by Kelly Myers
I sink into a chair and close my eyes. I try to envision her beautiful face. It’s been too long since I last saw it. I can still recall how bright blue her eyes were up close, and the way her bottom lip is fuller than the top. I want to roll her around on the bed until her dark hair is as messy as possible. I want to memorize every line of her curves.
She has to let me though. She needs to choose to let me in. I can’t force it or make that choice for her. She chose to trust me once, I need to believe she can trust me again.
I am mildly concerned about my reaction to her. I haven’t been this hung up on a woman in a long time. It’s not like me to be this obsessive. I’ve never been this determined to see someone. I’ve never felt like if I don’t see Cynthia in the flesh very soon, I’m going to explode.
I won’t run away from my feelings though. I’m too old for all that.
But I’m not too old for Cynthia. That’s one thing that has become clear to me. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make love to her again. I need to show her that I’m right for her. Maybe not forever. Maybe I’m not her soulmate. But I can be right for her where she is in her life.
Somehow, I manage to pass the hours. I cook myself dinner and eat it alone, all while staring at my phone, waiting for a response to my text. It never comes.
By nightfall, I’m at the end of my rope. She has to know that I expect a response. She has to know that I won’t just be ignored.
I’m standing in my kitchen, gazing out the window above the sink, when it happens. Her living room light switches on.
For a solid minute, I barely move. I just stare at the square of warm light.
Then I see her pass by the window. It’s the briefest glimpse, but the sight of her shadowy form makes my stomach tighten with need.
She’s in there. Drifting back and forth. I watch the window for a long time, but I don’t see anything else. She must be sitting out of sight, or maybe she moved to a different room.
My patience evaporates in that moment. I walk to my closet, pull on a jacket, and I head for the door.
It’s time that Cynthia and I had a little talk. She needs to know exactly where I stand. And she never needs to send me text messages like the one she sent today.
Chapter Fifteen
Cynthia
My heart leaps all the way into my throat when I hear the doorbell ring. I know it’s Nate. Who else could it be?
I shouldn’t have ignored his request to talk, but I didn’t know what to say. I figured I had at least 24 hours to mull it over.
But it looks like my time is up.
I jump up and head toward the door. I could lock the door. I could even call the police.
But I don’t even consider those options.
Because deep down, I want to see him. I want to look into his face and hear what he has to say. He’s going to be honest with me, and I’ll have to be honest with him. It’s terrifying, but inevitable.
I pull open my door and walk down the steps to the main door to the building. He has a key. He could just use it. I suppose he’s at least trying to give me a choice.
I open the door and lose my breath at once. He’s so tall and strong, and he fills the entire frame.
It’s as if he’s grown even more handsome since the other night, and as I run my eyes up and down his body, I flush as I remember how we touched. I know that body. I know what his bare skin feels like. I know what it feels like to be pressed against his firm chest.
How could I possibly have texted him that it was just a “fun night”?
“Cynthia,” Nate says. “We need to talk.”
I look up and meet his smoldering gaze, and right away I have to look down again. It’s too intense for me.
“I know,” I say.
I turn and lead him up the stairs, all the while acutely aware of his eyes on my back.
After the gym, I showered and changed into jeans and a sweater. My feet are bare though, and somehow that makes me feel undressed and exposed.
When he enters my apartment, I turn and stand in the middle of the room. He shuts the door and stares at me for long seconds.
I pride myself on being able to maintain my composure. I think I’m relatively well-spoken.
With Nate standing in front of me, an expression somewhere between anger and hunger on his face, I’m at a loss for words.
“Um, what was it you wanted to say?” I stammer out.
I bite my lip and cross my arms. I sound like a blubbering idiot. Even worse, I sound young. Nate must be wondering what the hell he was thinking, having sex with a child like me.
A smile spreads across Nate’s face, and it’s chilling. I know whatever he’s about to say is going to be intense. I can’t tell if he’s furious or happy, and I don’t know why he would be either thing.
I’ve never felt such tumultuous feelings, and it makes me want to bury my head under about five blankets and hide for days and days. Nate won’t let me hide though. He is willing to give me space, but I can’t hide from him indefinitely. That much is clear.
“I didn’t like your text earlier,” he says. “And I don’t buy it.”
My stomach clenches. I worked so hard on that text, and yet he still sees right through it. “What part didn’t you buy?”
“I have feelings for you,” Nate says. “It wasn’t just a one-night hook-up for me, and I don’t think it was for you either.”
He takes a step closer to me, and suddenly I feel like an animal being stalked by a masterful predator. It’s not a bad feeling though. If anything, it’s exciting.
I’ve tried to evade capture, but now Nate has caught up to me. He wants me. And I want to be caught. My cheeks burn red as I realize I want to be devoured by him.
Nate takes another step, and suddenly I’m surrounded by him. His crisp scent invades my nostrils, and he grips my shoulders in his steady hands.
“Tell me how you really feel.” His voice is gentle and so kind, I want to tear up. “It’s alright, Cynthia, I’m here for you.”
