I have no doubt the shelter is not the whole story, probably the first thing that popped into his head. Knowing Nate, he’ll probably stop by there for a minute only to turn his white lie into the truth.
I can’t let this Tomas guy question how much I trust his friend so I have no choice but to seem all casual and laidback being left with him.
“Tomas, will you excuse me a moment?”
I head for the bathroom. You can do this, I tell myself. You can go out there and be a gracious host. Who knows? Maybe I can get some real information about Nate’s dark days from him.
I quickly change into a comfortable sweater and pants and then straighten my hair in the mirror before rejoining Tomas in the living room.
“Anything you’d like to drink?” I ask him. “A snack maybe till Nate gets back with dinner?”
“I’m good,” he says. “We already had a drink.”
I notice the bottle of vodka and the shot glasses on the coffee table but I don’t ask how they got here. I definitely don’t own any of those things.
“Okay, I say,” grabbing a cushion and setting it on the floor to avoid sitting next to him.
I try to understand why I seem to be taking a dislike to him. Sure, he seems a bit cocky but other than that, I have no reason to be this apprehensive. I barely know him and I should be grateful for the opportunity to peek inside Nate’s life before we met.
“How long have you known Nate?” I ask.
“Five or six years. We both lived in Las Vegas at that time.”
A real answer. I already like him better and it seems like he’s more relaxed now that it’s just the two of us. Some people act in a rather animated manner when they have an audience of more than one.
“What were you doing? In Las Vegas, I mean.”
“Working at casinos. I actually thought I could make a career at gambling and get rich fast.”
“Really?”
“The dreams of the young,” he says with his vaguely theatric manner.
“You’re still young,” I remind him.
“Not young enough anymore to delude myself,” he says.
“That sucks,” I say. “Delusions can be fun.”
“True, but they also come with walloping hangovers,” he says sadly.
I already feel older and more life weary just talking with him.
“You should have a shot of vodka,” he says. “You look tense.”
“No, thanks. Booze doesn’t sit well with me.”
“Escape is not your thing. That’s courageous.”
“I’m hardly courageous,” I say. “And I don’t mind being tense.”
He stays silent for a moment, looking around the living room as if trying to locate a subject of discussion. “Nate has never lived with a woman before,” he says out of the blue.
“Really?” I’m not exactly surprised but still pleased.
“Truly and it’s so unlike him. You’re a surprise in his life, a newly discovered star in his universe.”
“I’d like to think I’m special to him,” I say picking up one of the shot glasses that’s still full and turning it around in my fingers next to the lamp. Crystal colors sparkle out of the liquid, like a painting on stained glass.
Tomas takes the second shot glass and pours vodka in it. “The one you’re holding is Nate’s,” he says with a grin. “They say if you drink out of a man’s glass, you’ll know his secrets.”
“Who says that?”
“No one of consequence. Europeans.”
“People just make a lot of shit up,” I say. “Besides, I only want to know the secrets he decides to tell.”
He gulps down his shot. “Noble, but I’m not buying it.”
I put the shot glass down. I’ll be damned if I’ll discuss my personal life with him. “Let’s talk about you,” I say. “Married? Engaged? In a relationship?”
“No to all three with a shudder.”
“Right.” Surely this Tomas guy must tire of carrying out this created persona every waking moment of his life.
“Listen, Grace, I don’t mean to be rude but I have to tell you this,” he says, rubbing his ear. “Men like Nate need to be strong. Your inherent strength may be a hindrance to his own.”
“I see no strength in his past life as a colorful drifter,” I say, my blood boiling. I’ve had enough of all his riddles and innuendo.
“I don’t mean to upset you and I realize that shot was meant for me and not for him,” he says. “It’s obvious you two are in love.”
“And let me guess, you don’t believe in love,” I say.
He laughs. “As I have said, I am no longer young, but this is not about me at all. I am here to help, Grace. A harbinger of good tidings and whatnot.”
I smile. “A harbinger? Not usually used in a positive context.”
“I am suggesting you loosen the leash you have on him. You’ll thank me for it in the end. And you must protect his beleaguered soul like plutonium. He’s been hurt quite enough.”
A stranger advising me on my love life is all kinds of fucked up. “I understand you’re trying to help, but I think we’re good.”
“Why did you guys move in together so soon?” he presses me.
“I think your concerns would be better expressed to your old friend rather than to me,” I say. “He’s free to come and go as he pleases. As for me, my name is on the lease.”
“Nate does not handle negativity well. It’s you who must adjust.”
“You’re selling him short because you think you know him better than you do.”
He lifts his brows and grins at me. “I can see why he likes you. Let’s just forget I said anything.”
I shake my head. “Now that sounds like the old Nate. Always wanting to go back in time and start over. Nathan might just surprise you if you let him.”
“He well might, but even you must admit giving him a little space to breathe would be a good idea. If not given he might feel the urge to take it back himself. I have seen him do things that might surprise you.”
I’m about to bombard him with questions when the key turns in the keyhole and Nate shows up early with a big smile on his face and two bags from Claim Jumper’s.
