by Karina Halle
I could finally let loose, be anything, anyone. And I wanted to be animal. He was making me one.
I groan loudly. I want to growl. I want to demand he fuck me even harder.
“You like that don’t you?” he growls. “It’s making you wetter and you’re already so fucking tight.” He pushes his thumb all the way in and I gasp. It’s both so wrong and so right at the same time and fucking hot as hell.
“You’re creaming around my cock, babe,” he murmurs, making a thick, primitive sound from somewhere deep inside. “You’re ready to come.”
And just like that, his finger presses down in one slick motion and I can feel how wet I am and how every inch of me feels so damn full and I am coming. I’m coming loud.
The orgasm rips through me and I know I’m trying to hold onto the car door or maybe I’m just trying to hold on in general because I feel like I’m being flung somewhere very far away where there are stars and music and my skin is blistering as the need melts off of me. I feel reduced to nothing but a shining light and then Bram is still going, still working away at me even though my muscles are rocking with spasms, muscles clenching around him.
“I’m too sensitive.” I try to tell him this and catch my breath at the same time but he doesn’t stop and it sounds like he’s operating on pure instinct now, driven to fuck, to come.
And somehow, I don’t know how, but my sensitivity melts away and even though I’m still full and swollen, I’m coming again for the second time.
This time Bram comes too. It seems violent, surreal, bigger than the both of us. His sounds, those gorgeous, crazed sounds, fill the car and as I come down from yet another high – the greatest high – he’s holding my sweaty back against his damp chest. He kisses down my spine in between trying to catch his breath.
“Fuck,” he swears, trying to clear his throat. “That was unbelievable.”
“You’re telling me,” I tell him, my own chest heaving. I peel myself off the car door and nearly collapse onto the seat. “I’ve never come twice in a row like that.”
“Then next time we’ll have to shoot for three,” he says, smiling against my skin. He places his hand around my waist and then slowly pulls out. I automatically feel empty without him.
We sit down next to each other in the backseat, the air filled with the hot and musky scent of our sex. I’m totally naked and drenched. He looks both slick and disheveled at the same time.
“Let me know if you want a ride next time,” he tells me as he opens his door.
“Will I ever.” I quickly slip on my clothes and he drives us the rest of the way home, no more pit stops.
When we finally make it there, however, we disappear into his apartment for a quickie. I know, I know. We just had mind-blowing sex and should leave it at that. We’re fucking greedy, what can I say. And it’s bad of me since Lisa is on the clock, but I can’t help it. Even just leaving his car, his hands were all on me as we climbed the stairs and though car sex was as steamy – and ground-breaking – as anything, there was something about the comfort of a bed that called to me.
Plus, you know, the man was making me damn insatiable. When I was with Phil, I rarely felt this turned on all the time. Even when we first started dating, everything was so controlled and, let’s face it, my physical attraction to Phil was never off the charts. He was cute, albeit skinny, but I think I was more attracted to his indifference and brains than anything else. And it’s not like he made me feel like the sexiest woman on earth. If I ever gained a bit of weight – and this was back when I was so damn thin – he’d comment and it would set me off for days.
So where sex with Phil had been adequate – I mean, it produced Ava – it was never that bone-melting, must have, orgasms all night, kind of sex. Not like it is with Bram. I wonder if this is what sex in general is supposed to be like or I just got the luck of the draw with Bram. I’m going to assume it’s mostly the latter.
Finally though, it’s time to return to my apartment. Bram says he’ll freshen up and then come over to sleep once Lisa leaves and I’m ready for bed.
“Sorry I’m late,” I tell Lisa as I step inside. “Missed my bus.”
She looks a bit cross but says, “That’s okay.” She gets up off the couch. “Ava was an angel, as always. Her levels were fine, too.”
“That’s great, thank you.”
She walks past me to the door but stops and stares at me with a discerning eye. “You look different.”
