Mirage

by Alice Tribue

  “You had no right to pull me away from my meeting back there. You made me look like an idiot.”

  “Because having dinner with a known criminal isn’t idiotic enough?”

  I take a step forward getting right in his face. “Don’t you dare call me an idiot, Captain Caveman.”

  “I didn’t call you an idiot, genius.”

  “Nice.”

  “I’m sorry, but I care about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt because you’re dealing with the wrong people. What happens to you if he’s not satisfied with his wife’s care? You cannot trust a man like that.”

  “You don’t get to decide that for me. How did you know where I was, anyway?”

  “I didn’t. That’s one of my favorite restaurants, and I was picking up an order.”

  “Oh.”

  “Tori.”

  “Don’t call me that,” I whisper. He smiles at me and it reaches me everywhere, right to the heart of me, and I can’t help but to wish that his smile belonged to me. That I could command it to rise, like the sun does daily, and beam down on me, lighting me up from the inside out. I have to remind myself that I’m currently mad at him.

  “Okay, Tori,” he says with a chuckle.

  I lower my face to try to hide the hint of a smile tugging at my lips, but he’s not having it. He reaches over to me, placing his thumb and forefinger under my chin to lift my head until our gazes meet.

  “You shouldn’t hide your smile. It’s a pretty smile,” he says, releasing my face.

  I say nothing in response. I can’t formulate words, can’t manage a simple thank-you, because my mind is stuck. I’m stuck on his words. A simple touch from him makes me feel so much. I’m not sure what to do or say now; do I say good night here or ask him to come inside? He makes the decision for me, placing his hand on the small of my back, sending shivers throughout my already cold body. He nudges me gently, forcing my body to move. We enter the building and I muddle through my purse for my keys as we reach the door to my apartment.

  “Do you need help?”

  I shake my head, unable to regain composure enough to speak. I finally find the keys and start searching for the right one.

  “Open the door, Tori,” he commands softly.

  I feel his breath on the back of my neck, making my whole body flush with something I can’t explain. My hand feels shaky as I try to insert the key in the lock; he must notice it because he covers my hand with his, guiding the key in and turning it until the lock clicks open. His hand stays on mine as I turn the key back and pull it out. He takes them from me, turns the knob, and pushes the door open. I can feel the push from the hand still resting on the small of my back as I enter my darkened apartment. I hear the keys hit the entryway table and the door shut behind me. Taking a deep breath, I reach over to the light switch, needing to illuminate this space as quickly as possible.

  “Leave it off,” he says, his hands moving to grasp my hips and pull me until my back connects to his front. I release a shaky breath when I feel his arousal against me.

  “Nathan.”

  His hands move quickly to undo the three buttons of my light wool jacket. He slides it off me and tosses it on the table, moving his hands quickly back in place. He flicks my earlobe with his tongue then gently tugs at it with his teeth. I can’t control the involuntary moan that escapes from my lips.

  “Walk to the couch, baby,” he orders, and I don’t know why, but I obey.

  I walk through the darkened apartment into the living room. Nathan never loosens his hold on me; his fingers splayed on my hips are the only thing that my body responds to. My mind doesn’t understand what’s happening, but my body does. It’s craving him.

  We make it to the living room, and he turns me around so that we’re face to face with the back of my legs touching the edge of the couch. I close my eyes as he runs a hand through my hair. He leans into me, his lips barely touching my ear.

  “I didn’t like seeing you with him tonight.”

  “Why?” I breathe out, his lips traveling down until they reach my neck. I tilt my head to give him better access, and he sucks gently, spreading warmth all through my body.

  “I don’t know,” he says between licks. “You’re too good for an asshole like that.”

  “It was just business.”

  He pushes me down onto the couch, laying me down and forcing my legs open with his knees to position himself over me. He places a gentle kiss on my lips, leaving me breathless, unable to believe that this is really happening.

