by Alice Tribue
He picks the tray up and places it on the floor. When he comes back, he pushes me down onto my back and hovers over me. The tenderness in his eyes unnerves me. “I’m honored that you told me.”
“Now what?”
He links his hands through mine on either side of my head and kisses me. “Now, I want to make you forget.”
Everything about that statement leaves me breathless. “How are you going to do that?”
“I’m going to get you the hell out of this apartment.” He pushes up and off the bed, pulling me with him. Getting out of my apartment is definitely not what I was expecting to hear. I’m sure my confusion is evident when I ask him for clarification.
“What?”
“Yeah, it’s a nice day. We can find a street fair or go to a museum. There’s always something to do in this city.”
As much as I was looking forward to more sex, I must admit that spending the day with him roaming the city sounds nice, too. The trip down memory lane didn’t do anything to spark my libido, anyway. I guess he feels the same way.
“I’ll take care of these dishes,” he says, picking up the breakfast tray. “You get ready.” That’s exactly what I do, pulling my hair back into a low ponytail and pairing a lilac chiffon top with jeans and sandals. I apply minimal make-up, and by the time I’m done, Nathan is dressed and ready to go, too. We leave my apartment hand in hand ready to explore the city. Funny… In all the time I’ve lived in New York, I don’t think I’ve ever done that.
“Where are we going?”
We make it to the corner, and he raises his hand to hail a cab.
“I think we need to make some new childhood memories.”
“But we’re not children,” I counter, sliding into the backseat of the cab. He slides in next to me, grabbing my hand in his.
“We can still act like them.”
“Really?” I question when we walk into what can only be described as hell on Earth. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many children running around one space in my life.
“Yup, you’re always so serious. It’s time for you to let loose, lighten up, and have a little fun.”
I consider his words as I take in my surroundings and try not to bolt. I thought maybe we could take a walk through Central Park or check out the new exhibits at the Metropolitan Museum of Art—hell, I would have settled for a movie, but this?
“An indoor amusement park? I’d rather be home doing other things. That would have been fun.”
“You have to at least be open to having fun.” He grins and takes hold of my hand. “Come on, what do you want to do first?”
“Gag a few screaming kids.”
“Laser tag it is, then.” He pulls me along, taking me deeper into the pit of chaos. We’re outfitted with some weird science goggles, given laser guns, and released into a room that reminds me a lot of a maze, only with neon lights everywhere. We separate and I make it my mission to stay hidden for as long as possible. Maybe I could sneak out the back entrance for a while, run down the street, and get a margarita. It’s not a bad plan, I think to myself as I go deeper into the room, avoiding the plethora of children screaming around me.
I see movement out of the corner of my eye, spot Nathan aiming his laser at me, and I scream, taking off as fast as I can and laughing when I make it around a corner and duck. I crawl through the first opening I see and bolt for the other side of the room. What the fuck am I doing? And why the hell am I smiling? Shit, maybe I am too uptight. I decide to go with the flow and embrace the giddy lighthearted feeling that I’m experiencing. There is a group of teenagers positioned around the corner and I blend in with them, trying to hide myself in their group so that I have a better chance of finding Nathan before he finds me. I have to admit, it’s almost exhilarating running around here like an idiot. Then I get my big break. In a moment of dumb luck, I find myself behind Nathan, and he has no idea I’m standing there, laser pointed at his back.
“Sorry to have to do this to you, baby,” I call out before shooting him in the back. “Haha! Gotcha!” I yell jumping up and down in excitement.
“Wow, really? You’re just going to rub it in, huh?”
“Yes,” I squeal as he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his ridiculously defined upper body. He goes in for a kiss, which I graciously accept, again making me wish we’d have stayed in bed.
“Good job,” he whispers in my ear.