“Do I?” I ask. I checked my hair and makeup in the car back from our “shag spot” and after the quickie, so I don’t think I particularly look like I’ve just had sex or done something wrong.
“You’re all flushed,” she notes.
“Must have been the walk from the bus stop,” I tell her, wanting to add that it’s cold outside but I don’t want to keep talking and make her suspicious. It’s not that I’m trying to keep us a secret, it’s just that I don’t know what us is yet. And screwing your landlord doesn’t look very good to the outside eye.
She opens the door and then jerks her head toward Bram’s apartment. “You know, your neighbor has some pretty loud sex.”
I nearly choke. “Oh yeah?”
She nods gravely. “Yeah. I don’t know how you sleep with that racket. Got to admit, he makes for a good show. And whatever woman he’s with.”
I feel my cheeks burn. “Have a good night, Lisa. Thanks again.”
I have no idea now if she suspects about Bram and I, but I know at some point she’s going to put two and two together. I make a mental note that just because we’re in Bram’s apartment, doesn’t mean I can’t cry out his name at the top of my lungs. I should ask him to gag me next time and then that thought itself turns me on.
But when Bram comes into my bedroom later, I’m exhausted and it seems like he is too. He doesn’t push me for sex, he just wraps his thick arms around me and holds me to him. It’s nice. It’s so nice, just to be held, to be wanted.
“You comfortable?” he whispers in my ear.
“Very,” I tell him. “I’m used to Ava crawling over me or just sleeping on me like a sack of potatoes. But this, this is very nice.”
“Good,” he says. “Because I don’t plan on letting go.”
“I had no idea you were such a cuddler, Mr. McGregor.”
“Oh, there’s probably a few things you don’t know about me, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “But you will, in time.” He kisses my earlobe. “Besides, it’s hard not to hold onto you. I’m afraid if I let go of you for one minute, you may just slip through my fingers. And then where would I be?”
“Jacking off?”
“Aye,” he says. “But you can’t do that forever.”
“Really? I’ve tried.”
“You really need to show me your dildo collection one day.”
“Only if you promise to behave with them.”
“Nicola,” he says in mock indignation. “I can’t believe you think I would do anything that would jeopardize your fair virgin beauty.”
I giggle. “Shut up. Who knew you were such a dork?”
“Not many do, so please keep it between us and I won’t tell anyone about your dildo collection.”
“It’s just a few toys,” I say, playfully slapping his arm and settling back into the mattress. It feels so, so good just to be in his arms. “Besides, I think everyone I know has an idea. Steph says men think of me as an ice queen. Ice queens don’t get laid.”
“Mmmm, that’s not true. They do get laid. It’s just on their own terms. This was on your terms, Nicola, and you know that. Maybe I oughta thank you for letting me between your legs. Or maybe I oughta congratulate myself for saying all the right things, though for the life of me I don’t know what they were.”
“I’ll just say, whatever you’re doing—”
“Which is you,” he interjects. “Over and over again.”
“—keep doing it.”
“And tonight?”
Now I feel a bit guilty. “
I’m actually kind of tired.”
“Same,” he says, propping up his pillow. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t wake you up in the middle of the night the only way I know how.”
I smile at that and let this absolute feeling of peace settle over me. The moment, as simple as it is, is pretty much perfect. It is perfect. I’ve got my daughter in her own room, responding well to the insulin and shots, taking the whole thing like the trooper she is. I’ve got a wonderful apartment, more than just a roof over my head. I’ve got the opportunity to really get my life on track, to start over and end strong, and I’m doing just that. And now I’ve got Bram, this wonderful beast of a man who keeps my brain guessing and my body coming.
I do catch myself on that last thought though. Because as much as I have him in the moment, as much as his arms are around me, keeping me calm and warm as the cool night air wafts in through the open window, and as much as I had him earlier tonight, I don’t really know what the future will bring. I don’t even know what we are. He said he wouldn’t date or fuck anyone else and I believe that, just as I wouldn’t even think of it myself.
