Table 10: Part 1

by Jiffy Kate

  Home.

  With Nathan.

  Nathan’s home.

  Overnight.

  None of that computes. Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen or the stress I’m under, but I just stare at him, unable to reply.

  “You don’t have keys to your apartment. It’s late. I’m not leaving you. So, you’re coming home with me. I’ll take you to work tomorrow morning and then take care of the key situation.”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head, but everything else is saying yes—my body, my heart… the butterflies in my stomach. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

  “Why?” he asks, challenging me.

  “Uh,” I start, stuttering and struggling for a good answer. “I don’t have clean clothes. Or toiletries. You hardly know me, so that’s like asking a stranger to stay the night at your house.” The more my argument builds, the stronger my voice gets, and I try to turn the tables on him. “What’s wrong with you, Nathan? You can’t ask some stranger into your house. What if I’m a serial killer or a thief?”

  A smile creeps up on his gorgeous lips, and he lets out a bark of a laugh. “You’ve got a lot of tenacity, Kadance Davis. I really like that about you.”

  His voice drips like honey, and I hate him for making me stupid with only a few words.

  As we drive down the street, headed back toward the taller buildings, I want to say something, but nothing comes to mind. He’s rendered me speechless. I’m equal parts nervous and… exhilarated? I don’t know. I’ve never felt this way before.

  Watching Nathan stand up for me and take charge of the situation did things to me. Demanding me to get in his car should’ve thrown up red flags, made me run in the other direction, but instead, it turned me on even more than arguing with him did.

  Nathan hasn’t said another word. I keep stealing glances, but the way his jaw is clenched and his eyebrows are drawn together, I’m assuming he needs a minute. So, I sit back and try to relax.

  Try being the key word, but it’s not working.

  We drive past the street the diner is on and into an area I’ve never been to. The bus I take occasionally doesn’t even come by here. It’s mostly high-end shops and walk-up apartments. Nathan’s car slows, and he turns into a lot, punching a passcode into a keypad, and the gate in front of us opens.

  When he pulls into a spot and turns the car off, we both sit there for a moment. I’m waiting for a cue from him because I’m totally out of my element. After a minute, he gets out of the car, and I stay put, still not sure if I’m doing what I think I’m doing.

  The door opens, and Nathan stands there, offering me his hand.

  I war with myself but then surrender, partly because I have no other option, but ultimately because I want to.

  Nathan keeps hold of my hand, and I follow him up to the building and inside to an industrial-looking area. The man sitting behind the desk greets Nathan as we walk to an oversized elevator, with big black, industrial-looking doors. He swipes a card and pushes a button, the doors closing slowly as the man at the desk watches us. The fact that Nathan’s still holding my hand does not go unnoticed. In fact, it’s doing weird things to me. The horde of butterflies that are always present when I’m with him are back and accompanying them is a burning sensation that goes straight between my legs, like an electrical current.

  I’ve been turned on before.

  I’m not stupid.

  Or a virgin.

  It’s just been a while.

  And there’s the lingering question of whether Nathan even wants me that way. But I think he does. He did kiss me, better than I’ve ever been kissed in my life. And he looks at me with hunger in his eyes. I don’t know why. Why me? But part of me doesn’t care.

  And then there’s also the fact he’s bringing me here out of necessity. He’s not the kind of guy who’d leave someone out on the street to fend for themselves.

  I love that about him.

  I love that he’s kind and that he’d go out of his way to help someone like me.

  I love that he’s protective, even though I don’t know why.

  I love the way he makes me feel.

  When did this become about loving anything?

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  “Kadi,” Nathan says, breaking through my thoughts.

  I jerk my head up to look at him, like a kid who just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar, and immediately feel a blush creep up on my cheeks.

  “What?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound as nervous and flustered as I feel.

  “Where’d you go?”

  “Sorry. It’s just been a crazy day.”

