Rekindle

by Ashley Suzanne

  “In here,” I summon, taking another long drink of my coffee then setting it on the counter.

  “I hope we’re not late,” she says, appearing around the corner and pulling her ponytail tighter. We? Who’s we? Unless … maybe she picked up Jones or vice versa.

  “Tony, get in here, I need help with my bed,” I say, waiting for him to show his face. Confused when I don’t see him, I walk into the living room, adjusting my tee shirt, hating that the only thing I didn’t pack was the shirt I wore in a wet tee shirt contest for charity. I know, don’t judge me. It was for kids.

  “One of these for me?” Nick asks, catching me off guard. His eyes slowly scan my body and I heat under his gaze. Dammit. Who invited him?

  “Uh, sure,” I mutter, backing up until I reach the entryway into the kitchen. “I’ll be right back. Thanks for coming to help.” As soon as I finish my statement, I flip around, narrowing my stare at Frankie. “Care to explain what Nick’s doing here?”

  Poor Lacy looks like she’s about to have a heart attack. She knows how I feel about people in the house knowing who Nick is to me, and she looks conflicted—does she go say hello to Dakota’s Godfather, or does she act like she has no idea who he is?

  “Oh, I hope it’s not a problem. I mentioned the other day I was helping you move and he asked if we needed another guy. I wasn’t sure, but I knew you invited Tony, so I thought it was a house thing. I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

  “No, it’s fine. He just scared the hell out of me. I thought you came with Tony and then walking out there and seeing Nick just freaked me out, that’s all. Thanks for thinking ahead. We might be able to use him, at least until Carl, Lacy’s fiancé, gets off work,” I back-peddle, not trying to look like an ass when all she wanted to do was help. Plus, if I keep up this attitude about Nick, she’s going to catch on. Frankie might be young, but she’s not stupid.

  At the perfect time, Nick strolls into the kitchen with a coffee in hand, smiling sweetly at Frankie. Lacy’s eyes flash to me, anger behind her beautiful green irises, like she wants to tackle him on the marble floor, but I nod my head, disguising my own frustrations to calm her down. Lacy’s like a momma bear—screw with one of hers and you’re going down. Hard.

  “Where do we start? You said something about your bed?” The mischievous grin on his face doesn’t go unnoticed by me, or Lacy for that matter. Pulling a screwdriver from the drawer, I roughly slap it against his chest and direct him to my room to take apart the frame and headboard. “I’ve been told I’m pretty good with headboards,” he tells me before walking to my room and I pull a sweater over my head to disguise my flushed cheeks.

  Within the hour, all of my boxes and bedroom furniture are loaded in the truck. All done by Nick, nonetheless. Checking my watch, I start to worry about Jones when he pulls in front of the house.

  “Sorry, guys. Got stuck with my mom. She wasn’t feeling good,” he says, coming up the walk and doing some kind of man high five thing with Nick. Shaking my head in their direction, I close the back of the small moving truck and move to get in the driver’s seat when Nick stops me.

  “I’ll drive. This way you can take your car. See, I can be useful.” Raising a brow, I wait for the innuendo that’s sure to follow, but surprisingly, he takes the keys from my hand and climbs in the truck. Shrugging my shoulders, I get in my own car, rolling down the window slightly.

  “You’re good, Tony. Follow us to the apartment. Unloading should be pretty easy.” I didn’t realize how much I didn’t have until I watched Nick make a few trips and had me all loaded so quickly. I know everyone’s relieved I’m not a hoarder or anything, but to me, it’s depressing.

  First order of business after getting unpacked and settled, and maybe a shower and a nap, I’m going to start buying stuff. I don’t really care what kind of stuff, just things that take up space.

  *****

  Just as quick as everything was loaded at Lacy’s, it’s unloaded even quicker with the extra help. Telling everyone bye and thanking them for helping today, I shut and lock the door behind me. Flopping on the second-hand, ratty sofa, I close my eyes for a brief moment. Looking around, I smile. There’s nothing special about my small one bedroom apartment, but to me, it’s everything. For the first time, I really feel like an adult. I have a job I love, I make good money, and I finally have my own place. It’s … freeing.