But what does that mean? Are we in a relationship? Does he do relationships, like boyfriend and girlfriend, or am I just some sort of a monogamous fuckbuddy? I want to say that I don’t mind just being a fling, especially if I’m the only one he has. But the truth, the damn scary truth, is that I’m falling for him. It’s not love, I know it’s not. It’s not hitting me over the head, it’s not stealing my heart.
But he is stealing my thoughts. He’s training my body to want him and only him and all the time. He’s making my heart beat faster when he’s around, he’s making me smile like an idiot when I even hear his name. He’s making me look forward to each and every day because I know he’ll be in it and when I imagine a day without seeing his handsome face, there’s this strange sensation in my chest, like my heart is bereft.
My heart can’t be involved though, it’s too risky, it’s too soon. I don’t want love to swoop on into my life and turn it upside down, not now when everything is starting to go right. In my experience, love is a destructive force, tearing hearts to shreds and forcing people to pick up the pieces. Even the best love stories are violent tales.
I have to wonder if Bram has ever been in love. If he’s actually gone that distance and bid farewell to his heart. If he’s been serious enough about someone else to share a part of his life with them to move in, to have something that has a label attached. I wonder if he’s ever been down this road and if it’s something he’s even open to.
“Have you ever been in love?” I ask, my voice sounding far away, as if in a dream. I can’t believe I’m actually asking those words out loud, but there you have it. If my brain doesn’t turn off, stuff will eventually come out my mouth.
I can feel him flinch beside me so that cancels out any hope that he was already asleep. Sometimes I have no idea how long I get lost in my thoughts. Is it moments? Minutes? I tilt my head to see his sharp gaze in the hazy darkness. “Don’t worry,” I go on. “I’m not in love with you,” I assure him.
“Oh,” he says, clearing his throat. “That’s too bad.” He swallows and then rolls on his back so he’s staring up at the ceiling. “Yes. I was in love. Only once. I had it pretty bad too but…I was young. Shit happened. I panicked and I fucked up. I fucked up big time. I was just such a bloody idiot. It’s a real fucking shame, you know? Because I think love is the sort of thing you should reflect on and feel good about. That’s what love is, isn’t it? A good thing? But I can’t look back on her, on what happened, and feel anything but shame.” His chest rises and falls with a deep breath. “What I wouldn’t give sometimes for that chance again to just fix things…make them right. But we rarely get a second chance, do we?”
I know it shouldn’t bother me, but the way he’s talking about this woman is making my heart cower, like an early frost has stormed on in. “What’s her name?” I ask.
He hesitates for a moment then says, “Taylor.”
So, Taylor did a real number on him. I hoped that whatever we were – whatever we could be – would be enough to erase her from his mind.
“That’s a nice name,” I tell him, feeling stupid as I say it.
“She was a nice girl,” he says. “But that’s all in the past and in the past is where it will stay. What about you? Your baby daddy?”
I chew on my lip for a moment. “Was I in love with Phil? You know what? I don’t know. I guess so. Maybe it was just infatuation? Stubbornness? Like I’d become so determine to love him I thought I did. Is that possible? Anyway, whatever we had, it still ruined me in the end so maybe it was love or maybe it was just loss. I don’t know.”
“Maybe it was love or maybe it was just loss,” he repeats slowly. “I like that. That makes sense to me. Because sometimes you don’t know, you just know what you had is gone and you know how that makes you feel.”
“Yeah,” I say through a heavy breath, remembering how damn low I felt after Phil left. How scared. Now, I don’t know if my heart itself was breaking because love was lost or if it was just what Phil was to me that was gone. “I guess you know if you know.”
“That’s true,” he says. His arms tighten around me. “Now, why are you getting all philosophical in the dark, huh? Do you need a spanking to set you right?”
I giggle and push his face away from my neck as he attempts to kiss me. “No, I’m good.”
“You’re the opposite of good and you’re going to be punished.”
