Love in Due Time

by Smartypants Romance

  “Like you getting with Jackson. Shithead made it sound like that for a minute there.”

  Naomi chuckles harder. “Be serious, Nathan. He’s too young for me.”

  “Well, some guys go for older women. Obviously, you have a track record of this,” I suggest, implying Dwight’s youthful obsession. “And the way Jackshit was looking at you—”

  “That’s just Jackson.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Are you jealous?” she asks, incredulous.

  “Damn straight I am. You’re my girl, Naomi, and I don’t want anyone thinking they can have you.” I sound like a caveman calling her mine and girl and making demands, but dammit I don’t want her with someone else.

  “Does this mean we’re going steady?” She teases.

  “This means we have one more date before decision time and I need to take you somewhere to show you why you should consider more dates after number three.” My mouth presses into hers, passing all my energy into her lips beneath mine. Her hand cups the back of my head, combing at the hairs on the nape of my neck and my spine shivers with the tender touch. The heat of her lips matches mine, and if I don’t get us out of this parking lot in another half-second, I’m going to have her on her back in the front seat.

  Then I decide to kiss her a little longer and remember that this was how all the trouble for me started in the first place. One more kiss.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dewey Decimal Classification: 152.5 Physiological Drives

  [Naomi]

  “I don’t want to take you home yet,” he says breaking off the vanilla swirl melting kiss.

  “We could go to my house and you could come inside for a bit?” The invitation rushes out before I realize what I’m saying, although I shouldn’t be surprised. Before Nathan knocked on my door earlier tonight, I was a hot mess imagining him without clothing. He is the horned god to my inner goddess, which might be another reason I’ve held out so long with other men. I’ve been waiting for him.

  Nathan starts his truck engine and my mind roars to life. I don’t have coffee. I don’t even have alcohol other than a bottle of wine which I am saving for Samhain. I don’t know what I’m going to do with him, but I also know I can’t deny myself any longer. Despite us not talking while he drives, I hear his voice in my head. The seductive timbre even when he isn’t trying to seduce me. His laughter, hearty and rich, when he thinks I’m being funny and I’m actually serious. His lips still linger on mine after our kiss—kisses telling me he wants me. Me. And when he puts his hands on me—strong, warm, comforting—and brings me pleasure I’ve never known, I don’t want anyone but him.

  He wants to know me, and it’s been so long since someone tried to understand who I am, how I feel. I’m practically a virgin, and I know that makes me different, unique even. If I can’t convince myself to take the next step with Nathan, I’ll be a forty-year-old-virgin cliché. However, Nathan is lowering my guard and I’m so close to rewriting my story.

  Everything sounds louder in my ears as we pull into my driveway. The gravel under the tires. The evening rustle of leaves. The racing of my heart. Suddenly, I’m not as confident as I was on the ride home. What am I doing? I exhale as my fingers curl around the passenger door handle.

  Freeing the inner goddess, my inner goddess whispers. You can do this.

  I nearly jump out of my skin when knuckles rap on my closed window.

  “Coming out?” Nathan teases and I nervously chuckle as he opens the door for me. I lead him up the flagstone path to my front door. Shaky fingers place my key in the lock and twist, and I press open the door. Stepping forward, I release another deep breath.

  “Come inside?” I question when I turn to face Nathan, and a cautious grin graces his face. He steps over the threshold and closes the door himself. With the soft click of the latch, my heart realizes, This is it.

  Nathan looks like a giant in my small-scale home and I watch him remove his leather jacket as I unbutton my coat. Hanging it on a peg near the door, I offer to take his. When I hang it next to mine, I take a moment to stare at the combination of our outerwear.

  The wait is over. Did he mean what he said that night after the Canyon?

  When I turn around, Nathan has helped himself to the couch.

  “Would you like something to drink? I don’t have any beer. But I—”

  “Come sit next to me,” Nathan pats the cushion beside him. Sitting there would be a very bad idea, but the goddess inside wants comfort, and Nathan’s nearness provides it. I step around him and settle on the seat, which is not made for such a big man. He sits forward, elbows on his knees, and I awkwardly press at the skirt of my dress. The room feels too small with him in it. The lights are too bright. I like all my lamps. As I told him, it makes me feel welcome when I come home at night, but right now it’s too much.