  He nods and steps out of the elevator and straight into a huge space. There’s no hallway or anything, just a big, open room with high ceilings and brick walls. A kitchen area is on the left with lots of stainless steel everything, including the countertops. And there’s a living area in the middle with two large leather couches and a television that takes up an entire wall. The bed in the far-right corner is massive, like three times the size of mine.

  “Bathroom is over there,” he says, pointing to the corner of the space I hadn’t made it to yet. “There’re towels and whatever else you might need.”

  I nod and just keep staring.

  “I can make us something for dinner, or I have stuff for sandwiches,” he continues, walking toward the kitchen and hanging his suit coat on the back of a chair.

  When he turns around and sees me still standing there, he takes a couple of steps toward me and then stops. “Don’t be nervous.”

  “I’m not,” I lie.

  “I can get you something to change into. Make yourself at home,” he says as he unbuttons one cuff of his shirt, rolling the sleeve to his elbow. The action causes my mouth to go dry, and I swallow hard.

  I do need to go to the bathroom, and a shower actually sounds really good. I could use a minute to myself. Walking toward the bathroom, I turn to see him watching me. “I’m going to shower,” I say quickly, shutting the door behind me.

  Leaning against the hard surface, I close my eyes and try to reconcile the events of the day… mugged, losing my keys, Nathan demanding I call, the drive, the super, Nathan being my knight in shining armor. I didn’t even know I liked that kind of stuff. But I do. I so do. It may sound weak, but I like someone taking care of me. I’ve done everything on my own for so long. It’s kind of nice to have someone on my side, besides LuAnne and Mack. A tear slips down my cheek, and I wipe it away. I refuse to be a crying, girly mess. This day could’ve turned out so much shittier. I could be sleeping on a cold floor somewhere.

  This isn’t horrible.

  This is kind of the opposite.

  As I look around the bathroom, my mouth drops open at the enormous walk-in shower. There’s glass and tile and two shower heads, and I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.

  After I shed my clothes, I turn the water on and let it warm up. Steam begins filling the bathroom and immediately begins to melt away the stress of the day. I step into the overabundance of water, nothing like the small trickle I get in my shoebox of a bathroom, and let out a content sigh. I could live here. Maybe Nathan will let me rent his bathroom.

  As I’m showering, Nathan taps on the door, letting me know he set some clothes out there for me.

  Did I mention thoughtful?

  Kind, chivalrous, protective, considerate, gorgeous … and so out of my league.

  After I dry off, I wrap the towel around me tightly and crack the door open, just enough to pick up the clothes Nathan left by the door and then shut it back quickly. Taking a deep breath, I wipe the fog from the mirror and stare at myself for a second. I’m still not sure why I’m here or what I’m doing, but I decide as I look at my reflection in the mirror, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

  Unfolding the stack of clothes, I see he’s left me some sweats that are about three sizes too big and a soft grey t-shirt. Holding them to my nose, I inhale deeply. So good. So Nathan. I quickly put them on, rollin
g the waist of the sweat pants down a few times to keep them from falling off.

  Without any of my toiletries, I borrow the brush from the cabinet and tame my long brown hair so it doesn’t look like a rat’s nest by morning. Before I leave the bathroom, I swish some mouthwash. Just in case. I don’t know what to expect, but on the slim chance Nathan wants to kiss me again, I want to be ready.

  With my hand on the doorknob, I take a deep breath, centering myself, but also taking in the scent that’s all around me. It’s Nathan. And I’m not going to lie. I like smelling like him.

  When I walk out of the bathroom, a different scent hits my nose and my mouth starts to water on cue. The aroma of bacon permeates the large open space and practically knocks me over. I cover my stomach with my hand as I approach the kitchen, trying to block out the loud growl of hunger that decides to rear its head at that very moment.

  Is he trying to seduce me?

  Because it’s working.

  Nathan turns from the stove and smiles over his shoulder when he notices me standing at the counter. “I thought some BLTs would be good, but if you don’t like—”

  “Perfect.” And I’m not just referring to the bacon.