He suddenly flips me over and climbs on top of me, his hand smacking the side of my hip, his mouth all over my neck and shoulders. I can’t help but laugh as he kisses my worries away.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Nicola
Three weeks pass by in a flash. Three glorious, beautiful weeks. There are some more shifts at work, I’ve bought a sewing machine and some fabric with the extra cash, the weather is starting to get warmer and Ava has become obsessed with bugs (thank you A Bug’s Life). But for the most part, these three weeks have been one naked, hazy, sweat-slicked sex fest.
Bram is insatiable and the more he screws me every which way, the more insatiable I’ve become in return. Every single moment that we’re alone, he’s inside me – cock, tongue, fingers – and I’m starting to feel like the sexual goddess he keeps saying I am. It makes me wonder how I’ve even survived for so long without this in it. I understand now why sex is so goddamn important to people – it gives us life, it makes us feel more alive.
And it brings us connection. It’s not just a fuck or a shag. It’s not just orgasms and exploring each other’s bodies. We’re exploring each other’s souls as well. I know that’s a cheesy way to think about things, but it’s true. The more I sleep with Bram, the more we talk, the more we don’t even need to talk. We just feel each other on this other level, this current of intimacy that’s scary as hell but addicting all the same.
Naturally, I don’t know if he feels the same way that I do. That I’m falling. Bit by bit. That I feel like I understand him on levels I didn’t think possible. But I at least know that sometimes I catch him looking at me and it’s like he thinks I’m magic.
I keep thinking back to what my mother said about that, to never let it go once you’ve found it. God forbid anything from trying to derail what we are and where we might be headed, but I have no intentions of ever letting go.
The only hiccup in the last few weeks is that while I’ve been busier with more shifts, Bram has been busier with more meetings with the city, organizations, and investors. It’s great that his idea is going full-steam ahead, but it does mean we don’t see each other as much as we used to. It’s usually just nights and that’s probably why we cling to each other in the sex-soaked fog like we do.
Tonight though, it’s Monday and I don’t have to work. Bram’s free this evening, so he’s bringing over some Thai takeout for us. Even though takeout food is the worst thing for Ava, he goes out of his way to make sure she has steamed
rice and vegetables with no msg and nothing but a little soy sauce, just so she won’t feel left out.
The three of us are sitting around my kitchen table and I’m currently fanning my mouth with my hand because I think I got a load of chilies in my bite of Pad Thai. Bram is watching me with amusement, perhaps even more amused than normal.
“Sorry I don’t have a tongue of steel,” I tell him, slurping back a gulp of white wine to cool the burn.
He lets out a small laugh. “It’s hot even for me.” He looks at Ava then back at me. “Do you girls want to hear something fun?”
“Yes!” Ava says enthusiastically.
Since he included both of us in that question, I figure it can’t be perverted. And so, I’m intrigued.
“What?” I ask, putting my chopsticks down.
Now he’s grinning to himself, like he’s about to tell a joke and is already laughing at the punchline.
“Bram,” I remind him, “what’s fun?”
“Okay, okay,” he says, biting his lip. He’s so damn handsome sometimes I forget my own name. He goes on, “How would you two like to go on a little adventure together?”
“Are we going to IKEA?” Ava asks.
“We are never going to IKEA again,” I tell her. “That’s a bad word in this house now.”
She pouts a little but eyes Bram expectantly.
“Definitely not going there,” he says. “But we are going somewhere that Ava has probably dreamed about going. I must warn you though, little one, you must be brave.”
Her eyes widen, but she nods, serious. “I can be brave. I get the ouchies, I am brave.”
He leans closer to her and whispers, “There are giant bugs there.”
“Bugs!” she cries out. “Oh, I want to see the giant bugs.”
Okay, I have no idea what he’s talking about but I totally don’t want to see any giant bugs.
“Are we going camping?” I ask him, trying not to shudder.
“No,” he says. “But before you say anything, just know that I’ve booked you off the next four days from work.”