by Rexi Lake
Chapter Eleven
Tucker pulled up in front of Olivia’s building. She might have intended the information for different purposes at first, but he was glad that she’d not only found a way to apologize, but that she’d also understood what she did wrong in the first place. And she seemed to be genuinely ready to turn over a new leaf and embrace this life she was thrown into. He walked up the steps to her apartment and knocked on the door.
He heard footsteps on the other side as she approached, followed by the sound of a chain being released, then a deadbolt, and finally a doorknob lock. He smiled to himself. Safety was definitely in place for her. He wasn’t prepared for how she looked when she opened the door though.
Her hair was down instead of up in the ponytail she wore at work. That was the first thing that caught his eye. Those pretty red locks framed her face and fell to below her shoulders. The ends brushed against the rounded curves of her breasts and made him wonder how she’d respond to a featherlight touch when she was naked. Her bright green eyes were lined in black, but so minimally that it only enhanced the natural brightness. Her lips were full, but this time they were red. Not cherry red. They were a deeper shade, like the skin of a red delicious apple perfectly colored by nature. Her dress was soft cotton. He could see that it clung to her curves and made him ache to stroke her skin in every spot the fabric touched. When he saw her shoes, he chuckled. She was wearing her tennis shoes that she wore to work.
“I don’t have any heels, and I wasn’t sure if we’d be walking or not,” she said, blushing.
“They’re perfect,” he told her. “They absolutely fit you and your outfit and this evening.” He hoped his words reassured her. He too was wearing tennis shoes, and his jeans that he wore every day. Although, they were freshly washed, and one of his newer pairs that hadn’t gotten worn in yet. He’d also donned a button up shirt in a light blue color. His mother swore it complimented his eyes. But truthfully, it was probably one of the few she could find in his size without special ordering it. He’d left the top two buttons undone and the sleeves were rolled up to just above his forearms. It was difficult to find things that fit his build, but that just meant he had to adjust to what there was.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked.
“Um, yes.” She looked behind her and grabbed a light jacket and a small clutch that had her keys attached to it, and probably her phone inside. “Yes,” she said again.
“All right then, let’s go.” He held the door while she stepped into the hall, then pulled it shut and waited for her to secure the deadbolt and doorknob locks.
“So, can you tell me where we’re going, or is it a secret?” she asked.
“No secret,” he answered her. “I just don’t have a destination for us yet.”
“So, what are we doing then?” she asked, confused.
He grinned and pulled her with him onto the sidewalk in front of her building. “We’re going to take a walk around your new neighborhood and see what appeals to us,” he said.
“Is that a normal thing to do?” she asked, looking around.
“Not necessarily. Some people choose before they go out. But since I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat, other than apple cinnamon cookies, I thought this would be a nice chance to learn more about each other.”
“Oh,” she said, the simple word full of wonderment that he could hear despite the single syllable.
He smiled and laced their fingers together. “Let’s see what we can enjoy tonight,” he told her.
She smiled and walked along with him as they made their way down Church Street. She looked into the windows of the small boutiques and restaurants. Each had its own unique style, but all of them were creative and artistic. Tucker had a feeling that she hadn’t often left the high-end boutiques and designer stores to explore the artistic side of New York. Tribeca was an artist’s haven. The giant warehouses were converted into brightly lit and spacious lofts to appeal to the art and music people. Creatives could easily make space for their work as well as living in the apartments and condos built into the former warehouses.
“What’s appealing to you?” he asked after a few blocks of letting her look around.
“There’s so much,” she said. “I don’t even know where to start.”
He laughed. “I guess it would be a bit overwhelming. How about food first? What’s your favorite kind of food?”
“It would have to be a toss up between Chinese and Mexican,” she answered. “We had a housekeeper that was from Guadalajara, Mexico for a time when I was younger. She used to make the most amazing dishes. My favorites were her toritos. She would make them in tortillas and they were smothered in cheese. I haven’t found any place that makes them, although a few have similar dishes.”
He watched as her face lit up when she spoke about the food. “Guadalajara, huh? Have you ever been to Mexico?” he asked. He pulled her around a corner and onto another street. He remembered a Mexican restaurant being nearby, though he’d never tried their food.
“No. I’ve been to Europe a few times with my father when he went for business trips. And Canada, of course, since it’s not too far away. But the closest I’ve gotten to Mexico is a layover in the Dallas airport.”
“I was there once a few years ago. We were looking at some of the fruits that thrived in warmer climates. Apples are our main production, but we also have a greenhouse and an acre dedicated to growing other fruits and vegetables for our own use.”
“Your own use?” she asked, confused. “I didn’t realize you lived at the farm and worked there.”
He pulled her to a stop. “Olivia, I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?” she frowned, concern crossing her features.
“I’m Tucker Hart.”
It took a moment and then she slapped her free hand over her eyes. “Oh my God.” She groaned and blushed. “I should have put that together. Especially after yesterday morning.”
