by Ariana Rose
I’m always cool under pressure. At least I was until him. I know that’s part of why I fight him so hard. He scares me. Not in a creepy kind of way, but in an I have no fucking clue what I’m doing, I want to do things with him I’ve never done before way.
That few minutes I took in the ladies’ room was to try and chill out. I ran some cold water over my hands and wrists. I took a few deep breaths and tried to lower my heart rate. Before I left to go back into the club, I looked at myself in the mirror and told myself to just forget everything I was feeling.
The minute I get to the far edge of the dance floor and I can see him nursing his beer, the last five minutes of chill go out the window and fast. He’s looked like a GQ model all night. Then, the view of him simply sitting in that booth. Shit! His blond hair is messed up in the front and hanging a bit long over one eye. The Stanley Cup ring his father gifted him is reflecting in all the lights on his right hand.
He looks dangerous in his black, long-sleeve button-down shirt with black dress pants to match. Like a bow around his waist is a black leather belt with a silver buckle, which might as well be blinking like the signs all up and down the strip. All he’s missing is a jacket, and I would have thought he was a prince from a fairy tale, a very dirty one. I’ve had enough fantasies about marrying one to know that he is no prince. He is far better because I can touch him, and that’s exactly what I want to do.
The lights turn all shades of gold and purple when Prince fills the room. My mom was a huge fan, so this song was super familiar to me. I am constantly hoping not to fall over in these heels. However, I’m glad I have them on, especially with this dress. I would have never worn a dress like this before today. I feel different today period.
I make sure I’m on a clear path back to him when I see him rise from the booth. He’s staring in my direction. My heart begins to race. I can’t see his eyes, but his body is screaming messages to me, at least I hope so. I take slow careful steps, as the music seems to draw us together.
We finally make it to within touching distance. I’m scared. I want to touch him. I want him to touch me. Neither of us moves. Now I can see his eyes, they are rich, dark, and wholly sexy, yet soft as I’ve ever seen them. He watches me for a long time. It seems like forever.
Then slowly his hand reaches out for mine. Is he asking me to dance? Holy shit. Holy shit. I let my right hand fall into his left. Without thinking, I weave my fingers with his. I can feel small pulses between us. My brain is turning to mush along with my body. Hugging him was one thing, holding his hand was too, but dancing in this dress is totally another.
His right arm tugs around my waist so we are pressed together. A hint of hops with lemon…when I rest my head on his shoulder, fuck me…he smells like the best candle in the whole world. It’s two words I can barely remember, but all I know is when I smell that candle it is all man to me and that is how he smells.
I’m lost in him until I feel his hand sink lower and lower on my back. The thought crosses my mind that he might never stop. Would I want him to really. His fingers dance above where some could say he shouldn’t go in public. Instinct and an insane need take over and I pull our hands between us to rest on his chest.
His heart is pounding. It feels like it could beat out of his chest. What does that mean? He likes me. How could he really? I tilt my head up a bit to see if I can read his face. I need to test this further. Will he push me away if I slide my hand up his arm and over his shoulder in public? I keep going and going. He never flinches. His eyes never leave mine. This is a decision we’re both making.
I let my hand rest across the back of his neck. There is a light fuzz beneath my fingers along his hairline. He’s about two weeks past his haircut and it’s starting to grow back in. It makes me tingle.
As he shifts his weight a bit as we turn, I strum my index through ring finger over his skin. He takes a breath so deep it startles me. I quickly move to wonder as he takes our fingers and tilts my chin up. I wish I knew him better than I do. I need to know what this all means. I know what I want. If bodies could be neon, mine would be saying, at the very least: Kiss Me.
My heart is now pounding as fast as his. My mouth and lips are so dry. I slide my tongue over them in a hopeful attempt to be able to speak. Before I can say anything, Spencer leans down and kisses me. He. Kisses. Me.
I inhale in pure heaven and drape my arms around his neck. His skin is so warm, a little damp even. The heat between us is epic. He holds me like I might break. In any other moment I’d be pissed. That small gesture makes this kiss perfect.
I try to remember every second. Every single second.
I’ve wanted this for a long time…
Oh God.
I remember.
Chapter 26
Spencer
We linger in the kiss for the rest of the song. We teeter on the brink of moving from passionate to the entrance of foreplay. I know what I want. I know what I need. I think I know what she wants.
I slide my hands from her body to hold her face gently. I slide my nose along hers. I can feel a soft heat radiating from her skin. I’m getting more drunk from her than I could from any variety of alcohol I have ever taken in.
“Cierra? Do you want to leave?”
She looks into my eyes and gives me my new favorite word. “Yes.”
It’s taking everything I have not to scoop her up so we can get back to our room faster. I don’t want to appear the savage, even though that’s how I feel. We leave the dusky lights and sounds of the club, my hand guiding the small of her back, at her pace.
It gives me a few minutes to appreciate her even longer legs once again. How can a woman, all of five feet four inches, have legs that long? They bend and curve with a grace all their own. We exit the front of the casino to the strip and a light rain that has been holding off begins to fall. We’re across the street from our hotel and I have no interest in waiting on covered transportation.