  Deciding I’ll wait until tomorrow or maybe the next day to unpack and get situated, I grab my phone from my purse and a towel from one of the boxes marked ‘bathroom’. Strolling, yes, I’m strolling, toward the back of the apartment, I glance in my bedroom and smile again. The mattress is right on the hardwood floors, the frame propped in the corner by the closet, the blankets in a bag at the foot of the bed. It’s perfect.

  Clicking open my music app, I select a calming station and let the sultry sounds of Banks plays through the bathroom as I turn on the shower. Flipping my head upside down, I tangle my hair in a haphazard knot at the top. Peeling my yoga pants and shirt from my body, I fling them in the corner where when I’m finally unpacked, I’ll have a laundry basket right there. Praying I can find a box with clothes when I’m done, not really caring if I don’t because this is my place and I can walk around naked if I want, I test the water temperature and step over the edge of the tub.

  Letting the water wash over my exhausted body, I continue smiling until I hear the front door open and close. Seeing as the only people with keys are me and Lacy, I assume it’s her bringing me dinner or some other motherly act. “I’m in the shower. Give me ten!” I yell over the sound of the rushing water. I’m not sure if she responds, but I don’t hear anything.

  Washing and rinsing my body as quickly as I can to avoid being rude to Lacy, I’m out of the shower in less than the ten I promised. Blindly, I pull open the curtain and reach for my towel only to run hand first into a solid chest. Opening my eyes, Nick’s dark, hooded eyes are the first things I see.

  “What the fuck, Nick?” I ask, pissed off. Forcefully shutting the curtain, I nearly pull it off the rod. “Come on,” I groan, taking the towel he offers through the small slit near the wall.

  “Noticed you didn’t have any food. Wanted to see if you wanted to get some dinner. Martinez and Jones are headed to Hard Rock if you wanna go.”

  “And you thought the perfect time to ask was after seeing my goods?” God, the gall of this guy, thinking it’s perfectly acceptable to hang out in the bathroom after this stunt. If I thought what he pulled at the firehouse was bad, it’s only getting worse.

  “Ain’t like I’ve never seen them before. Calm down,” he says, casual like this is any other day and we’re just chatting over coffee.

  “Listen,” I firmly demand his attention, stepping out of the shower after I confirm all my parts are fully covered. “This has to stop, Nick. I get it, we have history. Yes, you’ve seen it all before, but you don’t get to see it anymore. You don’t get to walk in my apartment unannounced and you sure as fuck don’t get to stand in my damn bathroom when I’m naked. Let me rephrase, you’re not to stand in any bathroom when I’m showering. It’s creepy and annoying as hell.” With my hands on his chest, I shove him into the hall and slam the door, only his foot stops it.

  “Christ, Nick. What do I have to do to get you to leave me alone?” I ask, a pleading tone to my voice. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over Nick, but since I’ve walked back into his life, it’s like he’s determined to remind me every single second why I fell in love with him. But nothing’s changed. He’s not changed.

  “You want me to leave you alone, Christina?” Nick takes a step toward me and I take one backward. We repeat this process until my back is flush with the wall behind me.

  “Yes,” I hoarsely whisper, staring at his chest. Anything to avoid eye contact.

  “You sure?” He runs the back of his knuckles across my cheek and down my neck. Lazily dragging his fingers across my collar bone, toying with my necklace, I feel this incredible pull to look
up and when I do, I’m lost and pretty much done for.

  “Nick,” I breathe. “This has to stop. We’re done.”

  “Are we? I didn’t get much of a say. I never said I was done.” His eyes bore into me and ignite feelings I’ve suppressed for so long.

  “You signed the papers,” I mutter, trying to step around him to relieve the tension, except he follows my movements, effectively trapping me between him and the wall.

  “What would you have liked me to do, Tina? Huh? Beg you not to leave me? Tell you I needed you? That I didn’t know what I’d do without you?”

  “Yes!” I scream, smacking his chest. “That’s exactly what you should have done, dammit.” Anger and frustration flood my system and I’m seeing red. How dare he? How fucking dare he throw this shit in my face now? He had his chance. He had the opportunity to fix all of this. “You should have fucking fought, Nick. For us. For me.”