“It’s nice to see you’re both alive still,” he says as he locks the door.
“Grace and I have become fast friends,” Tomas says, punching my shoulder ever so lightly.
I fake a smile while throwing an imaginary dagger at him.
The seeds of doubt this strange man has planted in my head were unwelcome. Nate and I have no desire to return to or live in the past. We must always move on or else spin our wheels forever in the muddy gunk of extinct emotions from the worst moments of our lives.
We are not fossils of our former selves. We are living and breathing in the here and now. Life goes on, Tomas. Deal with it.
Chapter 18
The lights are all off, replaced by freshly lit candles casting big shadows on the apartment walls. Somebody has been waiting patiently for me to get back home from work. It’s the first week of December but Nate makes me feel like it’s Christmas already.
“Hey, babe,” he says, leaning in to kiss my lips softly.
“I thought you’d be at the rescue shelter tonight,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“I did go but decided to leave early so I could do some shopping.”
“More surprises,” I say, excited like a little girl. “What did you get?”
“Close your eyes,” he says.
I wait for a few seconds before he tells me to open my eyes. Next to the coffee table a small Christmas tree stands all lit up.
“I didn’t get any ornaments,” he says. “I thought you might have some or maybe we should buy them together.”
“Isn’t it a bit early for a Christmas tree?”
“No way. It’s December, isn’t it?”
“Barely,” I say. An odd sadness mixes in with the happiness and I am not sure wh
y. This is the first Christmas tree to have passed the doorstep of my apartment. I should be overjoyed. Perhaps I’ve forgotten how to accept the warm and intimate spirit of the holiday season.
He encloses me in his arms and kisses my forehead. “We’ll learn how to do this together,” he says.
“It’s wonderful,” I say giving him my biggest smile.
“It will be, babe. We’ll make our own traditions.”
My heart warms at the velvety sound of his voice, so caring and protective and familiar.
I shrug. “I’m just being silly. The tree is beautiful. You are beautiful. It’s going to be an exciting December.”
He smiles as he puts his hands under my thighs to pick me up. “Sure thing,” he says, kissing my neck. “I think I’m going to unwrap an early present.”
“What are you going to do with me?” I cry out as he carries me to the bed.
“A little impatient, are we?” he says, setting me down on my back, his lips brushing against my neck.
“Never mind,” I say, breathless. “Do what you want. Everything’s yours.”
His relaxed smile gives peace to my heart and soul.
His hands pull off my shirt and jeans fast as lightning. He pulls the straps of my bra down forcefully all the way to my hips where he grabs the sides of my panties as well. Bra and underwear come off together at my feet, his fingernails lightly scratching my thighs in the process.
As soon as I’m naked, he rushes out of his shirt and pants. I can see he is all ready for business. He flips me onto my stomach. He lies over me, his hard-on rubbing against my cheeks and lower back.
“I’m going to touch you now,” he whispers. “Be still until I’m done. Protesting won’t help you.”
My mind goes in twenty different directions as I try to understand the meaning of his words. His left hand reaches under my chest to cup one breast.
No protest from me so far.
He presses his right hand between my legs, finding my entrance. I try to spread my legs to give him better access but all that accomplishes is that he moves his hand away. “Didn’t I tell you to be still?” he says.
“I was just trying to help.”
“Now you’ve lost the right to talk. You can moan or cry out but that’s the only sounds I want to hear.”
I nod to show my compliance. I like his electrifying touch too much.
“That’s a good girl,” he says reaching between my legs again, gently positioning them to his desire.
I’m at his mercy. His fingertips find my clit, rubbing ever so lightly. I’m dying with the desire to rock my hips back and forth to get more pressure out of his fingers but I control myself since I’m not allowed to move.
His hand moves to my flower, opening me up with one finger. Just as a moan escapes my lips, he moves his hand away and onto my other breast.
He squeezes my breasts harder and harder making my impatient clit pulse with desire. He takes one nipple between his fingers and starts pinching it, gently at first, then with more pressure. When the pinching turns into twisting, I get an irrational fear he might pinch my nipple off.
I let out a terrified cry but remain still. The pinching becomes softer as he kisses my neck. “Smart girl,” he says. “If you had protested or tried to move, I’d pinch the other nipple as well until you begged for mercy.”
“Fuck you, Henley,” I say, the whole time realizing his insane game is making me hornier by the heartbeat.
I hear him laugh in my ear. “Swearing will not be allowed.”
Before I get a chance to react, he grabs my hips and pulls my ass upward, pushing my head and shoulders back down to the pillow. His hands get between my cheeks spreading me open as far as my body will allow. I gasp as I realize that stretching my entrance any further would be painful. And then he rams into me. There’s nothing gentle or considerate about the way he slams his entire length inside me as fast and hard as he can before my body has time to adjust, holding my cheeks tight and pulling them back against him with every thrust, making me gasp again and again.
I was a fool to challenge a man like him in bed, knowing fully well he’s entirely too big for me. But I’m not all that innocent. After the initial shock fades, my muscles relax and my senses sharpen. My hips move back and forth welcoming his thrusts every time he pulls out. The fearful cries coming out of my mouth quickly evolve into moaning pleasure.