  Chapter 7

  “You have to be tired,” he says, watching me from across the table.

  “A little,” I say, eating the last bite of bacon that fell from my sandwich. Normally, I’d be passed out by now. It’s almost eleven and I have to be awake and dressed for my morning shift by four tomorrow morning. But my body is revolting against its normal routine. Sitting so close to Nathan, being in his apartment, it’s making me feel all sorts of things—anxious, yet comfortable; uncertain, yet safe. Going to sleep is the last thing on my mind. “Too bad we don’t have any pie for dessert.”

  Nathan’s brow arches, and I stop picking at my plate and stare at him.

  “Why do you always have pie for breakfast?” I ask, because I’ve always wondered that and have never had the chance to ask. Besides, I want to know more about him. I want to know everything about him.

  He shrugs, and for a second I think he’s going to avoid the question, or maybe he doesn’t have a reason.

  “I grew up in foster care. I never got to choose what I wanted for breakfast or any meal for that matter, and we never had dessert.” His tone is even and honest. I’ve caught glimpses of his vulnerability, but nothing like this.

  “How did you go from foster care to this?” I ask, feeling completely impressed and mesmerized by the man in front of me.

  “My parents adopted me when I was fourteen. If it weren’t for them, I’d probably be dead or in prison.”

  I want to argue that what he’s saying isn’t true, but I’ve seen it happen to people, people I know.

  “What about you?” he asks. “Where are your parents? Where are you from?”

  What about me? That’s a good question … or a boring one. “There’s not much to tell, really. Small town girl who couldn’t wait to get out. My dad worked at an auto repair place my whole life, barely making ends meet. Still does. My mom is on husband number eight. I haven’t seen her in ten years.”

  “So, you moved to the city by yourself?”

  “Yep. The week after I graduated from high school, I packed up two suitcases and a box of books and hitched a ride with my cousin who was on his way to California.” I laugh dryly, shaking my head. “I had a thousand dollars to my name and felt like the world was my oyster.”

  “Then what?” he asks, giving me a small smile.

  “I got a job at the diner the second day I was here. A lady had just quit, and Mack was desperate, took a chance on an unknown. I tried to go to college but ended up blowing through the little bit of money I had saved up and was forced to quit.”

  He nods. “Sometimes, all we need in life is for someone to believe in us.”

  “You sound like one of those inspirational posters.”

  He laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.

  When he looks back up at me, his face goes serious.

  I start to fidget, feeling the weight of his stare. So instead of sitting there, feeling awkward, I pick up my empty plate and then his, making myself useful.

  “Don’t,” Nathan says, stopping me with his hand on my arm.

  “What?”

  “You don’t have to clean up. I’ll do it.”

  “I want to. You cooked. I’ll clean.”

  He stands and takes the plates from me, setting them on the counter, his body so close to mine.

  “You take the bed,” he says, his voice low.

  “No.” I shake my head. “I can’t do that. You’ve already given me a place to stay. I’ll take the couch. Besides,” I tell him, looking over at the over-sized cushions, “it’s probably more comfortable than any bed I’ve ever slept on.” I laugh lightly and then catch his gaze, his jaw set in a tight line again.

  Something happens when he looks back at me. He takes a step closer, towering over me. The tension is palpable, and the air feels thick. I can’t keep my eyes off his lips, wanting so badly for him to kiss me again, wondering if that was a one-time deal or something he regrets.

  Slowly, he traces down my arm, and then his hand is on my waist, pulling me to him. My breath hitches in my throat, and my nerves kick into full force because I want this so bad.

  “Please tell me you can feel how much I want you. Please tell me you want me too,” he says in a husky tone, his mouth so close to my ear I can feel his hot breath, and it sends chills up my spine and a flood of heat through my body.

  “I want you. I want to be inside you.” His boldness makes my knees go weak, and I grip his biceps to keep from melting into a heap on the floor.

  “Have me,” I tell him, summoning all the bravery I can to match his.

