Connected

by A. E. Murphy

  I burst out laughing. “That’s not true.”

  “It should be. Growing up with my siblings. You’d see why. They’re worse than my two, and my nieces and nephews… Christ, don’t get me started.”

  “I bet it’s nice having a big family,” I say wistfully, picturing it in my head. Nathan and I will never have cousins, siblings or huge family barbecues. It’s sad to think about. I wonder if we’ll ever have a baby. I’ve never even thought about it before. Dillan is too young to be thinking about having another, but… it’d be nice one day. If Nathan has been like this with Dillan, I wonder what he’ll be like with our future child.

  “Yeah,” she agrees. “It’s ace. Can I ask one thing?”

  “Sure.”

  “Are you both going to a wedding? What’s with the suit?”

  Snort. “It’s an inside joke.”

  When night time falls and I’m tucked into bed at Nathan’s house, I check my phone for the millionth time and frown when I see I’ve not received a text since two this afternoon. That text stated that Nathan would be staying in a hotel for the night and that he’d be back tomorrow.

  I hope he’s okay. It’s odd that he hasn’t called.

  When morning comes, I feel my unease rise when I see that yet again he hasn’t called. When I try and call him, I get no response. I’m worried. As I have every right to be.

  It’s not until eleven that I receive a call from Jeanine. It’s a welcome surprise. I detach Dillan from my bosom and place him in his bouncer while I take the call, so as not to disturb his sleeping form.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi Guinevere, just a quick call.”

  “No problem, I’m not busy.” I smile, genuinely happy to hear from my old friend. “How are things?”

  “Great, really great in fact. I’m actually calling because I’ve just left Nathan’s and well… he’s there. I wasn’t sure if you two fought or anything. He looks…” She seems to think for the right word. “Miserable seems a bit overstated, sad is understated.”

  “Oh.” Why the hell is he there? “Was he alone?”

  “Yes, as far as I could tell. I hope you don’t think I’m causing trouble. I was just concerned that something had happened.”

  “No, everything is fine. As far as I’m aware, he’s sorting out the store.”

  She hums and I hear a door close as she moves around her house I assume. “My husband says he saw Nathan’s car in the driveway around noon yesterday. When I arrived this morning, it didn’t look like he’s left since he arrived.”

  What? “Oh… okay.” My heart aches with worry. “Could you tell him to call me? You don’t have to give anything away, just tell him… Dillan’s sick or something. I don’t know.”

  “Sure. I have to go. I’ve got a piano lesson in five minutes. Take care Gwen.”

  “You take piano lessons?”

  “No sweetie, I teach them,” she chuckles and the line goes dead. Oh my god. Was I that self-absorbed when I lived with Nathan?

  No, I immediately defend myself. I was buried under too much grief to pay attention to anything else. Besides, it might be something she’s only recently started doing.

  When my phone lights up with Nathan’s name, I don’t delay in answering it. My relief is apparent when I say, “Hey.”

  “What’s wrong with Dillan?”

  “Nothing. It was a sly tactic I used to get you to call me.” I frown, wishing I could see his face. “I miss you. What’s going on?”

  He lets out a long sigh and I hear his office chair creak as he sits. “I just needed some time away.” Oh… that hurts. “No, don’t, I can practically see your expression in my mind. It’s not about you. It’s me. Let’s just say I need to battle a few demons.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He laughs a little. “Would you have let me go?”

  Meh… he has a point. “I want to help you; is that so bad?”

  “No, but you were right when you said that if I give up on myself I can’t be helped. I want to be better for you. It killed me seeing you disappointed when I said no the night before last.”

  I really wish I’d hidden my emotions better. It was just the first reaction, I didn’t mean it. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

  I frown again, really wishing I could see his face. “It’s not yours either.”

  “I know. For once I actually believe that.”

  My frown vanishes and a smile takes its place. My heart feels warm at his words. Could it be that we’re breaking through? If so… finally. “I love you. If it gets too much, call me. I’ll come straight there.”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s better I do this alone; you’ll distract me.”

