But First, Coffee

by Sarah Darlington

  Pressing the palms of her hands and her weight on my knees, she stared at me. I could see the nervousness but also the playfulness on her face as she eyed my substantial erection. The sunlight streamed in through the windows, everything I had to offer her in broad daylight, as she seemed to be debating in her mind. I was about to grab her by the waist and pull her onto the bed with me when she dropped to her knees, nudging my legs apart, bringing her lips to the tip of my cock.

  I sucked in a sharp breath.

  Her hand circled the base as she kissed the tip of my cock and flicked her tongue across my skin. Her eyes were locked on mine. I was frozen in time, watching her, completely at her mercy.

  “I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered. “I don’t want to do it wrong.”

  “That’s not possible. It’s you—you couldn’t fuck this up even if you tried. You’re— Oh my, God! Lana, holy shit,” I choked on my words as she went for it and sucked me deep into her mouth.

  This was heaven. Pure freaking heaven as she moved against me, sucking, licking, tasting. I dug my hands into her hair, tugging lightly, cursing and loving this.

  After a moment, she freed me from her mouth and pushed my body backward. Then she crawled on top of me. My heart raced like it was on speed watching her as she straddled me, spreading her legs wide against me, and started to guide my erection inside her warmth.

  Her mouth dropped open at our contact.

  Hell, this right here—entering her—it was so much better than any drug or drink in this world. Some girls were shy in the daylight—but the daylight seemed like the least of her concerns.

  She eyed me, looking for help, as we were met with some resistance. She was wet, but I was still big and she was still a petite woman. This would always be an issue we faced during the first moments of sex. But it was an easily resolved issue.

  I dipped my thumb into my mouth, and then pressed in against her little pink clit, moving in circles as she began to move against me. Her body stretched and accommodated me, and after a moment, she fell into a rhythm.

  It was pure bliss—watching her do the work, moving on top of me. I traced my hands up over her stomach, squeezing her soft breasts gently as she moved. Her mouth dropped open in ecstasy as she rode me, harder and harder, rougher and rougher. I could tell she was getting closer to orgasm as the little noises she’d been making grew needy and loud. Hell, I’d barely be able to last another minute myself. After a second though, I quickly realized something. “This is the same position I was raped in,” I said the words out loud.

  “Oh, Jesus, I’m so sorry,” Lana apologized, stopping instantly, trying to move off me.

  I caught her waist, keeping her firmly in place on top of me. “No, this is perfect. This is what I need. When I close my eyes, this image of you, right here . . . this is what I want in my mind. Never her again. Only you. I only want to see you. Forever.”

  Tears formed in Lana’s eyes. I hadn’t meant to ruin the moment. Watching her on top of me had been nothing short of perfection, but I think I’d screwed it all up by bringing attention to it.

  “I’m sorry. That was a lot of me to ask from you.”

  “No.” She leaned over and slowly kissed my lips. “I want to do this. Just keep doing that thing you do with your thumb.”

  “Yeah?” I smiled.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  I could do that. I’d do anything for her. I dipped my thumb into my mouth once more—tasting a trace of her on my skin—before I brought my thumb back in place against her swollen little spot. I began to move in the circles I now knew drove her wild.

  Everything intensified.

  I hadn’t meant to change the dynamic of this, but I had. This suddenly wasn’t about fucking or getting off. It wasn’t about who was leading who. It wasn’t even about getting over the demons of my past. It was only about Lana and the intensity of which I was falling in love with her.

  I sat up, holding her face tight, kissing her mouth with all those feelings that ran through me, before I lifted her body and brought her back down on the bed, changing our position.

  I needed more leverage.

  I needed deeper.

  I needed to feel her shatter under me.

  CHAPTER 27

  LANA

  Joe was relentless. I’d never felt so connected to another person in my whole life. He moved me like he could read my mind about what I wanted next, and almost instantly, a warm rush of euphoria lit up my entire body. From the hairs on my head to the tips of my toes, I felt this burst of energy roll through me. I cried out, gripping his arms tightly, needing him to know I never wanted this to end. Joe was like a drug, the best freaking drug in the world, and he didn’t even stop there.