We spend the next few hours here playing games, riding bumper cars, and eating junk food. Nathan was right when he said we would make a memory. We did—and it was a good one. Even though it wasn’t my idea of the best way to spend my day, I can’t deny that I had a good time. I laughed a lot, played a lot, enjoyed the company I was keeping, and perhaps a piece of my soul may have gotten just a little bit lighter today.
After walking around the city for a while longer and having a quiet dinner at a little hole in the wall Italian restaurant, Nathan and I finally make it back to my place.
“I had a good time today.”
“I’m glad, baby. I did, too,” he says with a grin. “I should get going.”
“Do you have to go?”
“I don’t want to outstay my welcome.”
“You’re not. You should stay; I want you to.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I confirm.
“All right, then. Let’s go to bed.”
I shake my head. “I’m not tired.”
His eyes heat, freezing me in my spot. One look from him and I’m a puddle of mush. He takes two strides in my direction, bends down, and I’m up and over his shoulder. “I said it’s bedtime, young lady,” he says, smacking my ass and causing me to squeal in shock. I start kicking my feet and yelling for him to put me down, but that only garners me another smack. Once in my room, he tosses me on the bed where I land with a bounce. I lift up onto my elbows and watch as he toes off his shoes and pulls his shirt off, followed by his pants and underwear. I stare at him in all his glory and I’d be crazy if I didn’t tell you that I am instantly drenched.
“Are you on the pill?”
“Yes.”
“Are you clean?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” he says, tugging my jeans off along with my panties and sandals. “I am, too.”
He climbs onto the bed and grabs the hem of my shirt to help me get it off. With only one hand, he reaches around and undoes my bra, ripping it from my body.
“I want to fuck you raw tonight. Would you like that, too?”
My heartbeat speeds right up, so fast that I’m afraid I may have a coronary any minute now.
“Answer me,” he commands, tipping my chin up with his hand.
“Yes.”
He spreads my legs and runs a finger through my folds. “I see you’re ready for me, baby,” he says coating his finger with my juices and licking it off. “Because I really need to take you hard right now.”
By the time I’ve registered what he’s said, he’s flipped me over onto my hands and knees, and in one motion, he’s inside of me, shoving into me mercilessly. And, fuck me, if it doesn’t feel phenomenal.
“Oh, fuck, you feel good,” he groans, using his hands to pull my hips back into him. “That’s it, baby, just like that. Do you like that?”
“Yes.” I whimper my response, unable to give him more because all I can do is feel what he’s doing to me. I’m shocked when I feel the sting of his hand on my ass again and surprised at how good it feels. As the sensations become more and more intense, my head instinctively falls. I bury my face in the mattress, crying out, “Oh God,” and other incoherent words, but Nathan has other ideas in mind. He smacks me again, eliciting another pleasured cry from me, wraps his hand around my ponytail, and pulls until I’m up on all fours again, taking what he wants to give me. I feel an intensity unlike anything ever before. I’m barely able to stay up in this position; I need to grab onto something, hold on for dear life and brace through the orgasm that’s surely about to d
estroy me.
With his arms wrapped around me now, he pulls me up so I’m on my knees, my back to his front, and his hand positioned over my pussy, fingering my clit relentlessly.
“Oh God, Nathan, please.”
“I’ve got you,” he says, sinking his teeth into my shoulder just as I explode. It literally feels like an explosion, like he’s blown me apart into tiny pieces and only a miracle can put me back together again. Mind blowing are the words that comes to mind. He lets me collapse back down onto my arms, my head buried in the sheets, as he finds his own release.
He flops next to me onto the mattress, panting almost as hard as I am.
“Did I hurt you?”
I lift my head up off the mattress just barely and look at him. “No, but I can’t move.”
He laughs, rolling onto his back and taking me with him until I’m resting mostly on top of him.
“I’m pretty sure it was worth it, babe.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“You tired now?”
“Exhausted.”
“Sleep then. You should rest so I can tire you out again in the morning.”
