Intimate

by Noelle Adams

  She sucks in a breath as he pushes up her damp skirt and then reaches to pull down her underwear—they’re cool and damp from the rain. But as he slides them down her bare legs, he can smell that she's deeply aroused.

  Just as aroused as he is.

  “Caleb,” she breathes, her fingers curling around his head. “Caleb, please.”

  He’s been expecting for this to be difficult. Expecting this to take a long time. But he’s here—now—and Marissa needs him. Is asking for him.

  She doesn’t want to wait anymore.

  Overwhelmed at the power of it, he nuzzles between her legs, provoking a low moan from her throat. She’s wetter than he expects—after so little foreplay—so, with a thrill, he pushes at her inner thighs, encouraging her to widen her stance.

  She shifts obediently, and he watches her face closely, pleased she doesn’t look even a little self-conscious. He darts his tongue out to taste her.

  “Good,” she groans, her fingers tightening in his hair. Her head and shoulders press back against the wall, and her pelvis tilts eagerly toward him. “Caleb, more. It’s so good.”

  He flutters his tongue around her entrance, and her breathing accelerates. When he finds her clit, she cries out sharply and thrusts her hips toward his face. One of her arms flies up and out, her fingers clawing at the smooth wall.

  She’s whimpering now—almost like she's in pain—and both his chest and his erection swell as he realizes she’s already close to climax.

  “Caleb,” she gasps, the fingernails of one hand breaking into the skin at the nape of his neck. “God, Caleb, more, don’t stop. You’re so good. So good.”

  Her skirt has fallen down against his eyes, so he reaches to bunch it up further. He wants to see her face. He needs to know she wants this—that he’s pleasing her.

  Her eyes are tightly squeezed shut now, and she’s biting her lower lip. He sucks hard on her clit, and she shamelessly grinds her pelvis into his face. He holds her as still as he can with both hands. Knows she’s close. Wants so much for her to come. Applies skillful suction into the thrashing of her hips.

  Caleb watches as her mouth falls open in a helpless whine, and her neck twitches, causing her head to bang against the wall a couple of times.

  Then she comes around his mouth, her thighs tightening, threatening to squeeze his head between them.

  He strokes her hips gently, feeling her body relax against him.

  His erection now pulses painfully in the restriction of his wet pants. He wants to make her come again, but this time he wants to be inside her. He wants her to take everything he gives her—and realize how much she needs it.

  Caleb is still kneeling before her, gazing up at her sated face. One damp curl sticks to her glowing cheek. He’s overwhelmed with the compulsion to rise from his knees, grab her hips, and drive himself into her sweet body. But he doesn’t. He makes himself wait until he’s invited.

  It doesn’t take long.

  “Caleb.” She pulls on his shoulders. The contentment from her first orgasm has faded, and her face once again is passionate and needy. “Now. I need you inside me. Now, Caleb. Now.”

  Hesitating no longer, he stands up and unfastens his pants to free his erection. It bounces slightly, hard and hot in the cool air of the apartment, and Marissa gazes down at it in awe. “Yeah,” she breathes. “Yeah, Caleb. Inside me.”

  She flattens her back against the wall, and Caleb adjusts her hips, angling them until her legs are parted and ready for him. As he maneuvers her body into position, her eyes close and her hands pull at him blindly. “Hurry.” She rolls her hips, anticipating their rhythm.

  Caleb has to bend his knees to get lined up at her entrance. Then he pushes inside her, straightening his legs as he thrusts. She cries out in low pleasure, as his force pushes her backward and up against the wall.

  She’s incredibly tight from years of going without—but she’s so wet and hot and clinging. She feels perfect—perfect for him—and he doesn’t even have to fight his body for control.

  Just closes his eyes as he feels Marissa around him. Enjoys the lush, initial homecoming before he starts to move inside her.

  “Caleb,” she whispers, her arms twined around his neck. “So good. You feel so good. I’ve needed you like this for so long.”

