He’s murder.
“Yes. It's almost . . . kind of, well, frightening when I think of being without you. You're someone whose company is easy to get used to. Have I ever told you how much I love your check-in calls and texts?”
“I like hearing that. Sometimes I worry that I’m too much.”
“No, not too much.” I thought carefully before revealing more. “Your life and what you’ve done so far is a lot for me to handle, but when we’re one on one, I feel we're perfect.”
“Amazing how things slow down when it’s only me and you, isn’t it?” He sipped his tea.
“Yep.”
“You’ll tell me if I do something that puts you off, won’t you?” he checked. "Don't keep it to yourself, okay?"
"Okay."
“In my world of so many men, our gross habits and rough language . . . I need to hear your voice, your views and opinions. You’re the calm that surrounds me when I need it most.”
“God, Ryan. The things you say.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know.” I looked toward the balcony.
“So why did you really come to my apartment? You could’ve stayed home.”
“Not really. I mean, yes, but what you said . . .”
“What?” he asked purposefully.
“You scared me.” It took everything I had to admit my feelings.
“Why?” His look changed to concern. “What did I do?"
"Last night, you said you’d go if I didn’t want to come to your place because that meant I didn't want you—I thought you would leave me,” I confessed. “I don’t want you walking away forever.”
“That’s not what I meant.” His eyes went soft and he put his arm around my shoulder. “I’m sorry; I didn’t—”
“I mean, logically, I was pretty sure you didn’t mean you’d walk away,” I interrupted. “Your words sliced right into my fears. Not having you to talk to, well . . .” I played with my fingernails. “I can’t imagine my world without you.”
“So you would wonder about us,” he said with his wry grin. It was as if he needed reassurance that I wanted him.
“I already said it would be terrible.”
“Because you love me,” he took a chance with his assumption.
Dear Lord, say something, Nicky. Just don’t let your vulnerability show too much or he’ll take advantage of you.
“You know, staying up late like this can’t be good for you.” I began tearing the corners of my napkin as I avoided his statement. “What if you have to pitch in today’s game?”
“I’ll be okay.” His voice was slow and sultry. He walked over to his sound system and took several CDs from his storage tower. I watched his body as he moved.
“You like CDs?" I was curious.
"Does that surprise you?"
"Well, yeah. I’d think that someone like you would just dock whatever music device you have and then select a song from one of your playlists.”
“Someone like me?” he repeated.
That low voice is going to make me faint.
“Yeah, well, I mean you have the money for what you want . . . I guess. I don't track the money part of sports, it's . . . I would assume, that's all. Plus, the Internet makes it easy to get music; when do you have time to shop for CDs?”
“I have time.” He sorted through his collection. “I use an MP3 on the road so I don't clutter my phone. When I’m here relaxing, I like CDs. I told you before; I’m an old-fashioned boy. I have a vinyl collection, too.”
“Oh that’s right,” I smiled. “I remember hearing you were old-fashioned when it came to your hot chocolate.” I giggled and couldn’t help but reminisce back to the first night he spent at my house when he’d bragged about the way he made it.
“My hot chocolate is classic, though, isn’t it? Totally old school,” he laughed. “Do you—” He stopped when he caught me checking out his body. Then he smiled and turned around to pop in the CD.
I can’t believe he caught me checking him out! Nothing like letting him know my green light is on and blinking, “Come in.”
As I looked him over, I noticed his sweatpants were loose enough to hide his thighs and his butt, however the other thing . . . it wasn’t hiding—and there was no mystery about what it wanted.
What did I do to cause that? Just from standing together looking at his photos? Is that all it takes?
“Do you like children, Nicky?” He walked back to the sofa and sat next to me. "You never answered."
“I love them. I volunteer with Tara at Children’s Hospital. Didn’t I ever tell you about that? You should see the faces of those little boys and girls, especially when Tara comes in. She’s like this earth mother or something and . . .”
“Please don’t stop,” he reached for my hand. Ryan smiled as if he were a child who’d found warmth in his mother’s arms.
“I’m rambling.”
“That’s okay. I love it when you ramble. It’s so sweet when that smart mind of yours spins and you get lost in your thoughts and dreams. I want to hear everything you have to say, no matter what it is or how long you talk about it.”
“All right, then. You asked for it.” I lined up on the runway and took off, telling him about all the charities at which I volunteered. “By the way, do you like children?” I asked, wrapping my story.
“Mm-hmm.” He looked over my face. “I can’t wait to have my own; it’s one of my dreams.”
“I see.” I stopped talking.
The air was still.
We sipped our tea to the sounds of soft jazz playing in the background.
“This is relaxing. George Benson. You like this kind of music?” I picked up the CD case and read the list of songs. “You played it when we were at Half Moon Bay, too.”
“I like just about every genre, but mostly because you set this kind of music in my car when you went into Sammy's. Right now? I’m in the mood for some soft music to go with my soft belly.”
He waited for my response.
I couldn’t hold back my giggles.
“I’m just laughing at the image of you with a soft belly. Ha! With all your workouts I hardly think . . .” I poked his stomach. "Still, you do have a nice give there. Ooh, I love it.”