Tucker grinned. He reached out and pulled her hand from her face. “You really didn’t know?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I feel like an idiot right now.”
“No, don’t do that. I just honestly thought you knew. You seemed to just go with it when I was telling you about my family making apple recipes.”
“I don’t know why I didn’t think about it. I guess since you deliver the apples, I figured you probably have history with the farm just by being from that area and working there. Don’t workers at farms tend to be generational things?” She asked. She grimaced. “I don’t mean to downplay the work.”
“No,” he stopped her and shook his head. “You’re right about that. A lot of our employees are second and third generation. Being the biggest employer in the area has a lot to do with it, but a sense of tradition plays into it too. And pride. Even if they don’t own the land, they’ve worked it with us and there’s a lot of pride in our town for the apples we grow.”
“Hart Farms. Tucker Hart. Apple recipes.” She sighed. “I still feel a little foolish here.”
He grinned. She looked fucking adorable right then. Looking up at him with that little wry twist in her smile. He pulled her against him in a strong hug. “Don’t worry about it. Now you know.”
“Oh, God,” she said again, giggling. “And here I thought you were just the delivery man.”
“There’s that perception of yours that needs some fine-tuning,” he told her. “Not everything is as it appears on the outside.”
“I really am a society princess, aren’t I?” she sighed. Her words were not encouraging.
“You were,” he corrected. “But we’re going to introduce you to the finer things in life - like amazing Mexican food here in Tribeca.” He turned her around and pointed to the small door he’d spotted across the street. The sign above it read: Margarita’s.
“Oh!” She exclaimed. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
“Come on, Red. Let’s see if they have your toritos. At the very least, I’m sure w
e can get some decent salsa and queso. There’s nothing better than some fresh salsa.”
They crossed the street and were seated in a small corner table. It was only a moment before they were served the fresh salsa and chips that seemed to be the traditional appetizer of many Mexican restaurants.
“I’ll take a margarita,” Tucker told their server when he asked what they would have to drink. “Would you like one too?” he asked Olivia.
She bit her lip. She hadn’t planned on drinking any alcohol. But maybe one drink would help her relax a little. “May I get a strawberry margarita?” she asked.
“Sí, miss. I will have those out en un momento.” The older man who had introduced himself as Juan walked back to the kitchen.
Tucker picked up his menu, but he watched Olivia instead of looking for what he wanted to eat. She was scanning the menu with determination. He wasn’t sure they would have what she wanted, but she had said she enjoyed Mexican food as a whole, not just the toritos that she’d had as a kid. He was still watching her when Juan returned with their margaritas and waters.
“Are you ready to order?” he asked.
Tucker waited until Olivia looked over at him and he raised a brow. “Do you know what you want?” he asked.
She nodded and turned to their server. “I’ll have the carnitas chimichangas with an extra side of sour cream.”
Tucker waited while Juan wrote her order, then placed his for the same dish but with chicken. “Can we also have a cup of your queso to go with our chips?” he added after Juan finished writing.
“Of course. I will bring that ahora. Y tus chimichangas will be a few minutos.” Juan’s mixture of Spanish and English words were easy to understand. Tucker knew many of the seasonal workers’ first language was Spanish and they had often spoken both languages while they worked. Tucker had tried to learn several times, but despite the best efforts of the men attempting to teach him, Tuck just didn’t have a tongue for speaking it. His Spanish was rudimentary at best, but he could understand it unless it was spoken with the rapid-fire way his friend Jorge used it when he got angry.
He watched Olivia take a sip of her margarita. “How does it taste?” he asked, raising his own glass for a drink.
“It’s wonderful,” she answered. She looked around the small restaurant and then back at him. “So, now what?” she asked.
He laughed lightly. “Now, we talk. For instance, why don’t you tell me about your day. How has it been since you decided to try enjoying things?”
She blushed. “Um. It was good,” she answered. “Lola let me try to bake something else, but that didn’t go so well. I didn’t burn them this time. But I put too much cinnamon into the fritters and it was overpowering to say the least.” She pulled her mouth into a grimace and stuck her tongue out.
Tuck laughed. “Yeah, cinnamon is a spice that can easily be too much. My grandmother used to say only use half of what you think you need. You can always add more, but you can never add less once it’s in.”
“Yeah, I can understand that. I don’t even think the birds or raccoons will be trying to eat those from our trash.”
“But you did try,” Tuck reminded her. “And next time, you’ll know.”
She nodded. “I guess there’s a lot of trial and error with baking.”
“There’s a lot of trial and error in life,” he told her. “But if you don’t go for it, you’ll never know if it would be an error or not.”
“I guess that makes sense.” She smiled and took another sip of her drink.
Tucker wanted to lean across the table and taste her lips where the tiniest bit of liquid clung after she lowered the glass. Instead, he was treated to the tip of her tongue darting out to catch those drops and it made him ache to feel that against his cock instead. He shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable. It didn’t help.
