All I Need

by Karen Stivali

  It was her junior year at NYU and she’d grown restless with the guys she’d been dating. She decided it was time to bump up her long range plan, and play catch-up with her brothers. They were all either engaged or married and Justine was still the child, the little girl. A husband, a permanent male fixture by her side, rather than an unknown cast of characters accompanying her to weddings and events, would certainly help her to be looked at as older, taken more seriously.

  The problem was finding someone. It’s not that she hadn’t been trying—she went on dates like no other twenty-year-old, with nearly fevered determination—it’s just that her dates were far from ideal. And to be her husband, a man needed to be as close to perfect as one could get. Not an easy find. Older men were too boring and unappealing. She tried an up and coming actor, but he’d been conceited and not at all focused on her. She dated a member of a successful band, but he’d been so coked up and strung out he’d scared her. Plus she’d nearly passed out while waiting for the results of her AIDS tests after she’d realized how many women he’d screwed. Deciding she never wanted to go through that kind of stress and worry ever again, she became even more determined to find a man she could stand to be with on a permanent basis.

  She was narrowing her list of acceptable candidates with almost frightening speed and was beginning to wonder if the guy she was looking for even existed. Then she heard some girls talking in the cafeteria.

  “There he is,” one whispered.

  “Where? Where? Oh my God, you’re right. It’s him.”

  Justine grew curious.

  “Holy shit, he’s even more gorgeous in person,” another voice said. Justine still had no idea whom they were talking about, but she was definitely curious. She glanced around in an attempt to see.

  “I’ve heard he’s shy.”

  “So have I. My friend Bonnie tried to talk to him in French class. She said he was flustered the whole time.”

  “My boyfriend knows one of his suitemates and told me Daniel is completely freaked out by all the attention he’s getting.”

  Justine scanned the cafeteria, eyes narrowed. Who is this Daniel person? All these people look so ordinary.

  “Well, can you even imagine? One day you’re just a student walking around, minding your own business and the next day you’re on the cover of the freaking Voice.”

  The word “Voice” made Justine snap to attention. She’d seen a copy on the chair at the far end of her table. She slid over and reached for it. Her breath caught in her throat. The guy on the cover was decidedly hot. Not classically beautiful, features a tad asymmetrical, nose a little curved to one side, but the look, his eyes, his expression, the overall image--striking. And he’s here?

  “There he is, there he is, he’s getting juice,” one of the girls whispered, her voice frantic, the desire palpable.

  Justine turned toward the drink counter, and sure enough, there he was. He looked different than his photo. More innocent, less sultry. He was tall and thin, and practically hunched over, as if he was trying to disappear rather than be noticed. She watched him move. No less than five girls crossed his path and tried to speak to him as he made his way to the table where his friends sat. He looked embarrassed, dark red splotches highlighted both sculpted cheekbones. His friends laughed and patted him on the back.

  She scanned the article, noting his name and the fact that he was in her year, but there were no other details, he was just the face they’d chosen for their expose on the unknown futures of today’s college students. That’s not nearly enough information. Sure, he’s gorgeous, but who is he? She needed to know and she planned to find out.

  No information was off-limits. She got the desk clerk to acknowledge that Daniel resided at Hayden hall with one soulful look, and it only took slightly more effort to coax the blushing, acne-scarred registrar’s assistant into handing over a copy of Daniel’s class schedule.

  She found out he was an English major, and was regarded in the department as a “promising writer”. Everyone seemed to have a positive impression of him. No dirt. Nothing scandalous. Not gay. No string of broken-hearted women complaining that he was a womanizing ass. No roommates requesting room changes because he was weird or obnoxious.

  The only puzzling thing was that he didn’t appear to have a girlfriend. That struck her as odd, because he was very attractive and could clearly have his pick of any of the women who were following him around campus trying to get a glimpse of him.

  Justine decided he was worth getting to know better. From what she’d learned she realized the best way to do that would be by not letting on that she knew anything whatsoever about any cover photos. It needed to look like a chance encounter and she had to make sure that he pursued her, because the women who were attempting to pursue him seemed to be meeting with no luck at all.

  She started dining at Hayden regularly, at times when his schedule would make it likely he might be eating. Within a week she saw her opportunity. She waited in the lobby until he entered the dining hall, then followed him inside. There were almost no empty seats.

  The food line was extra long so Justine opted for a glass of soda as she watched him fill his tray. There was one table emptying on the far side of the room and he appeared to be making his way toward it. She scooted around the side of the room, reaching the table before him.

  This is almost too easy. She put her drink down and slipped into a chair seconds before he arrived.

  “Do you mind if I sit here?” he asked, and to her surprise she heard a British accent. She’d done her homework, but she hadn’t known about that. She liked being surprised. It didn’t happen all that often.

  “No, go ahead,” she said.

  “I’m Daniel.” He extended his hand. Coming from anyone else this gesture would have seemed phony, but he performed it with such sincerity she found it charming.

  “Justine.” She smiled as their fingers touched.

  She kept the conversation casual, but tried to be as friendly as possible. She hated small talk and she knew most guys did too, so she chose her words with care, saying just enough. And it worked. She walked with him to their next class, and before they parted ways he asked her if she’d like to have a drink.

