by E. L. Todd
“So, was your dad happy to get rid of you?” Henry asked Nancy.
Nancy tucked her hair behind her ear and avoided his gaze. “He was fine with it.”
“I’ve never been to your place,” Henry said. “Where’d you used to live?”
“Uh, over by the university.”
“Cool,” Henry said.
Thatcher glanced at her and watched her expression. He didn’t comment on the topic but she knew what he was thinking. Why didn’t she tell her friends the truth about her life? He didn’t understand it but he didn’t pressure her. Everything was simple with Thatcher, uncomplicated. Since they could communicate silently, there was never any misinterpretation. It was like they could read each other’s minds. She never had a connection with someone like that, not even Sydney or Henry.
After everyone left, Thatcher helped her clean the dishes and put the games away. He stared at her while she stacked the boxes in a corner.
“Everything okay with Derek?” he asked.
She nodded. “We’re friends.”
“I really like him.”
“I thought you hated him?”
“I hate him as your boyfriend. As a friend, he’s a good guy.”
“Thank you for making the effort to get along with him.”
He shrugged. “If he’s your friend, he’s my friend too. I’m just surprised he wasn’t more upset when he saw you kiss me, which I enjoyed immensely, by the way.”
She blushed. “He accused me of cheating on you but I assured him nothing happened. But I did admit that I had feelings for you.”
“Did you tell him you love me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s too soon.”
“What’s too soon?”
“I wanted my friends to accept you first. If I said I was already in love with you they would assume I was rushing into this, thinking with my heart and not my mind.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” he asked.
“It’s just—not smart.”
“Being in love is about being illogical. You don’t think, you just know.”
“Which is why people get hurt.”
“Any relationship you ever have with anyone, a lover, a parent, a friend, or even a pet ends in heartache in some way. There’s no point in thinking about the future sorrow. Live in the moment, Nancy.”
“After having a failed relationship, I’m surprised you would say that.”
“What failed relationship?” Thatcher asked.
“Your fiancé.”
“Our relationship didn’t fail,” he said as he leaned against the wall.
“You broke up, right? That means it wasn’t successful.”
“I guess you and I have different definitions of the word successful.”
She stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate.
“There’s no such thing as a successful relationship from the way you’re describing it. It dies by death or break-up. I believe a successful relationship is defined by the moment you shared in time, the moment when you loved someone with your whole heart and they loved you in return. Maybe that love died, things didn’t work out, but the time you had together is forever. Even though Grace left me, I knew she loved me.”
Nancy didn’t know what to say to that.
Thatcher stared at her for a moment before he came beside her on the couch. “So, if you love me, Nancy, which I know you do, you should be honest about it, enjoy this moment with me. Because you know I love you too.”
“We’ve only known each for a month.”
“I don’t see the relevance. I was with Grace for six months before we said the L word. She and I got engaged then went our separate ways.”
“How many relationships have you been in?”
“Four.”
“Serious relationships?”
He shrugged. “For the most part. They lasted for about a year and were monogamous.”
“So you’ve slept with four women?”
“Yes.”
She waited for him to ask the same question but he didn’t.
“My point is, I’ve been in meaningful relationships and I’ve never felt this way about anybody. I don’t need to wait a year before I finally admit what I feel. I’m not wasting time. After my dad died, I realized I could die at any moment when I’m surfing, driving, walking, even painting. I’m going to enjoy every moment I have on this earth. And right now, I want to enjoy that time with you.”
She grabbed his hand and felt the lines of his palm. His skin was always warm and smooth. His fingertips had light callouses from the wooden brushes he would hold. She could see distant paint stains forever ingrained in his skin.
“Can I ask you something personal?” he asked.
“Of course, Thatcher.”
“Have you ever been in a serious relationship?”
She stared at his hands. “No.”
“And what was Derek?”
“A fiasco.”
He laughed lightly.
“Why?”
“It helps me understand why you are the way you are.”
She waited for him to ask about the number of guys she slept with him but he never did.
“So, the choice is yours. You can pretend that we’re taking this slow or you can just dive in and stop caring about what other people think.”
“You’re right.”
“I’m wise beyond my years.”
“You sound like an old man,” she teased.
“Thank you.”
“I like old men. They are cute.”
“Ooh. Even better.”
She laughed then stared into his face, seeing the blue eyes she loved so much. “Thatcher, I love you.” She felt her skin prickle when she said those words. It was the first time she directly said it. In every other instance it was implied or assumed. She never told anyone she loved them before, not like that.
He pressed his face close to hers. “Nancy, I love you with my whole heart.”
His words elicited a deep emotion she couldn’t control. She felt the moisture build up behind her eyes. She blinked it back, not letting them surface.
He grabbed her face and directed her look on him. “Let them fall.”
She sniffed and a tear rolled down.
