It was a lot to take in.
But while I stood in stunned amazement, Natalie seemed to not be having second thoughts about allowing normal-ol-me into her home. She moved aside and gestured with the smoothie for me to come in. “Hey! Did you eat this morning?”
I held up my coffee, searching for words that didn’t have to do with how overwhelmed she made me feel. “The breakfast of champions.”
She snorted, quietly shutting the door behind me. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Come on into the kitchen. The first rule of fitness is to eat healthy.”
By the time I’d toed my converse off—watching the sway of her butt as she went—she’d disappeared into the kitchen. For someone on crutches, she sure didn’t seem to have a problem with speed. This left me alone in her entryway, and I couldn’t help but pause to take in the penthouse. The place looked like an interior decorator had swept through. Which, I realized as I took in the paintings of snowy mountains and scenic beaches and the furniture that complimented them so fittingly, was probably the case. One entire wall was glass windows, their thick curtains drawn and held in place on opposite ends. The living room was the size of my whole apartment, and the sectional couch looked more comfortable than my bed.
“Amber?” The sound of her voice hit me right in the gut, drawing a tugging feeling from me.
I blinked. I’d lost myself to the gawking.
The tile floor was cool beneath my feet as I padded into the kitchen. A part of me was worried I’d find Natalie preparing a smoothie for me. I was pleasantly surprised to find a fruit salad and scrambled eggs waiting for me. “You really didn’t have to,” I said, trying to recall the last time someone had made breakfast for me. And I was the healthy one here, the one in mint condition. If anything, I should have made Natalie breakfast.
She took a seat beside me at the kitchen island while I ate. Periodically she sipped on her smoothie, not appearing the least put out by the odd green color. I got distracted for a long moment watching her lips close around the straw, the way they pursed, the movement of her neck as she swallowed. Aware I was staring, I nodded at the drink and summoned my politeness. “I can make you something else, if you want.”
Natalie’s lips quirked around the straw. She pulled off with a slurp. My breath deserted me when she licked her lips, tongue flicking out to catch a stray drop of smoothie. Was I going into cardiac arrest? I didn’t think anyone heart should skip so many beats. “You know, not everything has to be tit for tat.” She reached out and plucked a strawberry from my salad. I watched her lips close around it.
Heat twisted through my belly. I was definitely having an episode. This was a hallucinatory dream brought on by yesterdays events. There was no other possible explanation for me to be sitting in a kitchen with the woman of my dreams while she did everything in her power to arouse me. Natalie confused me. She turned me inside out with nothing more than a glance. “Um.”
Natalie’s smile grew into a smirk. I felt like the canary must have before the cat pounced. And boy did that put a special image in my mind. I could feel my cheeks heating. Natalie nodded at my bowl. “Eat. Trust me, you’ll need the calories for what comes next.”
Stretching came next. As someone who regularly did yoga, I thought I had this in the bag. I wasn’t expecting Natalie to hover around me, touching to encourage a deeper bend or stabilizing me when I wobbled. Not only did this serve to make me self conscious, it was highly distracting. “The goal is to get you properly limber before you really put your muscles to work,” she said, running a hand down my spine. I shivered in the wake of her fingers and tried to subtly cross my legs as if that would stop the rush of heat. “You’re too tense. Try taking deep breathes and centering yourself.” She dug her fingers into my shoulder and massaged. I had to bite my lip to keep back a moan. “Ease into the pose.”
If she didn’t stop putting her hands all over me, I wasn’t going to be able to do a damn thing. I couldn’t concentrate past the coolness of her fingertips through the thin layer of my shirt, the steadiness of her palm as she rubbed it over me. I wanted to arch and purr like a cat at the contact, seeking more and forgetting everything else.
It wasn’t conducive to concentration.
It was, however, the first time in years I hadn’t thought of work or school.
Who knew all I’d needed to distract myself had been an attraction so intense and impossible that it was nearly painful?