  He makes a throaty sound of approval and then carefully eases back, bending his knees, and pushes into her with another slow lateral thrust. Her intimate muscles relax and tighten again around him intuitively.

  “Yeah,” she moans, deep in her throat. “Good, Caleb. You’re so hard. Need more of you.” She can’t move much—trapped between the wall and his body—but she starts to squirm.

  At her urgent insistence, he reaches down and hooks the back of her knee around his elbow, lifting her leg up higher, opening her up to him even further. At this move, he sinks into her more deeply, and they both groan at the intensifying sensations.

  He pulls out and thrusts again, and her face twists in pleasure. Her arms fall away from his neck so that she can push against the wall behind her hips. She shifts and wriggles restlessly against him. Tries to get higher. Tries to get leverage against the wall. “More, Caleb. More. You’re incredible.”

  Caleb can’t straighten up his body, but it isn’t uncomfortable. He has her leg hooked over his arm and her ass in his hands, and he’s squeezing the soft flesh in time with his steady thrusts. He feels strong and powerful, and her moans of pleasure and the wanton undulation of her hips make his heart swell up in his chest.

  She needs this. She needs him. She knows that only he can please her.

  “Marissa,” he murmurs, lowering his face to her neck. He smells her damp skin. Can still smell her arousal. “Marissa.”

  She’s his. He wants to claim her.

  So Caleb pulls her leg up even higher and thrusts into her hard and deep. The momentum of his motion slams her against the wall and pushes her momentarily up off the floor.

  “Caleb,” she cries, one arm reaching back around his neck, and the other fumbling against the smooth surface of the wall. “Yeah, like that. Harder. Faster. Caleb, please.”

  At her frantic pleas, he drives into her more rapidly, and she starts grunting softly each time her body is forced against the wall. He would be afraid of hurting her, but she’s urging him on. She wants this just as much as he does.

  “Yeah, Caleb,” she rasps, tossing her head as her urgency mounts. “So good. So hard. Caleb, more.”

  He adjusts his position and moves his hands lower on her ass. “Marissa, baby, arms around me,” he mutters, pushing her firmly against the wall and lifting her body up as he straightens his legs.

  She wraps her arms and legs around him, and he presses her into the wall for support, pumping inside her now at a deeper, truer angle.

  Marissa is out of control, rocking against him desperately as he holds her up. “Yeah, Caleb. Need you. Love this.” Her eyes are locked on his face. “So good, Caleb. So strong. Love you. Love you.”

  He makes a loud burst of sound in response, her weight a burden he never wants to release. She’s hot and shuddering and close to coming now. Her entire body grows tenser each time he slams into her.

  “Caleb!” She claws at the back of his neck. “God, Caleb!” And with one more hard thrust, she comes around him. Her inner muscles clench so violently they threaten to force him out, but he keeps pushing against the contractions—pushing her against the wall.

  He can’t hold back any longer, as her spasming muscles break down his restraint. The rising sensations finally begin to crest. His balls tighten. His eyes squeeze shut involuntarily. With a hoarse cry of release, he falls over the edge and…

  * * *

  Caleb came, just as he woke up.

  He made a strangled sound as his body exploded in involuntary release. After the minute it took him to orient himself, he realized what happened.

  Trying to suck in air, he rolled over to the other side of the bed. He was sweating profusel
y and still half-bemused by the most erotic dream he’d ever had in his life.

  But it had just been a dream. When he’d left Marissa’s apartment last night, she hadn’t called out after him. Hadn’t asked him to stay. They hadn’t made love wildly against a wall in the entryway, too desperate for each other to even make it into the bedroom.

  They’d kissed when their date was over, and then she’d sent him away.

  The kiss had been sweet and passionate, but it just hadn’t been enough. Caleb didn’t just want sweet kisses from Marissa. He wanted everything. Wanted her body, her desire, her need, her wild abandon.

  Caleb wanted her to want him.