  My cries seemed to fuel him.

  He moved, thrusting harder, faster, deeper, touching me again exactly the way I told him I liked. My first orgasm blurred into a second and then a third.

  My thoughts—I couldn’t contain them. My body—I lost control of it. My heart—it beat like a runaway train. Until Joe slowed, and I felt him pulse deep inside me, reaching his climax too. He pressed his forehead against mine, his hair damp with sweat, his breath mixing with mine, as he whispered a few curse words against my lips.

  He also whispered something else.

  “I love you.”

  I was coming off an orgasm of my own. My body full-on tingling. My heart swelling as it was. Feeling giddy and warm, in a hazy glow with him still buried inside me. So, I didn’t know what to think, or if I’d imagined in completely. But his words squeezed my heart like a vice.

  Joe pulled out, collapsing on his stomach on the bed beside me. He laid with one of his arms draped lazily across my chest. I traced my fingers over his firm bicep, staring up at an ornate, gold ceiling with pictures of flowers painted on it. Had he said what I think he said?

  I was kind of freaking out because no man had ever said that to me. Except for Doug, one random night in April, during spring semester of my freshman year. The words coming from Doug had been unexpected and unwanted. The words coming from Joe—equally unexpected but ridiculously amazing to hear. My heart swelled with so much joy, but that only made this all the more terrifying.

  I’d pegged him right on day one. Joe was so far outside of the fucking box. And I liked that about him the most. I only hoped he was as picky as I was when it came to love. Before that woman raped him, from what I’d gathered, he had tons and tons of sex with, basically, whoever without being picky. What if I was just the woman who helped him get over his rapist? Like a temporary bandage. And once he healed, he’d be back to being just as he was before—not picky and not interested in only me.

  I didn’t want to share.

  I didn’t want this to be temporary.

  He sat up in bed, moving over me, peppering my face with a few quick kisses that I couldn’t help but laugh at. “Come on. Let’s get dressed,” he uttered. “I’m going to show you the most touristy things I know in this city.”

  He was adamant.

  I was hesitant.

  He was out of the bed, pulling his clothes on before I had a chance to even process. He hadn’t commented on his three little words, which made me wonder if he even realized he’d said them. A minute later, I still laid in the bed while he was already slipping on his shoes—back in the jeans and T-shirt he’d worn before our meeting.

  The look of excitement on his handsome face was too much to deny. Grabbing the sheet from the bed in place around my body, I collected my clothes, and then headed to the bathroom to change.

  “See, woman,” he said when I came back out, dressed again in my suit, blouse, and work heels, “this is why you always pack an overnight bag with a change of clothes. If my parents taught me anything in life—God help them—they taught me that much.”

  I smacked his arm as he joked with me. But he made a good point. I wasn’t looking forward to wearing this outfit for whatever touristy things his restless mind was concocting.


  “Whatever. I’m fine.”

  We headed out and for the elevators once more.

  All Joe had to do is smile, with his perfect lips and the easy way his eyes fell on me, and the spot between my legs started to ache. And right now, he was more excited than I’d ever seen him, holding my hand, smiling that big, contagious smile of his. He showed that smile to a lot of people—the difference with me, right now, was that I was certain it was real. So seeing him this happy, and smiley, I was half-tempted to stop the elevator, hit the button for our floor, and drag him back upstairs and back to bed. He was turning me on, and he didn’t even have a clue.

  “Look, a gift shop!” His eyes lit up like he was a kid who’d just spotted Santa as we stepped off the elevator.

  He dragged me inside.

  “It’s a hundred degrees outside, you need something else to wear. Let me pick you something? Pretty, pretty please.”

  Well . . . the gift shop had plenty of T-shirts, that was for damn certain.