  “Okay then. Make sure you eat!”

  He chuckles, the sound traveling straight through me and pooling in my stomach. “I will. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Unfortunately he doesn’t call me tomorrow. He doesn’t call me the next day either. By the third day I’ve had enough. I no longer want to leave him to do this alone. I’m scared that the longer he stays away, the more he’ll want to stay away. The easier it’ll be for him to stay away and become the recluse he once was and the harder it will be for him to come back and be the man I know he can be.

  Gwen: I need to borrow your car please.

  Sasha: Why?

  Gwen: I have to go to London.

  Sasha: Why?????

  Gwen: Nathan left. Can you have Dillan? Just until tomorrow. I need to do this.

  Sasha: I’ll pick you up in ten. Have him ready.

  I barely speak to Sasha as I pack a bag and leave her with Dillan. I drive like a crazy person to the village. The sooner I get there, the better. My mind is plagued. I need to resolve this and so does he.

  My phone rings as I’m heading down the motorway, keeping with the speed limit as it’s been a while since I’ve driven. I don’t want to cause an accident. Dillan needs his mother.

  But his mother needs his uncle.

  That would make an amazing novel. To read about it would be heart breaking and moving, but to actually experience it, it’s terrifying, dreadful, shameful and so darn beautiful it hurts.

  I don’t regret anything, well… apart from stringing Eric along. Nothing good could have come from that and that’s my mistake. No doubt karma will bite me in the arse for that one, although I hope it goes easy on me. I’ve suffered enough already. I’m not sure how much more I can take.

  I’m not even sure what I’m doing.

  Do I really want this?

  I can’t back out now.

  It’s when I reach his house in the middle of nowhere that my body begins to betray me by trembling like a leaf. I hate this place… but if it’s where he is, I’ll deal.

  Here goes nothing. I knock on the door and wait.

  “What are you doing here?” Nathan grips the doorframe, looking as frightened as I feel inside.

  But there’s no time for fright. I need courage for what I’m about to do.

  I step up to him so my body is flush with his, my eyes level with his throat, and I see the strong corded neck bob in the centre when he swallows before tilting his head down. His eyes widen when I hook my arm around his neck and bring his lips down to mine. At first he’s unresponsive, but I keep insisting he kiss me back by moving my lips over his. Forcing him to take a few steps back, I use my free hand to grip the lapel of his jacket and slide one side over one arm. His mouth parts and I instantly push forward, my tongue entering his mouth, and he tastes divine. Coffee and Nathan.

  Like all of our other kisses, my body instantly responds as a scorching heat spreads from my lips to my limbs and to my core, causing it to clench in need. Not want, need. Pure lust and desperation for this man who I shouldn’t want, but Christ do I want him.

  His hands come up to grip my arms. For a moment he’s about to push me away. I can tell by the way his body tenses. But at the last second I hold him tighter, not so mu
ch that it makes him uncomfortable, but enough to tell him I’m not going down without a fight. Nathan pulls me tighter to him. I feel his abnormally large shaft between us, no doubt pressing uncomfortably against the non-giving fabric of his suit pants. It only makes me needier. Overcome with greed, greed for this man, I push him backwards until his back hits the wall between the living room door and the stairs. His shoulder connects with the light switch, plunging us into darkness.

  This is good. Now he can’t see what I’m doing before I do it.

  Releasing his neck, I grip the other side of his jacket, relieved when he shifts his arms in a way that helps me tug it from his body completely. My hand searches for the top button of his shirt. I’m grateful he chose not to wear a tie today. It makes my ‘naked Nathan mission’ that much easier to achieve.

  “Gwen,” he pants when I finally release his mouth.

  I grip the top of his shirt, fuelled by a sexual desire I’ve been denying myself since the first moment he touched me so long ago.

  “Don’t talk,” I order on a whisper. “Don’t think.”

