A Capital Mistake

by Kennedy Cross

  “They’re chicken croquettes. It’s chicken coated in bread with a creole sauce. And asparagus, obviously.”

  “Damn,” Noah marvels, his eyes perusing around his plate. “I’m impressed.”

  “You have to try it before you say that,” I say. And on cue, he takes a bite. The look on his face tells me all I need to know and I silently applaud myself. This was a good choice.

  He doesn’t speak until he’s swallowed. “My God. Even better than they look.”

  My cheeks wrinkle in a grin. He takes another bite and I take my first, although I’ve made these little guys more times than I can remember.

  “Thanks for cooking all this,” he says after a moment. “I mean it. This is really nice. It outdoes anything I can make.”

  “I’m happy to do it,” I say, which is the truth. I’m happy to be here. In Noah’s house. The two of us sitting and eating together again.

  There’s something about his company that feels right.

  “Thanks for showing me your gallery. Well—your home gallery, I should say.”

  He chuckles. “You’re welcome. You’re the first to see it.”

  “Really? Did you just get it all unpacked?”

  “No, that was actually one of the first rooms I set up. But I don’t know.” He shrugs his classic Noah-shrug. “No one else has ever asked.”

  I return a warm smile in response.

  I’m wording a reply when Noah says, “You know, I’ve never asked what you do for work?”

  “You sure you want to know?” I ask, mostly a joke, but my job has caused more than one date to abandon ship.

  His eyebrows arch. “What? You a government spy or something?”

  “You think I’d tell you if I was?”

  We eye each other in a mock stare down until I cave in. “No, I’m a homicide detective,” I say in between laughs.

  “Really?”

  I nod. “Is that surprising?”

  “A little,” he says. His tone has an inflection I’m not entirely sure how to interpret. “I mean—” He pauses. “—you don’t exactly look like you drive around eating donuts all day.”

  “Weird, that’s definitely all I do.”

  Noah joins me in laughing. “No, I’m kidding. But wow. That can’t be easy.” There’s sincerity mixed into the deep green of his eyes.

  “It’s not, but I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

  He nods, his sincerity seeping into his smile. “I really admire that.”

  “Thank you,” I say. A lingering smile settles on my face. “That’s kind of refreshing to hear.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know, I guess sometimes I worry it has a stigma to it.”

  His eyebrows bunch together and he stares back at me with exaggerated confusion.

  “It’s different as a female,” I add.

  His eyebrows pull even tighter before his expression crumbles in a laugh. “What kind of stigma does gallery manager have to it then, huh?”

  That makes me give into a laugh too. I reach for my glass of wine, but suddenly Noah is around the island and in front of me. His fingers brush down my cheeks, settling on my chin before lifting my lips to his.

  I stand up, placing both my palms on his chest. His lips part and catch my bottom lip between them. When he lets go I feel his breath in my ear, “Do you want this as much as I do?” he whispers.

  “Yes,” I breathe. I can’t resist him any longer. It’s all I’ve been craving and it’s finally here. I’m his.

  Fully and entirely his.

  His lips return to mine, sending liquid electricity through me as he pulls me closer. He uses his grasp to pin me against the counter. I turn my head, embracing the way he’s caged me while his lips tease down my neck.

  He reaches under my shirt and clenches my breasts before pulling my bra down and pinching my nipples between his fingers. My breath grows choppy. He releases them to slowly pull my shirt over my head. His hands graze down my back, inducing goose bumps until he finds my bra strap and unhinges it. I look down and watch it fall to the floor.

  The sight is short-lived. Noah bends down and takes my exposed nipple softly between his teeth. I close my eyes. My breath is heavy and ragged now, and when I gulp the air between us it tastes blissfully like his cologne.

  I force my eyes open and pull his shirt over his head. His skin is tanned and soft and I run my hands down his chest, my fingers tracing over his rippled abs. When they fall off he moves them back to his chest and starts unbuckling my jeans.

