Wallflowers: One Heart Remains

by CP Smith

  I turned and headed back to the bar and grabbed two to-go cups, smiling at Nate when he raised a brow at me. Yep, I was totally acing the whole girlfriend thing. It was like I was made to be Nate’s woman.

  I handed him my order. “Five beers and three margaritas. I put them in two lines. Beer on your left, margaritas on your right.” Nate looked at the lines then crooked his finger until I moved behind the bar where I shouldn’t be.

  “What are you doin’, Kitten?”

  “Takin’ care of you, of course.”

  Nate looked surprised at first, then his eyes blazed with something I liked a lot. Hunger. I hadn’t seen it a lot in my life, but I’d seen it. And it looked great on the man drinking me in. I was so happy, not happy-ish, and relaxed at that moment. I could have moved on from taking care of myself with his help to wrapping my legs around his back while he slid inside me.

  Hope had left the building at this point because I didn’t need her anymore. I wanted Nate. Pure and simple. Wanted him to touch me and make my body ache with need. And it was thanks to him. Because he proved, I could trust him.

  “I need to get these waters,” I said, then turned and headed to the waitress station without waiting for his response. I couldn’t wait to tell him he could have his wicked way with me.

  The whole way to the waitress station I could feel eyes on the back of my neck. I snuck glances here and there and realized that all the single ladies (still a pun) were sizing me up. Taking note of the competition. Looking for any weakness. I turned to look them all in the eyes and let them know I was no pushover. I’d done at least fifty jumping jacks a few short hours ago that proved I could hold my own. When I did, I found Natalie, the Nat, watching me from a booth across the restaurant.

  Effing. Effing. Petunias!

  Nate had told me at the station he’d asked her to leave and stay away. Told her that catching up on their past was a no-go after he’d caught me watching her and realized I knew she still had the hots for him. Said he didn’t want me feeling threatened by someone who meant next to nothing to him.

  She clearly hadn’t listened.

  I rushed back to the women who’d ordered the waters and handed them off. I looked back at Nate, but he wasn’t watching me, so I walked over to her table. Her nose was still swollen where I’d punched her, but she’d covered her bruised eyes with concealer. She’d also changed out of her power suit. She was dressed in a tight-fitting T-shirt and jean shorts, with flip-flops covering her feet. She’d also thrown her hair into a ponytail to complete the look. Having struck out with the Powerful Business Woman look, she changed tactics and was now dressed identically to me. Right down to the flip-flops on my feet.

  I squinted my eyes at her flops to get a better look. They looked brand new. When I scanned her T-shirt, I could tell it was stiff. She hadn’t spent years wearing it until it became a second skin, she’d just bought it. She was a big fat faker. Power red hadn’t worked, so now she was trying to look like me, and that was just sad. So sad there had to be a trope for that, but one escaped me. Plus, I’d lost track of how many tropes I was at. 9?

  Something else hit me as I made my way over. The video Fox 28 had uploaded to YouTube said Dashing Detective and Hot Cop in the intro. That meant she knew about the previous video and that Devin and Nate were in Savannah. Which meant . . . well, I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I think she already knew where Nate and Devin lived. So her little miss “I had no idea you lived here,” routine was a lie. See? Big fat faker.

  I stopped in front of her table and crossed my arms. “Nat, I thought Nate told you to keep your distance.”

  “I know. I’m sorry about that,” she mumbled apologetically. Liar, liar, pants on fire. “But I’d already told my mother about runnin’ into Nate and Devin at the station, and she insisted we meet here so she could say hi to them. I promise, I’m only here as an old friend, not a journalist. Nate said no comment, and I respect that. You don’t have to worry I’m here to get a story.”

  She seemed genuine enough, but even Hitler and Stalin had people who believed them, and I wasn’t one to believe a dictator or a liar, liar, pants on fire.

  I looked back at the bar. Nate was watching, his eyes had narrowed on Natalie. Yep, he was pissed.

  “Um, I’m thinkin’ if you bring your mother here it might not go so well for you. Especially since your station aired that video of the boys carryin’ us into the sheriff’s department. Thanks to that video, all the single women within a three-state area have descended on the bar.”

