I’m lost in the memory, forgetting the moment at hand until she repeats: “Who is Charlese?”
She tries to pull back from me, but she’s … stuck.
“My hair,” she whispers. The wild tresses swirled as we stumbled, and a strand caught on the teeth of my leather jacket. I tug her closer to me.
“You’re stuck on me,” I tease, but her eyes narrow. I hang my head again. “She’s someone I used to know.”
“Is that how you referred to me?”
“Naomi,” I groan. How do I explain I never felt that way about her? She wasn’t someone I used to know but someone I wanted to know more about, someone I wanted to see again. I’m going to strangle Herbie if he just ruined my chances to show her how I feel tonight.
“She was someone I was seeing before you.” I don’t want to mention the night I first saw Naomi at the Piggly Wiggly. Is the universe trying to fuck with me right now? “We’re over.”
“Did you bring her here, too?”
Aw shit. If I say yes, it might dampen how special I want tonight to be, but I don’t want secrets. “Just for drinks and hanging out.”
I saw Charlese a few weeks ago at this very bar when I came to see Todd. She made it obvious she wanted to resume our relationship, but I knew I no longer wanted just anyone. I wanted the one.
“Naomi, you’re my only one. You get me? My. Only. One.” I say, holding her chin with her hair still twisted in my zipper.
“Just kiss her already,” mutters a deep male voice behind me. Herbie. This bar is too nosy.
“Come here.” I disentangle her hair, smoothing the locks down with the others near her breast. My fingers twitch to touch her there but not in front of an audience. Instead, I slip my arms around her, and then my mouth slides over hers. I’m not arguing with her over another woman. Not tonight, not ever, and I don’t need her hint of jealousy, although it’s a fucking turn-on. Still standing in the middle of the bar, our lips are fighting the fight. Tongue. Teeth. Tension out of this world. Her mouth doesn’t fight fairly, though, as she takes control, commanding mine with hidden curses and mysterious spells, and I fall under all of them.
Does she have any idea what she does to me?
I need her, and I need her now. I break the kiss leaving us both breathless.
“Come with me.”
She hesitates for only a second before her dark eyes alight with the same memory.
A sexy girl danced at the bar, celebrating life. She leaned up and kissed me on the corner of my lips.
“Come with me?” I questioned, and she didn’t hesitate.
Leading her by the hand, I practically drag her behind me, guiding her around the pool room, and out the back door to the motel.
First floor. Corner room. As I open the door Todd left unlocked for me, I wave her forward, and she stops just inside as I close the door behind me.
“Here?” Her breath hitches with recognition of the space. The place has been updated a little, but the plywood paneling remains. A flat-screen television replaced the old box set. A newer dresser. A better bed. But my addition, with my big brother’s help—an incredible display of candles in varying heights and shapes—flicker in the dim room.
“Here,” I remind her. She spins around, facing me with her back to the bed. I’d give anything to push her down and tumble on top of her, but she still looks a little stunned.
“There are so many candles,” she says, taking in the display over the dresser, on the nightstand, and the small circular table with a chair next to it.
“I wanted tonight to be special … magical.”
She looks up at me, her eyes softening.
She’s a goddess.
“This dress.” I exhale. Her lids lower and the lick-me eyes appear.
Oh my. The girl inside the woman returns. Tempting. Teasing. Delicious.
“What are we doing here?” Her eyes question mine. If I only kiss her, I’ll be a happy man. I just want to recreate a moment.
“I want to get it right this time.”
She takes a step to the edge of the bed, and then lowers herself to sit. Slowly, she rolls back to her elbows, keeping her eyes up to my face. I fall to my knees and press a kiss to each exposed kneecap before rubbing my hands up her thighs and under her dress. I don’t reach the promised land just yet but drag my palms back to her kneecaps. On my return trip up her thighs, I take the dress with the backs of my knuckles until I can see what’s under the red material.
A scrap of black catches my eye.
Mothertruckerchristonacracker.