  Who was he kidding? He wanted her love.

  And while Marissa had clearly enjoyed kissing him last night, he was quite sure she hadn’t been aroused when they’d parted.

  He’d been aroused. Far more than was comfortable.

  But Marissa had been pleased and content as she'd said goodnight to him.

  Which meant Caleb had gone home and worked out for two hours. Taken a shower and fallen into bed when he was finally too exhausted to stay awake. He’d dreamed of her—in agonizing, exhilarating detail.

  And then he’d come in his bed, like some skinny boy who’d just hit puberty.

  It was absolutely humiliating.

  Clenching his jaw, he imagined Marissa's lovely, laughing face. And he almost resented her for it. She had done this to him—turned him into this pitiful wreck. And now she was merrily enjoying the sweet simplicity of their relationship, while he was suffering the agony of wanting her so much.

  Wanting her so desperately, when he might not ever get her.

  He felt an irrational rage build inside him at the injustice of their respective, emotional positions.

  Then a ringing phone broke into his righteous wrath, and he forgot about it completely. Lunged over to pick the phone up.

  Hoped to God it was Marissa.

  ***

  “Hello,” Caleb said, snatching the phone up to his ear.

  “Good morning.”

  Caleb grunted as if someone had struck him.

  “You don’t sound particularly pleased to hear from me.”

  “Damn you.”

  Baron James chuckled on the other end of the line. “Charming as ever. I suppose this means things are going swimmingly with your beautiful, bewildered girl.”

  “Don’t get too comfortable with your smug, childish amusement at my expense.”

  James laughed again. “Should I ever find myself as hopelessly besotted as you, I’ll be the first to acknowledge you have every right to jump in and have a little fun with my feelings as payback.”

  Caleb didn’t respond, ignoring the jibe at the end. He’d never told James he was in love with Marissa—he’d barely been able to admit it to himself. It was somehow unnerving that his feelings were so obvious.

  “Seriously,” James went on. “How’s it going? Making any progress?”

  “After the way you meddled with such a delicate situation, for no other reason but your own malicious enjoyment, did you actually expect things to be going well?”

  “Sometimes relationships have been built into such complex chaos that someone just needs to step in and level them to the ground—so you can build them up again differently. How’s it going? Any luck?”

  Caleb was silent again.

  “You’re not going to tell me? Is it that bad?” After a pause, James continued, something in his voice changing. “If your silence is a way of conveying there’s been irreparable damage, it might cause me to feel the slightest twinge of guilt.”

  “There was very nearly irreparable damage, so you might rethink your meddling in the future.”

  “Excellent. That means you managed to work things out. Is she naked in your bed right now? Is that why you’re being so close-mouthed about this?”

  “You would do well not to mention Marissa and nudity in the same sentence again.”

  “So she’s not in your bed. Sorry to hear it. It sounds like the enforced abstinence is trying your patience. But you know what they say—all good things come…”

  A stream of profanity interrupted his ironic, sanctimonious platitude.

  “All right. I won’t say it. Have you had any more thoughts about the jazz band?”

  “I’m still considering it. I’m under contract for three more months with the orchestra, so I couldn’t do anything until then anyway.”

  “Are you seriously considering it? Because, if it’s just a fleeting thought, I’d rather know now so I can make other plans.”

  “I’m seriously considering it.”

  “What does Marissa think?”

  Caleb was silent for a stretch of time. Then, “I haven’t mentioned it to her.”

  “Are you sure about that? I can tell you’re serious about this woman, and keeping something so important to your career from her could be a real problem. It doesn’t sound like a good idea to me.”

  Caleb closed his eyes and felt an uncomfortable pressure in his chest.

  He’d never told her things like this—he’d always automatically lied about anything that might worry or disappoint her. If he told her the truth about this now, it would turn into a big thing. She would be upset about his giving up on the orchestra and the stable life she wanted him to build, and he would have to try to explain something that wasn’t even clear in his mind.