  Natalie glanced around, her eyes bright as she took in the multitude of skimpy skirts and towering heels. “You’re not afraid or insecure of a little competition, are you?”

  I pffted and scoffed, “Hardly.”

  “All’s fair in love and war, right?”

  My mouth fell open. She’d all but admitted that she’d aired the video. But to what purpose? If she wanted either Nate or Devin for herself, sending hordes of women after them would do what?

  I blinked.

  She was bloody brilliant.

  She couldn’t approach Nate without pissing him off. But sending women after the boys would keep them so busy fending off unwanted attention, they’d barely have time for us. And if we were insecure, like I’d already shown I was at the station, we might break up from the stress, and she could swoop in after and nab Nate for herself.

  Effing. Effing. Petunias!

  She was venturing into Bernice territory with her evil genius.

  “I . . . I licked him first,” I rushed out like a loon. Licked him? I was losing my touch.

  She blinked, then her mouth curled into a secret grin. “Actually, I licked him first when I had my tongue down his throat. I just need to wait you out.”

  She might as well have punched me. Hearing she’d kissed Nate at some point felt like razor blades slicing across my insides, it hurt so much.

  I glanced back at Nate. He was so beautiful, I couldn’t really fault her. He looked like a fallen angel: dark hair, dark eyes, full lips. A body that made grown men envy him. He was perfect, in every particular. But more than that, he was kind. Generous. Humble. Trustworthy. And he was mine, dagnabit.

  I turned back to Natalie. “Finders keepers, losers weepers . . . and you can quote me on that,” I stated sweetly, then turned and walked back across the restaurant until I was standing in front of Nate. He’d made it clear he had no interest in anyone but me, and I believed him. Part of moving forward from my past required me to have faith in the man in front of me. And I did. I wasn’t sure where it came from. But I knew he would never hurt me. We were kindred spirits who’d suffered great pain in our youth. We knew the cost of betrayal and would never do that to someone else.

  He’d followed me with his eyes as I made my way back to him and raised one of his brows when I stopped a foot away. He waited for me to speak, but I didn’t feel like talking. Health department or not, I was staking my claim in front of Natalie and the bar. I reached up and pulled his mouth down to mine. He didn’t resist, just opened his mouth and let me lead, chasing my tongue when it retreated, but he never touched me. And I really wanted him to touch me.

  “I’m not really hungry for food, so I’m headin’ home,” I informed him, caressing his cheek with my thumb. “It’s been a long two days, and I need some sleep. Come by after you’re done here, if you want.”

  He touched me then. His large hand wrapped around my throat, and he tilted my head back until he could see my eyes fully. “I fuckin’ want,” he rumbled low, then he kissed me, and I was pretty sure the health department would have to name a code violation after us for the amount of heat we put off during the exchange. They could call it The Jacobs Inferno Infraction after the fallen angel in front of me. No, wait, maybe Poppycock! Yes!! The Poppycock Infraction since I was the one breaking the rules and molesting the owner behind the bar!

  Ten

  SIMPLE MAN

  AS THE CLOCK TICKED away the minutes until Nate showed up,
I sat at my drafting table with a fresh sheet of paper and a piece of charcoal. My eyes were closed so I could focus on my subject matter. I’d cranked up one of my playlists on Spotify for inspiration. A cover of “Simple Man” by Lynyrd Skynyrd was currently playing on repeat. Shinedown’s rendition stirred my emotional side. The side I needed to capture the essence of the man I was sketching.

  I’d spent the time while I waited for Nate, burning off my nerves and answering texts from the girls. My dirty dishes were shoved into my oven because the dishwasher was full. Every cluttered surface was now hidden somewhere. I was golden as long as he didn’t open a closet door or needed to bake a frozen pizza.

  Halfway into cleaning, I realized I should have asked for the key to his apartment instead. I needed to hire a biohazard team—I’m exaggerating—to clean my apartment before I let him in, but I wasn’t panicking. If we stayed in my living room-slash-library or my bathroom-slash-um-bathroom, we’d be fine. I always kept those rooms pristine. Nothing but the best for my books and my body, I always said.