Has she missed me all day like I’ve missed her? We have so much time to make up for and yet, we only get what comes next.
“I want to make love to you, Nae. Here. Now. I want a do-over.” She chews her lip and nods. I’m over her in a heartbeat, kissing those perfect lips and pressing her back against the mattress. I’m in a rush but I’ll also take my time to savor every delectable inch of her.
I pull back to remove her dress which slips up and over her head. When she’s free of the red fabric, all black greets me. Bra with lace straps along with matching cups and panties. My eyes land on the tourmaline crystal. With her black heels still on her feet, she’s a mesmerizing temptress.
“Is this for me?” I ask, skimming my knuckles over the swell of her heaving breasts and then dipping a finger inside the lace, not quite reaching her nipple yet.
“It’s for me. I’m not changing myself for you, but you do make me feel … sexy,” she says, catching on the word. I chuckle.
“Oh, you’re sexy alright,” I tease, slipping my hand behind her back to remove the bra and unwrap the prize beneath. Pink. Peaked. Ready for me, I devour one breast, swirling my tongue around the tough nip and sucking until she gives a sharp squeak. Then I pull back and take the crystal in my fingers to draw a circle around each breast. I curl and loop, marking her with an invisible infinity sign. I round the ripe tip of each nipple and release the crystal, heading for her other breast. Her fingertips stroke through my short hair, scrubbing at the back of my skull while I linger. My fingers walk down her belly to the elegant lace covering her and slip under the delicate material.
“Been thinking of you all day,” I tell her as I tweak her nipple with my lips.
“Me too,” she sighs, as I slip a finger inside her. So tight. So warm. Her hips respond instantly, following the drag of my finger, not wanting me to release her. Catch and release—it’s all part of the pleasure. Only there’s no more letting her go.
I pull back from her breast and lower to her lace undies, dragging them over her hips to her feet.
“Keep the heels on,” I suggest thinking about her digging those spikes against my backside. I’m six-ways-to-Sunday hard but I’m not moving forward without tasting her. Slipping to my knees again, I wedge between her thighs and lower for her center. As my tongue splits her slit, she lets out a squeak and her fingers cup my ears. Her knees rise up to the bed, her heels against the mattress. My tongue delves and dips, and when I look up to see her head thrown back, I’m ready to lose it myself. For a self-proclaimed repressed woman, she’s awfully free of inhibitions at the moment.
She’s only been with me.
Every bit of pleasure I take from her is for myself, and yet every bit of pleasure I give to her comes from the heart. The thought spurs me on until the telltale sign of her stiffening. Her thighs clench around my head and she says my name on repeat. NathanNathanNathan.
I give a final kiss to her inner thigh as she comes down from the high. I slide up her body and her legs spread, embracing me between them.
“Condom.” I pause, pressing up to move for my jeans. Her legs clamp around me and something fills her eyes as she stares at me.
“Have you ever gone without one?” She blinks and her legs slowly release me. “That was silly. Of course, you have.” She’s referencing the other morning when I so easily slipped inside her. Of course, there’s also the matter of Dahlia and Clem. Discussing my sexual h
istory is going to dampen this moment, so I put it as delicately as I can. “Dahlia was the result of an error in judgment, although I’ve never regretted her. I was just young and stupid and messed up in the head. Clem, was operator error with a condom.”
“And Charlese?”
“Sweetheart,” I sigh. “Never.” I grip her upper thigh and wrap her leg over my hip. I’ve lost a little momentum, but I rub myself against her soaked center and return to full steam.
“I’m clean,” I tell her, hating the awkwardness of this conversation.
“You know I am,” she chuckles.
She’s only been with me.
The reality of what’s about to happen makes a part of me overeager.
“You’re giving me something sacred,” she whispers, and I slide into her. We both moan at the connection. She’s so … everything, and I’m overwhelmed. I should proceed with caution, but I want to ride with abandon. I want to bask in the tight fit, the deep warmth, and the look she’s giving me with those charcoal eyes.
