Becca said, for her, being a tattoo artist was like being a hairdresser; people tell you every last detail of their lives and they leave absolutely nothing out. They assume, if you have tattoos or piercings, you’re more open minded, and while this may be true to some extent… dude, that does not mean I want to know about your dick, your rash on your dick, or how your girlfriend feels about your dick… Jesus. The regrettable tattoos of love gone wrong always came with a story and nothing was left out.
My boot hit the bottom step of my place, and how I missed it before then, I had no idea. Lark had lined the steps with little red glass votives. I had to say, my girl had style.
The door opened for me, and there she was, dressed in a red, long satin robe with feathers at the cuffs and all around the bottom. Not only was I speechless, I wanted to laugh my fuckin’ head off.
“Took you long enough!” She giggled and welcomed me into my own place.
“Babe.” I joined her laughter and threw my backpack and keys on the floor and pulled her into me, my hands wrapped around her waist.
“I usually hate Valentine’s Day, but I’ve never had someone I thought would appreciate it before.”
“So far…” I looked around my home, fire burning in the fireplace, little tea-lights flickering, the coffee table set up like a buffet with little bowls of food, “I’m liking the holiday a whole lot more than I used to.”
“Come on.” She led me to my chair and pushed me back to sit down, pulled off my boots, and carried them to sit by the front door. She continued with my jacket, made sure the door was locked, and double checked the blinds.
She came back and sat down on the floor. Her over the top robe was a total fire hazard, but she seemed to have complete control over it, making everything she did look effortless and graceful.
The music began, a mix of every good Beatles song ever made. I only prayed “Octopus’s Garden” wasn’t on it. I hated that fuckin’ song.
“Babe?” I asked as she handed me a plate of what looked to be Thai food.
“Yeah? Is Thai okay? I got it because you suggested it a couple of times, but we haven’t had a chance to go there yet. I can make you a sandwich or something. It’s not like I slaved over a hot stove or anything.” She laughed. “Really, it’s no trouble. I bought you ham…” she said, starting to get up, “… and there’s cheese—”
“Babe,” I cut her off.
“Yeah,” she answered.
“Did you do this shit for him?” I looked over the coffee table, everything nicely displayed there. How thoughtful she had been to take off my boots of all things. I let my elbows rest on my knees as I leaned forward and waited for her response.
“Yeah,” she said in that small voice I fuckin’ hated because it meant she remembered something about him.
“He was out of his fucking mind to let you go.”
She stood up, only the coffee table between us, her chest rising and falling with her quickened pulse.
“Come here, babe.”
One feathered, peep-toe shoe stepped carefully between plates, the other landed next to my right thigh. I held her hands and pulled her down to straddle me.
“Are you crying?” I asked. I could see her beautiful eyes just about to spill over.
“No.” She smiled.
“Yeah, you are.” I smiled back.
“Only because you’re such a good guy.” A big tear rolled down her cheek and I lifted up to kiss it. “Nico…” she tried to talk, but her little sob wouldn’t let her.
“Don’t be sad. I just want to tell you, this is really nice, coming home to this, to you. I don’t really want to know what the alternative would be. Not now, babe.” I stopped and took a deep breath. “Not ever.”
“Do you mean that?” she asked, sitting back, searching my face for a lie.
“There’s shit you want to know about me, ask me. I want you here when I come home. I want to know you’re gonna be curled up next to me in the morning. And—”
“Shh,” she said, covering my lips with her finger. Then raking her hands through my short hair she said, “Show me. Make love to me, Nico.”
I moved her legs around my waist and stood up. I had one hand under her ass, and the other I used to hold her head against my neck, my shirt soaking up her tears. I walked into the bedroom and pulled back the covers, laying her down. She was so beautiful. When I saw her in that red get-up, I hoped she was finally giving me the green light to have sex with her. She knew, I’d made it clear, I didn’t want to just fuck her. I mean, I did, but it was different with her. We took things slow just like she had asked. I learned more about Lark in the last month than I knew about the hundreds of women I’d fucked over the last ten years combined. She made every other experience I’d had with a woman seem empty, and I hadn’t even had sex with her yet.