  Even in the dark I can see the magnificent brown of his eyes as they connect with mine and widen with lust, a hint of fear still lingering on the surface, fear that I’m determined to destroy.

  The sound of buttons hitting the ground startles Nathan, or maybe it’s the fact I’ve just ripped his shirt apart. I could have unbuttoned it, but I daren’t give him time to back out. He needs this. I need this.

  There’s no hair on his chest save for a light sprinkle of it over his sternum. I make a note of this every time I get the pleasure of seeing it, which isn’t often. Only a dark line of soft hair leads from his navel to the depths below. I love this too.

  His chest is smooth and silky, velvet over steel. His solid muscles twitch and quiver as my fingers scrape over them.

  Once more my mouth connects with his, but only for a second. My body jolts as I’m thrown over his shoulder. He takes the stairs two at a time before entering my old bedroom.

  I’ve not even hit the mattress before his body is covering mine and his lips are assaulting my own. Squeezing his hips with my thighs, I wind my fingers through his hair and my body bucks against him. The dampness that was already between my legs only increases; it’s uncomfortable. My jeans need to go.

  Tearing sounds into the darkness and I feel the room’s air lift the tiny invisible hairs across my chest and navel. He just ripped my top in half. I guess I deserve that.

  We don’t say anything as he lifts me slightly, enabling him to pull my top off the rest of the way without disconnecting our mouths. As soon as my back hits the soft quilt, I use all of my strength to push him onto his. He gasps slightly, clearly shocked at my abrupt movement.

  I slide to my knees on the floor and grasp his belt with my fingertips. The buckle clangs and clatters as I pull the leather free of its tight hold. “Gwen,” he warns, leaning up on his elbows, his eyes hooded yet nervous. “Don’t.”

  “If you say stop and I know you mean it, then I’ll stop,” I assure him, which isn’t necessary because he could easily overpower me. The fact he’s letting me get this far with him shows his trust.

  The belt finally pulls free, but his hand grips mine when I pop the button through the tiny slit and quickly slide the zipper down. “Condom.”

  If this were any other man I’d agree, but it’s not. It’s Nathan and he uses condoms for more than just protection against STIs and pregnancy. He uses them so he can’t actually feel a woman’s wetness. He uses them as a barrier between him and intimacy. I’ve learned this the hard way. I never want to be in that awkward situation again.

  Pushing his hand away, I tug on his trousers until they slide over his tight navy blue boxers and pool at his ankles. He allows me to lift his feet and pull them off the rest of the way. His breathing is ragged and I’m not sure it has anything to do with being horny anymore.

  This assumption is proven to be correct when my fingers hook gently over the waistband of his boxers. A sob like noise tears up from his chest and I suddenly notice his body trembling.

  What the fuck?

  Guilt encompasses me in a grip that steals all of the air from my lungs. My chest aches in a way it hasn’t before. So much pain in such a seemingly strong man… I can’t let him have it anymore. He needs to share it with me.

  No.

  He needs to give it to me, all of it.

  I climb up his body and settle on him so my breasts squish against his bare chest, my ankles up in the air behind me. I wonder if he’ll remove my bra. I really hope he will, but this is about him, not me, so I’m not going to remove it myself.

  “Nathan?” I remove his hands from his face and scan his cheeks for any sign of tears. No tears, just fear and anger.

  His accusing eyes come to me. I know he’s about to say something bad to get me to leave him alone. There’s no way I’m giving him that chance. I gently press my lips to his for a few seconds while my eyes close slowly and my body relaxes onto his.

  When I feel his shaking subside, I lean up, my hair cascading over one side of our faces. I rub my nose along his, up and down the side. He lets out a sigh and grips my arms, clearly intending to push me away.

  So I say the words I’ve longed to say but had no courage to before, due to my fears of betraying a certain somebody, somebody I’m not going to think about in this moment. This moment is for us; Nathan and I. Nobody else. Not even you know who.

