is a bad idea.” I start questioning everything I’ve been thinking about. “Shit, maybe I should just wait.”

  As she’s about to reply, I interrupt her to say, “Hell, they’ve been waiting for thirty years. I can’t make them wait any longer.”

  “Wait . . . I thought you were twenty nine? Ugh, I’m such an awful girlfriend.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “I may be your Greek god, but I still age, baby.”

  “Noah Ryan,” she sits up straight with a frown marring her face. “Why did you tell me you were twenty-nine then?”

  “I was twenty-nine when we met. I turned thirty on April third.”

  “But . . .” Her mouth drops open, and surprise fills her eyes. “That was almost two weeks ago!” she shouts in realization.

  “I know, and you gave me the best gift by waking up for me.” I lean over and kiss her when the waitress gets back, attempting to calm her.

  “Noah . . . I’m so sorry,” she says, frowning, and throws her arms around my neck. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I laugh at her scolding me. “It just wasn’t important. Your waking up and being okay was.” I breathe her in and smile. “You gave me exactly what I wanted.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “I’m still mad about this, Ryan.”

  “You can make it up to me. How does that sound?”

  She easily grins and kisses my jaw. Her little storm has passed. “Okay, fine, I will.”

  “What does your sexy little ass have in mind?”

  “No, it’s a surprise.”

  “I like surprises, Miss Lane, especially if they involve your naked body.”

  She nips at my lip, and I growl, “Now swear to me that you’ll be there to meet my parents with me . . .”

  She stares at me for a few minutes, and I’m worried she’ll say no, but then she smiles softly. “I swear I’ll be by your side, Noah.”

  “Thank you, ballerina. Now eat your croissant.”

  She kisses me quickly, and then starts to eat. I’m feeling much better about the situation, and I’m relaxed for the first time in a while. I lean back in my chair and put my arm around the back of hers.

  “Mmm, this is good. Do you want a bite?” she asks as she holds up the croissant to my lips. I take her fingers into my mouth and suck on them, before biting off a piece of the croissant. She whimpers, and I wink.

  “Don’t tease me.”

  “Ballerina, you love being teased. Now get that little ass on my lap.”

  I watch her squirm in her seat, before she gets up and sits down on my lap. I’m the luckiest son of a bitch to have this gorgeous woman. She keeps me stable and strong. I’d crack without her in my life. Hell, I did crack.

  She lays her head on my shoulder and whispers, “This is hardly the place for me to be sitting on your lap.”

  “I couldn’t give a fuck. I want you here, and this is where you want to be.” I tap her ass playfully so she knows not to argue with me. “I . . . uh, I wanted to tell you that I got an email this morning from the character and fitness examiners of New York State . . .” I trail off, thinking about what the email said.

  “What did it say?” She’s staring up at me with those beautiful jade green eyes.

  “It said that I passed.”

  Her smile is beaming, and I swear it lights up the entire coffeehouse.

  “Baby, that’s wonderful.”

  “Yeah, I’m excited for this nightmare to come to an end.”

  “You’re going to do great. When is it?”

  “It’s at the end of July, but I’m going to sign up for a six-week course before I take it. I need the refresher.” Shit, I’m basically telling her that I’m leaving.

  She stares up at me, and I wait for the tears. “I . . . can I come home with you?”

  I think my heart just stopped. Wait what? “You want to go home?”

  She nods. “I want to go home.”

  I sigh deeply and rub my face in dis
belief. “Wait a minute, let’s think about this. Of course I want you to come home with me, but you followed your dream all the way here. Are you sure you want to just up and leave?”

  “I got my chance, and they are not going to wait on me. They’ve already replaced me, Noah. Mr. Norwich sent me an email telling me that they are going to go ahead with Alexis because of my carelessness.”

  “None of that was your fault, Heather.”

  “I know, but I want to leave.”

  I hurt for her in this decision she has to make, because there is no going back once she decides to leave. “I’ll take you home; you just let me know when.” I’m trying damn hard to hide how fucking ecstatic I am about this. I want her in my bed, in her bed.

  “Now tell me, how are you feeling? And no, I don’t want a one-word answer this time.”

  “I’m fine,” she replies, and I raise my eyebrow. “What? That was two words. I’m serious, I’m okay, really.”