  “Can you give me a second?” I ask, nerves catching up to me as I stand and quickly excuse myself. I walk into my kitchen and fall against the wall hiding me from his sight. My head tips back on the plaster.

  I have no idea what I’m doing with a man like him.

  His intense eyes. His thick hands. His dimpled smile.

  I wonder once again what he’d look like naked as the man he is now.

  The thought makes me wonder what I’m doing hiding out in my kitchen.

  I press off the wall, shake out my fingers, and then stroke down my braid. I circle back into the living room, and the first thing I notice is most of the lights have been turned off. The space suddenly has a subtle romantic ambiance. Then I notice Nathan holding a video case in his hand as he stands in the middle of the room.

  “What’s this?” he asks.

  Vilma’s Discovery Videos.

  I don’t need to see the cover to know which one he reads. A pink petalled flower and two fingers making a V around the floral photograph. This one is Vilma’s Vagina Video.

  “It’s a DVD,” I state the obvious, an anxious chuckle in my throat as my fingers twist together and my face heats. I stand across the room from him. Sweet Goddess, he’s going to think I’m a pervert.

  “Looks like a VDV, actually,” he mutters. “Or better yet a VVV.” I shouldn’t laugh, but a nervous giggle escapes. He’s trying to add humor to an awkward situation and his face lifts to look at me. “A triple V?” he questions, raising a brow.

  I step forward and reach out for the video, but he lifts it above his head. As if I’m not already embarrassed enough, I jump up like I can rip it from his fingers, but I land on his foot, slipping off his boot. As my hands reach for anything to catch me from completely tumbling to the floor, they slide down his cotton-covered chest and my wrist hits his belt. I curl my fingers inward and latch onto his waistband. He wraps one strong arm around my back and holds me pressed to his abdomen. I bury my forehead against his firm upper chest as he begins to read the box aloud.

  “Discover how you are the center of your own universe. Self-guided video instruction on the art of finding pleasure within yourself.” Even though my fingers are tucked into the edge of his pants, I don’t release him, afraid I’ll melt on the spot. I’m going to expire from embarrassment, even though Vilma professes there is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s personal discovery and pleasure seeking.

  “Do you use these often?” His voice deepens, ashen and rough.

  Sometimes.

  Too often lately.

  Because of him.

  “Diane Donner-Sylvester gave them to me.”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind.” It’s too complicated to explain Diane’s story.

  “Hey,” he murmurs, slipping his fingers along the length of my braid to curl around his fist. He gently tugs my head back, so I’m forced to look up at him. “Tell me about this.”

  My face heats again even though I didn’t think I could get any redder. I’m certain I’m more than cherry red, which has me thinking about cherries as a body part and not a fruity delicacy.

  Could
the earth just open and swallow me whole, please?

  “I … I mentioned how I haven’t … you know…but I don’t deny … I mean, obviously, I’ve done things … to myself.”

  “So alone is good. With a man equals disaster.” Nathan’s voice remains light, teasing, controlled. I remind myself he wants to understand me. He blinks. I swallow. “You still haven’t told me what the disaster was?”

  Mentioning my brother would end this night.

  I tug back to release his hold on my neck, but his fingers tighten, giving me a subtle yank. I should find it forceful, domineering, threatening, but I don’t. I like it. My eyes close and I lick my lips. When I open again, the gray of Nathan’s eyes has shifted to fiery steel.

  “Naomi Winters, when you’re giving me those eyes, I find I have discovery plans of my own.” I close my eyes but Nathan squeezes at my neck. “Don’t hide from me, Nae.” His voice dips as it softens.

  “I think we should test the theory, though, about disaster and being with me.”

