by Noelle Adams
By the time she had come to this noble decision, they were getting out of the cab in front of the restaurant.
Caleb hadn’t said a word in ten minutes.
“Hey,” she murmured softly, as they headed toward the entrance. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t.”
She rolled her eyes, hating when he played this little game. “Don’t lie to me. I know you too well. Remember? I did hurt you by pulling away, and I’m telling you now that I’m sorry for it.”
He shook his head. “You have every right to pull away whenever you want to. I know you don’t want me yet, so I shouldn’t keep pushing myself on you.”
It would be so easy to let it go with this. So easy and safe to let him think this was true. But she was determined to be brave, and that meant being honest. “That wasn’t exactly what happened,” she mumbled, glancing away.
“So tell me what did happen.”
“I panicked.” Then she darted her eyes back to gauge his reaction.
His defenses still evident in his eyes, he asked, “Because you didn’t like what I was doing?”
“Because I did.”
It took a moment for this to register, but then Caleb’s face transformed. Something palpable flared out in his eyes.
She thought maybe it was hope.
“You did?” he murmured, taking a step closer and sliding his hand up to the back of her neck, under her hair.
“Yes—and now I suppose I’m going to have to suffer through your smugness at the phenomenal achievement of having turned me on.” She gave him a wobbly grin. “But you did. I was definitely feeling something.”
They smiled at each other for a minute.
Then, as they walked into the restaurant, Caleb's hand moved to her back in a possessive way.
Marissa was feeling pretty pleased with herself. She’d been brave. She’d mended the little rift with Caleb. And they’d made a step forward in their relationship.
All it had taken was some honesty, some embarrassment, and some smut.
* * *
A few hours later, they were kissing in the hall outside the private room where the birthday party was breaking up.
Finally pulling away, Caleb dropped a kiss on her cheekbone. “We should stop, but you’re just too irresistible.”
Realizing that she was nestling against him in a ridiculously needy way, Marissa tried to temper the overwhelming sweetness. “You’ve become quite a sap in the last few weeks. Did you know that?”
Laughing, he lowered his mouth to the dip between her neck and shoulder. Kissed the skin softly and then teased it with his tongue. “I know. I’m hoping very soon I’ll get my bite back.”
He bit her. To emphasize his words, she supposed. But the sudden feel of his teeth on her sensitive skin had a very unexpected effect.
Marissa felt another lightning bolt.
She forced herself not to pull away, although that was her first instinct. Instead, she reached up and twined her arms around his neck. “Good. Because I adore you for your bite as much as for your sweetness.”
He pulled his face up and stared into hers for a minute. Then, with a strange little groan, he met her lips again in a passionate kiss.
The kissing part was lovely, but Marissa began to feel flickers of resistance as Caleb pressed his chest against hers. And even more when he slid his hands down to cup her butt and pressed her hips into his pelvis.
Marissa turned her head away, sucking in an urgent breath and trying with all her might not to yank herself out of his arms and run away.
She was brave now. And she wanted this. She wanted Caleb.
She had nothing to run away from anymore.
Caleb loosened his arms. “We should stop. This isn’t the right place to take it any further.”
Infinitely grateful, she could now pull out of his arms.
She tried to think of Caleb and how much she loved him and not of nauseating, dirty memories from her childhood.
“Do you want to do anything else this evening?” he asked, “or do you want to just go home?”
Marissa was absolutely convinced that he didn’t have any underlying agenda in mind with that question. He was being kind—being polite—and she appreciated it.
But she was now more determined to be brave than ever, so she swallowed hard. “Let’s go back to my apartment.”
* * *
As soon as they walked into her apartment, Caleb hauled her into an aggressive kiss, pressing her body back against the wall.
They hadn’t talked much during the cab ride back, but only because they’d been kissing the whole time.
Marissa knew he was aroused, but he’d still been careful and thoughtful with her as they’d made out in the backseat.
She’d enjoyed all of it until his fingers had accidentally brushed against the side of her breast.
She hadn’t pulled away though. She'd been brave. Just shifted her body until his hand was once more safe on her side.
But as they rode up in the elevator together, Marissa could feel a pulsing energy coming off him—some sort of intensity coiled tightly inside him. His face was slightly damp, and he had a wild look in his eyes.
Marissa could have stopped him. She could have said goodnight before she let him in the door.
She had her issues, but she wasn’t entirely stupid. She knew exactly what Caleb would do as soon as she let him into her apartment.
But she let him in anyway, even though her heart was now drumming painfully.
She wanted so much to be brave.
So now he had her pushed up against the wall, and she was imprisoned between the hard wall and his hard body.
His mouth devoured hers, his tongue pillaging and plundering. He was pushing forcefully against her, holding her in place. And his hands were everywhere, tracing up and down any part of her he could reach.
She was assaulted by waves of heat, pleasure, and terror. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t act. Could only receive what he gave her. Could only let him do what he was doing to her.