  I roam my fingers over the hard lines of his chiseled torso while he pulls my pants down to my ankles. I step out of them and his hands run down my sides until they settle on my hips, his fingers curling under the straps of my thong.

  Our tongues continuing to tangle as his hand dips into my panties. He clasps me in his palm, his middle finger gently circling my clit. I break off our kiss to gasp for air as his rubbing grows faster and a tingling pleasure courses through my legs. He pulls my panties down to my ankles and his hands begin roaming my entire figure.

  I’m naked in Noah’s kitchen.

  Slowly he guides me back to my stool. I sit down as he lowers to his knees. He pushes me thighs open and nestles his head between my legs. He licks a light trial up, then takes me between his teeth, pushing back and forth with his tongue.

  I scoot to the edge of the stool to give him full access, groaning as he intensifies. My back bows and I lean back, gripping the edge of the stool. I shut my eyes and grab a fistful of his thick hair.

  He holds my trembling thighs tight to the seat. My toes curl. The sensation is almost too much to handle. My every cell is tingling and I fill the air with my loudest moan yet.

  The pressure of his tongue is blissfully warm. His grip tightens around my thighs until I finally lose control.

  My orgasm brings out another long moan. My back arches so intensely that Noah’s hold is the only thing keeping me from falling off the stool.

  I lean back while he stands and wipes his chin. I’m gripping the counter with both hands and panting, still in a state of recovery when his fingers brush the hair from my face. He interrupts my heavy breathing with a kiss, his passion not diminished in the slightest.

  His lips don’t leave mine as he whispers, “Let’s go upstairs.”

  I nod, my eyes closed, and suddenly I’m being lifted. He catches my ass in his arms and I wrap my legs around his waist, but he doesn’t even need it. He’s carrying me through the living room as if I weigh nothing at all.

  We begin up the stairs. His biceps are flexed against my legs and his back muscles are firm under my hands. His arms, his chest, his shoulders, everything is cut like they’re made of marble. He’s having absolutely no trouble carrying my entire weight up the stairs and down the hall.

  We pass under the frame of his door and he kicks it shut behind us. A second later he releases me from his arms and I fall onto the bed, landing with my back slat against his sheets. Noah kneels in front of me, his torso illuminated by a dim light from the lamp beside his bed.

  “Hold up,” I say, pulling him into the sheets. I kneel over him, relishing in his look of anticipation. “You have some catching up to do.”

  “I’ve been waiting,” he chides. “I’ve never seem them disappear on their own.”

  I smirk and intentionally graze over his stiff shaft as I pull off his pants. He’s wearing black Calvin Klein briefs made of smooth polyester. He’s hard, long, and perfectly outlined under their tight fit. I graze over it again before pulling those off, too.

  And finally—Noah’s naked body is lying in front of me. His entire, smooth, dark, sculpted, body. And I want all of it.

  Another gush of energy rushes through me. Another overwhelming crave—because I may have been satisfied… but I have yet to get the real deal. And that’s what I want.

  I lean over until my nipples are pressed against his chest. With one hand I reach down and hold his cock as I whisper i
n his ear, “I want you Noah.”

  He grips behind my neck and kisses me.

  “Do you have a condom?” I ask with my lips on his. He plants another kiss, then rolls over and begins digging viciously through the drawer of his bedside table. I take the opportunity to watch the muscles on his back tighten and smooth until he rolls over again, pinching a small purple square between two fingers. He rips at the plastic and pulls it on. I climb over him and he kisses me as if we hadn’t been interrupted at all.

  His hands are on my hips. At first there’s only the intensity of our kiss, then Noah pushes my hips down and drives deep into me. He’s hard and thick and my pussy clamps around him in pure ecstasy. He feels incredible.

  I throw my head back and groan. Noah holds my ass tight in his hands, guiding me slowly up and down.

  Then moves me faster.

  And faster.

  He’s pumping and I’m bouncing in his lap. He slaps my ass and I breathe his name through my teeth.

  He slows down, driving his shaft as deep as it’ll go. My legs are numb. He clenches my ass with both hands and we speed back up. I’m bouncing rapidly up and down again, moaning with his every entry.

