When You Come to Me

Home > Romance > When You Come to Me > Page 48
When You Come to Me Page 48

by Jade Alyse


  He was finally alone with Natalie again, in an empty lobby, while the music blared from their event room.

  He reached for her hand.

  “Are you okay?” she asked him.

  He nodded. He was more than okay when she was around.

  If she only knew…

  “And we’ll talk about this later?”

  He nodded again. He most certainly didn’t want to ruin that night, her night…

  Another hour had passed, and Brandon knelt before Natalie, who sat in a chair, his hands, climbing up the length of her right leg until he wrapped his fingers around the garter encircling her narrow thigh. Natalie giggled, genuinely embarrassed and ticklish, covering her mouth with her hands until he finished. He gave it a quick toss over his shoulder. Ha, Scotty caught it…

  They finally cut the cake together, and when it came time to feed it to each other, Natalie impulsively smashed the cake against the bridge of Brandon’s nose. And while the guests jeered and clapped, raising their champagne flutes in the air in their direction, Brandon stood there glaring at her with complete disbelief. Laughing, she proceeded to lick the icing off of his face, getting some of the butter cream goodness around her mouth.

  Asha caught the bouquet of roses that Natalie threw high over her head. Her bridesmaid then looked in Scotty’s direction, rolled her eyes and dropped the bouquet on the ground out of protest…

  Brandon and Natalie locked eyes and snickered to themselves, mentally acknowledging the fact that they would deal with the Scotty-Asha saga on another date…

  Then they said goodbye, standing in the lobby, in front of the elevators. He cordially shook his father’s hand, gave his brothers, Scotty included, lengthened embraces as they wished him well. He watched as Natalie hugged her sisters, Asha included, and Joanna, who all had tears running down their faces, then her Grandmother and her aunts and uncles, and then her mother. He watched her start to cry then, watched as her mother whispered something in her ear, Natalie nodding obediently. She then pulled away from her mother, held her hands lingeringly, swinging them left to right, before they both took deep breaths. Helen then reached out to wipe Natalie’s tears away before her daughter started to walk away from her…

  It wasn’t until they got onto an elevator that he suggested that she look at the expression he had engraved in her ring. Natalie slid the ring off of her left hand, brought it closer to her eyes and slowly read:

  Since Trent road…

  She couldn’t believe what she was about to do, couldn’t believe that it took her this long, couldn’t believe that her body felt this warm, this ready. She blamed the sensation on all the champagne that she consumed over the course of the reception, as if she knew what would transpire once they got back to the bed and breakfast, beneath moss-laden trees on Harper Creek Road. They’d kissed for a while, completely ignoring the bowl of fruit and plate of bread and cheese and bottles of wine that Scotty and Asha had sent to the room. They’d even left a note for the both of them on top of the bed, which read, “We love you both and we hope that you have an incredible honeymoon!” which she consequently smashed when Brandon laid her down on the comforter gently, peering into her eyes. Yes, his kisses had been so inviting, so warm, so attentive, that, in the moment she came up for air, she felt the tinge in her voice that almost begged him for it, she, a girl who’d waited almost twenty-four years of her life for this, he, who’d waited so patiently, who never rushed her, never forced her to do anything that she wasn’t prepared for.

  But he certainly heard it in her voice then.

  “Please,” she whispered into his face. “Keep going…”

  “Are you sure,” he asked her quietly, kissing the tip of her nose.

  Of course she was sure. She would push the tainted image of Brandon being with any other girl but her, and she would focus on the softness in his eyes. She ran a finger along his cheekbone, gently, slowly, coaxing him as she nodded her head. She took a deep breath as Brandon raised his body and pulled his white undershirt over his head. And he laid back down with her, laying his lips along her cheek, leaving soft, warm kisses. This was a good start, wasn’t it? She placed her hand on the back of his head, breathed slowly through her parted lips to stave off her beckoning trembling. Her limbs stiffened as his lips rolled to her neck, accompanied by a warm and hungry tongue, causing a strange sensation in a part of her body that she’d never felt before.

  Brandon lifted his head momentarily, grinning down at her. “You’ve got to relax, baby…you’re not going to enjoy it if you don’t relax…”

  So she took deeper breaths. She could do this, right? If Asha and Maya and Sid could do this, then so could she, right?

  She pressed her fingers into his back as he laid his hand along the inside of one of her thighs.

  “Relax, Natalie,” he told her, gently pushing her thigh outward.

  Their lips met for a moment, lingeringly, and she sucked in her breath, pinching his hair between her fingers.

  “I love you,” he said, calmly, as if he hoped that that would help.

  It did. It reminded her of how they got there, if reminded her that he deserved her, and her body.