  “You’re just too good,” he says again before kissing me again, this time probing my lips with his tongue and forcing me to open my mouth for him. My hands grasp his hair and that’s all the acknowledgment or acceptance that he needs. His kiss is hot and deep, nothing like I’ve ever experienced before

  “Nathan, don’t.”

  “Don’t what, sweetheart…” he questions, cupping me through my pants. “Don’t fuck you? Is that it? Or don’t stop?”

  His fingers roam, deftly undoing the button of my pants, and his hand slides in. My head falls back on the couch when his fingers land on my clit.

  “Oh, my God,” I cry getting lost in the feeling his hands is creating; he plays my body against me, forcing me to push any doubts out of my head, forcing me to feel every single move of his fingers on me. His touch is gentle at first, building a sweet rhythm that has me moving my hips to match his movements. As his pressure intensifies, the peaks I begin to reach take me higher and higher, dipping then rising again until I’m begging him for more. “Nathan, please.”

  I can feel his lips on my cheek tip up into a smile as he lets up on his rhythm, slowing things down, and making me cry out again for a different reason this time.

  “I was almost there.”

  “Shh.” He slides his nose along mine rendering me speechless before kissing me again. Our lips disconnect and I reach out to him as he pulls himself up. He hovers over me for the briefest of seconds. His eyes are blazing; he wants this as badly as I do. Nathan tugs my pants and underwear off my body and tosses them aside. I take a moment to catch my breath, but Nathan is on his knees faster than I can manage my recovery. His mouth descends, making me wild as his tongue connects with my clit. It’s like a trigger igniting me, lighting me up from within. I find it difficult to control what I’m feeling; his attention to my body sets me off in a way that I’ve never experienced before. How he makes me realize that, up until now, I’ve been going through the motions with the men throughout my past. I didn’t understand that, couldn’t put it together, until I experienced something different, something bigger, something that to me meant more. I can only hope it means something to him, too.

  “Nathan, please.” I’ve never been one to beg, to ask for anything, my cold persona (a façade) and my pride wouldn’t let me stoop to that level, but with Nathan, I’m beginning to blur all boundaries.

  Perhaps, he understands what my begging means; how difficult it is for me not only to want him, but also to make myself vulnerable enough to verbalize it. That’s so unlike the woman that I’ve become—more like the woman I once was, a woman I chose to say good-bye to long ago. Not because she wasn’t good enough but because her heart was genuine, true, and damaged beyond repair. Or so I thought… But maybe Nathan… No, I can’t think about that now. I can’t let myself believe that someone can actually fix something so broken, but as I come in flashing lights of colors for just the briefest of moments, I don’t feel so broken at all. He kisses my inner thighs and then he’s back on the couch and pulling me into his lap.

  “You feel all right?”

  “I’m good,” I tell him, lowering my lips to his neck and placing gentle kisses there while I move to straddle him. He grabs hold of my waist keeping me where I am.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Why not?” I ask suddenly feeling embarrassed and confused.

  He tugs at a strand of my hair, releases it, and runs his thumb
gently up and down my cheek. It would be sweet if I weren’t feeling a certain type of way. “It’s not the right time.”

  “What does that mean, Nathan? We’re two consenting adults.”

  “I don’t want our first time to be on a couch, Tori, after we’ve just argued.”

  Pushing off him with as much speed as I can muster, I grab for my pants on the ground and pull them on as quickly as I can.

  “I get it.”

  “I don’t think you do,” he declares, obviously reading the agitation on my features.

  “What’s your game here, Nathan? You have been after me since day one, not the other way around, and now you’re acting like this.” I hesitate. “Like I’m not good enough for you.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing; you know that’s not true.” He takes two strides in my direction, and I take two steps back. But I’m not quick enough because he reaches out, grabs my wrist, and pulls me into him. His arms go around my waist and his forehead touches mine. “I care about you, sweetheart. I just don’t want to rush it, and believe me, I want you. I want you right fucking now, but I don’t think you’re one hundred percent in it yet. There’s still doubt there for you, and I don’t want to be just another regret that lives in your past.”