  Suddenly he pushes me back against the sheets and throws my feet over his shoulders. I lock them against the rigid cliff of his traps and he leans over to kiss me as he reenters.

  He’s so thick that he strokes my clit with every heave. His abs flex as he rocks back and forth, his thrusts slow and deep. There’s a thin layer of sweat on his chest. He speeds up, my thighs slapping his legs every time his hips drive into me.

  “Yes Noah,” I breathe. “You feel so good.”

  He leans over and grabs my breasts as his thrusting slows, just for a moment, while he nibbles my shoulder. Then he regains his speed, his hips slapping my thighs. The new vigor overwhelms me.

  “Yes,” I moan again. He’s unleashing me in a way I’ve never felt. I take a fistful of sheets and bite them to muffle my moaning.

  I release when he pulls me back onto his lap. He throws his head back as he pumps in and out. I feel another orgasm beginning to overtake me and I twist his hair in my fist.

  “Oh God,” I yell.

  He spanks my ass, squeezing it in his hand. He uses his grip to push me back and forth and I begin rocking my hips to his rhythm. I claw down his back as his cock presses against my clit and shoots liquid electricity through my veins. My back bows and I yank his hair and scream his name one final time as I’m overcome with a rush of triumphant ecstasy.

  At the same time he surges into me, pushing my hips down and holding me against him as he huffs heavy breaths. His abs tense as he thrusts once more.

  He holds my hips and leans back, and I feel him slide out of me as I fall into his chest. I look up at him and his lips instantly find mine in a soft kiss.

  I’m enveloped in his fragrance and it’s the only thing I want to breathe. His fingers graze lightly up and down my back as his tongue entwines with mine.

  Gradually, he shifts me so that I’m lying beside him. He breaks our kiss and reaches over me to shut off the lamp.

  Then his lips return.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Noah

  And… she’s late. It’s 10 a.m., I’m parked at the edge of Franklin Playground, and Savannah’s officially late.

  She usually is, but today it’s annoying me more than it should. I have the urge to step out from the car and pace while I wait, but turning into some guy wandering aimlessly by a playground is probably worse than forcing myself to sit still.

  I take a breath, glance at the paper bag sitting on the passenger seat and scold myself for becoming frustrated.

  I’m here for Grayson. And I would drive to the end of the map for that kid.

  I relax my hands on the steering wheel. Savannah’s not the real reason I’m agitated anyway. It’s Sophia.

  It’s this curse that follows me in everything I do.

  She’s fucking incredible. And she’s a cop.

  Of course.

  Why can’t she be an accountant? Or a doctor, or teacher, or anything else?

  No—she works one of the only jobs that directly risks everything I do. And how fucked is that? She’s everything I could ask for, yet our lives couldn’t be more incompatible.

  My life has always been empty, but I’ve never felt this caged by the void in my chest. The same void that I considered normal, until I met Sophia.

  Yesterday was amazing. She’s amazing. But this is everything I’ve tried to avoid.

  And as hard as it was, the only thing I could think to do was scribble a note before I left.

  Have a good day. Don’t call again.

  Short, blunt, and painful as hell to write.

  I lean my head back and rub out the stiff tension in my forehead. It hurt, but it was the choice I had to make. We can’t afford to see each other again. And now it’s back to a life of stressful pressure, of looking over my shoulder, of exhausting everyday just to pass time under the radar. Of emptiness.

  This is my fault. I didn’t break my rule, but I might as well have. This is worse.

  This is like touching your tongue to a frozen pole when you know that it’ll hurt like hell to rip it off.

  Actually, it’s even worse. Pole’s don’t have emotions, Sophia does. And I didn’t do them any favors. Not when she has to wake up to a note like that after having such a good time all evening before. It was selfish and stupid and everything in between. And if Owen or Cliff were to find out…

  I don’t even notice when a maroon Civic pulls into the spot to my left. I’m gaping out the window and staring blankly at the playground when Savannah emerges in the corner of my eye. Her tapping on the window shakes me out of a trance.