“Go slow. It’s been awhile,” she said.
“I will,” I said, joining her on the bed. The last thing I wanted was for her to regret it. No matter what she had planned before this moment, I needed to be sure. “Lark?”
She knew what I was going to ask. “I’m sure. I promise, I am.”
“I can’t do this if you’re gonna walk away, babe. As much as I want to—”
“I’m sure,” she whispered. Face to face, I brushed her hair away. She had lit candles in the bedroom, as well, but these were large in giant red vases. They cast this leafy pattern on the wall next to the bed, but more importantly, they let me see her eyes looking back at me. I closed mine and pressed my forehead to hers. I knew what was happening, and it scared the fuck out of me. This was the thing that would break me—not the birds, not Mom having cancer—having my heart ripped to shreds by the woman I was about to give the one thing I had never given another woman, even Gina. If anyone was hesitating in that moment, it was me.
“Nico?” Her hand on my cheek made me open my eyes.
“Yeah?”
“You found her,” she said and moved her hand to my chest, just like she did every night as we fell asleep.
“Sorry?” I said, confused.
“You helped me find her.”
“Babe…” I opened my mouth and pressed my lips to hers, meeting her tongue with mine in the beauty that was Lark and her kiss. I moved my hand down her neck, across her breast, just as I’d fantasized about doing what felt like a million times before, until I reached her hip. The long robe hid a sheer gown, and one tug of a tie gave me access to her beautiful body encased in red silky fabric. I moved down to her ankle and found the hem, pulling my fingertips over her soft skin until I reached her bare hip. My thumb brushed across the valley between her hip and her sex on my way to the one place I’d been dreaming about.
I had to be inside her. My mouth bit and sucked her nipples through the lacey top until I decided I couldn’t have anything between us. She sat up and pulled the robe off, followed by the gown, baring those perfect full breasts and that tiny patch of hair between her legs. I undressed quickly and moved down to get my first taste of Lark.
Later, I would explain all the dirty things I planned on doing to her, but this? This was… in-fucking-credible. My hands moved to cup her ass and pull her to my face. I listened as she gasped and drew in a sharp breath while I moved a finger inside her. My tongue explored every fold, and as I sucked on her clit, I could feel how close she was. As much I wanted her to come, I wanted her to come with me… another first.
I moved up her stomach, leaving kisses on my way to her face. When I got there I asked, “Is it okay if I kiss you?”
“Nico, you can do anything you want,” she said.
I slowly licked my lips and grinned.
“What’s the grin for?” she asked as I moved my knees between her legs.
I leaned down and gave her another slow, deep kiss and pulled back. “I’m happy,” I said, holding myself at her entrance.
“Really?”
“God, yes,” I said, easing into her.
“Ahh!” We both gasped in pleasure as
I moved deeper, slowly, until she began to rock her hips into mine and match my rhythm.
“You feel incredible,” she said then told me something I already knew. “I’m on the pill.”
“I see you take it every night, babe.” I smiled down at her. “And you know I’m clean, and Lark? You have no idea how good you feel.”
Her hands gripped my hips as I glided out almost to the tip and slowly sunk back into her. Every thrust, every touch, the connection I felt with her was unlike anything I had ever felt.
I moved my hand between us and put my thumb where we were joined, pulling it up to her clit in a light circle, and felt her clench around me.
“No, I don’t need that. It’ll go too fast. I’ve been holding back. You can make me come with just you, Nico.”
“Seriously?” I stopped moving and looked at her.
“Oh yeah,” she replied with a grin.
“Gonna make you come now,” I told her, thrusting faster and harder.
“Oh… my… God!” she cried through her build.
“Fuck!” I yelled out. I never yelled when I came, but knowing just my dick made her come, watching her body buck under mine and seeing the woman I was going to spend the rest of my life with in my bed with my dick pounding into her… I lost control.
