by Violet Haze
“So you felt a connection?”
Oh, if they only knew.
But I already told them about the dreams and, friends or not, I don’t want to end up in a psych ward because they decide I’ve lost my mind. So I admit what I can. “Yeah, I guess you could call it that.”
“Yay!” She grins, practically bouncing up and down in her seat. “This is—I’m so happy for you!”
“Me too.” Dexter speaks softly. “He’s a good guy, and he seems to really like you.”
I put on a happy face for both of them in response to that. Again, if they only had any idea of how he really felt; about how deep our connection went.
How much his declaration has me flustered.
“Also, I’m glad you look better.” Dexter gives me a once over. “You worried us the other day.”
“Thanks, I am fine.” Well, it’s partially true. “So, how are you guys doing? Enjoy having more room to yourselves?”
The topic changes easily and while they chatter away, reassuring me that they’d take me over free space any day, I’m left to think about what they said.
And wonder if I’ll ever feel for Tobias the way my friends described.
What scares me is that I don’t know the answer to the question…and how much I wish I did.
CHAPTER SEVEN
One long work week involving repairs and upgrades — along with an early bedtime on Friday night thanks to exhaustion — leads to a rude awakening on Saturday.
The blankets are pulled off me, Tobias demanding, “Get up, sleepyhead! I’ve got plans for you.”
“Do they involve breakfast in bed with a side of sex?” I mumble as I use my pillow to block out the bright light. “Because if not…go away.”
“Nah.” He pauses, then, “You’re not really a morning person are you?”
Gee, he’s just figuring that out?
“Too early.” Leave me to sleep, I wail in my head. “I’m tired.”
“It’s eleven in the morning!”
His voice is tinged with amusement, but I’m just feeling grumpy.
“Any time before I want to get up is too early.” I clutch the pillow tighter to block out as much noise as possible as well. “Shoo.”
“Okay,” he replies, sighing. “You asked for it.”
With a firm grip, he grabs my bare feet by the ankles. My body tightens, the response instantaneous thanks to my intense fear of being tickled, something I hate more than being woken up before I’m ready.
“Shh.” He chuckles, sliding his hands up my calves, shocking the hell out of me as he begins massaging them simultaneously. “Relax.”
As he squeezes the muscles, I’m unable to prevent a moan from escaping, as my aching body gives way to his caring touch. Even though I sit more than my other employees get to during their shirts, standing most of my day is the usual way of things. I’m involved in everything, and twelve hours on your feet is a killer.
“Aren’t you glad you hired Nicole? I don’t even want to imagine how grumpy you were before you had another manager to assist.”
“You mean before I had a man that wouldn’t let me sleep? I was just fine, thank you.”
“I’m sorry,” he raises his voice a bit, laughing. “I can’t hear you from under that pillow.”
“Maybe you should clear your ears.”
“What?”
“I said—“
“Huh? Oh wait, I can hear you fine.” He slaps my ass out of nowhere, making me yelp in surprise. “Your naked body is distracting though.”
I take the pillow off my head and shove it to the side. When I try to roll over though, he has other ideas.
“Oh no you don’t.” Putting his hand into the middle of my back, he holds me down. “I’ve had a slight change of plans.”
I bet he has. But I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t mess with him a bit.
“Do they involve me going back to sleep?” I yawn as if bored. “If not, I’m not interested.”
He smacks my ass again.
“Hey!” I rise up on my elbows and glare at him over my shoulder. “What’s that for?”
“New rule,” he responds with a grin. “Anything I want to do is interesting.”
When I bust out laughing, he climbs onto the bed and slides up until his body covers mine, hands on each side of my head. His breath against my neck makes me want him closer, the simple knowledge of what’s coming turning me on.
“You’re so warm.” I lift my ass up, rubbing against his perfectly placed and ready for me cock, teasing, “Too bad I don’t have sex with men who rudely awaken me by stealing the blankets and leaving me out in the cold.”
“Aw,” he responds, his tone a bit mocking, “are you cold? Here. Let me warm you up.”
One hand leaves my line of vision as he holds himself up with the other. He grabs a pillow and tugs it out of sight, before returning with the hand and skimming it down my side. He grabs my hip.
“Lift up.”
Wanting — no, needing — his cock in me this instant, I do as he demands, lowering my forehead to the bed simultaneously. After sliding the pillow underneath my hips, he curves his body around mine as he guides himself to my entrance. Slipping the tip up and down the outside, he kisses the back of my neck and shoulders as I moan at his teasing.
“Do you want me to warm you up, babe?” He enters me, just the tip, before pulling back out, and I push back in response. “Beg me.”
I wiggle, enjoying the sharp intake of breath he takes, and tell him, “Fuck me, now.”
“That doesn’t sound like you begging.”
Smiling even though he can’t see me, I stretch my arms out, which naturally arches my back as I squirm against him as much as possible. “I want you to please fuck me now.”
“You are, without a doubt, the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met,” he informs me, “and I love you for it. I wouldn’t have you any other way than how you are: beautiful, intelligent and insanely obstinate.”