She knew he needed her. Knew he was trying to please her. Knew that if only she held on to her courage everything would be so much better for both of them.
But it was so hard.
Her body was physically responding to his embrace, but there was so much more going on inside her. Her feelings were torn, twisted. She thought she might scream. Thought she might pass out.
Was sure this wasn’t a normal reaction. Just more proof that she was all messed up.
Caleb knew what he was doing—his hands and mouth were both passionate and skillful. And he was completely wrapped up in her, lost in her, making low sounds of pleasure and need.
He was so hot. And so hard. And so everything at once. She could barely process it, could hardly understand that one man could be everything, everywhere, everyone—at this moment the whole of existence.
When he pulled away from her slightly, she sighed in relief, but it was a relief that only lasted a moment. His hands, which had been on her hips, slid up to cup her breasts over the fabric of her top.
She let out a soft grunt as she felt his palms chafe her nipples. And before she could even begin to get her bearings, his mouth descended once more to the side of her jaw, nibbling little lines back and forth.
“Marissa,” he murmured over her skin. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, God, Marissa.” His hands continued to move purposefully on her breasts, and her nipples automatically tightened in response.
Clutching at his shoulders, she couldn’t do anything but feel. She supposed this was the point where excitement and desire should have taken over. She should be crying out her pleasure, tearing off his clothes, reaching out to fondle him. Trying to pull him even closer.
But she couldn’t. Couldn’t do anything but hold on frantically and will herself not to fall to the floor.
She could feel the tugs between her legs from his stimulation of her breasts, but it wasn’t
the lightning bolt she’d felt before. And it wasn’t entirely pleasant.
Instead of the jolt, she felt a strange, dull ache at her center and a heavy feeling in her gut. One she didn’t like at all.
The more Caleb kissed and caressed her, the stronger the feeling grew.
Marissa eventually realized she was making a whole series of sounds—loud gasps and pants and occasional silly moans. They were all involuntary, but only some of them were from pleasure.
She felt like she was in an oven. Suffocating. Unable to take a real breath.
“Marissa,” Caleb groaned, his lips moving to the throbbing pulse in her throat. “Is this good? Marissa, tell me. Please tell me I’m making you feel good.” He sounded hoarse and hungry and desperate. He’d lost his natural articulateness.
She tried to shape a word. All that came out was a choked, “Eh.”
He was almost out of control now—this extraordinary man frantic with desire for her.
He needed her so much, and she wanted to please him. Wanted to please herself.
Wanted so much to be brave.
“Marissa?” he asked again, his face buried in her neck. “God, Marissa, you feel so good. Tell me if you want this.” Using his thumb, he gave one hard nipple a firm flick, and she gasped as the dull ache between her legs intensified.
The heavy feeling in her belly intensified too.
But she wasn’t going to be afraid anymore. This was Caleb. He was everything to her. She was going to do this—despite the way every instinct in her body screamed at her to resist.
Sucking in a desperate swallow of air, she forced one word out of her throat. “Good.”
It wasn't completely a lie.
Some of what she felt was good. She loved being close to Caleb. Loved how much he needed her. Loved that there seemed to be this pull between the two of them, always compelling them to get even closer.
But she was feeling other things too. Feeling panic, feeling sick, feeling disoriented and bewildered. And those weren't good feelings at all.
If only it wasn’t so hot. If only she could take a deep breath. Form a complete thought.
With a lingering moan, Caleb thrust his pelvis into her abdomen, and she felt the hard bulge of his arousal. She clawed at his shoulders, trying to ignore the way everything in her body was starting to tighten at this sign of how close they were now to sex.
Still rocking his erection against her, he closed over her lips once again, and this time he sucked her tongue into his mouth. She tried to respond, tried to act instead of just receive. Didn’t do a very good job.
Then she felt something else, something other than his lean body, hard erection, intense heat, urgent mouth, and the solid wall behind her back.
She felt his fingers under her skirt. On her thigh. Between her legs. Even farther in.
All the way inside.
Fuck being brave. Marissa just couldn’t do this.
Instead of clutching at his shoulders, she pushed him away, choking out, “No, Caleb, wait. I can’t.”
He let go of her immediately, his face twisted. Then he let out a loud bellow of frustration and jerked his whole body away, whirling around and taking a few long steps away from her.
Staring at his stiff back, she crossed her arms across her chest and squeezed herself, fighting against all the feelings that bombarded her. “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be a tease. I really thought I could…I wanted to…I just couldn’t…”
“I know,” he interrupted. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
Marissa’s face crumpled as she watched him. He must be so mad. So disappointed in her. He wouldn’t even turn around.
She couldn’t contain a few little sobs—the only release at her disposal—and she covered her face with her hands in an attempt to fight them back.
Before she knew what was happening, Caleb was in front of her again. His fingers gently covered her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face. “God, don’t. Marissa, please don’t cry. I’m so sorry. I got carried away, but I should never have pushed you so much. You know, don’t you, that I wasn’t trying to force you into—”
“Caleb,” she interrupted, grabbing at fistfuls of his shirt. “Of course, I know you weren’t pushing me into it. I asked for it. I wanted it. But I guess I’m just not ready for this yet.”