  His fingers release the braid, stroking down it until he reaches the tip which he strategically places over my breast. Then his mouth collides with mine, drinking in my embarrassment. His eager lips make me forget my fears. This is Nathan. We stand for several seconds, lips tracing lips, tongue finding tongue, until my body shifts. I pull back in hopes of leading him to the couch when I realize I can’t move my wrist.

  My garnet spessartine bracelet is caught on something.

  “I’m stuck on you,” I mutter, mortified at another jewelry malfunction, but Nathan chuckles, the deep sound near my ear.

  “I’m stuck on you too, sweetheart.” He reaches for the bracelet and rubs his fingers over the beads. “I noticed this the other night. Is it something special?”

  Sexual courage? “Our bodies have something called the seven chakras. It’s popular in yoga. These beads, crystals actually, are known to help open the sacral chakra.”

  Nathan swallows as if he knows what I’m saying but then he asks, “What’s a sacral chakra?”

  “Sexual health.” My voice is so low I’m not certain Nathan hears me but then he tugs at my wrist and the bracelet explodes, sending beads raining to the floor. I’m not as upset about the broken bracelet as I’m surprised at the fireworks of orange crystals around us.

  “Now there’s sacral chakra all around us.” He isn’t exactly correct, but my heart races in my chest at the innuendo. My sexual energy is definitely open to him. He pauses a moment, rubbing his other hand up and down my spine in a soothing motion. “Want me to clean that up?”

  “Not yet,” I say and step away from him to guide him to the couch. I expect him to sit next to me but instead, he kneels before me, pushing a small table out of his way.

  He separates my legs with the bulk of his body, his forearms on either side of my thighs while his hands wrap around my hips.

  “Let me discover you, Naomi.” He leans forward for a soft kiss, telling me he wants me with his lips, but also telling me I’m safe with him. He’ll take care of me. At least, he’ll take care of my sacral chakra. He slips to the corner of my mouth and then lowers to my jaw before skimming down my neck for my shoulder. Right there, I think. If he nips me right near my clavicle, I’m going to explode for him like my bracelet. Nathan does not disappoint. The tender bite releases a groan-gasp and my legs tremble.

  His hands make quick work of pressing the hem of my dress upward and slipping his warm palms under the material, exposing more leg to him. More skin.

  “You’re not wearing tights tonight?” He mutters as we both watch his hands massage my outer thighs, curling around the muscle until his thumbs press on the inner part and force me to spread open a little wider. “Did you do that on purpose?”

  My face heats, mortified at being caught. Was it wishful thinking that he’d touch me again if I didn’t wear them? Unconscious dressing? I think not. My inner goddess might have had a plan. A hope. A wish.

  Nathan pulls back, his eyes searching my face. “You can stop me at any point, but when you give me those eyes …” His voice settles in a deep appreciative rumble.

  “Lick-me … eyes.” My throat clogs, separating the words when I swallow the nervous lump in my throat. A wicked grin curls Nathan’s lips as his fingers finish their upward journey. His eyes watch mine as his knuckles rub against the cotton over my core.

  What is he doing to me? My heart races. My sex pulses, and yet I know the answer. He’s going to touch me in a way I haven’t been touched. Discover me in a way I can’t discover alone. Spread as I am, I can’t shy away from him unless I tell him to stop.

  I won’t stop him.

  “You doing okay?” he asks, heat in his question. When I nod, his fingers reach for the side of my underwear and he tugs, drawing the material down my thighs, slipping over my knees to my ankles. I’m still wearing my boots, and he stretches the cotton to be free of me.

  Am I really going to let him do this?

  He lowers a little and rubs his nose inside my leg, pushing my dress upward.

  “You smell delicious. Honey and almonds.” His voice holds its own drip of honey. He’s naughty and sweet mixed together. A decadent treat. “Wonder if you taste as sweet.”

  Is he going to …

  His face goes between my thighs and he inhales once more, his nose dragging across my core. My dress is bunched up to my hips and he draws back. His eyes focus on mine once again, judging my comfort with this position, asking my permission. He leans up to kiss my lips one more time before lowering between my thighs.

  Sweet Goddess.