  He’d also lose the escape route that was, right now, the only thing keeping him free.

  He hadn’t transformed into a different person overnight, and he needed something that was his alone.

  “I’m sure.”

  After another long silence, James said at last, “All right. Who am I to talk, anyway? I’ve made nothing but a mess of my relationships.”

  * * *

  “Do you have anything chocolate?” Marissa asked, as soon as she arrived at his apartment that evening.

  “Hello to you too.”

  “Wow, you’re extra-sensitive today.” She was looking particularly lush and curvy this evening, in jeans and a clingy red top that showed a lot of cleavage. “You were sulky on the phone this morning too. Just because I already had dinner plans with friends this evening.”

  “I was not sulky. And it’s just common courtesy to say hello before one demands chocolate.”

  “So says the man who is completely oblivious to my presence if I happen to arrive while he’s playing the cello.”

  “How was dinner?” he asked, following her into his kitchen.

  “Good. I ate too much.” She opened his freezer and released a squeal of joy. “I love you. I love you. I love you!”

  Unfortunately, Caleb was pretty sure that she wasn’t declaring her love for him—rather, her love for the pint of double-chocolate ice cream she’d just confiscated from his freezer.

  “I thought you said you ate too much,” he said, as she scrounged for two spoons and a couple of napkins.

  She looked at him like he was crazy. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Apparently nothing.” He tried to hide a smile.

  She narrowed her eyes suspiciously but didn’t respond. Just headed for the couch.

  Handing him a spoon, she grinned. “Do you want any? I’m willing to share.”

  “Your generosity with my food is astounding,” he murmured, scooting closer to her and taking the offered spoon.

  They ate in pleasant quiet, only occasionally making random comments. Caleb did his best to concentrate on the ice cream and not on the way Marissa’s lips slid across her spoon. Or the way her tongue darted out to lick its way around her mouth.

  She released a deep, contented sigh after they fought over who would scrape the last traces of ice cream off the bottom of the carton. “What better way to end the day?”

  Caleb could think of a better way. It involved the two of them in his bed without any clothes between them.

  Needless to say, he didn’t offer this suggestion.


  She reclined back against a thick cushion and smiled at him sweetly. “Are you doing all right, Caleb?”

  He was momentarily distracted by the way her breasts rose and fell, but he made himself focus on her flushed, happy face. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t know. I had such a good time last night, and I’m so excited about this…this new thing now. But I was thinking maybe it’s a little too junior-high for you.”

  He blinked.

  “I mean, we went on a date and then kissed and said good-night. I don’t think that’s the way your dates normally end.”

  She was right. He’d never had a date like that in his life. Either he didn’t even bother to kiss the woman, or they went much farther than kissing. He shouldn’t be surprised that she’d read how he’d been feeling so easily. She knew him better than anyone else.

  He tried not to remember his dream last night. Tried not to visualize making love to her against a wall.

  “It’s not,” he said at last. “But I didn’t expect this to be the same. This is like nothing I’ve done before. You’re not like any woman I’ve dated in the past.” He felt kind of stupid and sappy saying the words, but when he saw her expression transform, he was glad he’d said them.

  “Really? You’re not just saying that because we’re friends? Because, if anything more develops between us, it’s going to be serious for me. And if I thought you just wanted to get me into bed…”

  He did want to get her into bed. But, God help him, he wanted so much more.

  And he realized that Marissa wasn’t as at ease with everything as she’d seemed to be today.

  She needed to hear him say some things.

  So he forced down his reluctance and began, “I am saying this because we’re friends, but not for the reasons you think. If we hadn’t been friends to begin with, then this thing between us wouldn’t be as deep. I’ve been an asshole with women most of my life—you know this as well as I do. But this is different. You’re different. I want you, Marissa—all of you, not just your body—and so I’m willing to wait until you’re ready to take things further.”

  He cringed as he heard his declaration. Prayed she wouldn’t laugh in his face for being overly sentimental.