Natalie grasped the back of my neck and rubbed. Internally I willed my muscles to not go limp with pleasure. It would look ridiculous if I collapsed to the mat beneath me and begged her to not stop. “You’re thinking too much.”
Exasperated, I twisted to peer at her. She was the reason I couldn’t relax. As if her presence wasn’t enough to distract me, she had to keep putting her hands all over me. I dared anyone to be able to blank their mind under such circumstances. “You can’t know that.”
She grinned. “You’ve got an expressive face. Let it all go for now.”
I settled into the pose with the firm belief Natalie was insane.
“No way.” I stared in abject horror at the bathing suit Natalie held out to me. I was not about to put that on in front of her. I doubted it would even fit, my butt was nearly nonexistent compared to the perfect peach shape of Natalie’s. Not that I’d been looking…. Oh, who was I kidding? I couldn’t stop looking. My gaze went to her bottom like a magnet whenever she turned. “Can’t I just, like, run in place?”
“Swimming is great for building endurance and easy on your joints.” Natalie shook the two skimpy articles of clothing. “The pool won’t bite.” She winked.
I glanced at the ceiling. What had I gotten myself into? Mustering all my courage, I accepted the proffered bikini and went to change. Once I was dressed, or rather more accurately undressed, I glared at my reflection in the mirror. I was not looking forward to my stomach being on display next to Natalie’s washboard abs. They weren’t ripped like a man’s, but lean and defined. She had an innie for a belly button, and her stomach was just as tan as the rest of her. A real tan, too, not the kind gotten from a bed.
I jumped when she knocked on the door. “Stop overthinking, and come on,” she said.
“Stop reading my mind,” I retorted when I opened it. I could feel my face heating as she took me in, her gaze roving from my head to my yellow painted toes. Would it be too much to ask her to put on a suit? Equal amounts of nakedness for all. Not that her shorts and sport bra covered much more than the bikini would. I followed her out of the apartment and to the floor above, staring in amazement at the indoor pool. “Wow.”
“Nice, right?” She let one crutch fall and bent her knees.
I was at her side in an instant, ignoring her protests as I helped her sit. “I’m not letting you damage yourself ‘cause you’re stubborn.” She appeared surprised, and I felt a stab of satisfaction. She wasn’t the only one who could be bossy. I helped her position herself so she could comfortably recline with the leg that wasn’t injured in the pool while keeping the other dry. Her blue painted toes shimmered under the water, and she flexed her foot, showing off the high arch.
Once she was settled, I didn’t waste time diving into the water. It felt like ice. I broke the surface, gasping, and slicked my hair back from my face. Natalie said, “Here,” and I glanced up in time to catch the hair tie she tossed me.
I was acutely conscious of her attention as I started laps. Swimming was something I did okay. I didn’t have time to get to a gym, and my apartment building certainly didn’t come with a pool attached. It had been years since I’d done this, and I knew I was rusty.
She talked the entire time, and between long strokes of my arm and kicks off the walls for momentum, I realized she had a habit of filling the silences in general. I’d known her for twenty-four hours, and I already knew what her favorite television shows were and what movie she couldn’t wait to see. I knew she didn’t like Brussel sprouts and she loved cheese, even though her dietician disap
proved. Tiny details that were somehow very personal.
It struck me, as she told me about a dog she’d had as a child and how she missed having a pet, that Natalie’s perfect life might not actually seem so perfect to her. Natalie was lonely.
The realization was mind boggling.
Under the guise of needing a break, I settled my arms on the tile by Natalie and kicked lazily with my legs to remain afloat. She smelled of chlorine and vanilla body butter, and every so often her leg would bump against my side as she swung it. Without thinking, I reached a hand down and curled my fingers around her dainty ankle when she grazed my side. I stroked my thumb over the hard not of bone. She didn’t pull away, so neither did I. “I can’t have a dog at my apartment, so I’ve got fish instead,” I admitted. I told her about the small aquarium, and the clown fish that was actually quite a bully to the other fish. I talked about how I’d always had a pet growing up, and how living somewhere alone seemed untenable. The fish weren’t the same, obviously, but they were something to take care of other than myself.