  The heavy beat of the music pushed my hand to make wide strokes. I was drunk with anticipation, and a bit of apprehension, as the sketch began to take shape. Nate’s expressive eyes stared back at me as I worked on his heavy brow. Eyes were the window to the soul, they said, and right then I agreed. I could stare into Nate’s, even from a distance, and know what he was thinking. He didn’t hide from me. Hadn’t, I realized, from the moment I’d met him. I’d seen his interest in me but ignored it. Because I’d also seen frustration. Like he wanted something he couldn’t have. I’m not sure what changed for him, but I’m glad it did. I’d never have approached him. Never have put myself out there if he hadn’t scaled my walls and punched through them.

  And now I was ready to take it further.

  The Ice Princess was dead. It only took a day of Nate crowding me, showing me what a real man was for me to relax. I trusted him with everything I am, and that trust thawed whatever part of me that had frozen in the past.

  I moved the chalk from his brow to where his mouth should be and began shaping the lips. His were full, sensual, the Cupid’s bow masculine and less pronounced than on a woman. I couldn’t help but bite my own lip as I used a finger to soften the bottom edge of his mouth. I’d replayed our last kiss over and over in my head, until the memory was so ingrained I’d be able to recall it when I was ninety. And I was waiting for those lips to break down the last barrier I’d held between us.

  I leaned in and blew chalk dust from the paper then studied my work. Charcoal wasn’t my strength as an artist, but the subject matter was so inspiring my hands had brought him to life in perfect detail.

  I studied him a moment longer as I waited for the man who inspired the drawing. Warm fingers moved the hair off my shoulder as I sat there admiring my work. I would have jumped if I hadn’t seen my door open in my periphery and Nate’s large frame move through it. I hadn’t heard him knock because of the music.

  “Simple Man” kept pulsing through my speakers as I bent my neck to the side. It was a simple invitation to my simple man to take the next step. I was more than ready. The whole day had been a slow seduction. The constant touches and kisses. His body pressed to mine in the early morning hours. He’d spent the whole day teaching me to react to him so I’d relax. He was a masterful teacher.

  Heat hit my skin moments later, soft lips caressed with just a hint of tongue until my body began to shake with need. I wanted his hands to explore, to prove to me no ice remained, but he kept them to himself. I arched my back when sharp teeth grazed my pulse point. My blood turned to liquid heat, racing through my body at the speed of light, burning me from the inside out. But he still didn’t touch me.

  “Keep your door locked when I’m not here,” he whispered, then raised his mouth from my ear and froze. I glanced up. He was staring my drawing.

  I looked back at it to see what he saw. His face was brooding and dark. Like the fallen angel he reminded me of. He looked down at me and I read awe and heat in his eyes. My heart skipped when his nose flared, his expression melting into darker lust. I wanted him to look at me like that while he was inside of me, so I took matters into my own hands.

  Spinning my drafting chair on its wheels, I surprised Nate when I stood and reversed our positions. I straddled his lap before he recovered and buried my hands in his hair, slamming my mouth over his.

  “Touch me,” I moaned into his mouth, biting and licking his lips.

  Without hesitation his hands came up and gripped my bottom, grinding me against his erection. I’d changed into thin sleeping shorts and matching tank. My bra was gone and so were my panties, so the barrier between our bodies was next to nothing. And it was still too much. I rubbed my breasts against his chest, needing the friction. I wanted to replace all the dirty memories with fire and sweat. Erase them with strong hands that caressed me with passion instead of hate. I needed it all gone; every last bit of filth that had been left behind.

  “Make me forget,” I choked out. “Make me feel beautiful.”

  Nate’s hold on me tightened briefly then he stood with the grace of a cat. Keeping my legs wrapped around his waist, he stalked across the room and threw open my bedroom door. I’d attached my mouth to his neck to taste his skin, to breathe in his unique scent of musk and beer. It was addictive. I wanted to bathe in it until it saturated my skin, so I’d always have him with me.

  He put a knee to the bed and then collapsed, rolling to his back so I was sitting on his stomach. Then he reached for my tank and peeled it off my body. My first thought was to cover my breasts. It was ingrained in me to hide, but Nate grabbed my wrists and stilled them.