  He dropped to his knees.

  Dramatic much?

  I laughed. “Only if you let me pick something out for you too. Get up. You’re crazy.” I tugged at his arms so he’d get up off the floor.

  It became a game. Who could dress who in the most ridiculous tourist outfit? He chose me an ‘I heart New York’ T-shirt, hat, and flip-flops. He even found sunglasses shaped like apples. I chose him a shirt with the Statue of Liberty that said ‘Lady Liberty’ across the back in big bold letters. Surprisingly enough, the gift shop that had everything imaginable didn’t have any shorts. So I had to wear my work skirt with the rest of my new outfit. I didn’t care. I was excited. And I found it especially sweet when Joe offered to take the rest of my stuff back upstairs.

  I waited for him in the lobby.

  Once he returned, we set off to do the touristy stuff. First stop, visiting the top of Rockefeller Center. Talk about the longest line ever. It was ridiculous. Probably the busiest day of the year. Joe wrapped his arms around me from behind, holding me tight, not saying much as we paid and then joined the end of the line.

  “Do you mind if I answer some emails while we wait in this?”

  “Go ahead,” he said into my shoulder, kissing me lightly. “I’m not letting go, though.”

  I slipped my phone from my pocket, trying not to be distracted by his lips on my neck, while also dreading what I would find waiting for me when I opened my email. The last two days had been crazy, and I’d been neglecting work. I was almost thankful for this long line so I could at least try to skim a little off the top of my work load.

  As I opened my email, I found I had over two hundred unread emails waiting. “Holy crap,” I whispered, feeling my stomach swirl a little. My thumbs started to fly over the alphabet keys, answering what I could, as fast as I could while we creeped along, inch by inch, in this line.

  Joe was reading what I was writing. I knew because the smart-ass occasionally corrected my grammar. I didn’t mind what he saw or read. I trusted him so completely. The whole ‘spying on me’ thing—I didn’t even care anymore.

  “Oh God,” I realized, after we’d already been in line for over an hour, and we’re nearing the end of the line and the elevators now. “I haven’t called Abe. He doesn’t know I found you. He’s probably worried sick.”

  “I’m sure Kitty told him something when she returned his truck. Send him a text. Tell him you’re safe and with me. Tell him you’ll explain everything as soon as you can.”

  I did just that—and I would have done more, but we had to move as it was finally our turn to board the elevators. Not to mention, I’d killed most of my battery answering so many emails.

  The elevator was full as we rode up all seventy floors. I didn’t know what to expect. “Have you ever done this before?” I asked Joe.

  “No. Never.”

  “Seriously? How long did you live in New York?”

  “Through middle and high school.”

  “Do your parents still live here?”

  “They do.”

  He said no more. But his arms around me pulled me against his chest a little tighter. I wondered why—and what had happened that lead him to stop talking to his parents? Another Joe Coffee mystery. He sure had plenty of those.

  “Here we go,” the young man operating the elevator said. He had been rattling off facts about the building and about New York City, our own two-minute tour guide, none of which I’d paid attention to. The only thing important was me and Joe and our small back corner in this crowded elevator.

  At the top, the people filed off the elevator. I was met with the wind, and the sun, and the most stunning view. New York, the towering buildings stretched out, the water in the distance, the hazy summer air, and then there was the Empire State Building, in the mist of the concrete jungle, standing tallest of them all.

  Joe breathed in deeply.

  I glanced at him as he took in the view. I mean, the view was stunning and all, but I was more distracted by him. I could tell that he missed this place. He missed his city. I could see it on his face.

  “Will you ever move back?” I whispered the words, not sure if he’d even heard me. Because my life was in Portland, always would be, and if he ever moved back here that would most likely mean this thing between us would have to end. Funny how something so new could already mean so much to me, could already be so terrifying to lose, could already give my chest a taste of the heartbreak that losing him would induce. But it did.

  “No. Portland’s my home now.”

  I nodded.