“I know. I guess I knew all along.” He looked briefly torn. “Give me a minute. Then we can sort things out.”
He walked awkwardly into her bathroom, and she went over to her couch before her knees buckled. She was shaking uncontrollably now, and the heavy feeling in her gut hadn’t gone away.
She was curled up in a tight ball when he joined her a few minutes later. “Are you all right?” she asked, scanning him anxiously.
His face was relaxed now, but he looked drained and exhausted. “Yes,” he told her, sitting down next to her and pulling her against his side. “No matter what anyone says, we aren’t slaves to our physical urges any more than women are.”
“I know,” she whispered, nestling against him. Now that all the throbbing energy was gone, he was safe again. She snuggled as close as she could get, her chill immediately lessening. “But I still feel bad for leading you on.”
“I should have known better. I just wanted you so much that I refused to admit things were moving too quickly.”
They were silent for a few minutes before she finally asked, “So you’re really not mad at me?”
“Of course not.” He sounded a little offended. “If anything, you should be angry with me.”
“I’m not. I feel even more warm and fuzzy about you now.”
He smiled. “In that case, we’ll call the evening a success.” He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “I’m going to leave now, if that’s all right. You look tired, and I’m not sure I’m up to any more deep discussion.”
Reluctantly, she released him, knowing it wasn’t fair to make use of his body for endless snuggling when she wasn’t ready to give him anything else. “You look tired too. Try to get some sleep tonight.”
“You too.”
Fourteen
“Do you ever think about changing jobs?” Marissa asked.
Caleb eyed her face over his glass of water, feeling a clench in his gut and wondering how she’d known. “Why are you asking me that?”
“Just because. You said before you’re bored with playing for the orchestra. So I was wondering whether you still are.” She looked confused, as if she hadn’t expected an interrogation. “I know you aren’t used to keep a steady job like this, so I was thinking you might be wanting to do something else. I just want you to be happy with your job.”
He knew this was the perfect time to mention James’s jazz band. He was thinking about changing jobs, doing something different, giving up on the orchestra. But, if he told her now, he’d also have to tell her why he hadn’t told her before.
And he’d lose his escape route, if everything with her fell apart.
He remembered how he’d felt when she’d pushed him away last night. How painful it had felt in every way.
He just couldn’t let himself be completely trapped in a situation that had such potential for tearing him apart.
He thought about his parents’ marriage—how much freedom and how little pressure they both felt. He wondered if he could ever get to that point with Marissa.
That was what he wanted.
“I’m happy with my job,” he lied—instinctively, automatically, without hesitation. The way he always lied about anything that might worry or disappoint her. “I’m not looking around.”
She looked relieved, and he let out the breath he’d been holding.
Their server in the small café came over to take their orders just then.
When the man left the table, Caleb noticed a shift in Marissa’s mood and manner. She adjusted uncomfortably in her seat, as if she had to say something unpleasant and was trying to work up the courage.
> “Is there something you want to say to me?” he asked mildly, when she didn’t start speaking.
“Not really. I don’t want to. But, yeah, I guess we should talk about it a little bit more. After last night.”
It was only then he realized she’d completely changed the subject.
Watching her discomfort with bringing up the topic, he started to feel a little awkward himself.
“You still won’t tell me about whatever happened when you were a kid that prompted all of this?” He kept his voice cool. As if he weren’t desperately invested in her response.
“It’s all too messy and complicated. I really am trying to work things out with my therapist.” She sighed and looked down at her hands in her lap. “I know this isn’t fair to you.”
Caleb scowled and felt an unexpected wave of resentment. “What’s not fair? That I couldn't jump you the minute we got together? Do you really think I’m so selfish and demanding as to expect that from you?” She opened her mouth to launch an immediate defense, but he spoke over her. “Marissa, not every couple starts having sex immediately. Waiting a month or so isn’t unusual, and that includes couples who aren't faced with your particular…” He couldn’t find the right word.
“…psychosis,” she finished for him glumly.
He frowned at her choice of words. “I’m not going to rush you, but it’s not because I’m some noble martyr. I want to have sex with you, and I’ll be thrilled when we can. But I’m not some Neanderthal who wanders around at the will of his cock. Sex isn’t the only part of our relationship I’m interested in.” He took a deep breath, spoke the next words, hoping they didn’t sound too trite. “I care about you, and that means I want to be with you in ways that aren’t only sexual.”
The tension in her face eased, and she smiled at him, obviously touched. Then a flash of amusement transformed her expression. “How long did you work on that little speech?”
“I did a little thinking last night after I left you. I might have composed a short homily of things I wanted to say. Some of them I might have mentioned just now.” There was safety in humor, but sometimes it was purely defensive. So he added, “But that doesn’t make it less true.”