I open my mouth and stare straight at his chest. “I feel confused.”
“That’s ok, sweetheart,” Nate says. The affectionate term makes me blink. “I want to help you process that. What’s confusing?”
A lump rises in my throat. It’s not from tears of sadness though, but tears of relief. I’ve been avoiding Nate and hiding this event from my friends and my mother, when in fact, I need to talk about it. I need to work through my emotions.
“I never imagined it would be that way,” I say. “It was unexpected.”
I can’t hold the tears back anymore, and they start to run down my face. Nate makes a comforting sound and wraps his arms around me, holding me tight. I grip his shirt in my fists and let out a few sobs.
“I’m not crying because I’m upset,” I mumble. “It’s just been so intense.”
“Shh, I know, it’s ok,” Nate whispers in my ear. “It’s ok to feel these things.”
I bury my face deeper in his chest and let the tears flow out. As they do, there’s a loosening in my chest. My shoulders relax and I feel at peace for the first time in days.
“I should have stayed with you afterwards and let you process your thoughts,” Nate says. “I’m sorry I left.”
“It’s ok,” I say. “You were respecting my wishes.”
Nate leans back and examines my face. He reaches up and wipes a few tears away. His fingers are impossibly gentle against my skin.
Then he takes my hand and leads me to the couch. We sit down next to each other. I curl up my legs beneath me, but I keep my hand in his.
“It just happened so fast,” I say. “I always had this crush on you, but I never thought anything would happen. But then it did, and it was amazing, but it just wasn’t in my plan.”
Nate nods and smiles down at me. “And you like to stick to your plans, right?”
I nod and shrug. Now that I’ve cried a little and expressed my turmoil, I feel much better.
“Cynt
hia, I understand there are elements that were sudden and a bit inappropriate,” Nate says. “But I really care for you, and I want you to be able to express your real feelings.”
“Thank you,” I say. “It can be hard for me, I guess.”
“You expressed yourself well enough the other night.” Nate’s low tone make the hair on the back of my neck rise up. It’s not fear, but excitement.
“You made me feel so comfortable,” I say. “I didn’t think my first time could be that good.”
This was something I never could have admitted over text or over the phone, but with Nate’s solid arm around me, and his kind eyes focused on me, it’s easy.
Nate smiles. “I’m glad it was good for you. It was good for me too.”
I lick my lips and look up at him. I had assumed he enjoyed it since he reached climax, but I hadn’t been sure how much he enjoyed it. I figure he’s had plenty of sex in his life. I probably don’t even rank in the top 10. But I am curious.
“Really?” I ask. “I thought you’ve had so much experience, it wasn’t that big of a deal for you.”
Nate shakes his head to stop me. “It was a big deal. I knew it was the first time for you, but also I wanted you so badly. I’ve wanted you for ages.”
I feel a zap of warmth between my legs. How can he turn me on this much just by sitting on a couch and telling me he wanted me? Is it possible that I turn him on just as much? He makes me feel so beautiful and desirable, it’s almost overwhelming.
Nate leans over so that his mouth is close to my ear.
“You and I have something special,” Nate says. “The other night – I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
I squeeze his hand. “Me neither.”
Nate leans back and grins. “See? How hard was that to say?”
I let out a giggle.
“You didn’t have to send that text,” Nate says. “In fact, you had better never send me a text like that again.”
I blink up at him as I try to figure out what he’s saying. We’re not really a couple now. I may be innocent, but I know there are a few more conversations that would need to happen. But he seems to be implying that we’re something. And that we will definitely be sharing a bed again. Very soon.
“I can tell you have more questions,” Nate says. “Spit it out.”
I blush at how easily he can read me. “So what comes next?”
Nate tips up his head and examines the ceiling, as if he’s thinking hard about it. I want to reach out and run my finger along his jawline so I can feel his prickly beard.
“I know you’re graduating soon, and leaving for medical school,” he says. “But I was thinking we could enjoy the time we have.”
I furrow my brow. So he’s not proposing a relationship, but it sounds like more than just hooking up.
“I know it doesn’t fit into any plan.” Nate taunts me with a crooked smile. “But there are a lot of things I’d like to do to you. To teach you. You like to learn, don’t you?”
My breath leaves my lungs in a rush. His words seem to light a fire in the pit of my stomach. Whatever he wants to teach me, I want to learn it. Desperately.
Nate snakes his arm around my back and pulls me closer against him. “Well?”
“Yes.” My voice is barely a rasp so I clear my throat. “Yes, that sounds good.”
Nate raises his brows. He slips his other hand out of my grip and places it on my thigh. “You’re sure about that? You’re not going to send me another text tomorrow suggesting we never do this again?”
“I’m sure.” I’m confident in my words.
He’s right. The text message was my attempt to suppress my real feelings and desires. But Nate is offering me a better option. I’m comfortable with him. I don’t have to hide anything when I’m with him. I can be totally honest. He understands what I want, and now I see what he has in mind.
He’s right, it’s not part of my plan. Even so, all I want in this moment is for him to make love to me again. I’m so aroused that I want to tear at his clothes.