  I move my hand off of her little ass and bring it back with a vengeance. She yelps, and we get a few glances from the other patrons nearby. “Heather Lane . . . you’ll tell me the second you aren’t, correct?”

  She’s been texting all day, and I’m anxious to know who she’s texting. “Do you mind putting down your phone for a few minutes and talking to me?”

  “I’m sorry,” she says as she puts her phone down again. “Yes, I’ll talk to you.”

  I sigh and take her lips, kissing her intimately in front of all of these people.

  “Now . . . I want you to tell me. How do you feel? I want the truth,” she asks as she stares me down.

  “Me? You don’t give the truth, but you want it? We’re playing that game, huh?”

  I take a few seconds to breathe and rein in my emotions before continuing. “Okay. I’m pissed. I’m anxious, and I don’t fucking understand why everything good in my life turns to shit and makes my life a living hell.”

  She scowls and gets off my lap, sitting down in her chair. “All right . . . but what do you mean I’m not giving you the truth?”

  I move closer to her and pick her stubborn little ass off of the chair and move her back onto my lap. “I know you’re hurting. We haven’t discussed this, but we’re going through it together, ballerina. I’m here.”

  Her body is tense and unmoving. She stares forward, and I regret my comment. I don’t want her irritated with me. She’s silent. Fuck. I exhale and rest my forehead on her shoulder. My voice low so only she can hear, I tell her the truth, “I’m devastated, Heather. I’m hurting, and I want you to open up to me.”

  She moves in my arms and curls up, nuzzling into my chest. “Me too. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep your baby.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for. You were incredibly strong and you fought through the pain. I fucking love you—do you hear me?”

  “Yes, I hear you.”

  HEATHER

  I can’t wait anymore for him to wake up. It’s just after six in the morning, and I’m wide awake. I think I’ve finally snapped out of it. Last night after we got back from the coffee shop, Noah and I had a long, emotional conversation about our baby. The baby we lost. We came to the conclusion that we’ll have each other, and we need to lean on each other as well. No more hiding things.

  Of course I agreed, but I just can’t tell him everything, at least not yet. I’m not sure how he’ll handle it. I still haven’t dealt with it myself. Keeping this a secret will come back to haunt me, I’m sure, but there is no way I’m telling him how I know his parents. Dani keeps pressuring me daily and has threatened to let him in on my secret herself. I keep telling her that I’ll tell him, but I just need more time, time that I seem to be running short of. He’s just as emotionally unstable as I am right now, and I’ll know when the time is right.

  I can’t lie here any longer, so I get out of bed as quietly as I can and grab my crutches. I make my way into the bathroom to use it while he’s asleep and try to shower. I’m almost in shock when I realize I’m no longer bleeding. I haven’t had any pain in over a week and now this. I’m so excited I could scream. I’m so beyond overjoyed that Noah could walk in here right now and catch me peeing, and I wouldn’t even care. Gah . . . If only I could dance right now, I’d be ecstatic. I feel like a heavy weight has been lifted off of me. I’ll finally be able to please my man with more than my mouth. I shower as quickly as I can without falling and get dressed, sneaking my way past Noah and into the closet.

  Last night Noah told me he was going home soon to start studying for the bar exam. I can’t stand the thought of being without him now, so I told him I wanted to go home with him. I made that instantaneous decision without regret; I won’t leave my Greek god ever again. I start taking all of my clothes off of the hangers and begin packing them into my suitcases. An hour later, my hair has air dried, falling in loose, messy waves down my back, and I’ve packed almost everything of ours.

  Noah must have been exhausted, because I moved from the closet to the bedroom to pack, and he never woke up. There are clothes scattered all over the bed that I’ve yet to pack, but I need a break. My foot is in a lot of pain, and I think I’ve overdone it. I’m about to get back into bed when he stirs and reaches for me. He lifts his head when he can’t find me.

  “Baby? What’s wrong? Why are you up?”

  I can’t help but smile. He’s so perfect, and he’s always concerned about me.

  “I couldn’t sleep. Go back to sleep, I’m fine,” I lie through my teeth because my foot really hurts, but he doesn’t need to know that.