  “Maybe that was true but I’m getting there, Nathan. You know that.”

  “You’re getting there, but you’re not there yet.”

  Shit, I said it but didn’t even realize that I had. I’d never had anybody give a shit about my potential regrets; can I really be mad at that?

  “I just don’t know how to take you. I’ve never met someone like you.”

  “That’s because you’ve probably been dealing with assholes, babe. I’m an asshole, but not the kind who’s going to take advantage, take what you have to give, and give you nothing in return. I want in there, and in wanting that, I need to lay the groundwork in order for that to happen.”

  “You want in there?”

  “Yeah,” he says with a squeeze of his hands before letting me go. “Are we good now or are we going to spend any more of this night arguing?”

  “We’re good.”

  “Good, then can I stay?”

  “Yeah,” I tell him because there’s nothing I want more right now than to have him spend the night with me and revel in his words.

  I want in there.

  I’ve never had anybody say anything like that to me before. It scares and excites me, but I was happy to hear it. The time for talking is over when he pulls me into my bedroom. He heads into the adjoining bathroom to take care of business, giving me just enough time to get myself ready for bed by changing into a white cotton keyhole camisole and matching boy shorts.

  “You’re not making this easy on me, baby,” I hear from behind me. I turn to face him, giving him my best look of innocence. I try my hardest not to ogle his six pack or the way this boxer briefs hug everything just right. Why does he have to be so ridiculously perfect?

  “I don’t know what you mean.” I walk over to my oversized bed, pull back the covers, and slide in. A thick arm lands heavily across my middle and pulls me backward until I hit a warm body. He settles in around me, molding himself to me. He keeps me cocooned in his arms, surrounding me with his heat.

  I like it. I like it so much that I don’t hesitate to relax into his hold and close my eyes, making it easy for me to fall asleep. I don’t care that he interrupted an important meeting and pulled me out of there like a complete lunatic. I don’t care about any of it because I know that when I wake in the morning, Nathan will still be there.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Fuck,” I murmur, trying to stay upright on my heels as I sprint down the street. I’m already running fifteen minutes late. The fucking client bitching to me because his assigned escort is unavailable to him this week kept me in the office later than I had anticipated. I’m sorry she got her fucking period, asshole, is what I wanted to yell at him over the phone. Instead, I offered him a discounted rate for their next encounter. He would have liked me to offer up another girl but, unfortunately for him, that’s not how I do things.

  To make matters worse, the construction on this street prohibited my driver from dropping me off in front of the restaurant, so he had to let me off a block and a half down. Now I’m late to meet my father, who drove in from New Jersey just to have dinner with me. I run into the restaurant like a madwoman, thinking how remarkable it is that I didn’t break my neck sprinting here.

  I squeeze my way through the crowd of people waiting to be seated and reach the hostess station “Hi, I’m meeting someone. Samuel Powell.”

  “Of course. He’s already been seated. Right this way.” I follow her to the back of the restaurant and spot him instantly. I can’t help the smile that breaks out on my face when I reach him.

  “Daddy.”

  “Hey, baby,” he says, standing up and pulling me into a hug. It feels good to have him hold me like this; it’s been a while.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late. I got held up at work and then I had to run here.”

  “You running?” he questions sarcastically, holding onto my forearms and pushing me away slightly so he can have a good look at me. “I’d have paid to see that.”

  “All right, all right, don’t start in on me already,” I joke as he releases me. I take my seat across from him and shrug. “Sports were never my thing.”

  “Right,” he drawls, taking his seat and laying his cloth napkin across his lap. “Make-up and boys were always your thing.” He tries to mask the humor in his voice but fails because teasing is just his way. It gives me a sense of familiarity that maybe I’ve been missing for a while now. He always tried to make my life lighter; filled with more humor, more laughter, is what got me through my sadder moments.