“Mmkay,” I mumble incoherently, my eyes fluttering as I struggle to keep them open. I fall asleep surrounded by Nathan—my body against his, my head on his chest, his hands rubbing my back—all the while thinking that this is as close to perfection as I’ve ever been.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“What are you doing?” Nathan’s face has a dumbfounded look that I choose to ignore.
“I’m separating the clothes.” He stares at the mounds of clothes looking just as confused as he did moments ago. After taking it in, he looks up at me, opens his mouth to speak, but says nothing. His gaze falls back to the clothes and he shakes his head then looks up at me again.
“Explain that.”
“Shirts with shirts, pants with pants, undergarments over there,” I say pointing to the small pile on the floor.
“You’ve really never done laundry before, have you?”
“I told you that, but you didn’t believe me.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” He’s fighting back a smile, I can tell. “You’re supposed to separate by color not type.”
“So pink with pink, blue with blue?” I ask, biting back a smile.
“No. Dark colors go together, light colors together, whites are separate.”
“Why?”
“So that you don’t ruin them. Here,” he says, pulling my clothes apart and putting them in different piles. “Why do you have a washer and dryer if you don’t wash your own clothes?”
“I have a cleaning person who comes once a week. She does it for me, but she’s on vacation. Now, enough with the judgmental attitude, okay?” I cross my arms over my chest giving him my defensive stance.
This gets me a glare. “I’m not judging you. It was a simple question.” I glare right back at him, and only when I’m satisfied with his answer do I relax my stance.
“All right, well, it’s real simple. Once you have them all separated like this, you put your first pile in the washing machine.”
He points, indicating that I should load the washer. I grab the first pile of clothes and toss them in the machine.
“Good, now your detergent goes in this little slot right here, usually a capful will do.”
I measure out a capful and pour it in then look up at him for further instruction.
“Set this dial to normal wash, warm water, and hit start.” Again, I do what I’m told and smile up at him when the machine starts to fill up with water.
“That wasn’t so hard.”
“Nope, not hard at all,” he says pulling me into a hug and touching his lips to my forehead. “Good job, baby.”
This is very much what the last few months have been like with Nathan, moments of normal—so normal that some people might consider them tedious or boring, but to me—well, to me, they’re everything that I’ve always craved. Sure, my dad gave me the best he could, he did the absolute best that he could, but I spent a lot of those years with him dealing with feelings of abandonment and insecurity. I wasn’t necessarily open to all the wonderful things he had to offer in the beginning, and I often wish I could have a do-over. Regardless of the struggle, we got past it, and now have a great relationship. Granted, much of it revolves around lies, but that’s pretty much the norm in my life.
With Nathan, I finally feel ready to allow him into my life, and even though I still can’t tell him the full story about my work, I can share other aspects of my life with him. Soon that will be all there is to tell because I’ve decided that it’s finally time to let the business go. To do what I have to do to secure the future of my girls, and then I’m closing the doors to that part of my life. I know there will be some of them that I won't be able to help and that is the hardest part for me to deal with. To know that some might choose to continue on the path they’re on and might do so in a less than safe way. The thought that they may end up hurt, abused, addicted to drugs, or even dead is paralyzing, but I have to move on. How will I ever have a life of my own if I don’t?
My mother made her choices and those choices had a detrimental effect on my life, but maybe now is the time to finally let it go. Yes, Nathan plays a huge part in that decision. Perhaps he’s the catalyst for change in my life, but I’d like to think that I would have arrived at this conclusion on my own eventually.
“Now what do we do?” I look up at him, barely recognizing myself—the dreamy sound of my voice and the needy feeling in my chest is new for me.
“Now we wait for the cycle to end.”
“How long does that take?”
“About an hour.”
“An hour?” I wrap my hand around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. “What are we going to do for an hour?”
“I think you need a more in-depth lesson on laundry basics.” He reaches for the hem of my shirt and pulls it up and over my head, throwing it down with the rest of the colors.
“Yeah, I think it’s still a bit confusing.”