“What about you, Tucker? How was your day?” she asked.
Chapter Twelve
By the time dinner ended, Olivia was more than ready to leave the small, public restaurant. Throughout the meal she’d caught the way Tucker was staring at her with that slightly hooded gaze that seemed to devour her. Her heart was racing as he paid their bill and took her hand. The slightly cooler night air was a welcome freshness against her skin.
“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning down to her. “You look a little flushed.”
She looked up and swore her cheeks heated even more. “I’m fine,” she murmured. Talking about their days had been the easy part of the conversation. Then they’d switched to likes. When he’d murmured that he was looking forward to discovering some of her other likes in private later, her brain had faltered and the rest of the time she’d been back and forth wondering what he would do, what he would like, and still trying to maintain a conversation.
“Would you like to do some more window shopping, or should we return to your apartment and pick up where we left off yesterday?” he asked.
Her stomach did a flip and her mouth felt suddenly dry. She swallowed and then answered. “I think I want to pick up where we left off,” she replied.
She watched his eyes darken at her words and the easy smile that she’d seen all night became predatory as his gaze dove into hers. He pulled her hard against him and she could feel the hard length of his cock. She shivered. She wasn’t the only one who’d gotten worked up over dinner.
“If I kiss you here, I’m going to end up fucking you against the wall for everyone to see,” he told her. His lips were a hair's breadth from hers. So close, she could almost feel them but it was a phantom touch. And it only ignited her fires more.
“I guess we better grab a cab instead of walking,” she answered, lifting her eyelashes and meeting his gaze.
He spun away from her and raised a hand. Immediately a taxi pulled to the curb and they climbed in. Tucker gave her address with a briskness that surprised her. His hand clamped on her knee, his fingers gently teasing where her legs met as she squeezed them together.
Not five minutes later and they were in front of her building. Tucker paid the driver while she climbed out and started up the steps. She wanted the door open before he reached her, otherwise they might not make it out of the hallway.
She was right. She had just twisted the key in the second lock and turned the knob before he was right behind her. She pushed open the door and spun around, closing it and being pressed back against it as Tucker lifted her in his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist.
“Hard and fast or slow it down?” he growled, pressing his lips against the pulse point at her throat. His fingers dipped below her dress and found the soaked triangle of cotton that barely covered her pussy. He pushed it to the side and stroked his fingers slowly between the lips of her pussy. Each time he neared her clit, he would circle it, but never touch.
“Fast,” she gasped, her body arching at the hot suction at her throat and the teasing between her legs. He pulled his hand from her dripping body and she felt him shift. She ground her pussy against his jean-covered cock, feeling the coarse fabric rub against her clit made her ache even more. “Fast and now,” she demanded. Her arms went around his neck and she slid her fingers into his hair.
He wrapped on hand under her ass and lifted her higher while his other hand pulled out his cock for her. “Shit, baby. I need to get the condom on first.” He started to lower her to the ground.
She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist and shook her head. “I’m on the pill, and clean,” she told him. She didn’t want another second to pass. She needed him inside her. And something told her this was right. He was right.
He paused for a moment. “How long?” he asked.
“I haven’t been with anyone for a year before you,” she admitted.
Her last boyfriend had cheated, which had led her to get tested in the first place. No one had struck her as a potential until Tucker walked into her life.
“It’s been eight months for me,” he admitted. “But I’ve only ever worn pr
otection.”
“I trust you,” she told him.
He stared into her eyes for a long moment, then he carefully lowered her until the head of his cock was poised at the entrance of her pussy. She whimpered, the need building up inside her. He slowly pushed in and she moaned at the heat and strength of his cock as it parted her lips and forged into her dripping channel.
“Fuck,” she murmured as her eyes rolled back and she tipped her head against the door.
“Not yet, but I’m about to,” he promised. That dark tone rumbled through her and she shivered as he wrapped both hands around her waist and pulled her down onto his cock in one smooth stroke.
“Ugh!” She groaned as the walls of her pussy contracted around his cock.
“So fucking tight, baby. You’re gripping my cock like a fucking glove,” he muttered. He leaned forward, pressing her harder into the door and pulling her hips down more until she didn’t think there was anything that separated them.
One hand left her hip to wrap in her hair and he pulled her head to his. Their lips met in a clash of hot, hungry need. He stroked her tongue with his and she sucked on it hard. Her hips rotated in the tiniest of increments and she tightened her pussy on his cock as she tried to tease him into losing control.
The hand at her hip gripped her hard enough that she knew there would be bruises later. She didn’t care though. As his teeth bit her lip, his hips rocked backwards and slammed forward. Her ass slapped against the door with a rhythmic cadence as he fucked her with long, hard strokes. The kind that sent his cock rubbing against all the right places inside her and made every movement a tease that drove her high up on that edge of desire until she was standing right on the precipice and waiting to tumble down or fly high.