Thatcher leaned in and kissed her tears away, running his fingers through her hair. “Maybe you never felt loved by your mother, your father, Derek, but you will definitely feel loved by me.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“I know the feeling.”
“I never thought I would find a love like this.”
“A love like what?”
“A connection that’s unbreakable, a friendship that’s more powerful than any other, a love that’s equally passionate, trusting, and physical. When I see Sydney and Coen, I envy them. When I see the way Henry looks at Ren, I feel alone and sad. But now…I have that. I have even more than that. I—”
“Have a soul mate.”
She pulled away and pressed her forehead against his. “Yeah.”
“I know.”
He stared into her eyes for a long time, his fingers still gliding through her hair. Her tears stopped falling when she looked at him, seeing the same emotion she felt reflected in his eyes. Eye contact with anyone was difficult for her. She always averted her gaze, frightened of the intimacy, but with Thatcher she didn’t feel uncomfortable. She felt vulnerable and exposed, but it didn’t bother her. She had nothing to hide from him, and even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. He saw everything.
“Can I sleep with you tonight?” he whispered.
“I always want you to sleep with me.”
“My place or here?”
“Since I’m working tomorrow, can we stay over there?”
“Yeah.”
She left his side then gathered her things while he waited by the door. After she locked the apartment,
they took their separate cars and returned to his house. She liked her apartment, but she loved his house. The dark hardwood floors contrasted against the while walls. The art he had on the walls and the shelves made her feel calm and comfortable. It had a smell to it, slightly masculine but not overbearing. It was a safe haven to her.
When they came inside, they both went into the bedroom. She placed her bag on the floor then pulled out a t-shirt.
He handed her his clothes. “I like it when you wear my things.”
She grabbed the shirt and smelled it. “I do too.”
He smiled. “You like the way I smell?”
“I love it.”
“I’ll give you a minute.” He turned and left the bedroom. She heard him doing the dishes in the kitchen while she lied in bed. His bedroom was large, as big as his living room. He had a walk-in closet, a few dressers, a full length mirror, and a king-sized bed.
When he returned, he was wearing his running shorts and t-shirt. When she realized they were both fully clothed, she was confused. Since they were officially together, she was hoping for some intimacy. She knew she wanted it from the beginning.
He lied beside her then draped his arm around her, looking into her eyes. “So, the contract is void, right?”
Nancy’s heart hammered in her chest. She couldn’t speak, only nod.
He cupped her face then rubbed his nose against hers. Knowing his lips were just an inch away made her muscles tense with anticipation. When she kissed him, it was quick and gentle, not sensual like she wanted. Nancy wanted to feel his tongue, taste his lips.
Thatcher brushed his lips past hers then moved on top of her. Nancy immediately cupped his face, her fingers reaching into his hair. She waited for him to kiss her but he didn’t. Instead, he brought his lips to her neck and kissed her gently, his tongue sliding over the skin. She let out a loud moan as soon as they touched. A fire seared her skin and she gripped his shoulders.
His lips moved down to her shoulder, pulling the neckline down so he could access her skin. Nancy’s fingers dug into his hair, feeling the soft stands. Thatcher moved further down then pulled up her shirt, revealing her stomach. He kissed the skin over her ribs then moved down the center, sticking his tongue in her belly button. She never felt more aroused with such juvenile foreplay, but Thatcher made her skin blaze in an inferno with every touch.
Thatcher grabbed the shorts then pulled them off, leaving her in her black thong. Nancy felt the adrenaline kick in as he stripped her. She wasn’t shy or embarrassed about being half naked in front of him.
Thatcher leaned down and kissed the skin of her inner thighs, making her sigh loudly. His lips inched further up to the apex of her thighs and she waited in anticipation to feel his tongue. He moved past it then kissed her hips, his hands sliding up and down her legs. She felt the moisture pool between her legs the longer he kissed her. Finally, he moved back up to her face then rubbed his nose against hers.
“And the grand finale,” he whispered. He cupped her face then pressed his lips against hers, making her body convulse with feelings and emotions. The movement of his lips was gentle, loving, and when his tongue moved inside her mouth, it swirled around hers slowly, making her moan into his mouth. It was the best kiss she ever had, so precise and different. His touch was sensual, loving, and sexual. Her fingers trailed down his shoulders and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. When she rubbed against him, she felt the erection press against her thigh. She moaned again when she realized how big she was, much bigger than Derek.
Their kisses became more passionate. Her hands ran all over his body, trying to pull him closer than he already was. There was no distance between them but it wasn’t enough. Thatcher ran his hands up her shirt, squeezing her waist as he held himself over her, loving her with his mouth. Nancy had never been kissed like that. It felt so good that she couldn’t stop shaking.
Nancy grabbed the end of his shirt and pulled it from his body. Thatcher broke their kiss for a second while she got it off. He went back to kissing her, loving her with his lips. Feeling his naked chest made her feel more aroused. Every inch of his torso was chiseled and smooth. He didn’t have an ounce of fat, just muscle. His skin was like a heater, warming her like she was right next to the vent.