  The air whooshes out of me as his tongue licks my seam. My hips buck up at the tender touch, but his hands quickly pin me to the cushions.

  “Relax, sweetheart. Your videos can’t teach you this kind of pleasure. Please allow me to be the instructor.”

  Mother Earth, I volunteer as a student experiment. Words escape me. I nod because I can’t say anything else. He’s correct. The pleasure he’s offering is something I haven’t experienced in a long, long, long time … and I want it.

  A lick. A lap. A kiss. I’ve never felt anything like this, and I melt under his tongue. My fingers hesitantly come to his hair and I comb the short locks with my fingertips. He moans against me, the vibration traveling upward and inward, and my head falls back. Nothing I have ever done by myself compares to this pleasure. No video could teach me such things.

  “Nathan,” I whimper, recognizing the flutters in my lower belly and yet not altogether familiar with the growing sensation. Like a swirling tornado, twisting and twirling, collecting fragments of me and tugging them together until I tingle from my toes to the tip of my head, sensation whirls through me, until I groan his name in wonder. I fold forward, releasing the cyclone of all orgasms.

  My hands clamp over his ears, willing him to stop but he continues, sucking every last spiraling drop from me before slowly pulling back and kissing my inner thigh. I collapse back to the cushions as he rests on his ankles. Slowly, my eyelids lift, and I find him watching me.

  “I’m so stuck on you,” he whispers, a slow, satisfied smile curling his wet lips.

  “What does that even mean?” I ask.

  “For now, it’s my way of saying how I feel about you. I’m stuck and I don’t want to be unstuck.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dewey Decimal Classification: 612.4 Secretions, Excretions, Related Functions

  [Nathan]

  If I thought her lick-me eyes were intriguing, nothing can explain the look she gives me after my explanation of being stuck. She leans forward and within seconds, I’m on my back.

  “Oof.” The air whooshes out of me as she falls over me and my spine hits the thin rug-covered floor.

  “Did I hurt you?” Her voice is both eager and concerned as she pops up, pressing on my chest with an elbow that’s digging into my sternum.

  “No, but whatcha doing, sweetheart?” I ask, straining as her thin elbow digs into the hard bone in the
center of my chest. She slips her arm off me and settles each hand on either side of my biceps, pressing herself upward. It takes effort to raise my hand and stroke up her lower back, and I need a second to catch my breath. This is what she does to me. She knocks the wind out of me, taking my breath away.

  With that innocent, anxious look she’s giving me.

  With that intricate, sexy braid dangling down to tease me.

  With the collection of orange beads under my back.

  I shift a little, hoping to release a few of them from the pressure points below my shoulder blade and beneath my lower spine.

  “Sweet Goddess,” she mutters. “I’m so bad at this.” She attempts to sit up but my hand on her back keeps her in place. Her legs fall between mine. I don’t know what her plan is, but I don’t want her to move yet.

  “Where you going?” I ask, a weak chuckle as my breath slowly comes back to me. Then I choke as air whirls out of me again. She’s at my belt buckle, hastily unbuckling. My head lifts and her fingers shake as she lowers my zipper. “Goddess?” This lifts her head but does not stop her intention. Her fingers dip into the sides of my jeans.

  “Please don’t deny me, Nathan.” She’s practically begging me, her eyes filling with a question, as if I’d tell her no. She can have anything she wants from me. My body. My heart. My soul.

  When she tugs at the sides of my pants, I lift my hips, aiding her. Still, I worry she’s moving too fast.

  “Naomi, whatcha doing?” I ask again, concerned for her while my dick curses me to shut up.

  “I want to do this. I want to discover you, too. You make me bold, even though I know I’ll be bad.”

  Sweet goddess or any other deity that wants to listen, when she says those words to me, she has no idea. I want her to be bad with me in a million ways although I know she’s too good. Inside, she’s still so innocent, but when her fingers wrap about my stiff shaft and then the tip of her hesitant tongue swipes over the smooth head, I fall back, surrendering to her. She can be as bad as she wants with me.