  I open the door and chilly morning air greets me before Savannah’s warm body embraces me in a hug. She asks if I’m okay and I muster a poorly faked yes as I go to open the back door of the Civic.

  Grayson’s wide-open mouth and several tiny stray teeth beam up at me. He’s flapping his arms like little wings, his infant body confined in an oversized car seat. It’s a sight that floods me with supreme happiness.

  “Hey buddy,” I coo, unbuckling his straps. I pick him up and my cheeks coil in a giddy smile. “How you doin’, huh?” I sit him in my arms and ruffle his thin wispy hair.

  His eyes are so big and round that they fill his face. They’re like two bright green marbles gleaming with a glow of new life.

  The same color my brother’s were.

  I puff out my cheeks and blow air between my lips, then tickle his belly when he spouts in laughter. The sound is music to my ears.

  These are the moments when everything pauses and there’s no frustration, no stress, no next job. Nothing but my godson and me. Nothing but the divine feeling of his weight in my arms, as if I’m holding the only truly valuable piece of the world.

  “Is he starting to settle into the meds?” I ask Savannah.

  She cocks her head and makes a face I know all too well. “Today’s been better,” she murmurs.

  I nod and shift my gaze back to Grayson. So strong but so fragile. He’s thirteen months old and he’s already been through more than most adults my age. More pain, more medications, more grueling trips to the hospital. And with no perception of life outside of the agony brought on by a condition entirely out of his control.

  “Do they seem to help?” I ask.

  “I don’t know.” She shakes her head woefully. “Not enough to avoid a catheter procedure,” she adds, spitting the words out as if they physically hurt.

  “We’ve got to do what he needs, Savannah.” I look at her while Grayson plays with the zipper on my jacket. “Whatever it is.”

  She bites her lip. “He still cries for hours sometimes,” she says, reaching to hold his dangling foot between her fingers. “The doctors say he’s probably reacting to some tightness in his chest and that there’s nothing I can do.”

  I nod my understanding.

 
“I’m worried about him.”

  “I know.” I scratch up and down Savannah’s back as she dries a tear before it escapes. “He’s going to be okay. We’ll make sure of it.” I bounce Grayson in my arms. “Yeah, you’ll be good, won’t ‘cha? There’s no taking you down, dude.”

  Savannah’s lips curl, stopping just short of a smile. “He’s getting bigger,” she says softly.

  “Yeah, no kidding. He’s going to be big like his dad one day, aren’t ya?”

  “He looks just like him,” she says. “It’s like he got all of Kris’s genes and nothing from me.” She chuckles feebly and I smile. A few years ago, I would’ve laughed in the face of anyone that told me their infant looked more like one parent or the other. All babies are blubbery fat and skin blended into something with a mouth and eyes, I would’ve said. And I would’ve been wrong.

  Everything about Grayson’s infant face resembles my brother’s. Biology might require two willing participants, but this is my brother’s son.

  With Grayson still in my arms, I open my car door and sit on the side of the seat as I retrieve the paper bag. Savannah takes the money and shoves it in her jacket pocket while I bounce Grayson on my knee.

  “That’s five-grand. You can go ahead and put it towards the meds and insurance for now, but as soon as you talk to the doctors about—” My sentence cuts as my entire mouth goes dry. I hold my stare on the lump in her belly before glaring into her eyes. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  Savannah’s hands dart to her stomach in an attempt to cover what can’t be hidden. She looks at the ground, her lips pursed.

  “Savannah, are you fucking serious?” I fix Grayson in my arm and get to my feet. My next sentence falters before I can even begin as a million thoughts cloud out the words. I shut my eyes and embrace the darkness before opening again. “How long?”

  She shrugs, her stare glued to the ground.

  “You don’t even know?” I let that hang in the air between us. “Tell me you know who—”

  “Three months,” she murmurs.

  I suck in a heavy breath. “Three months, huh?” My jaw clinches and I begin to nod. “Three months. Isn’t that awesome?”