I started to pull out, but she stopped me. “Please, don’t go yet. I like the feeling of you inside me.”
I started to move again, slowly as I leaned down to kiss her.
I took her bottom lip between my teeth as I pulled away. “Now, I’m gonna fuck you… if you’re up for it,” I asked and was met with her smiling eyes.
“Thought you’d never ask… and then we’ll eat and come back to bed?”
“Works for me.” I gave her a huge fuckin’ grin as she moved herself off of my dick.
“Babe?”
“Relax, Nico. I’m driving this time.” And with a wink, she sat on top of me and slid down, taking me deep.
“Fuckkkkk,” I said on a groan.
“God, you feel so good.” Her small hand was at my throat and grabbed my necklace for leverage when she stopped suddenly. “I’m fucking naked shark attack guy,” she teased.
“For the last time, fucker took my shorts!” I shouted to her laughing.
She started moving again, but it wasn’t long before she picked up her speed and was slamming down against me, my balls touching her ass on each descent. I held her hips, helping her move and as my own orgasm built. I slammed up into her, watching her hands grab her breasts and pinch her nipples—fucking hot—then throw her head back and scream out my motherfuckin’ name, which brought a big-ass smile to my face.
“What?” she asked like nothing happened.
“Babe.” I reached up and pulled her down against my chest. So fucking happy, I thought my heart was gonna my rip right out of me.
***
We showered together, happy to make-out and basically clean our bodies, and now sat with reheated Thai food and what she told me was a country mix she made.
I watched her use chopsticks likes a pro when she put down her plate and moved next to me. She kissed me on the lips and pulled away. “Nico?”
“You have my full attention.” I grinned as I stabbed the food and gave up, moving my plate from between us to the coffee table.
“Nico,” she said and looked me straight in the eyes.
I felt that tinge in the pit of my stomach, wondering if the ease of everything with her was about to come to a screeching halt.
“Please be careful with me.”
“What do you mean?” Looking cute all wrapped up in my huge grey sweatshirt and panties, I pulled her closer.
“I mean, I think I’m falling in love with you and—”
I stopped her by holding her face as I kissed her deep. Fuck. It was happening. I must have been the luckiest fucking bastard in the world at that moment.
“I promise you, Lark, I will never, ever hurt you. Been waiting so fucking long for this, for you, you have no idea,” I said as I moved my thumbs across her cheeks.
“Are you sure?”
“I met a girl, when I was younger… Dish… I’ll tell you all about her… it’s important… I’ve been looking for someone that gave me the same feeling I got when I was with her.”
“How long were you together?” She asked.
“No, it wasn’t like that. We were just kids, but it’s important. I have to tell you about her because she’s the reason I do what I do. It’s sad though, so maybe not tonight. But I gotta warn you, babe, I can’t stop what I do for these women.”
“I know, and it’s okay, I understand. You don’t have to tell me anything else, Nico.” She touched her hand to my chest and brought that calm, just like I always wished I had.
“I’ve been trying to find a balance, because the shit they tell me… the tattoos I give them, it’s like their therapy. And it’s slowed down since I was attacked a few years ago.”
“I had no idea…” she started to say, then seemed to remember something. “Ramona and Hank came to see you.”
I had a flash of them leaving the hospital room. “Yeah. I think they did.”
“I wish I’d met you before,” she said sadly.
“No, you don’t. Honestly, Lark… up until a few years ago, I was a real fuckin’ asshole.” I wish I could have come to her a better person, someone worthy of what I was learning was a beautiful woman, inside and out. But I’d have to just keep trying to deserve her.
“Nico, you’re forty—”
“Almost forty,” I cut her off.