Before I can reply to him saying that, he enters me with one swift thrust. I gasp, clutching the sheets to anchor myself, his now free hand wrapping itself in my hair. He slowly pulls my head back, murmuring, “And mine. Can’t forget you belong to me.”
I whimper as he withdraws to the tip, crying out when he plunges back in once more.
“Do you belong to me Joce?” He pauses when our bodies are barely touching again, his grip on my hair firm as he tugs to keep my attention. “Tell me, love. Say it.”
It’s a weird moment to feel like crying, but I do.
I feel lost, even as I’ve never felt more present in my life.
Never felt more wanted or more desired.
His words call to a part of me I’m not sure I want to listen to right now. A place that tells me I do belong to him, when I’ve never felt as if I ever belonged to anyone, anywhere. Not even as a child, not even knowing how much my parents loved me — parents that I know now took in a little girl that nobody knew where she came from and treated her as their own.
Our connection is undeniable; our bodies made for each other.
And I love it and hate it all in one.
Because I can’t fight it and I’m not sure I should.
So, as a tear he can’t see rolls down my cheek and is absorbed into the sheets, I whisper, “I’m yours. All yours.”
“And I’m yours, love.” He releases my hair and I lower my head back to the bed as he grabs my hips with both hands. “All our lives, no matter when or where. And I’m all the more ecstatic I finally got to make you mine in every single fucking way possible.”
He buries himself to the hilt on the last word, my hips grasped tightly as he pulls back out and back in, over and over. Each stroke is ferocious; savage in its intensity, each stroke symbolic of the power we hold over each other. Him, unable to resist me, and I, unable to refuse him, our bodies moving together perfectly.
A hand snakes around to the front, toying with my clit, the pace of his thrusts in harmony with the
massage of his fingers. It’s all I can do to focus on the sweet pleasure of his hands on me, my orgasm building, his words flowing over me.
“The first night, it was all I could do to keep my hands off you long enough to eat.” All the way in, he pauses with a groan, pulling me tight against him and holding me there. “I told myself I should wait to have you as yourself, not disguised as Luna; when you knew who I was and how much you meant to me. However, I knew you wouldn’t let me in any other way.” He picks up the pace again, each thrust making it impossible for me to speak as my orgasm closes in. “The sex was fucking fantastic and when you bolted, I knew I’d do anything to get you into my bed permanently.”
He pulls out and flips me over, tossing the pillow aside as he places my feet on his shoulders. Holding me still with a grip on my legs, he sheaths his cock in my pussy once more, so fast and hard I can barely catch a breath.
“Oh god…Tobias…I’m…please…”
I know I’m incoherent, but every thrust, every plunge at a pace that seems impossible leaves me panting. And wanting it to never end.
I close my eyes as his fingers find my clit, his thumb stroking around and around until I’m frantic, my body instinctively tightening up as the impending orgasm hovers on the edge, just out of my reach.
“Please…”
I don’t know what I’m begging for, my fists clenching in the sheets as I open my eyes and catch Tobias’ gaze.
“I…” Swallowing, I lift my chin a little. “Please.”
He removes his fingers from my clit, using it to hold himself up as he leans forward, my legs still straight, and wraps his hand around my throat.
Just enough to restrict my breathing.
Enough for a sob to escape as he gazes at me, his desire blazing in his eyes as he thrusts, our bodies rubbing perfectly in send the pleasure soaring even higher. “Come with me, Joce. You ready?”
I don’t even get to answer as my orgasm spreads through me, the hand around my throat tightening as he strokes deep one last time and pauses, covering my mouth with his own as he moans into it. He pulls out and back in, hand continuing to grasp my neck as his tongue seeks entrance to my mouth and I let him in.
My legs fall to wrap around his waist and his hand leaves my throat. I wrap my arms around his neck as he cradles the back of mine, his kisses continuing to steal my breath as we lie connected, close as two people can be.
After a few moments, he pulls back and grins down at me. “Time for your surprise.”
I nod, because in this moment, I’m pretty sure I’ll follow this man anywhere.
A thought that doesn’t alarm me like it would have only a few weeks ago.
And has me smiling up at him, ready for anything he can throw at me.
~*~
“You’re taking me skating?”
As we get out of the car, he laughs. “Please tell me you know how to skate.”
“Are you kidding me? Of course I do.” I shut my door and walk over to him. “I’ll skate circles around you.”
I’m exaggerating a little. I haven’t been skating since I turned twelve.
“Ha. You can try. I’m a pro.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Sure you are.” Glancing around the parking lot, I comment, “It sure looks busy here today. Then again, it is Saturday.”
“Yep.” He puts his arm around me and squeezes. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you out of my sight.”
Within moments, we’re inside. After he pays for us and we get a ticket for skates, we head through the next set of doors.
As we turn right, my mouth drops open as everyone — my friends and his family — yell “Surprise!”
Confused, I stare at their smiling faces.
Tobias leans down and speaks into my ear. “Happy Birthday, Joce.”
I glance up at him, then back at them, before returning to his once more. “Um…”
He frowns. “What’s wrong?”
