Near To You

by King, Asha

  He’d just have to spend some time convincing her, then.

  A gentle nudge against her shoulders and she took the signal, moving back onto the bed to sit against the assortment of colorful pillows by the headboard. Brady stripped his T-shirt off first, pride warming him as her gaze openly roamed over his body; his cock went harder, something he scarce thought possible. His jeans he discarded next but left his boxer briefs, and climbed up the bed toward her.

  She shivered under his touch and he leaned down to kiss her again. Her back bowed, hands snaking around him, but he didn’t linger at her lips; instead he traced her jaw, her chin, her throat. He swiftly unhooked her bra and slipped it off, his lips diving down to catch her left nipple as her breasts fell free.

  Another moan and it was all he could do not to tear the rest of their clothes off. He held back, coiling his wants up into a tightly wound ball, and restrained it while he focused on her pleasure. His tongue teased her nipple into a hard peak, then he abandoned it for the other while she drove her fingers through his hair.

  “Brady,” she whispered in a throaty voice. He loved the sound of his name on her lips—how long had he dreamed of hearing it? All through high school, he’d never dreamed, though, that it would feel like this.

  Both hands came up to cup her breasts, rolling and teasing them, and then his lips descended. He trailed kisses and licks down her taut stomach to the band of her panties. A deep breath in and he inhaled her musk, her desire. He dragged her panties down and off her feet, then pressed his hands to her quivering inner thighs, parting them. Her big dark eyes watched him, quick, panting breaths leaving her kiss-swollen lips.

  His first lick pressed her clit; she arched and gasped, hands grasping the bedspread on either side of her hips. His tongue swept over her labia and then dipped between her folds. Each deliberate taste had her moving against him, hips lifting off the bed. She wouldn’t last long and it would only be the first of a few times he planned to see her come tonight, so he indulged.

  He drew one finger up, tracing her slit and taunting her, and then slipped inside the opening of her pussy. Her channel was slick, ready, and he could only imagine how it would feel to drive his cock into her at last. He brought a second finger to join the first, pumping into her, and glided his tongue back up to flick against her clitoris with quick, firm strokes.

  “Brady...” she breathed out again, her voice fading as she undulated against him. He glanced up, watching her tip her head back, imagined her eyes closed as she thrashed beneath his ministrations. She whimpered, hips rising steadily off the bed, then she cried out as her pussy clenched his fingers. She rode the wave of orgasm and then slumped on the bed, panting, shaking still.

  He kissed the inside of her left thigh, then the right. Pressed another to her hip. Damned if he wanted to let her rest awhile, but he didn’t think he could wait much longer to sheath himself in her at last.

  And after he had, he knew his plans to leave tomorrow might slip away entirely.

  ****

  Niara struggled to catch her breath and calm her rapidly beating heart. Her limbs felt weighted, and she couldn’t do much more than lie there sprawled. Eventually she got a hand up to swipe sweat-damp hair from her forehead and flickered her eyes open when she felt the mattress shift under Brady’s weight.

  He kissed her shoulder, then his lips moved over her collar bone and throat. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

  The pet named warmed her through and she felt a happy fluttering in her belly. “Mmm. Lovely.”

  “Good.” Another long, open-mouthed kiss on her throat. “You are.”

  God help her, but she almost believed it. She gazed at him, met his warm, dark blue stare, and scratch that, she did believe it. Believed him. A strange sort of realization opened up before her and she understood, then, what had been missing from her marriage—missing from her life. Regardless of Ron’s douchebag ways, there had never been this. He’d never looked at her as if she was beautiful, as if he sought her pleasure above all else. Even tonight over dinner, Brady Trewin had shown more interest in what she had to say than damn near any man ever had.

  He’d wanted her since high school and here, now, she had no sense that she lacked in any way, that she’d let down any of the expectations he had of her.

  And she wanted him to feel the same way.