  He sits up and rubs his eyes before forcing them open. Blinking, he takes in the mess that is now our bedroom. He peers down at the folded clothes on the floor and the outfits I have strewn on the bed. “What are you doing? Can you not figure out what to wear?”

  “I’m packing,” I say as I sit on the bed.

  “Packing?” He swings his legs off of the bed, and I watch his muscles shift with each progression of his limbs. He walks into the closet and turns to face me when he notices that nothing is in the closet anymore. “You packed my shit too?” he asks with a cocky smile playing on his lips. He’s got a five o’clock shadow, and it looks unbelievably titillating.

  “Yes,” is all my worked-up body can squeak out.

  I think he notices my eyes roaming his toned, gorgeous body because the air shifts between us. His body moves toward me, and I’m about to drool, but I’m out of breath and panting. What is he doing to me?

  “Is this you telling me you want to go home sooner than later?”

  He’s so close—I can feel the heat radiating off of him. My body defies me by getting up and moving even closer. I blink up at him seductively. My body has a mind of its own as I trace the outline of his nipple before trailing my finger down the middle of his torso to the deep end of his carved-out V, right where his boxer briefs begin.

  “I want you to take me . . .” I pause and watch his eyes darken. “ . . . home.”

  “Take you?” He repeats as I slide my finger under the hem of his boxer briefs. I think he’s lost his mind too. His cock is straining and stretching the material of his boxer briefs to its limit. I glance down to take in the monstrous view.

  My pulse is already racing because I know he can touch me. He just doesn’t know it yet. I sit down on the edge of the bed and pull his briefs down a little until I’m eye level with his monstrous erection. I slowly lick the head of his cock, and he groans loudly.

  The aching in my sex is almost painful as I bare my teeth and slightly bite down just below the head of his cock.

  “Holy shit!”

  I insert the tip of my tongue into his slit and get a taste of his sea-salty pre-come. I whimper in delight as I take what I can of his heavy, palpitating cock between my lips. He reaches back against the dresser to steady himself as I start pumping him with my fist. My hands look miniscule compared to his length. He’s so thick and now wet from my mouth that I want him in more than one place.

  �
��Do you like that, Noah?” I ask him as I lean back and pull my tank off and toss it. I look back up at him, and his chest is heaving with deep breaths.

  “Shit, baby, you’re a fucking expert at pleasing me. I . . .” He hisses through his teeth when I scrape my teeth up his shaft ever so gently. “ . . . motherfucker!”

  I love the feeling I get when I hear him lose his cool. I feel exceptionally powerful. He genuinely enjoys every touch, bite, and lick I give him. I cup his heavy balls and feel them tighten with the need for release.

  “Fucking shit . . . I’m going to bust in that dirty mouth of yours.”

  His fingers move into my hair, and he grips momentarily, but lets go almost instantly as if he remembers himself. He brings his hand down underneath my chin, cupping my face gently, reverently.

  “I want it,” I breathe out, taking him in my mouth once again. “Come in my mouth, Noah,” I say when I pull him from my mouth to take a much-needed breath.

  His cock jerks violently when I wrap my lips around his shaft again. I keep a fast and steady rhythm with my mouth and hand as I pump him. That’s when he erupts. His hot, silky come spurts into my mouth and coats my throat as he struggles to stand upright. His sultry storm is back with a vengeance as I taste his liquid candy.

  I hum my appreciation and swallow everything I can, but there’s still so much that spills from my lips. I look up at him through my lashes as I continue to swallow him. He’s wearing a look of pure euphoria. He tangles his hand in my hair, removing his cock from my mouth. I feel his eyes move down my throat to my breasts, following a trail of his salty pleasure.

  “Holy fuck . . . good morning to you too, you sexy piece of ass.”

  Before I’m able to say a word, he’s got me on my back on top of the clothes scattered on the bed. I can’t help but giggle and kiss his bare chest. “Good morning.”

  “How are you feeling? Are you okay this morning?”

  Feeling? The only thing I can feel is the painful ache between my thighs and his hard, pulsing cock pushing against my skin. I pull him down to kiss me hard. My body is coiled and needy. I shake my head no when I release his lips. “Not good.” I whisper out breathlessly. “I’m aching.”