  “So, tell me, what’s new?” He probes the way he always does. A question that anyone might ask, but his features say so much more. He’s here to do a fatherly investigation.

  “Nothing. Just working all the time.”

  I can tell he thinks I’m full of shit when he leans back in his chair and cocks his head to the side. “All work?” he questions with an arch of his eyebrows.

  “Pretty much,” I answer with a nod.

  My reply earns me a grin. “Who’s the guy?”

  “What guy?”

  “You think I don’t know my own daughter?”

  “No one knows me better.” Sad but true. Sad because even he doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does.

  “So, who is he?”

  “His name is Nathan.” I let out a sigh. “He works in security.”

  “Nice guy?”

  “Seems to be. It’s still new.”

  “Why didn’t you bring him?”

  “Because it’s still new, Dad.”

  “Doesn’t mean you can’t introduce him to your dad.”

  “It does if I want to keep him around.”

  “You’re still a brat,” he quips.

  “You’re still ridiculous.”

  “Look at your menu and decide what you want. I’m starving.”

  “Yes, sir.” I giggle and pick up the menu. This is what he’s always given me—comfort, the silly banter, and a lot of love. At times, I think that it might have come just a little too late, and the damage had already been done. I’d already seen too much—seen men at their worst. My dad is one of the good ones, one of the few good ones, and I wonder if I’ve finally found that in Nathan. At times, I think I have, but can I trust it? Trust what I’m feeling and listen to that instead of what my head tells me.

  “Is everything okay with you, Dad?” I ask him after our orders have been placed and our food has been brought out. “I know I’m not around much, and I’m sorry for that.”

  “I’m great, baby. I don’t want you to feel bad about your life. I know you’re busy, and I’m proud of you, proud of what you’ve become.”

  Every word that he says guts me because his pride in me is misplaced and unjustified. It’s based
on secrets and lies—he sees what I want him to see, he sees only what I let him see, and it’s all a mirage.

  ***

  I make it home, put on a pair of comfy pajamas, pour a glass of red wine, and sit in front of the television. As I flip through the channels, my mind wanders to thoughts of Nathan. I told him that I’d be having dinner with my dad tonight, and he told me that he would catch up with me tomorrow. I never asked him if he’d like to meet my dad or join us for dinner. I honestly didn’t think it was appropriate, but as I sat there with my dad, I almost wished I had invited him. In all the time I was with Collin, I never thought about introducing him to my dad. I guess I knew that it was a doomed relationship from the start.

  Nathan has yet to bug me about the hours I keep at work and the time it takes to run a business. I know it’s still new, but it’s promising. I’m almost hopeful that he doesn’t turn out to be like every other guy. Against my better judgment, I pick up the phone, pull up my contacts, and call Nathan.

  I freeze when an unfamiliar female voice answers the phone. “Hello?”

  One word; one word from her is all it takes to shatter the illusion and break through all of the smoke and mirrors to reveal what’s really there.

  “Hello?” she asks again, and I can’t speak. It really doesn’t matter what I say, it won’t change the fact that another woman is answering Nathan’s phone. I hang up and turn the phone off in case he realizes that I called. I don’t want to hear his voice or his excuse. No. Excuses are useless, and I won’t bother with listening to them.

  I settle on a classic movie and borough myself into the comfy cushions of my couch, all the while telling myself that I don’t care that Nathan is with another woman and that it’s for the best. I’ve always known what men are like, and he’s no different. I’ve always known that my time was better spent on myself and my career and hearing her pick up his phone is just the wake-up call that I needed. I ignore the burning in my chest and the stinging feeling in my nose and push back the unshed tears. They have no business falling over someone who clearly doesn’t deserve them, over someone who does not matter. I will not waste another moment, another thought, another breath on Nathan Lennox. As of this moment, he’s out of my life forever. Game over.