  To make matters even better he seemed nice. She was used to men who wanted her and fawned all over her. She was also used to men who looked down at her, like her brothers and father. Solidly nice wasn’t something she ran across very often. It piqued her interest even further regarding how much potential Daniel might have as her future husband.

  That evening they’d talked and laughed for hours over drinks and French fries, which he’d insisted on calling chips, even after she’d corrected him. His fingers intertwined with hers as he walked her home. She liked the feel of his hand on hers, warm and strong. When they got to her building he’d pulled her aside, his thumb tracing over her wrist in a way that made her heart flutter.

  “Can I ring you?” he asked.

  “Sure.” She wrote her number on a slip of paper and watched as he placed it in his wallet, hoping he actually would call.

  “I guess this is good night then.” His head tilted and he hesitated for a moment, making Justine hold her breath as she waited to see if he’d kiss her. Then his mouth was on hers, firm but gentle. He cupped the back of her head with one hand and placed the other on her cheek as his lips moved sensually over hers, leaving her breathless. She was impressed and more than a little turned on. Serious potential.

  He held eye contact for a moment then gave her a smile she felt all the way to her toes. He tucked his hands in his pockets as he backed away. “Sleep well.”

  Watching him go it took every ounce of self-control not to call after him. Ask him to come up to her room. She would have slept with him that night, based on that kiss, but she knew she had to take her time.

  After a few more dates she had him right where she wanted him. He was clearly attracted to her, kissing her with increasing passion each time they were together,
yet he remained frustratingly gentlemanly. She knew he was aroused, could feel it in the touch of his exquisitely long fingers, could feel it, sometimes see it in his pants, which bulged with significant promise each time they kissed, yet he wasn’t pressuring her for sex. Not wanting to scare him off, but also not wanting to wait anymore, Justine decided she was ready to make the next move.

  She was a resident assistant at Weinstein, so she had a single. There was no roommate to worry about, never mind the three suitemates she knew Daniel had to contend with over at Hayden. She picked a night and prepared. She’d made sure to be intimacy-ready since the first day she’d made contact with Daniel but she wanted this night to be a guaranteed success. She wanted everything playing to her advantage. This was not the time to make mistakes.

  As she dressed for their date she felt a nervous anticipation she’d never experienced before. The wait for him to pick her up for dinner seemed eternal.

  He arrived looking drop-dead sexy in a deep grey dress shirt, open at the collar allowing just a glimpse of chest hair, and faded jeans slung low on his slim hips. Button-fly, she noted. Her fingers itched to undo each button.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  “Starving,” she said, though food was the last thing she was craving.

  “Mexican okay?”

  “Absolutely.” She was fine with anything as long as it was close by so they could go back to her place as quickly as possible afterward.

  Caliente Cab Company was crowded, as usual, but they managed to get a table. The waitress came over after a moment.

  “I’ll have the grilled chicken salad with the guacamole on the side,” Justine said.

  “And what can I get you?” The waitress eyed Daniel with a look Justine had gotten used to seeing. She loved the way other women looked at him, loved knowing they all wanted what she had.

  “Can I get a burger, please? Well done, with cheddar cheese and extra tomato.”

  “Absolutely.” The waitress flashed a smile then bit her lip for a second. “Anything else?”

  Daniel glanced at Justine. “Nachos?”

  “Sure.” Justine tried not to laugh at his pronunciation.

  “And an order of nachos, thanks.”

  As soon as the waitress turned Daniel picked up Justine’s hand and the fluttery sensation returned with a vengeance. “What are you smirking about?” His eyes searched hers, deep green and irresistibly sexy.

  “You. With your extra tom-ahhh-to and your order of natch-os.”

  His lips tugged into a grin. “You find that amusing, do you?”

  “I have to admit, the accent’s quite appealing.”

  “Well I’m glad to hear that. It got me into more than my share of trouble when I first moved to the States.”

  Justine was intrigued. “Oh, really? Do tell.”

  “I think the worst was probably the first day at my American high school. It was mid term and I’d arrived on an exam day. The teacher had me take the exam anyway so he could see if I was in roughly the same place as his students. I was so bloody nervous I kept making mistakes so I asked the girl next to me if I could borrow a rubber.”

  Justine burst out laughing. “You didn’t.”

  “Oh, I did. She looked at me like I had four heads. I’d no idea she was thinking I’d just asked her for a condom, all I wanted was what I now know you Americans refer to as an eraser.”

  Justine continued to giggle. “So what happened?”

  “I wound up crossing out my answers instead of erasing them and the girl asked the teacher to let her move seats the next day.”

  “Her loss.” Justine said, thinking that if he’d asked her for a rubber she’d gladly hand him a condom and help him put it to use.

  After dinner, they strolled through Washington Square Park. Justine bought an Italian ice and ate it while they walked, enjoying how hard Daniel swallowed each time he watched her take a lick. By the time they made their way back to her room she knew they were both more than ready. She struggled to keep from laughing at the number of times he shifted uncomfortably in his noticeably tightening jeans.