Nancy felt her mind slip away as his tongue darted into her mouth. Her hands moved down his back, feeling the flank of muscles that protected his spine, then ran her fingers down his front, still kissing him the entire way. She felt the sensation start in her stomach then move to the apex of her thighs. She couldn’t believe it was happening, but she was so hot, so charged for him, that it was coming to pass.
“You’re going to make me come this way,” she said into his mouth.
He rubbed his nose against hers then continued kissing her, his body dominating hers with his size and strength. Nancy reached down and moved her fingers into her panties, rubbing her clitoris while he pleasured her mouth. She wasn’t embarrassed for doing it. She held onto his back while the feeling rocked through her, rubbing herself as she continued to kiss him.
“Thatcher…”
He pressed his forehead against hers and watched her come.
“Oh…god.”
She continued rubbing herself until the sensation faded into her body. Her clitoris was still tender from the explosion, and her underwear was soaked. She pulled her hand away and returned to touching him. It was the most intense orgasm she ever had. Thatcher hadn’t done anything, just kissed her, and she crumbled into pieces.
Thatcher kissed her passionately while he held himself over her. He placed one hand inside of his sweats then started to rub himself while he kissed her. Knowing what he was doing made her hot again.
“That’s so hot,” she said into his mouth.
He moaned and continued to kiss her. He started to breathe into her mouth so she opened her eyes and watched him. His mouth gaped open and his hand moved faster in his sweats, coming into his boxers. “Nancy…”
He finished then pulled his hand out, still resting his forehead against hers.
She ran her fingers through his hair then kissed him on the forehead. “I’ve never had an orgasm like that.”
“Neither have I,” he whispered.
“You probably want to change, huh?”
He smiled. “I’m a little uncomfortable.” He left the bed then grabbed some clean briefs from his drawer. He turned around and pulled down his sweats and briefs. She got a good view of his ass, which was thick with muscles. Without thinking, she licked her lips. He pulled his new briefs on then returned to the bed. She was glad he left the sweats off.
He climbed back on top of her and leaned over her. “Can I keep kissing you?”
“I was hoping you would.”
Thatcher grabbed her face and kissed her again, making love to her with his lips. Hours went by but neither one of them stopped. Nancy hadn’t kissed someone for hours since she was in high school but she loved doing it with him. It wasn’t just affectionate or sexual. It was a connection they felt. When they finally stopped and went to sleep, it was some unearthly hour. Neither one complained about the lack of sleep. They wished they could keep going.
21
The alarm went off and made Nancy groan. Thatcher slammed his hand down and disabled it, cutting off the screeching sound. He rolled out of bed then got dressed.
Nancy looked at the time with squinted eyes. It was six in the morning. “What are you doing?”
He turned back to her then kissed her forehead. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be back before you wake up.”
She grabbed onto him, pulling him back. “Stay.”
He sighed while he looked at her, almost letting her pull him. “I need to surf. I’ve abandoned it lately.”
“You surf this early?”
“I have work to do.” He kissed her again. “Go back to sleep, Nancy.”
“Can I come?”
“You want to?”
“I want to watch
.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
He stood then pulled his wetsuit on, keeping his briefs on. She was disappointed she didn’t get a peek. He brought a change of clothes then went downstairs while she followed behind him. Thatcher held the passenger door open for her, getting her inside before he walked to the driver’s seat.
Instead of sitting by the window, she moved to the center spot and leaned against him, her hand around his waist. He smiled at her then draped his arm over her shoulder. They didn’t speak on the drive, and she closed her eyes, her mind wandering in a semi-dream state. She felt his lips brush her forehead every few minutes and she sighed happily at the touch. She loved the way Thatcher made her feel, like she was important, that she was loved.
When he reached the beach, he grabbed his board from the back and walked across the sand, holding her hand. She found a spot close to the sea and sat down, wearing his sweatshirt.
“Do you normally surf alone?” she asked.
“Other surfers are always around.”
“It’s still dangerous.”
“I’m not scared, Nancy.”
She dropped the conversation. “Have a good time.”
“I’ll see you soon.” He moved into the water and started to paddle out. He rode the waves of the sea, enjoying the surf and the water. He fell a few times but he was very good at it, almost as good as Derek. She realized he must have been surfing his whole life. She wished he was shirtless so she could watch his body. He stayed on the water for an hour and she never grew tired of watching him. He had the same expression that he did when he painted. She listened to the sound of the waves as she watched him.
“Hey.”
She looked up. “What are you doing here?”
“I surf. Remember?” Derek asked with a smile.
“Oh yeah. Sorry.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Watching Thatcher.”
He looked into the waves. “He’s pretty good.”
“I know.”
“I’m glad he doesn’t want to go pro. I would have some competition.”