Nate squeezes my cheeks harder and then slaps one of them loudly. He indulges himself in a few scolding spanks as he pounds himself into me again and again. I love it more than moans can say.
He suddenly pulls out and flips me roughly around to face him with a devilish smile on his lips. “You were not supposed to enjoy this,” he says.
“It is all your fault,” I say, pouting as I grab his shining erection.
“What can I say? I was born to please you,” he says, teasingly.
“Just shut up and do your job, you big-headed idiot.”
“I love you, too,” he says, sliding his delicious tongue inside my mouth. “Be a good little girl and ride my cock.”
He lies back and a second later I mount him. “Now, I’m in charge,” I say, grabbing onto his beefy chest with both hands.
He groans as I move the head of his erection against my slick entrance. He quickly grabs my ass hungrily and drives himself into me.
We both smile from total pleasure when we hear the front door open and close with a thud.
“What the hell was that?” he says, grabbing my wrist.
“Damn it, I keep forgetting to have the bloody doorbell fixed.”
He considers my words comprehending the situation. “Who on Earth has a key to your apartment? Taylor?”
I shake my head. “It’s Jack.”
“Jack?”
“My ex.”
“Oh yeah?” he stares at me as if I have just uncovered the secret to eternal youth or immortality or both.
“I’ll tell you all about it later,” I whisper. “Now let me go. I’ll send him on his way in a jiffy.”
I try to get off him but he tightens the grip on my wrist.
“Why does he still have your key?”
“Long story. Long relationship.”
“Grace?” I hear Jack’s voice from the living room.
Panic rises in my chest. “Let me go, Nathan. And be quiet.”
“I don’t think so. I’d like to meet this Jack of yours.” I don’t like the expression on his face one bit. “In here,” he calls out as he quickly presses his erection deeper inside me with one hand, pushing my hips down with the other, and grabbing a nipple between his teeth, all at the same time, forcing me to stay on top of him or risk losing a nipple.
That’s how Jack finds me – straddling Nate, my breasts hanging over his face, one nipple in his mouth, his cock pressing inside me. I’m mortified, humiliated, enraged. I have no idea why he’s doing this to me. Is he really that jealous of a past relationship? Is he trying to prove a point? What point would that be? That he can force me to do things I don’t want to do? That I am his and his only?
Jack stares at us for what seems an eternity and then turns and leaves the room. As soon as he’s out, Nathan relaxes his grip on me, setting me loose.
“What’s the matter with you?” I say, slapping him all over his face and chest. I get off him and grab my pink bathrobe, the one that he hates, to go find Jack.
He’s sitting in the loveseat, perfectly still among the shadows of the candles and the flickering Christmas lights, staring at the wall or maybe not seeing anything at all even though he has turned the TV on to some loud cartoon show.
“Jack, I’m so sorry,” I say. “You shouldn’t have seen that.”
He remains silent for a few excruciating moments. “Relax,” he says finally, “I’ve seen it all before.”
“It’s not the same,” I start to say, feeling a knot forming in my throat the size of a golf ball.
“You’re still the same hot,” he says with a cro
oked grin.
“Please, shut up,” I whisper.
“Cute little butt and big, hard nipples.”
I walk to him and slap him hard across the face, suddenly glad the loud TV noises have probably prevented Nate from hearing Jack’s stupid words.
“You have no right talking to me like that,” I say. “You’re in my home and you have entered without my permission. I want the goddamned key back.”
“You’re right,” he says, feeling up his jaw and cheek where my fingers landed. “I shouldn’t be here, but I just can’t stay away. I’ve tried.”
“Try harder.”
He catches me unawares when he reaches his hand out behind the back of my head, pulling me in for a kiss. I manage to shove him away right before his tongue gets in my mouth.
“For fuck’s sake, Jack. You just found me in bed with another man and you want to kiss me?”
“You think it’s weird?”
“You know it’s weird. What are you saying?”
He keeps rubbing the cheek I slapped as if I’ve caused some permanent damage. The humiliating situation hits me hard. All I want is for him to leave.
“I don’t know what to do,” he says. “I’m not myself.” He pauses to lock eyes with me. “I have the results back.”
Things start to make sense all of a sudden. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out the news can’t be good. That’s why he’s acting this way. I struggle to get the words out of my mouth. “What did they say?”
He shakes his head, a hoarse laughter taking over the stillness in the room. “The doctor was right. It’s been confirmed.”
“You have MS?” I ask.
“Yep. I’ll be on medications for the rest of my life and who knows what other kinds of treatment I’ll be subjected to. It will be fun watching how my body falls apart every day, every month, every year.”
I sit down next to him. “Jack, you can’t think like that. Every moment is precious. None of us know how much time is left,” I say, but the words sound hollow to my own ears.
“Grace, I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have come here but for some reason I can only be myself around you. With everyone else it’s bullshit.”
“Listen to me,” I say, taking his hand is mine. “The worst thing you can do now is give up. A positive attitude is the best weapon.”
Beautiful Ruin Page 14