  “Don’t hide from me.”

  I swallowed hard then dropped my arms to my sides. His darkened gaze burned a trail across my skin. He lifted his hand and drew an imaginary line whisper-soft down the center of my chest.

  “Your skin’s like fuckin’ satin,” he whispered, amazed. Then he curled his hand around my neck and knifed up until our mouths almost touched. “You on the pill?” I nodded and licked my lips. He watched with hunger growling, “I’m gonna fuck you hard. Make you scream with release; then I’ll do it all over again until the only thing you feel is wanted. Fuckin’ beautiful.”

  My breath hitched with lust and surprise, and then he was on me. My back hit the bed and arched when Nate’s tongue flicked a nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth. A quiver rushed to my core, igniting an ember. Stoking a deep burn beneath my skin that seemed to rush with pinpoint accuracy between my legs. From just his mouth, the beginning of an orgasm rippled gently through me. I’d never achieved release without a vibrator or my hand, but I wouldn’t need help tonight. Nate sucked deep on my nipple and the sensation had a direct pathway to my clit, causing a soft release that left me wanting more.

  When I whimpered in surprise, he released my breast and moved between my legs. He placed his mouth over the core of me and blew hot breath through the fabric of my shorts until my hips bucked. He removed my shorts, and the whole act was a lesson in seduction. They came off slowly, his mouth teasing a path down my legs until they fell to the floor. But the patient lover disappeared once he took in my naked body. He pulled the shirt from his back, removed his jeans, then fell between my legs and buried his face in my heat. His hands curled beneath my bottom to anchor me in place, while I tried to remember how to breathe. The second his tongue tasted me, he grunted low in his throat. Like it brought him as much pleasure as it did me. Fingers joined his mouth next and he worked me with both to spectacular results.

  I could feel an orgasm rising, waiting for me to set it free, but I wanted to experience it with Nate buried inside me. Wanted to know what if felt like to explode while feeling full.

  “I need you,” I gasped. “Please, Nate.”

  He licked me twice more then rose and flipped me to my stomach. I’d barely lifted my head before the head of his shaft pushed against my entrance.

  “There’s no goin’ bac
k,” he gritted out, his breathing deep and labored. “If I claim this body, I won’t give it back. You’re fuckin’ mine.”

  I nodded that I understood. “Please,” I begged. I wanted to be his completely.

  I’d barely released the word before he pushed into me an inch at a time, hissing when he finally seated himself to the root.

  “Don’t,” he ground out when I tried to move. I was full. So full. Stretched to the limit. He was teasing nerve endings I didn’t know existed with his size. I had to move.

  He breathed through a spasm wracking his body, then he wrapped an arm under my breasts and pulled my back to his front.

  “Tight. Fuckin’ tight. Jesus,” he murmured huskily, then pulled out and slammed back in. My head crashed back against his shoulder and my eyes rolled back at the rapturous sensations flooding my body. I never knew. Never knew the beauty of coupling with someone you wanted so desperately, you hungered for it. It was magnificent. It stole my speech, but not my tears. I couldn’t have held them back if I tried. Being with Nate like this was beautiful. It washed away my past with every stroke. Burned through me until no ice remained. Only peace that I was right where I belonged.

  I didn’t sob as Nate drove into me harder. With each thrust, I smiled before whimpering with need, tears falling gently down my cheeks in relief.

  Nate put pressure on the side of my face and turned it, ready to capture my mouth. I smiled at him when I looked up. He paused at the sight, and traced the tears running down my face with his eyes.

  “I’m happy. I’m not frozen with fear,” I whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I feel . . . beautiful. Please don’t stop.”

  Pain seemed to cloud his eyes, then he slammed his lips over mine. His tongue possessed my mouth, stoking an already brilliant flame, then his hand moved between my legs and he began rolling my clit.

  Between his frantic pace, the heat of his mouth, and the precision with which he worked my core, I came loudly, moaning deep in my throat as my atoms felt like they split in two then reformed behind my eyelids in a burst of fantastical color.