There’s no way to express what I feel to him in that moment.
Confused. Angry. Lost.
I take a step back. He attempts to tighten his hold, but I smack his hand away, turning around and running right back out the doors as tears blur my vision. I lean against the building as the memory of my last conversation with my father takes over.
“You lied to me!” I glare at him, pissed that he hid something like this from me all my life. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
His eyes begged me to understand. “You were just a little girl. You clung to your mother and I as if we were your lifelines. We weren’t sure if you remembered or not, but you were so happy. You adjusted with no issues, started school, made friends; we didn’t want to bring it up because you were ours in every way that counted.”
I stare down at the birth certificate in my hands, bile rising in my throat. “Is any of this true? My name? My birthdate?”
He shakes his head. “No. You told us your name was Jocelyn, so we kept that, but the rest, we gave to you. Your birthdate is the day we met you and you put your tiny little hands in ours. You needed a birthday.”
“How old am I?”
“You told everyone you were three; we had no reason to think differently. As far as I know, you’re eighteen. That’s all that matters.”
In that moment, I hate him. Hate him for keeping this from me, hate him and my mother for not thinking about how it would make me feel to know my whole life is made up because nobody could verify my identity, and hate him for thinking that what they thought was all that mattered. For him still thinking that’s all that matters.
“It’s not all that matters,” I scream. “I’m a made up name, with a made up birthday! I hate you for saying that.”
“Luna. Honey…”
He tries to pull me into his arms, but I slam my fists against his shoulders. “No! Don’t touch me! I hate you.”
Whirling around, I leave before he can say anything else.
Before I say anything else I might regret.
Tobias’ familiar scent surrounds me as he crouches down beside me, wrapping me in his arms.
As sobs rack my body, I hate myself in this moment; for ruining his surprise, for continuing to be hurt and angry over something my father couldn’t help, and for wishing I had the answers I’m never going to get.
“I—I’m sorry,” I choke out when I can finally speak.
“Shh.” He strokes a hand down my hair, kissing the top of my head. “I’m not angry, just worried. Tell me what I did wrong.”
Shaking my head, I lift my eyes to look into his. “N-nothing. I…I don’t celebrate my birthday b-because it’s not real.”
It takes him a moment, but I see the realization dawn in his gaze, in his face. He grits his teeth, lifting a hand to wipe away the tear sliding down my cheek, whispering, “Now I’m the sorry one.”
I can’t even smile, my lower lip quivering. “Did I ruin the party?”
“Nah. They just wanna know you’re okay.” He stands up slowly, taking me with him. Once we’re both on my feet, he takes my hand in his. “I can send them a message telling them to hide all the stuff and get rid of the presents.”
He pulls out his phone and I cover it with my free hand. “No, don’t do that. We’ll tell them they shocked me is all.”
“Are you sure? They’ll understand if I explain.”
I nod, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I don’t want to ruin their fun. Although, I’m surprised Iris and Dexter didn’t tell you I don’t celebrate it.”
He laughs as we walk back toward the doors. “Oh they did. It was my fault I didn’t listen.”
“You? Not listen? I’m shocked.”
He smacks my ass, then pulls me against him, kissing my temple. “Take two?”
“Yep.”
We re-enter, hand in hand.
I see the curiosity on everyone’s faces and smile brightly. “Sorry all, you shocked the shit out of me!”
They all laugh and greet me with hugs.
Wh
en Tobias drags me over to get skates, I’ve a feeling the fun is just beginning.
CHAPTER EIGHT
After we’re all laced up, Tobias leads us both to the floor, hand in hand.
Even though it’s been over a decade since I last skated, it’s not long before I’ve found my rhythm. At first, Tobias is content to skate next to me, holding my hand, but I see the exact moment the part that wants to compete takes over.
He releases his hold, moving in front of me, and turning to face me as he skates backward. “Ready to skate circles around me, love?”
“Nah.”
“Come on.” He looks over his shoulder to make sure no one is behind him, then returns his mischievous gaze to me. “What about a race?”
I glance around, noticing every single other person here leaving the rink, and shrug. “Sure, why not? It seems like you planned it anyway.”
“Sure did.” Stopping as we round the corner, he lines up with the entrance to one side of the rink, and points to the ground. “We start right here. First person to reach it wins.”
With a nod, I smile sweetly and ask, “What’s the prize?”
“No prize.” He grins. “Just for the win.”
“Who is judging?”
Everyone has lined up around the wall and he points to the right of the starting line, where his mother stands next to Dexter.
“They are. One for both of us, so it’s fair.” He winks and positions himself. “Ready?”
“Now, now Toby. You know that’s my line!” His mother says with a laugh. “On three.”
“Yeah, Toby,” I jibe, ruining it with a snicker. “You picked the wrong person to race.”
“And you, love, underestimate how fast I am. I did run cross-country in high school, y’know.”
No, I didn’t, but he seems to be missing one important fact: “You know we’re skate-racing, not running, correct?”
“One!”
“Both require speed, don’t they?” He tosses me another wink. “See you at the end.”
“Two!”