Natalie listened attentively, and she asked plenty of questions. When she laughed, I found it hard to remember what I’d been saying. She had the lightest giggle, quiet and musical, and as the minutes flew by, I tried to elicit the sound more. I counted every smile and every burst of mirth. I catalogued what it took to reveal Natalie’s dimples and to make her nose scrunch up—an action which broke her laugh into a snort. It was such a disarming noise, so unexpected, that my immediate desire was to cause it again. The more she laughed, her eyes began to water, turning the dark green irises incandescent. Her lush lashes spiked with the moisture, thick and black, and she was, hands down, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
Chapter Three
The school week started, and my days off disappeared. Still I managed to find time to see Natalie. She encouraged me to bring my books over, and she made me the most delicious meals after I’d had long days. I checked on her ankle constantly, making sure it was healing as it should. She helped me organize index cards, and she’d spend hours sitting opposite me on her couch, quizzing me until I had them memorized. She was good about making sure I took breaks as well. We’d pause for an episode of something light and funny on Netflix, and then we’d resume. I’d tell her about my day and any crazy patients I’d seen, and she’d share hers. There was genuine interest on both our parts, and the part of my day I looked forward to most was the part which would be spent with her. My crush was becoming something out of control, and I didn’t have the self preservation to stop it. Not when this was the best thing to have ever happened to me.
It was a Thursday night, and I’d taken my last midterm of the semester, and we sat on the couch with tubs of ice-cream in our laps. One of the films Natalie had wanted to see was playing on the television, and our legs were intertwined on the cushions. Mine cradled her injured ankle where it rested on a pillow. We had plush blankets tucked around us, and occasionally we’d sit up to dig our spoons into the other’s ice-cream carton. The pretense of preparing for a marathon had largely flown out the window after that first day—though Natalie still insisted on healthy meals and a half an hour swim.
I steadily sank into the cushions, my eyelids getting heavier with each passing second. The apartment was so warm, and Natalie’s legs against mine were radiating a heat of their own. I felt… cocooned was the best way to describe it. Exhaustion overtook me, and before I knew it I was asleep.
Apparently I slept for several hours before Natalie gently shook my shoulders. I blearily opened my eyes to find her hunched over me, braced on her crutches, and a soft smile quirking her lips. “Hey, sleepy-head.”
I slurred a question of the time as I tried to regain full consciousness.
“A little after eleven. Why don’t you sleep here?”
I sank back into the couch. “M’kay.”
She laughed. “Not on the couch. I’ve got beds.” She was still hovering above me, her face inches from mine. I wanted to trace the path of her freckles with my fingertips. With my lips.
I’m not sure who moved first.
Our lips met in a soft glide, and I cupped Natalie’s cheeks, memorized the movement of her jaw beneath my palm. I grew more confident as the kiss continued. I nudged into Natalie’s space, demanding, and moved my lips with more surety. I traced my tongue over her bottom one, teasing her. I slid my hand into her hair, my fingers tangling in the silky auburn strands. My breath was stuck in my lungs and fire was licking its way through my insides. I’d never felt anything like this before.
Our noses bumped, and she giggled breathlessly into my mouth. I could feel the curve of her lips against mine and the dent of her dimple with my thumb. Her hair had fallen forward, swaying around our faces like a curtain, shielding us from the outside world. She opened to me, and I slipped my tongue inside, tangling with hers. The glide was slick and hot, and there was a fire burning in my belly. Without breaking our contact, I tried to shift closer while simultaneously pulling her down. I wanted Natalie on top of me, her weight solid above me and pressing me into the couch. I wanted pressure against my core, something I could grind down on before the sensation building inside me became too much. The sound of one of her crutches hitting the tile floor was loud and had us parting for air. Our gasping breaths filled the silence that was left behind.