  “I’m in love with you.” Shutting my eyes once more to shield myself from the shock that plagues his, I press my lips gently to his again. In those five words I know something significant has changed in him. Something has changed in this moment between us. My lips move to his jaw as his hands relax on my arms and come around my back, trailing a gentle pattern over my spine.

  I don’t focus on the burning it causes in my stomach; instead I focus on what needs to be done. Sliding down his body, inch by glorious inch, my lips taste his flesh. Finally I reach the waistband of his boxers and I wait a while, kissing along the edge, before finally pulling them down and over his impressive shaft, which points to ceiling for a moment before lolling backwards towards his stomach.

  “Gwen,” he says and I see his hands go back to his face. “I can’t do this.”

  “Trust me,” I say and pull his hands from his face. “Don’t look; just feel.”

  I trail the tips of my nails over the sack that hangs beneath his solid rod. How the hell I’m going to fit that in my mouth I have no idea.

  It twitches when I trail my nails along the underside ever so gently. He lets out a guttural grunt that makes his entire body spasm.

  “I’m going to hold you now,” I warn him, giving him a chance to get used to the idea.

  My hand wraps around him slowly, carefully, but with the right amount of pressure that I know he’ll like. He shudders, the toned ridges of his abdomen clenching as he inhales a sharp breath.

  Poking my tongue out, I gently touch the swollen, red tip of him. His hands come to my shoulders and his torso knifes upwards until I feel his smooth skin touching the top of my hair.

  I don’t give it another second. I instantly envelope him in my warm, wet mouth, salivating at the thrill of finally tasting him. He moans loudly, his hands coming to my head almost as if unsure where to hold and unsure whether or not he should push me away or push me down on him further.

  “Gwen,” he pants, as I slide him from between my lips, caressing the underside of his throbbing cock with my tongue. “Do that again.” I try not to smile and fortunately succeed, even though I’m doing cartwheels inside. Back down I go, this time deeper, my cheeks hollowing as I suck and move back up with excruciating slowness.

  My free hand strokes the inside of his thigh before settling on the delicate sack between his legs. I roll the balls gently between my fingers, my mouth picking up speed now that I know he’s comfortable.

  “Gwen,” he repeats and I have to admit I love the way he says my na
me when he’s clearly absorbed by the pleasure that I’m giving him.

  My head is tugged away after a few more seconds, his hand fisted in my hair. He looks at me, his breath heavy, his chest heaving and his pupils fully dilated.

  Gulp.

  I’m lifted as he stands and pushed roughly onto the soft bed, my body bouncing once. My jeans are being tugged down my legs and I don’t have time to lift my hips to help him as his strength does that for me.

  Next my thong is gone and his eyes take me in for a very brief moment before he pushes my legs apart with his hands on my knees and lies between them. Instantly I feel his steel length pressing against my stomach as he presses his mouth to mine and grinds against me.

  I’ve never felt so deliriously and deliciously aroused in my entire life, especially when he unclips my bra at the front with one hand and manoeuvres me until it’s away from my body.

  He shifts slightly to the side, giving himself space to guide the head of his cock to my entrance. He rests it there, the tip barely tapping at my tight core that wants to be filled by him so badly.

  I tilt my head and catch his eyes. He grabs my wrists and brings my hands to either side of my face. I inhale a shuddering breath when he laces our fingers together and rests his forehead on mine.

  “Nathan,” I murmur softly, trying to give him the encouragement he clearly needs. His eyes are no longer on me; they’re looking down, at nothing in particular. Tortured is the only emotion he’s giving me right now.

  “I need to put on a condom,” he states and goes to pull away. I hook my legs around his thighs and hold him tight. He glares at me. “I’m serious, Gwen.”

  Freeing one hand, I place it against his cheek and kiss the corner of his mouth. My fingertips stroke the edge of his hair and the shell of his ear. I want to state the fact that he’s still rock solid, so he can’t be hating this that much. I don’t. Instead I give him a moment to find his calm. I won’t force him into this, but I won’t let him back away out of fear and habit.