“Speaking of . . . I’d like to take a look at your soft belly." His thumb touched the corner of my mouth, tracing my lips. “Isn’t it time we relaxed? We can come so close . . . so close."
He put his mug of tea on the coffee table.
His blue eyes focused on me.
I sensed something in my core tightening.
He reached for me.
"Kiss me, Nicky."
Chapter 29
Exposing Soft Bellies
“Ryan.” My breath was shallow and fast. “Wait.” He kissed me on the cheek. “Wait, I—”
His soft lips kissed mine.
“Can I love you?” his hands moved down each of my arms.
“You know, I mean, I know you’re . . . wait.” I put my hand over my face. “Wait a minute.”
It was sublime as his fingers squeezed and massaged the back of my neck, loosening all the knots I held inside my body. However the boyfriend-infused “stress” in my body continued to build.
“Okay. What I’m saying is that I know you’re in a soft-belly mood. But I’ve been up late three nights in a row and the only mood I’m in is tired. Where did you say your spare bedroom is? We can talk tomorrow after I get some sleep. Okay with you?”
I know sleep isn’t on his agenda. I’m struggling. I don’t know what I want to do. Oh crap, look at him. He’s making his move and I’m too weak to resist. It’s over.
“I had a great time tonight, but you know I don’t go out and party like the other women you date. Well, that’s judgmental, but, if you do. I’m not a cool girl. I know you like your clubs, but I can’t last all night like you can. I don’t know how you do it, Ryan. I’m tired and just . . . beat.”
That sizzling look of passion retu
rned to his eyes.
His smile was now full of desire.
All the talking was done.
His invitation was mailed, I RSVP’d, and Ryan’s party of two was in full motion.
“Nicky, you’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met.” He twirled strands of my hair around his fingers. “You can handle me or you wouldn’t have come here.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I fibbed.
“All you had to do was tell me you wanted to stay home.” His thigh pressed against mine. “We both agreed we should explore our relationship on a deeper level. Uncross your gorgeous legs and wrap them around my hips. My body has waited for a year to feel yours.”
Wrap them . . .how . . . where?
Everything about him seemed to open.
I was sure a light had begun to illuminate from him.
“Didn’t we both agree to take this slow?” My breathing was suddenly labored. “Ryan? Didn’t we . . .”
He ran his hands through my hair. Immediately, I was drawn to him and moved closer. His mouth descended to mine. I knew his lips were devouring me.
I realized . . . I wanted his passion.
The sounds from his throat and the way his hands touched me were a testament to his lust—he was giving himself over to our most basic need.
Urgency that previously lay dormant inside of me now brought intense pulses between my legs. I felt like I was a riverbed, filling with pools of warm, liquid light. Little fish covered in gold were swimming in my belly.
The sensual wonder I’d experienced while only touching myself, seemed ready to be given over to a new kind of pleasure with the man at my side. I wanted to be one with his visions, to feel, embrace, and live them.
His hands caressed my shoulders.
He pulled me close.
I eagerly pressed my lips more deeply into his. Uncrossing my legs, I straddled his thighs. Just moments before, I’d been nervous and afraid of losing control. But now our kiss, enchanting and welcoming, brought me closer to him than ever before.
Ryan brought my left leg around his hip. With a quick turn he moved on top of me. I was underneath him just like he wanted—like I wanted.
“How does it feel to have me between your legs?” His voice slithered inside me.
The paralysis of desire had hit.
I couldn’t answer.
He gently bit, licked, and kissed my ears. His tongue licked the ridge of their outer curve. The vision of Ryan penetrating my body crept into my mind, almost forcing me to tilt my head back.
I hoped the perfection of our entwined love would stay suspended in time.
The feel, the warmth, and the unspoken words he whispered, brought waves of invisible sparkles through me. They tingled and coaxed my legs to tighten around him; every cell inside me seemed made and replicated for him. His caress was gentle on my cheeks. When he kissed me, I was overcome with the stored power inside of him, bulging and ready to be released on me.
I shivered.
One of the photos he'd captured and displayed in his living room—one drop of water, which hung precariously from a pine needle, seemed made for our moment.
I imagined a freshly melted snowflake had settled there.
Hand in hand we approached the perfect melting crystal, hesitating, suspended, delicate.
I was there.
We were there.
This magnificence was meant for us.
I felt wrapped in the scene as Ryan and I embraced inside his apartment, inside our bodies and our hearts.
It was a scene that had played out millions of times.
Simple.
Stunning.
The clarity that presented itself was sudden.
I understood in a way I never had—we'd been frozen in our fears only a few days ago, watching the beauty and challenges of life passing around us.
It was time.
I needed to fully engage and melt my defenses and protection, exposing the tenderness underneath—like that perfect and suspended forest crystal.