Natalie bit her bottom lip, sucking it between her teeth to worry. My gaze was glued to the movement, perfect white against plush pink. I wanted to be the one biting on her lips. I wanted to leave marks. “Do you want to… move this to my bedroom?” It was the first time I’d ever heard Natalie sound anything close to unsure.
I don’t know how she thought I’d say anything but yes. I needed to find out what came next. My being yearned for it. Unable to put all of this into words, I nodded and swiftly rose from the couch. It was a lesson in patience following her to her bedroom. Thanks to the crutches, we couldn’t continue where we’d left off on the way. My hands kept twitching with the urge to touch her, wanting to reach out and trace the curve of her back, the swell of her ass, and even just hold her hand. Soon I’d get to touch her. I’d get to explore all the parts of her I’d been dreaming about.
I was desperate by the time her bed was in sight. It was a huge thing, king-sized and with a decadent deep blue comforter. The head of the bed disappeared under the mound of pillows. It was the picture of comfort, and as I took it in, that was when the nerves hit. I’d never done this with a woman before. I had no clue what I was doing. I was shaking as I sat down, my hands trembling and my exhales unsteady. I wasn’t scared—this was excitement and anticipation and the strong desire to make Natalie happy.
She shut the door behind us with a soft click, and her crutches were loud on the floor as she crossed the room to me. I helped her lay them aside and come to rest on the bed beside me. We stared at each other, eyes wide and lips parted to allow for our faster exhales. Our chests were rising and falling in near synchronization. Natalie was nervous too, and the knowledge calmed me.
This was going to be good. No… it was going to be perfect.
I straddled her lap, spreading my knees around her hips, framing her face in my hands, and I gazed down into her intense, beautiful eyes. Her skin was warm against mine, and her hair brushed my knuckles, soft and faintly tickling. I brushed my lips over the tip of her pert nose, the stunning arch of her cheekbones, her eyelids, and finally… finally I laid my mouth on hers. Much like our lips were pressed together, our bodies were flush. I could feel the press of her breasts against mine, the way she shivered when our tongues met.
Everything was slow and languid. We had all the time in the world to do this, here in our own little bubble. Our noses bumped and our teeth clacked more than once, but it was still the best kiss I’d ever had. We didn’t let anything deter us. As we explored the other’s mouth, I began to move restlessly, hips shifting wantonly. I stopped fighting for control and let my hands wander. I lost myself in the feel of Natalie. The silk
y strands of her hair as they fell around my fingers. The shivers down her spine and the warmth of her so close.
Natalie was doing her own exploring. She’d worked her hands under my shirt, her palms pressed flat to my back. She went from the base of my spine to the top, spread her fingers, and moved to feel the flex of my shoulder blades. She curled her fingers, and her nails began to retrace the same path. She didn’t press hard. It was barely there pressure, but I found myself moaning, my hips twitching, and my hands clenching on her shirt.
She fell back to the bed, and I followed her down. I broke the kiss to trail my lips over the sharp line of Natalie’s jaw, and then lower. I learned the planes of her neck, what it felt like to feel her pulse thudding beneath my lips. When I licked over that patch of skin, she shuddered beneath me and whined. So I did it again, applying my teeth to the spot and sucking. One of Natalie’s legs came up around my waist in response, and she put a hand on the back of my head, holding me in place.
I gave the spot my full attention, only relenting when the curiosity of what was left got to be too much. I nosed my way to the sensitive skin behind and below Natalie’s ear, and I found it drew a very similar response in Natalie. Her exhales were high and breathy things, each one spurring me on. She sounded amazing, and the constant rush of heat to my lower regions left no doubt as to my reaction.
It took a few minutes for me to register her hands on the hem of my shirt and the way she was tugging at it, trying to draw it up. Getting unclothed required parting from one another long enough to do so, and the idea was surprisingly hard to wrap my head around. She drew my shirt over my head, and then her fingers deftly moved over the clasp of my bra, freeing me in record time.
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