I slip back and then rush forward. Her head tilts back, and then returns to face me when I still.
“What?” she whispers.
“Your eyes.” I stare marveling at the color, the questions, the desire I see in them.
“You already licked me,” she teases, her voice low.
“They say something else.” I slide back and then push forward again, building a slow rhythm.
“What do they say?” She strains, her legs slipping over my back and her ankles locking to prevent me from going too far.
“Love me.”
Her head tips forward, her eyes landing on mine.
“Love me,” I repeat as I increase the pace I’ve set, drawing her to the edge and then filling her again. She focuses on me while her body responds to the movement, the rhythm, the dance we’ve set together.
“Love me,” I whisper.
“I do,” she says, so quiet her voice pops. The words set me off and we begin to move in earnest as my mouth crashes hers, swallowing the phrase. The increase in our passion separates our lips and when I move in a particular way, her breath hitches.
“Again,” she mouths, her hands squeezing at my shoulder blades.
“Say it again,” I mutter into her neck and she begins a chant. IdoIdoIdo.
The plea is soft, but the meaning definitive. I love this woman and she loves me, and together we’ll get to where we need to be to make us so much more. I repeat the motion she likes until we become a dance of drawing back and plunging forward. Naomi sets the beat with a new prayer: harderfasterdeeper, and I don’t plan to disappoint her. Ever again.
“Holy crap,” I mutter. “That was intense.”
I collapse over Naomi, pressing her into the bed. After all these years, I can’t believe we are in this room again. It would seem a bit surreal if it also didn’t feel like we had come full circle. Only this time, there are candles. So many candles, and it’s romantic. Magical. I wanted a do-over, and I’m giving us one.
I pull out of her and stand, commanding her to remain still. I return to clean her up and then toss the cloth on the floor. I reach to pull back the sheets.
“Are we spending the night?” she asks, and I don’t like the hesitancy in her voice. I don’t want anything to ruin tonight.
“We can’t stay all night, but let’s hang out a bit.” I don’t want to rush away like I did the first time we were here. We climb between crisp sheets, laying on our backs next to one another and I watch the candles flicker on the dresser, casting a sweet glow in the reflection of the mirror.
“Nae, I’ve got something to tell you,” I say, bracing myself.
“Okay.”
“I’m stuck on you,” I say, rolling my head on the pillow to look at her. I love you. My eyes try to tell her everything, and I shift to my side. “Do you get me?”
I draw down her nose with a fingertip. “I knew when I first saw you. Way back when, you were someone special. I don’t know how to explain it, but I knew. I knew you would change everything for me. And I fucked it up.”
I trace over her jaw. “I planned to see you again. The next day, but then life got in the way.” I swallow as we both know death was the cause. “But I’m seeing you now, Nae, and nothing will get in my way this time. Nothing.”
A slow grin curls her lips and my thumb rubs over the bottom curve. I lean forward for that seductive mouth and kiss her softly. This kiss is different. I’m not rushing. I’m not devouring. I’m savoring. I’m taking my time. I can’t make up for what we missed, or race to catch up the years. I just want this—a new beginning. I draw back and look at her.
“I don’t want anyone else, and while your jealous spat was heartwarming and gave me a hard-on, it’s not necessary. You’re the only one for me. That’s what I mean when I say I’m stuck on you.”
“You’ve been with a lot of women,” she reminds me, insecurity mixing with the truth.
“The past, goddess, that’s where we need to leave all that stuff. Behind us.”
“So what’s next?” She cringes as she asks and it’s cute how her nose scrunches up. She seems embarrassed she asked and sits up. I watch her struggle to keep the sheet over her breasts and braid her hair into an intricate twist. I sit up myself and kiss her shoulder.
“I like that braid on you,” I say, watching her reflection dancing in the mirror opposite us. She has that otherworldly look about her again and I’d like to watch her form this braid every day. I meet her eyes in the glass and smile. “It’s sexy.”