  She nudged him over so he flopped against the pillows, grinning at her playfulness right until the moment she climbed over him to straddle his hips. Then his head tipped back and eyes went heavy-lidded as she rocked against his cock. Just the thin layer of his cotton boxer briefs separated him, but she rode up and down his huge, hard length, cradling him against her pussy.

  “God, Nia,” he whispered, hands gliding up her thighs, her belly, to her breasts. He lingered there a moment, electric currents rushing through her as his thumbs teased her nipples, then he reached up to her face and leaned up to kiss her.

  She enjoyed his mouth for a moment, tasting his soft lips, reveling in the contrast of his rough unshaven jaw against her smooth skin. But she didn’t linger, instead dragging kisses over his jaw and neck, down to the taut muscles of his chest. Head to toe he was any girl’s dream, and she could spend hours traveling his perfectly carved pecks and six-pack. A blushed touched her cheeks at her forwardness, but she swallowed back any nervous feelings and wrapped her fingers around his boxer-briefs to drag them down. His long, thick cock bobbed free and she felt fresh moisture between her legs—soon his hard length would be inside her, pushing her to even greater pleasure.

  Niara cast his boxer-briefs aside and knelt between his legs, dipping her head down. She turned a glance up at him as she ran her hands up his thighs, meeting his stare. His stomach quivered as she lowered her mouth and flickered her tongue against the glorious, thick dome of his cock.

  His hips jerked and he hissed a breath. His reaction spurring her, she parted her lips and took him in, sliding her mouth down his length and running her tongue along the underside of his shaft. He groaned, thrusting up to meet her. She’d never wanted to please a man like this before, never felt so rewarded with the moan and shudder he gave her.

  Too soon, his hands lifted her face. “Condoms? Shit, please tell me you have...”

  She blushed—that box Deena made her get had been opened, with packages dispersed, once again at her friend’s advice, all over. Pocket of her jeans, pocket of her robe, bathroom and bedroom. In case of emergency, Deena had said. Of course, she’d rather he not know that. “Nightstand.”

  Nia drew herself up on her knees, hands loosely held in her lap, feeling suddenly awkward with her flushed breasts on display while he shifted to open the drawer and retrieve a small silver package.

  The wrapper crinkled and moments later he rose on his knees as well with the thin latex sheathed over his erection. His gaze moved to her, hands reaching, and she closed the distance to him in an instant. His chest crushed hers, arms wrapping around her torso. Happy shivers danced down her flesh as he mouthed her neck. She raked her hands over his shoulders, through his silky dark hair, unable to get enough of him.

  Nia arched against him, rubbing the length of his erection between them. “I want you,” she whispered.

  His hands slid down to cup her ass, squeezing her cheeks roughly before he lifted her and sat back on his heels so she straddled his lap. “Do you?” he asked in a hoarse voice that sent warmth rushing through her veins.

  She leaned her head back, met his gaze. So much there—a mix of desire and worry, a tinge of doubt like he didn’t entirely believe her throbbing, wanting body.

  “I want all of this,” she returned, searching his gaze. “I want you.”

  A beat of silence passed with just their gazes locked, and then he shifted her up and down to connect their bodies as well. The broad head of his cock pushed, slick with her wetness, sliding past her folds and into her. She gasped at the pleasure-pain of his fullness stretching her. She met his thrust with one of her own, rolling her
hips downward.

  They found their rhythm, slow at first, acclimating to one another’s bodies. She gripped his shoulders and rocked; his hands came up to claim her breasts, calloused fingertips working her sensitive nerves into a frenzy. Quick, panting breaths left her lips, her heart thumping wildly.

  “I’ve wanted you so long,” he growled against her ear. “So fucking long. You feel amazing.” One hand dipped down to press her clit and she cried out, bucking against him.

  She dragged her nails over his scalp, through his sweat-damp hair, trying to stave off the climax building and knew she couldn’t for long. “I want to come with you. Please.”