Nate places his hand beneath my chin and lifts my face so I’m looking him in the eye.
“It was very bad of you to deny your feelings, Cynthia,” he says. “You wanted more from me, but you said you didn’t.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’ll tell you the truth from now on.”
An electric thrill courses through my body. His voice is dangerous, and it leaves no doubt that he’s in charge now.
“You can always tell me how you feel,” Nate says. “But never send me a text message to hide your feelings, ok?”
“I know,” I say. “I won’t do it again.”
Nate leans forward and presses a gentle kiss against my lips. “I need to make sure you don’t misbehave like that again.”
I nod, my eyes wide with excitement.
He opens his mouth, and I hang onto every word he says.
“I think you need to be punished.”
Chapter Sixteen
Nate
I don’t think, I just act. I can tell the moment I tell Cynthia that she needs to be punished that she is into it. Her eyes get so wide they nearly overtake her face, and she sucks in her breath in anticipation.
If that wasn’t enough, she confirms it with her next words. “Yes, I agree. Punish me.”
I move on instinct and place my hands on her hips, dragging her onto my lap until she’s sitting on my legs. Cynthia lightly places her hands on my shoulders and looks up at me. Once again, she has that look of complete trust in her eyes, and my groin throbs with desire.
“Let me think how I should do it,” I murmur. “I want to make sure you learn your lesson.”
She sucks her breath in as I press down on her thighs. Just from the way her eyes are dilating, I can tell she’s already turned on.
In a sudden movement, I surge to my feet, taking her with me. I keep my hands planted on her back so she doesn’t fall over. Then I tower over her and examine her pale face, alight with curiosity and anticipation.
“You need to stand very still,” I say.
Cynthia nods. “Yes.”
An urge pops into my brain, and I lean closer to growl in her ear. “Yes what?”
“Yes, Daddy.” I hear her shiver with delight, and it makes me hard in an instant.
I take a step back and look her up and down. She stands with her hands dangling at her sides, her wide eyes tracking my every move. I like her like this, primed and ready to do whatever I want. It makes me eager to do things that will make her scream in pleasure.
I pluck at the hem of her sweater with my fingers and then start to slide it up and over her head. She lifts her arms to help me remove it. I let the sweater drop to the floor and pause. She’s wearing a simple black bra, and I admire the way the straps stand out against her creamy skin. Her breasts rise and fall emphasizing their perfect roundness. Tonight, I want to take her in. Last time happened in a rush, and this time, I want to take it slow and savor every moment.
I skim my knuckles over her bare stomach, and I relish the way she instantly bites her lower lip.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper. I bury my hand in her hair and caress her cheek with my other hand.
“Thank you, Daddy.” Cynthia’s voice is low and sultry. I adore her like this, freed of her inhibitions.
“But you were very bad today,” I say. “You lied to me. Are you going to misbehave like that again?”
“No, Daddy, I promise.”
I pull my hands away and circle her until I’m standing behind her. I grip her hips and yank her back against my own hips. “How can I be sure of that?”
“You have to believe me,” Cynthia gasps. “Please.”
“If you’re a good girl and take your punishment,” I murmur in her ear. “Then I’ll believe you.”
Cynthia lets out a sound somewhere between a moan and a hum, and I take it to mean she’s excited for her punishment. My own cock pushes against her bottom, and I press
it against her harder. I want her to feel how much I want her.
I move my hands to her front and unbutton her jeans. I slide them down her smooth thighs, salivating at every inch of her flesh that is exposed.
When her jeans reach her ankles, she steps out of them, and the movement is so delicate and graceful, my heart seems to burn with some deep-seated passion for her.
I turn her to face me, and I step back, pulling my hands off her.
I take in her entire body, from her bare feet that are surprisingly tiny, to her curved legs and her simple gray underwear, to the flat plane of her stomach, the lush swell of her breasts, and then the prominent collar bone, partially covered by the fall of her dark hair.
I watch as Cynthia swallows and her throat moves. I want every inch of her. I want to touch her, possess her, in every way imaginable.
“Get on your hands and knees,” I say.
Cynthia’s brows shoot up, but she only hesitates a moment before dropping to her knees. She places her palms on the floor, and then looks up at me with her trusting eyes. “Like this?”
My throat goes dry at the sight of her, and I can only nod.
I take a step so I’m behind her, and then I get on one knee as well, placing my hand on the perfect curve of her bottom.
“Are you ready for your punishment?” I ask.
I don’t want to just start spanking her, not without enough warning.
“Yes, I’m ready,” she says.
I lift my hand and bring it down, firm but not too hard on her bottom. Cynthia jolts a bit and gasps, but not as if she’s in too much pain.
“That was for lying to me about how you felt.” I keep a firm grip on her hip as I lift my hand again, then bring it down, slightly harder in the same spot as before. “That was for texting me instead of talking to me in person.”
This time Cynthia lets out the smallest whimper, and it nearly undoes me. The sound is at that erotic crossroad of pain and pleasure.