Cierra, in keeping with the moment, tugs on my hand to urge me along when I stop, wondering what she will want to do. She doesn’t want the moment to pass. Her pace quickens with every step. The click of her heels on the concrete sidewalk is evidence to that.
Each drop of water on her skin rolls with gravity. Some fall away from her upper arms. My favorite ones drip from the loose pieces of her hair, then fall to her back and out of sight beneath the fabric. Fuck. I wish I were one of them right now.
We race through the lobby. The concierge who got us the tickets earlier is back on duty. She watches the pace with which we enter, and I get a smile from her before she focuses back on her computer. We wait outside the elevator doors for what feels like for-fucking-ever. I can feel the not so subtle tension between us. I feel like if I touch her again right now, I won’t be able to stop. Not only has it been since Mari, but also a switch has been flipped. I would do anything, be anything Cierra wants or needs me to be.
In that moment, she takes my hand. She doesn’t look at me. I know how much she likes to hide when things get too close. I won’t let her do that much longer. The ding and the doors opening are the point of no return. We step on and the noise of the lobby fades. All we are left with is the pounding inside our chests, the breath from our bodies, and the deep spa-style music being pumped into the space.
The music has vibrating tones, which are keeping me amped. I take a look at Cierra out of the corner of my eye. She’s got her left hand across her upper chest. Her pinky meets the swell of her breasts, which are peeking out under the neckline of her dress.
That’s all I can stand.
With fifteen floors to go, I cage her in between my arms to the back of the elevator and kiss her neck slowly up and down the right side. I can feel her weight shift between us. She steps out of her heels and her height drops about three inches. I can’t help but smile against her skin.
Cierra takes hold of the front of my shirt with both hands. She balls the fabric into her petite fingers and gives me the softest, sexiest pu
rr. I would have had zero shame in taking her right here and now, but our floor and room beckon from beyond the elevator doors.
Cierra giggles, crouches to retrieve her shoes, and ducks under my arm to escape. My hands make fists and playfully pound the walls before I follow. I catch up to her outside our door and trap her in from behind. I hand her the keycard but as I do, I wrap my hand around her torso and pull her back flush against me.
Her damp hair waves under my chin. I nuzzle my nose against her ear and breathe deep. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
She replies in a way that shocks me. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.” My eyes open to those seven words and the blip of the lock releasing for us to go in. She takes the handle in her hand and pushes through to the center of the room, to the foot of the bed in front of the bench. “I remember. I remember what I said last night.”
Her silhouette changes as she turns toward me. “It took me a while. You tried to tell me something on the car ride today, didn’t you?”
“Yes. I did.”
I try to cross the room closer, but she holds her hand up. “Stay there. I want to get this out, but I don’t think I’ll have the courage if you’re right here next to me.”
I toss my wallet on the dresser and unbutton both cuffs on my shirt as I listen. “It may not have happened to me often, or I’m questioning ever, but I’m sure I have feelings for you. I’m not going to say I’m in love with you yet, but I do love you. I’ve fought it for a long time. I didn’t know if it was because you care about how I really feel or because, even in your workout drill sergeant ways, you show me all the soft things.
“It used to annoy the shit out of me, but now I miss it if it’s not there. I know I could never be like the women you’ve been with before. Mari. For whatever reason, I feel like you want me. I want you to know I want you too.”
Jesus. For not knowing if she would have courage, she nailed it. Her honesty is disarming in all the best ways. I finally move in closer when the silence gets to be too much. This time she doesn’t stop me.
I slowly draw my index fingers up the underside of her arms until I meet with the thin straps of her dress. I slide them over the caps of her shoulders until the fabric begins to pool in new places. I can see a shiver pass across her. I want to keep this heightened awareness for her. I follow the trail of chill bumps with my lips. Her purr is back.
Cierra reaches in and begins to unbutton my shirt from the top down. Her fingers work each button slowly. I can see her hands tremble. I let go of her straps, so they fall to her forearms. A hint of the pinker portion of her skin peeks out from the darkness. She’s so beautiful.
I take hold of her hands and pull them to my chest. She wraps her fingers over my hands, and I kiss the tops of her knuckles. “Don’t be afraid.”
She leans in and kisses my chest. “I can’t help it.”
“I won’t hurt you,” I whisper.
She pushes up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. Her lips part slightly, and we slowly let our tongues dance. My body is screaming to grab her. My head knows better.
She lets go of my hands and shifts her hips back and forth. Her dress slides off her skin and pools at our feet. All that’s left between us is her nude-colored lace and my clothes.
Cierra slides her hands beneath my shirt and pushes it off. Her hands then come to a rest on my torso. She backs away from our kiss to look at me. This is the first time I can really see her body. Her hourglass figure is sheer perfection. Her skin is a shade lighter from mid-chest to the top of the lace at her hips.
Her hair, still damp from the rain, is curling up around her face and shoulders. Her lips are full and a bit pouty from what was on them before I wiped them clean in our kiss. She drags her hand slowly across my body from shoulder to shoulder; facing me, then takes graceful steps to my left. Her lips meet my right shoulder blade, then the center, and finally the left.