  I barely finish my rant when the hand on my collar bone travels to the back of my neck, pulling me toward him and his lips slam into mine. Instead of fighting him with my words, I use my kiss to say everything I need to say. There’s nothing sweet and kind about this kiss. It’s rough, angry, and violent. Our teeth clashing, tongues battling for control. Grabbing on to his longer than usual hair, I pull to the point he begins retreating, and with the other hand on the back of his neck, I keep him in place.

  It’s been two years since I’ve felt his lips on mine and I’m not stopping for anything right now. I need this. And he’s returning my need. He tugs the hair at the base of my scalp, his teeth bite down on my bottom lip. His erection presses into my stomach and I climb his body, not giving a single fuck about the towel that’s falling down my body as I desperately try to get closer … get away … get closer. I don’t even know what I’m doing at this point, I just … need.

  “Fuck,” he groans in my mouth and it sets me on fire. Nick grabs on to the back of my thighs, pulling me further up his body, squeezing to the point of delicious pain and I return his groan with a moan of my own.

  With my towel pooled on the floor below me, Nick sits on the closed toilet lid, taking me with him. Letting go of his head, I run my hands down his defined chest and stop once I reach the fly of his jeans. Unbuttoning the top button, I’m halfway done with the zipper when his hands cover mine.

  “What are you doing?” he asks, breathing heavy and eyes reflecting as much need as I feel.

  “Now you wanna talk?” I lean forward and kiss his neck, just below his ear, scraping my teeth over the sensitive flesh.

  “Fuck it,” he responds, finishing the job of freeing himself. Palming his cock, I stroke as he gently thrusts his hips into my hand. Rising on my tiptoes, I align him at my sex and slowly take Nick inside me. The burn is almost too much to bear, but I remember—I remember exactly how good he feels when he’s fully seated. The way his body works with mine. The way I respond to him almost immediately.

  “God,” I moan, slowly moving myself up and down his cock until my wetness provides enough ease for me to completely sit. When he’s as far as he can go, I pause, continuing to place kisses on his neck and across the top of his chest.

  Shoving his hand back in my hair, he pulls tightly, painfully, wonderfully. With my head back, his tongue finds the center of my throat and licks a path up to my lips. And then he kisses me.

  A kiss I’ll never forget. No longer angry, no longer battling for control, no longer frustrated, our lips meld together like they did another lifetime ago. For a moment, no matter how brief, my Nick’s back and he’s loving me like he would have before everything went to shit. And for this brief moment, I’m going to live here and only here.

  CHAPTER NINE

  NICK

  I have no fucking idea what’s going on. One minute I’m going back up to Tina’s apartment to see if she wants to grab dinner with me, Martinez and Jones, and the next I’m in her bathroom and we’re fucking on the toilet. How … I can’t even explain it. But do I really have to? Should I be questioning anything when I have a gorgeous woman, one who is so tight I’d find it hard to believe she’s been with anyone else since we divorced, slowly grinding on my dick?

  Nope. I’m going with it. If only for tonight, I’m taking the metaphorical bull by the horns and am going to fuck it stupid.

  With Christina still impaled on my dick, I rise and carefully walk with her wrapped around my waist to the bedroom. Cautiously, I kneel on the lone mattress, thanking God I’ve been putting in extra hours at the gym to keep from screwing bar bitches and getting some strange strand of herpes. I rear back, staring at all the beauty before me.

  Nothing about her has changed. I watch her dilated pupils scan my body, approval shining through and if possible, my cock gets even harder. Slightly pulling out of her warm depths, I wait a moment and roughly thrust, her tits shaking with the force and her bottom lip automatically going between her teeth. Just like she always did.

  For so long, every time I witnessed this exact scene, it was always a memory taking place of a fantasy. And now that it’s real—tangible—I’m not ready for it to end, but I’m pretty sure if she mews one more time, or grabs at my hips to pull me deeper again, I’m going to break apart.

  “Nick. Please,” she cries, her walls clamping down on my dick. Rolling my eyes back in my head, I think of anything else possible.