Braiding her hair is an avoidance tactic, but I’m not letting her get away from me. I suck at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She tips her head back and watches me in the mirror make my way up her neck and under her jaw. I fist the braid, tugging her head back for more nibbles on her throat.
“I’m so fallen for you,” she says, and I feel the vibration under my lips. My mouth seeks hers.
“I want you again,” I mutter against her lips. “I’m not going to even question why I want you so much, but first I need to answer your question. I’d like you to officially meet Todd, and Ma, and the girls. I want you to come over, and I want us to go out. I want to spend as much time with you as I can.”
“Dates?” she asks pursing her lips into a pout and tapping a fingertip over them as she reminds us both of the proposal I gave her weeks ago. I tilt my head and narrow my eyes wondering what she’s thinking. We’ve already discussed this at her house the other night.
“All the dates,” I grumble. I press her back to the bed and she giggles under me.
“Sex?” she blurts, although not as reluctant as I remember when she first questioned me about it, when I propositioned her.
“Definitely sex, although I’m not opposed to kissing and nights of just holding you close.”
“Deal.” She leans up and kisses me, and I love that she’s reaching for me. Taking from me. She quickly pulls back. “And phone calls?”
I pop up to my elbows. “That reminds me, I have something for you.” I roll from the bed and I cross the room to open the dresser drawer. Naomi watches me, candlelight flickering over my body. She’s staring at my backside and I catch her in the mirror. When I turn to face her, she gasps.
“You should come with a warning.” Her eyes roam my abs, my pecs, and my flaccid dick. Even so, she’s nearly drooling. A man could get used to this.
I tuck myself under the sheet, sitting upright, and present her with a box. A bow sits on the top covering the signature emblem.
“You bought me a phone?” She looks up at me, and I smile wide, pleased with myself.
“Now, you can text me too. Don’t be shy. Photos optional.” She gasps as I tease. “Seriously, I want you to call me whenever you want, though.” I nod. “In fact, I want all the phone calls,” I flirt and then lean over for her lips. Pressing her back into the pillows, I set the phone aside. For now, I want all of her. Again.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Dewey Decimal C
lassification: 027.4 Public Libraries
[Naomi]
Dahlia did call me and we settled on a date for a girls’ day: Dahlia, Clementine, and me. I’m nervous. This is a big step and once again I worry Nathan and I are moving fast, but Dahlia seemed sincere when she invited me to join her and her sister. Clementine is always happy to see me, but Dahlia hesitates. It isn’t so much she doesn’t like me as she’s leery of me. I don’t think she’s convinced I’ll stick with her dad, but she doesn’t understand. I’ve been waiting for him for a long time. I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere now that I have him back in my life, so I offer patience without judgment. I remember being seventeen.
Clementine isn’t really a shopper, which sounds like me, but Dahlia tells us she could spend hours at the mall. I prefer we do something a little less intense than shopping for a first time alone together, so I suggest we head into Knoxville for pizza. Brick oven pizza has become a local specialty. Slice of Heaven is a place where you can make your own pizza, pile on a variety of toppings, and then watch it bake.
“I like your outfit,” Dahlia says to me while we sit at the table and wait for our pizzas. I refuse to believe I’ve changed my attire for anyone but me. However, I’ve had a few questioning looks lately regarding my clothing. Who knew so many people would get all worked up over me changing a few things in my wardrobe? I haven’t worn the red dress again to the library. That was a one-time thing, and I’m saving it for another special occasion with Nathan. Today, I wear skinny jeans. Diane Donner-Sylvester would have been so proud of me. She’d always worn skirt-suits or dresses until her daughter talked her into embracing herself. Release the inner goddess. Diane shifted to slim pants and skinny jeans on occasion. I also wear ankle boots and a long cardigan sweater which drapes to the knee of my new pants. It’s a compromise of sorts—I like it—and my black tourmaline remains prominent against a white tee underneath.
Eventually, we’re stuffed from pizza, but the girls talk me into coming to their house to make brownies with them. I have an excellent recipe to make them from scratch, but Dahlia pipes up.
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