  “Alright, kid.” He smiled down at me, winking. “Next stop.”

  “What? We just got here.”

  “And we have about a million other things to see. Let’s take a picture.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, snapping one of us before I was even ready.

  “Hell no, Joe, slow down.”

  I made him take no less than five more before I was satisfied. Then we left, on to the next stop on his speed tour of the city.

  CHAPTER 28

  JOE

  The plane ride home was much easier than the plane ride to New York. After taking Lana to as many touristy spots that I could think of, late into the night last night, we’d both collapsed onto the cushy bed in our hotel room at the Maddox Hotel.

  I got to hold her as much as I’d liked all night long. It was something I’d never really done before with a woman. Sure, I’d spent the night in random beds with random women countless of times before, too fucked up to even realize where I was or who I was screwing, but never sober and never with someone I truly cared about.

  The difference was pretty incredible.

  The best part, late in the night, we’d both woken up. Not sure why, especially after our exhausting day, but it happened.

  It was pitch black and neither of us said anything. She kept tossing and turning, wiggling against me, like she couldn’t get close enough, and I knew exactly what my girl needed. Slipping her panties to the side, I entered her from behind. I held onto her tight, making love to her at this slow and lazy speed.

  There was no rush.

  It was just her and me in the darkness.

  My perception of time was shot to hell. For all I knew, this slow sex thing I’d never done before only lasted minutes or maybe it was hours. But I brought her to an orgasm, soon finding my own, and we fell back to sleep in that perfect, hazy, half-awake state of mind.

  I was on some kind of high and was still floating today. Still trying to calm my heart and my overwhelming emotions. If I knew falling in love felt this good, I think I would have had the strength to put the liquor back on the shelf long before it got the better of me. I had this fear, though, that as soon as we got to Portland everything might shatter.

  Doug had given Kitty back the tapes, and at first, I’d been elated. Now, I was worried. It couldn’t be that easy. It just couldn’t be. The man had tormented me for two years holding those films over me. He wouldn’t just give up his power in one sing
le moment. He had to be planning something else.

  And then there was Lana. I told her I loved her. The moment—not the best, I’ll admit that. I said it on the brink of coming inside her, when I’d lost control over everything coming out of my mouth. But I’d meant my words. I’d never said them to a woman before. And she hadn’t said them back. But I knew, with certainty, she loved me. I felt in my gut. In the way her eyes seemed to devour me whole each time she looked at me. In the way she’d let me hold her all night long last night. In the way she cried out my name each time she let me inside her.

  I wasn’t exactly sure why she hadn’t told me the words I wanted to hear in response. But I’d get her to say them, and soon. Because I was confident in everything now. I didn’t want to let a sliver of doubt in between us, to start fucking with my mind, over something so simple as her hesitation to say the words back.

  The plane touched down, and too soon we were parting ways to our separate cars. She needed to change and get to work, and I needed to check on Kitty. And then she wanted me to come into the office today too.

  I guess I had a legitimate job now. It hadn’t felt that way before this moment. “Do we really have to go to work today?” I argued, slipping my hands under her shirt in the parking lot beside her car. “You could come over to my house instead. Spend the day in my bed. No Nancy grating on your nerves.”

  I kissed her neck, flicking my tongue across her warm skin.

  “Joe,” she moaned.

  “I have not gotten the proper opportunity to taste you.”

  She breathed out deeply. “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean.” I tugged on the edge of her skirt. In her office, that one time, I’d almost gotten a chance to taste her but not quite. I wanted more, so much more. Desperately. Now.

  She buried her face against my chest, mumbling my name once more and a few curse words.

  “Okay,” I said, pretty satisfied with myself that she was at least feeling half as tortured as I was. I removed my fingers from her clothes. “I’ll back off.” I bit down on my lip staring at her, wondering how I got so damn lucky. “But can I see you after work? I know I’ll see you at work, but that barely counts. Not when I have to play by the rules.”