  Brady twisted and flopped them back on the bed, hammering into her, still playing her clit. His free hand came to hers, fingers twining, and pinned it by her head palm-to-palm. Nia met his gaze and couldn’t look away, not as warm tingles built down low, a heat threatening to set her on fire. The sensation was nearly too much but she held until she hit the brink and then cried his name, rocketing on waves of pleasure. He gave one final, brutal thrust into her and groaned his relief, then slumped onto her.

  For several long minutes they stayed connected, unmoving. Her heart and breathing slowed at last. He was heavy and hot, crushing her lungs, but it was the most delicious feeling and she didn’t want to let go.

  But Brady shifted first, slipping out of her wetness. He rolled off the condom, tied off the end, and deposited it in the trash by the nightstand. When he turned back to her, panic clawed up her throat; he parted his lips like he was about to say something, the frenzy of their love-making retreating and reality settling in again.

  But no. No, she didn’t want to hear it—didn’t want to know about him leaving. She wanted one goddamn night and it wasn’t even midnight yet.

  Her arms snaked around him and she pressed her lips to his nipple, tongue flicking out to taste the salt of sweat on his skin. Her gaze entreated him and whatever he was going to say, he relented and slid back down onto the pillows with her. Strong, gentle arms wrapped around her body, fingers trailing the length of her spine. She closed her eyes, feeling cared for and sated for the first time in years.

  Chapter Six

  Niara awoke in an empty bed.

  Her arm stretched out as she blinked her eyes open, but found only cool, rumpled white blankets. She sat up, holding the sheet to her bare chest, and glanced around—no sign of Brady or his clothes, and the bathroom door lay open to show a dark room.

  Shit. She slumped down and closed her eyes again. Her body had a comfortable, good ache like after a workout at the gym, and she’d slept wonderfully. Whatever time it was in the morning had bright yellow sunlight spearing through the blinds and poking around her closed eyes. Still, her heart hurt despite the happy feeling in her body, and she rolled on her side and curled.

  One night. That was all she’d asked for, after all. And she’d thought that...that after everything that happened, everything they did, maybe it would turn out differently. Maybe he’d be there curled up with her, at least, and she might ask if she could see him again. It was selfish to expect him to stay, perhaps, but she wanted more.

  She wanted him.

  At last she opened her eyes again and checked the clock. 11:30. She didn’t even have a phone number to reach him and for all she knew, he left at dawn. Her chest felt carved out and hollow, missing his warmth and his smile already. If she checked her phone, she’d probably find messages from Deena—she’d need to tell her friend everything. And Deena would expect her to be happy. Last night, she had been. Now?

  Nia sighed, dragged the blankets back, and rose. The scuffed up hardwood floor was warm from the sun creeping around the blinds, and she immediately padded for her fuzzy pink bathrobe resting on a pile of boxes marked BEDROOM. Coffee. Maybe breakfast. Or hell, maybe leftover wine. That sounded like a good plan.

  Down the hall she went toward the stairs, yawning with each step, running her hand back through her tangled hair.

  A noise caught her attention and she paused.

  The floor downstairs creaked under heavy steps.

  Oh shit, the contractor. He wouldn’t come in her house uninvited, would he? She thumped down the stairs, her fuzzy robe brushing her bare legs, and whirled around the corner.

  And stopped.

  A familiar figure stood in her kitchen over the stove. He was dressed, pacing back and forth with a spatula in hand, humming softly. Coffee brewed in the corner and butter sizzled in a pan on the stove.

  What the hell?

  As if sensing her attention, Brady paused and turned, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Morning.”

  She blinked. “You’re still here.”

  He set the spatula down and turned, frowning. “Yeah...?”

  “But you were supposed to be leaving.”

  His jaw set and eyes hardened. “I didn’t realize ‘one night’ was literal and not involving morning.”

  “But the guy said you were leaving today—moving across country.”

  “Guy...?” His lips pressed tight and he shook his head, looking away. “So that’s why you asked. You didn’t think I’d be around today.”

  She was still tired and confused as hell. “Well, no—yes—but it’s not—”

  Muttering under his breath, he turned and stalked from the kitchen.