He hikes up my skirt, pushing my panties to the side and running his finger along my wet folds.
“Put your hands on the washing machine, baby, and push that pretty little ass out for me.” His words and the depth of his voice make me even wetter and make me dizzy with need. He takes control easily, and for me, this has always been a problem in past relationships. Control is something that I like to obtain in my life, which makes it all the more puzzling that I have no problem handing some of it to Nathan. Perhaps it’s because the power shift between us usually ends in orgasmic bliss for me.
I turn toward the washing machine, place my hands on either side of it, and push my bottom out as far as it will go.
“Mmm, I like this; you look pretty in this position, baby.” Nathan palms my ass and I let out a moan, resting my head on the washing machine. “Don’t move,” he commands. His deep voice in my ear sends a jolt of electricity through me. The sound of footfalls puts me on alert. Is he leaving me here alone? The laundry room is in the back of my apartment, tucked away in its own little private room, and I wonder where in the hell he’s gone off to.
I relax when I hear him come back. His shirt hits the floor with the rest of the colors pile and he unzips and pushes my skirt down my legs leaving me only in my hot pink matching bra and panties.
He runs a hand up and down the inside of my thighs and gives me a gentle slap there. “Spread your legs wide for me, baby.” Once I’ve complied, his hands grasp my hips and he pulls me back, positioning me ass up again.
“On your tiptoes.” I flush at his newest command, feeling a little more vulnerable now, but I push through that and once again do as I’m told. He rewards me with a slap on the ass, and I suck in a surprised breath.
“You like how I fuck you, don’t you, baby?” he whispers, his lips right at my ear, not touching but close enough to feel the heat. His hand now held snugly between the lips of my pussy, causing me to whimper every time he
flexes.
“Answer me,” he demands, slipping a finger inside of me.
“Ahh, yes,” I reply on a strangled breath.
“I like fucking you too, baby.” A flick of his tongue on my earlobe, another whimper from me, and a second finger comes into play. “In fact, I think I like fucking you a little too much, but you’ll make it worth it, right?” He nips at the lucky earlobe. “You’ll be my good girl when I fuck you, right?”
Another cry from me, a harder slap on the ass from him.
“Answer me.”
“Yes,” I cry from both the sting of pain and the increasing pleasure from his fingers working me.
“Yes what, Tori?”
“Yes, I’ll be your good girl.”
“Good,” he says kissing the top of my head. He removes his fingers, the sound of his zipper telling me that I’m about to get him instead.
“Brace yourself,” he tells me right before slamming into me hard.
“Oh, fuck,” I cry, trying to make my muscles relax so that I can adjust to him from this angle. His hand slides up my torso, landing on my neck, and he grips it in an attempt to keep me tethered to him. I can’t explain why, but it drives me wild, makes this even hotter, and makes me even hotter for him. He pulls my head back so that I can look at him as he thrusts in and out.
“Right there. Stay right there,” he says, releasing my neck but keeping his lips planted on my forehead. I barely have time to register the distinct sound of buzzing before I’m feeling it on my clit, a vibrator (my vibrator) strategically placed. Nathan is holding it tightly to me, never relenting, now working me up with double the intensity. His other hand makes its way to my neck again, and I lose all control. I’m completely at his mercy, experiencing pleasure the way that he wants me to experience it. It’s both frightening and exhilarating.
His relentless rhythm along with the vibration of the bullet before me keeps me in a state of near delirium, crying out incoherencies.
“That’s it, I’ve got you,” I hear as he presses the vibrator harder onto my clit. That’s all it takes to send me deep into my climax, letting it consume me as I cry out an undetectable pattern of, “Yes,” “Oh God,” and “Nathan.” I hear him call my name in turn, as he reaches his own climax. When I come out of it, I realize we’re down on the ground now splayed across the floor, limbs intertwined, unable and unwilling to disengage. After a while, I decide it’s time to come clean.