  Mack’s dirty socks in his locker. Mrs. Crandall walking around outside without a bra. Signing my divorce papers. Hemingway licking Mrs. Crandall’s cat’s ass.

  Nothing. Just like every other time I’ve wanted to prevent myself from coming like a teenager, nothing works and all I can focus on is the softness my dick’s buried inside of and the sexy woman staring up at me, begging me for more. Who am I to deny her?

  Resting on my calves, I slowly, almost torturously slow, thrust in and out of her tight body, my orgasm on the brink and hers not too far off, either. Cupping her perfectly shaped tits in each hand, I manipulate her nipples with my fingers and squeeze just enough to have her squirming and arching herself into me, desperately trying to get closer and find her release.

  “Fuck,” I growl, slowing my pace even more to make this last just a little while longer. Once she realizes she’s fucking the man she hated enough to divorce, she’s never going to let me inside of her again. If this is the only time I get, I’m going to make it worth it.

  Banging distracts me and I look up to the headboard to figure out what I need to put behind it to stop the noise when I notice there is no headboard. Glancing around, there’s nothing in the room that would cause the banging and I’m fully distracted.

  “What the hell is that?” I ask, never stopping my hips from driving into hers.

  “What?” she breathes, opening her eyes, and I’m sure she’s losing the orgasm that was so close I could feel the ripples starting deep within her.

  “The banging? Where’s it coming from?” Tina props herself up on her elbows and stares with wide eyes toward the hallway.

  “The door,” she whispers, scooting back and releasing her hold on my dick. “Someone’s here.”

  Pulling off my tee shirt, I force it over her head and stand up. Adjusting myself and zipping my fly, I step into the hallway and confirm the banging is coming from the front door. “Stay here. I’ll see who it is.” I continue until I’m right at the door and look back in time to see Tina scurry into the bathroom.

  “Who is it?” I ask, looking out the peep hole but see nothing but darkness.

  “Me,” Jones’s voice carries through the thick wooden door. Tina appears at my side, attempting to brush down her starting to curl locks. Making sure she’s decent, and surprisingly she’s wearing my shirt and a pair of black pants, I open the door just a crack and peek out.

  “What’s up, man? Said I’d meet you guys there, right? Did I screw up?” I ask, but really want to tell him to go the fuck away and stop cock blocking.

  “It’s been a while. We were worried,” Martinez speaks up, stepping around f
rom behind Jones.

  “Oh, give us fifteen and we’ll meet you there.” I really don’t need all that long. I was just about there, anyway. If they would have just waited five more minutes …

  “We’re here now, how about we all ride together?” Frankie asks, looking up at Jones who nods his head.

  “Alright. I just need a minute to find some decent clothes,” Tina says, walking toward a stack of boxes in the dining room. I smile at our coworkers and invite them inside. Stepping out of the way, I give them dirty looks as they pass.

  Tina’s in and out of her room in a matter of seconds, still wearing the black pants but a shirt that fits her a little better than mine. Tossing it back to me, she smiles sheepishly and ushers her guests out the door. Deciding to take two cars, Jones pulls me to his car, saying something about not wanting to be alone with Frankie anymore tonight and the girls get into Tina’s beat up old car. I’m pissed, wondering if Tina and I could have taken a small detour and finished what we already started, but saying anything would only raise questions she doesn’t want to answer.

  Inside the small restaurant, we all order and wait for our food in silence. A few times the girls giggle about something, but all in all, it’s a quiet night. After we finish our dinner, I wait for Tony to offer Frankie a ride home so I can be alone with Tina some more, but that never happens. And again, I can’t say anything about it.

  “Well, guys, thanks for taking me out. I swear, I’ll go shopping tomorrow,” Tina jokes, pulling a few bills out of her wallet and everything in me wants to tell her to stop and let me pay. When I open my mouth to do just that, she glares at me, as if she’s aware of what I’m thinking. So I pull out a few dollars for my meal as well and stand alongside Tina.

  “Christina, can you give me a ride back to my car? It’s at your place,” Frankie asks and Jones looks relieved.

  “Works out great. Nick only lives a few blocks from me, anyway,” Jones says, smiling at the women.