The left gets a little more attention with a second kiss before she speaks, “We’re…we’re going to be safe right? You have protection?”
I look toward my left shoulder. “Yes. Of course. I always do. Always.”
“Good. It’s …”
“It’s what? Now isn’t the time to shut down on me, Cierra. There’s nothing you can say that will change things.” She circles back in front of me, takes my hands, and steps backward, bringing us toward the bed. Cierra slowly sits down on the bench. She looks up, still saying nothing, but her silence is saying something. “Cierra. I’ll say it again. There is nothing you can say that will change things.”
I open the buckle on my pants and let it hang before I settle in beside her. She reaches into my lap and pulls my hand to her chest. “Be gentle with me. Please? I’ve never, I mean…”
It all begins to click. She’s not scared of me. She’s scared in general. She’s never done this. “You’ve never been with anyone, have you?”
“I’ve done what we have so far before, but where I think we’re going, no, I haven’t.”
“Jesus, Cierra. You are willing to give yourself to me, just like that?”
She keeps hold of my hand. “It’s not just like that. You’re not a stranger. You haven’t been for a while, especially the last couple days. I feel like what we’ve been through in that amount of time is more than all the workouts, fights, and everything else we’ve shared. I feel like we’re finally us. So, no. It’s not just like that. I don’t think you’d hurt me in that way. I’m not expecting forever, I only know that I’m ready and I feel safe with you.”
This isn’t something I expected. I know we will be crossing a line that will be hard to come back from if this goes south. Now I’m a liar. I told her nothing she could say would change things, but this does. I know what she’s giving me. I have to be surer before I take something from her she will never be able to get back.
I don’t let go of her hand. “Cierra,” I pull my right knee up between us and face her, “we should talk about this. I didn’t know.”
“What? Now you don’t want me or this?”
“What? No. Hell no. Give me a minute to process.” Cierra tries to let go of my hand, but I hold firm. “I need you to promise me that you’ll listen until I’m finished and not only say you’re listening, but really fucking listen.”
She lets me keep hold of her hand but turns her body slightly away. “I’m listening.”
“I don’t lie to you. If you know nothing else, you should know that.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Good. I didn’t lie when I said there was nothing you could say that would change things. You being a virgin doesn’t change how much I want you or this. It does put a deeper meaning on it. I can’t take something from you that you won’t be able to get back. I don’t want you to regret giving me this one-time gift.”
She turns her body back slowly and looks up at me. Her eyes are swimming in that horrible place between sadness and ecstasy. “I won’t regret it. Don’t make choices for me again. Dammit! This is my choice.”
“It’s also my choice to put a pause on it to make sure we’re both ready.”
“You’re telling me no, aren’t you?” she asks.
“Cici…” I pause to take her chin between my index finger and thumb to look at me. I never use her nickname, ever. As her eyes meet mine, I can tell that caught her attention. “Cici, I’m not telling you no. I’m going to tell you not yet.”
Chapter 27
Cierra
He can say all the words he wants but the sting of this rejection isn’t going to go away easily, if at all. He claims not yet, but all I hear yet again is you’re not good enough. This isn’t what I want and so you don’t slide down the rabbit hole, I’m going to throw you a bone.
“It’s fine, Spencer.” I break free of his hands and slide off the bed. My foot tangles in the clothing we’ve left behind on the floor. I crouch down to pick up my dress. I can hear the rattle of his belt follow behind me then I feel his hands on my shoulders
.
“I’m not made of glass. I’m not going to break,” I tell him.
“I know better than that,” he whispers in my ear. The softness of his touch and the heat of his breath only make this worse not better. I’m the liar. I’m not going to break. I don’t know if that’s true. I said I’m not in love with him. I know that’s not true. I am in love with him. Maybe I didn’t know that until I was told no. But I do now.
“I feel stupid.”
He places a kiss on the back of my neck. “That’s the last thing I want you to feel. Look at me. Please?” I turn around to face him and sit on the floor near his discarded shirt. Isn’t that irony? I pull the dress over me to cover up as best as I can.
“Do you trust me?”
“If I didn’t, would I be here?”
“That’s a question only you can answer. Look, I don’t want the night to be over. ‘Time doesn’t exist.’ I want to still be with you.”
“You’re telling me no, or not yet, but the night isn’t over?”
“No. No, it’s not. Just because we’re not having sex tonight doesn’t mean…”
He stops talking. In many ways I’m glad he does. I don’t know if I can take more words right now. I go for what I know in the moment. When I’m in a more anxiety driven place, I focus on my breath. I close my eyes and try to block the noise in my surroundings and in my head.
I feel the air going in and out of my lungs. I begin to notice my heartbeat in my ears. Every time I feel myself being pulled to something other than myself, I make my lungs go in and out. In the middle of my self-induced routine, I feel his lips press against my forehead.
I sigh, “What are you doing?”
“What we can. What I want. What I need.”
“I know you want and need more. That was painfully evident.”
“Cierra, I’m a man. But I’m also human and someone who cares about you in many ways. I know how badly you want control over something. Take control by letting go of it.”