The tip of Ryan’s tongue curled. Flicking it against my ear, I felt as if it was a snake, stabbing at the air, trying to smell and sense his surroundings. When his tongue opened my lips with its firm tip, the inside of my mouth felt as if a separate and independent muscle from the rest of his tongue was exploring me. Having it inside my mouth, searching, tasting and exploring made me hyper-aware of my body. All I wanted was to close my eyes and fly away in my fantasy. The sensations of Ryan’s hands, muscles, and the sounds of his voice, brought my mind to a place of complete and pure enlightenment.
Just move me, kiss me, and touch me any way you want. Don’t make me talk.
“Nicky,” Ryan whispered.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Are you okay?” He lifted his head to look at me.
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to keep going?”
“Yes.”
Yes, yes, yes!
He put one hand on the back of my head. His legs tightened. They captured me. His lips sealed my mouth. We were joyously melting into our forest floor just as I’d imagined moments ago. Ryan held me so that I couldn’t move. It was undeniable—he was ready to make the flames rise between us.
Our voyage had started.
I tuned into a language I’d never understood until that evening.
Moistening my skin, his tongue moved up and down my neck, tasting my salty wet flesh. My body was in delicious agony. I was aware of and enjoyed the feel of his body as it pushed, strained, and flexed. I imagined his muscles would move the same way when he made love to me.
I felt as if his soul drifted into me, swirling with my spirit, dancing together, and twirling in pure joy.
Although I weakly resisted when he lifted my shirt, I didn’t mind. I made low sounds of my own. Our sensitive pleasure burst like a thousand butterflies swarming into the air. A million little voices whispered, “Give in, give in, give in.”
“Just relax and let me pleasure you. The more you think about us and the slower I’ve been with you, the farther you’ve drifted from me. Let’s begin dreaming tonight.”
Take me away.
“Put your arms around me.” His request was gentle and yet commanding.
I raised my arms.
He removed my shirt completely. His mouth inched from my neck to my stomach, searing my skin in hot, tender kisses. The sensations between my legs made me ache and throb—oh, the delicious throbbing. My logical mind disappeared. I felt the magnificence of my woman's body become moist, preparing me to be with a man.
Never looking away from my eyes, Ryan unhooked my bra and flung it across the room. I heard him say something, but my head was filled with so many heartbeats I couldn’t understand the words—and yet, I sensed what he was saying.
His blue eyes, that ocean I adored, looked at my breasts, and then back to me. Squirming under his desire, the eyes now watching my every move made me want to shed my bashfulness and become one with that primal male on top of me. I wanted him. My breasts pushed up to him, wanting badly to be held in his big hands, my nipples long and hard almost as if stretching so his mouth could taste them.
“You're my exquisite woman. Did you know I've always thought of you this way?"
I moaned.
His arms held me as we rose up together, his chest against my breasts, my body touching his nipples, two of us rejoicing together, our hearts pounding, love waiting to join in a physical way.
His tongue slid into my mouth.
Kisses covered my neck.
Lips touched my shoulders.
Chills rushed over me.
"Ohhhh . . ." I moaned from some deep place that was swollen with my previously hidden woman who now begged for more.
He lifted his head.
The loving look on his face was overwhelming.
He took his shirt off.
Beginning to wrap around me, was a man who'd become a predator ready to wrap around his prey.
Oh his chest . .
. his beautiful chest is against my breasts . . . goodbye world . . . I’m floating away.
Both of us knelt on the sofa, seeking more. I rubbed against him, purposefully trying to experience his masculine essence and the passion underneath his skin. My woman’s body cried for release. Everything about him filled me with pleasure.
I imagined lying together on a tropical beach, each of us caressed by a silk cloth scented with the finest oils as it lifted in warm breezes.
His hand held my breast; my body now in a state of complete and total gratitude. Lowering his head as if to kiss me, he suddenly stopped to look in my eyes.
“Would you let me make love to you tonight?” Ryan asked.
My body rippled.
Chapter 30
Primitive
“Yes.” I answered without hesitation.
Was he really asking or had he only just tested my desire?
Was I really as close to going all the way as I’d just inferred?
“I love . . ." I tried to speak and instead succumbed to his hands, flowing with the chills up and down my back. "I love . . .” Ryan's chin gently nudged, lifted and directed my cheek to turn so he could kiss me. I locked my hands around his neck and let him lower our bodies down on the sofa.
He was on top of me.
He fit perfectly into the curves of my feminine body.
His belly moved in and out, the same way his tongue slipped in my mouth. I felt as if he was urging me to follow rhythms of erotic abandon. My breasts felt the nipples of his firm pectorals rubbing them. Acting as an anchor, his feet pushed against the sofa. He became long and aggressive.
We gave each other permission to escape.
Our hips danced as if exotic Polynesian music filled them.
Our backs arched into natural bridges.
My body softened as it was meant to, preparing for a man to enter me.
The sounds from our desire became laced with urgency.
“Nicky.” Another strained whisper fell at my ear.
“Hmm.”
“I’ll make love to you so sweetly."
“Hmm . . .” I was unable to say anything more than that.
“Will you let go?" He caught my earlobe in his lips and then slowly pushed it from his mouth with his tongue. "I’ll be gentle and respect every one of your stop signs.”
Jagged Heart (Broken Bottles Series Book 3) Page 20