  She entered her room with him, casually laid her purse on the desk, then started to remove her earrings. She knew she needed to wait for him to initiate things, although she was dying to pull him down onto her bed and get started.

  She didn’t have to wait long. The second earring was still in her hand when he scooped her into his arms. He kissed her hungrily, the delicate, subtle passion of their first kiss giving way to a much more animalistic urge. His hands skimmed over her body, in a far less awkward manner than most guys their age. His long fingers traced the line of her spine under her shirt. She responded by peeling the clingy cotton top off her body, loving the way his eyes darkened at the sight of her lacy white bra.

  He returned to kissing her, which she enjoyed more than she could even believe. The man could kiss. His tongue swirled around hers in a manner so suggestive and intoxicating she found it impossible to hold a thought. She’d never been so aroused from something as simple as kissing. Usually when she was kissing she was going over a to-do list, or fantasizing about something else to get herself excited. With Daniel she couldn’t imagine thinking about anything other than him.

  He lay alongside her, pressing against her through their clothes. Feeling him long and hard against her was making her crazy. She wanted more. She ground against him with such precision she came, moaning into his mouth. Momentarily lost in her own pleasure she fleetingly thought about the reaction her body was having. It shocked and almost frightened her. Daniel. His name repeated in her mind on an endless loop.

  As she regained her composure she wondered if she hadn’t gone too far and made him come too. She realized he hadn’t and was impressed by his self-control. Most guys she’d been with would have lost it by then. Daniel, to her delight, was clearly still quite ready.

  She didn’t want to wait any longer. They maneuvered out of their clothing. She gasped as she wrapped her fingers around him. He was insanely hard, his skin silky and smooth, like buttery leather warmed by the sun. She wanted him. “I have condoms,” she said, reaching past him to flip open her jewelry box.

  “Thank God,” he said, taking the packet from her. His British accent was even stronger when he was aroused, and the urgency in his voice made her tremble.

  She propped herself on her elbow, watching as he rolled it on. Quivers of anticipation ran through her. She couldn’t wait another second. “Now,” she whispered into his ear.

  He obliged, moaning as he slid into her. The heat from his body warmed her from within, creating sensations she’d never experienced before. They moved together, matching each other’s rhythm and she became lost in the moment, never wanting it to end.

  He tensed and began to expand inside her. She knew he was nearing his limit and she’d have to act fast if she didn’t want to fake it. Not that she couldn’t have faked an incredibly convincing orgasm. She’d done it countless times. But this was different somehow. She was feeling new levels of hunger, greed and desire, and she wanted this one to be real.

  Make it happen, make it happen, she chanted, swiveling against him, harder. She felt him thrust even deeper and with one loud groan he pulsated inside her. It was all she’d needed. The final push, the throbbing, was enough to send her over the brink and she came. In spite of multiple efforts she’d never had a simultaneous orgasm with any other partner. She was speechless as she lay beside him, both of them panting. He leaned over to kiss her again, and the gentle, sensual passion of their first kiss was evident in his lips. She decided then and there, he was the one. She was certain Daniel could become everything she wanted him to be.

  ***

  “We’re ready to begin,” the minister whispered to Daniel, guiding him a step closer to the altar as he took his place behind the pulpit.

  The harpist played the first notes of Bach’s Arioso and Justine’s mother made her way down the aisle, smiling on the arm of her youngest son, Thomas.
The music transported Daniel back in time, to his childhood. Every Sunday he’d awaken to the aroma of scones baking and the delicate strains of Bach or Vivaldi coming from his mum’s stereo. Hearing it now, he could practically smell the coffee brewing. It felt as if a part of her was there with him.

  Thomas kissed his mother and waited until she was seated, then took his place beside Travis and Brent, alongside Daniel. The first bridesmaid began her slow, rhythmic march down the long carpet. Daniel had to stifle a laugh as he took in her flowing dress. Lavender.

  ***

  He’d come home one day a few months earlier to find Justine seated on the living room floor, surrounded by fabric samples. He’d called the color silver and Justine had practically taken his head off. “They’re lavender. They’ll match the Sterling roses I want in the bouquets.”

  “But Sterling is silver.” He loved to annoy her.

  Even angry she was stunningly beautiful. Her eyes sparkled like twin jewels as she stared at him with defiance. “Fine, they’re a silvery lavender. Happy now?”

  “Delighted.” He fingered one of the swatches, the silky fabric cool and slippery. “Does this mean you’ve settled on a dress?”

  Justine’s brow furrowed. “No. Not for the wedding party. But I put a deposit on my gown this morning.”

  “That’s big news. Is it one of the ones in here?” He plucked the Bride’s Magazine off the coffee table and flipped it open. Justine promptly yanked it from his hands.

  “Give me that.” She shoved it under the couch.

  “So it is in there.” He tried to reach past her, but she blocked him. “Let’s have a look.”

  “No.” She shoved him hard. “It’s bad luck.”

  Daniel had been shocked. Of the two of them he was always much more superstitious—he blamed it on his mum, with her insistence on throwing a pinch of spilt salt over her shoulder, or touching wood, just in case. Justine was usually far too logical to even consider such foolish precautions. “I thought you didn’t believe in bad luck.”