“Right.” She smiled. “I’m thirty-eight… between us, I’m sure there’s a lot of history, a lot of things we wish we could take back or do over or just erase completely, but I’m taking you as you are, because… I know you. I don’t know how, but I know you, and when I asked you to be careful with me, it’s because I had one person that knew exactly what I needed, when I needed it, and you remind me of him. So, I don’t really care who you were. I know who you are now, and that’s the man I want to be with. That’s the man I—”
“Babe?” I interrupted her, wanting to say every single thought that was coming into my head at once.
“Yeah.” She stopped and took a breath.
“I’ve never said it before.”
“Nico, I don’t want you to—”
I took her hand and pressed it open palmed against my chest like she always did, “But right here. You feel that? Every time you say something like that, I feel like my heart is going to rip right out of my chest. What do you call that?” I asked her.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Nicolas. I think cupid got you, too,” she said and kissed me like her life depended on it.
Chapter 12
March
Something wasn’t right.
Lark was not herself. She was avoiding eye contact with me. Every time I entered a room, she would leave it. I thought we were doing a pretty good job at communicating. She let me know that under no circumstances could I ever, ever try to cook liver for her again. It was supposed to be good for your blood, full of iron. My pop loved it, and I had grown up with liver, breaded and fried with bacon, onions and green bell peppers. When Zack closed, I cooked dinner. Most other nights, Lark cooked or we went out for a late meal together.
That particular night, I had decided to make her what I called a “family favorite.” I chose rice and sautéed spinach as my side dishes. I set the table while she finished stitching the tiniest white beads onto a headband. It would later become a veil, she explained.
“One more stitch and I’ll be right there. It smells delicious!” She carefully laid her unfinished creation inside a long black box—she said it made it easier to see if any beads or sequins came off—and made her way to the table. “Whatever genius in the history of mankind decided to cure pork and fry it into the heavenly food item that is bacon…” she lifted her wine glass and said, “I salute you!”
We had a laugh, I sat down across from her
and smiled. I was so proud to be able to share that with her, but also to just be with her. It was comfortable, it was natural, and it was not what I had assumed a relationship would be. The shit I dreaded about other women, I invited from Lark. If she wanted to get a pedicure, I walked downtown with her, bought a cup of coffee, and waited outside. She even came to the front door with these little foam things separating her toes and asked, “I can’t decide. Which color should I get? Electric Firefly Green or Razzle Dazzle Red?”
I chose red. Always red.
I watched as she cut into her fried liver steak, closed her eyes, and smiled as she chewed… for about four seconds. Then her face changed, her jaw rigid as she asked, “What the hell is this?”
“It’s liver,” I said proudly.
I watched as she pushed the chair back and ran to the kitchen sink. She spat the offending meat out, gagged for a while, then she opened the fridge. She grabbed the carton of milk, took a huge swig, gargled, then spit that into the sink. She repeated this process a few times then asked, “How could you do that to me? I thought you liked me!”
I had started laughing when she was gagging and hadn’t stopped. Now, my stomach muscles hurt, I was laughing so hard.
“Totally not funny. I’m gonna get you back for this. I’ll make you eat goat balls or brain or something else weird and gross!” She took out two slices of bread and a jar of peanut butter from the cupboard.
“Oh, come on, babe. You can still eat the rice and the spinach.” I wiped my eyes.
“No, I really can’t, Nico. Blech!” she said as she slapped giant globs of grape jam and peanut butter on the bread.
So, that night, I learned that Lark would not be eating those “exotic” foods as she deemed them, with me. In fact, they were not to be cooked in the kitchen when she was there. I thought she was overreacting… just a little bit. But I let it go.
I would like to say that Lark was perfect in every way possible. But there was one thing, and only one thing, she did that I really, really hated. Lark’s hair was very long. Beautiful, long blonde hair to the middle of her back. I loved that fuckin’ hair. I loved to smell it, touch it, and watch it move as she walked… among other things. And I thought it was also very considerate that she always cleaned the drain in the tub after she washed her long tresses. What I hated, though, was that she left that disgusting clump on the side of the tub.
Nico (The Leaves) Page 12