  “If we do this, it’s exclusive,” he says, like it’s a warning, but it feels anything but. It feels more like a promise.

  “Okay.” I nod, ready to agree to anything to be with him.

  “If you’re mine, you’re mine,” he growls, and my stomach nearly leaps out of my body.

  “Okay,” I whisper again. “I—that’s … what I want.” I’ve never belonged to anyone, but if I were going to belong to someone, anyone … I’d want it to be him.

  Without another word, he pulls me even closer, and I’m in total submission, molding to his touch and allowing him to have me any way he wishes.

  One hand is in my hair and the other is on my backside, gripping tightly as he walks me backward out of the kitchen. The next thing I know, I’m being lifted off my feet and carried.

  “Please tell me you’re not a virgin,” Nathan says, breathing heavily. “As much as I would love to be the only person who’s been inside you, I don’t think I’ll be able to go slow.”

  “I’m not,” I say between desperate breaths.

  With the pause in action, I begin to second-guess what I’ve agreed to. We’ve only kissed once, haven’t even been on a date or anything, and now I’m being carried to his bed.

  “But I don’t do this … have sex with someone I’m not dating. I haven’t had sex in a long time.” My voice sounds panicked and my heart races, but I grip onto him tighter.

  He growls, and again it goes straight to my core. The need I feel for him grows, and the need he feels for me is evident between my legs. I can feel his hard length pressing against his thin slacks.

  Without permission, my body takes on a mind of its own and rubs against his, and he hisses between his teeth. “Fuck,” he groans. “You.” His eyes bore into mine. “Just when I think you couldn’t be more perfect, you say things like that and completely turn me inside out. I want you so damn bad, but if you want to do slow, we can do slow.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “No. I want this.” My words are true and firm. I mean it. “I didn’t realize how badly I wanted it until now. Not just want, need … I need you. Please.”

  In one swift move, Nathan tosses me onto the bed a
nd pulls his shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor. Next are his slacks. No hesitation as he pops the button and unzips them, letting them fall to his feet. Unashamedly, he sheds his boxers and stands there in all his glory.

  Holy. Shit.

  “Off,” he says, pointing to his shirt and sweatpants I’m wearing like they’re offending him. “As much as I love seeing you in my clothes, I want to see you.”

  I do as I’m told, quickly pulling the shirt over my head and shimmying out of the pants. They’re so loose it’s easy work, and since I didn’t put any panties on after my shower, I’m completely naked … bare, exposed, vulnerable … and somehow it’s okay.

  “So perfect,” he mutters before climbing over me, his arms caging me in. Normally, an action like this would make me feel trapped, but instead, safe and wanted. Desired.

  “Just to be clear,” he says, his voice smooth and low. “I plan on fucking you.”

  My eyes grow wide at his candor, and the wetness between my thighs multiplies. I don’t reply, because I don’t know how to. No one has ever talked to me like this.

  “Spread your legs for me, Kadi. Let me make you feel good.”

  My knees fall to the sides as he leans back and kneels between them. I watch as he sticks two fingers in his mouth and then runs them down my slit, circling my entrance. After a few more passes without penetration, I’m practically begging for it. My hips arch off the bed, and I grip the soft blanket beneath me in both hands. Closing my eyes, I let myself just feel.

  When he finally slips two fingers inside and something hot touches my clit, I practically jump off the bed. I open my eyes to see Nathan’s gorgeous head between my legs, and I nearly come right then. It only takes a few more minutes before his talented tongue and fingers coax an orgasm out of me… and then another.

  “That’s perfect,” Nathan’s voice soothes from down below. “So fucking perfect.”

  I can’t stand it any longer. I need him. I need to feel his weight, and I want him inside of me. I want to know what it’s like. I want to be his.

  “Please … I—I need you … To feel you,” I plead.

  Crawling up the bed, he settles himself against the headboard. “Come here.” He crooks a finger in my direction, inviting me over.