  “Brady!” She started after him, around the corner, to see the porch door swinging in his wake. She burst outside after him, shouting his name, but he was already at the road and turned toward his van.

  Jesus, what the hell had she just done?

  ****

  With considerable effort, Brady slowed his van down, easing off the gas though he’d practically stomped down on it when he left.

  She knew. Must’ve heard something when she went to the grocery store—fucking small town. That was why she asked. Why she wanted him there for the night. Like she’d said, she was still kind of messed up. She wasn’t looking for anything more. And probably never with someone like him.

  His fault. All his fault. He’d thought there was something there. That she might want him to stick around. But then why would she? He was no one important. Not some rich, powerful lawyer like her ex-husband—the type she apparently went for. Fine for a quick fuck but not relationship material.

  Holy shit, he was fucking stupid.

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel, going white-knuckled, and he ground his teeth. That was just fine, then. He’d pick up the things he’d already packed and leave. Four or five hours behind schedule, sure, but soon the goddamn little town—and everyone in it—would be miles behind him and forgotten.

  ****

  “Just don’t even start with the, ‘What’s the big deal?’” Niara said immediately, phone pinched between her shoulder and her head while she dashed around her room getting dressed.

  “Wasn’t going to,” Deena insisted.

  Nia shoved her legs into jeans and dragged the material up. “He was making me breakfast. Pancakes! What if he decided to stay because of me and I fucked it up? Jesus, I’m such a goddamn idiot, but you know my head’s not on straight in the morning—”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  She set the phone down long enough to pull on a T-shirt, then snatched it up again. “I’m going to find him.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know! But it’s not that big of a town. I can—”

  “Drive around and shout his name out the window like he’s a lost puppy?”

  Nia sighed and sank on the end of the bed, rubbing her temples. “I guess not if it’s that stupid.”

  “Phone number?”

  “Disconnected—I tried 411. And I tried the company he worked for and they wouldn’t give out employee information.”

  “Friends?”

  She still wasn’t sure what the guy from yesterday’s name was. “Drawing a blank.”

  “Family?”

  “He has a sister but she must’ve married and changed her name—I
tried Tracie Trewin and came up with nothing.”

  “Hold on.” The click of fingers forcefully tapping a keyboard sounded—Deena must’ve been at her laptop.

  “Are you doing something illegal?”

  “Nope. Facebook.” And a moment later: “There. Tracie Trewin-Valenti. Married to a guy named David. Annnnd...get a pen—there’s only one Valenti in town.”

  Jeez, she was quick. Nia scrambled for her purse, pulled out a pen and paper, and jotted down the number Deena gave her. “Thank you so much.”

  “Find him. Anyone who gives my girl multiple Os in one night is a keeper—if only so I can have him afterward.”

  Niara chuckled, shook her head, said her goodbyes, and immediately dialed up Tracie. The phone rang once.

  Twice.

  Three times.

  Dread pooled in her stomach. What the hell was she thinking? What if—

  “Hello?”

  She jumped and nearly dropped the phone. “Hi—may I speak to Tracie?”

  “Speaking.”

  Great. Not like I planned what in the hell I was going to say to her. She took a deep breath. “I’m a friend of Brady’s...”

  ****

  Twenty minutes later, Niara sat in a coffee shop on the main four quarters downtown, sipping a full-bodied dark roast that was absolutely heavenly. The shop was cool but she sat near a window and warm sun wrapped her in its embrace.

  A woman walked deliberately toward her and she glanced up. Tracie had long dark hair swept up into a loose ponytail, a multi-colored pastel diaper bag on one shoulder, and a toddler on her hip. She smiled widely and looked a few years older than Brady.

  “I’m Tracie,” she said as she took the seat opposite Niara, and placed the little girl on the seat beside her. “And this is Louisa.”

  The child giggled and clapped, and her eyes were the same rich blue as both her mom and Uncle Brady.

  Brady. His name was an uncomfortable pinch, like poking a bruise but she tried to smile. “Niara.”