  And her body started an awful shiver, the kind that made her bare breasts and her stomach and her thighs jiggle. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that she felt completely exposed, completely vulnerable, as Brandon’s pink lips explored every inch of her naked brown skin. She lay there with him in the darkness, running her fingers up and down his dampened back, pressing her fingers into the surface of his skin, biting her lip to a bloody pulp, silently anticipating the moment that this affair would take full flight. She became aware of every sensation around her, inside of her; the feeling of wetness and the warmth of his breath, and the feel of his hands probing her every inch, even those discreet places that she wasn’t even aware of. It seemed that nothing else mattered but his proximity, the feeling of how he moved near her, and touched her hear and touched her there…

  And then his face loomed over hers in shadow, peace surrounding them, replacing the utter chaos that ran inside of her. She extended her hand toward his face, pressing her finger into his cheek, encouraging him to keep going, letting him know that she was okay. Lord, she’d waited for this forever, could recall each time she dreamed about it, fantasized this moment, knowing that she wanted Brandon to have her, and do with her as he so pleased…

  She thrived under the disparity between his aggressiveness and bedroom knowledge, to her ignorance, to her rose-hued virtue, treating him as a teacher, with whom she desired a firm lesson…

  It wasn’t until his hips began to narrow in on her inner thighs that she permitted herself to explore his body with her hands. She enjoyed the way his muscles flexed and pulled against her as he moved over her, she loved his moistened skin, his warmth, the feel of his heart beating rapidly against his chest, the hardness she felt against her thigh.

  They kissed again, pressed their foreheads together, and he whispered, “Are you ready?”

  Of course she was! Could he not feel that she was ready? Could he not see it in her eyes? Perhaps she’d hidden it so well for so long that she wasn’t sure how to express her craving. She’d spent several hours the night before with her bridesmaids in the hotel room (after the surprise male stripper), drunkenly discussing sex, with each of her ladies trying to explain to her how it was supposed to feel. None of them could tell her. They told her that the sensation couldn’t be explained with words; it could only be felt.

  She had been preparing herself for this moment for weeks, perhaps starting with her trip to see her doctor in Decatur, explaining that she was getting married and wanted to start taking the Pill. She started swallowing a regular dosage a few days following the arrival of her first prescription.

  Everything seemed and felt right for this moment…

  She nodded slowly, focusing in on his eyes, wanting him to continue.

  “I’ll take this slow,” Brandon whispered against
her mouth.

  She hoped he would. He’d told her once before that every girl he’d been with had all been sexually active, and that she’d be the first virgin that he’d ever slept with. She wasn’t sure how comfortable that made her feel, but she trusted his experience almost as much as she trusted him.

  She closed her eyes tight, coached her mind to help relax her body and slow the rapid pace at which her heart beat, and take in the sensation with open arms. He was pushing against her, slowly, gingerly, the muscles in his buttocks, clenching between her, and she was sure that she scared him when she cried out suddenly in regards to the unexpected sting that she felt inside of her. He gazed down at her warily and whispered, “Are you alright?”

  She wasn’t sure at that moment. This feeling was completely different, completely new, and she was certain that she’d never felt so close to Brandon before…

  She nodded.

  “Are you sure? I can stop…”

  She nodded. Heck, they’d gotten this far, and his expedition to her inner workings was almost complete.

  “Tal, I don’t want to hurt you…”

  She knew that he didn’t. Why would he?

  Natalie caught her breath, licked her lips and whispered, “Bran, just keep going…”

  So, he did. He quietly worked his way inside, subtly flinching even if she made the slightest noise of discomfort. He didn’t move within her enough before she told him to stop, told him that it hurt too much…

  “Maybe we should sleep on it,” she suggested quietly in the darkness as he slowly worked his way out of her.

  Brandon rolled on his back, rested his arms behind his head and nodded. “Yea, you’re right,” he said. He then rolled his head over and looked at her. “How do you feel?”

  “I feel…different…”

  “Different, how?”

  “I don’t know, I can’t explain it…”

  “I’m sorry if it wasn’t what you thought it was going to be…”

  “Brandy, please don’t apologize,” she assured him. “It wasn’t expecting perfection…besides, we have a long time to perfect it…and when we do…”

  “I completely catch your drift…” He smiled. “I’m sorry if I hurt you…”

  Natalie then raised her bare body, straddled his waist beneath thin white sheets and a glowing moon, and kissed his lips softly.

  “Stop apologizing,” she whispered into him. “You did everything just right…”

  And she kissed him again.

  “And I have something to show you…”

  “What’s that?”

  She rolled off of him, onto her back, spread her legs, and directed his eyes toward the area. She pointed to the image of a white lily, perfectly inked on the inside of her left thigh.

  Brandon’s eyes widened at the discovery, ran his fingers over it, whispered, “It’s like opening Pandora’s Box,” and pressed his lips against it softly…

  Newlywed Nevis

  SHE MEASURED HER HAPPINESS as being the moment that she stepped off of the ferryboat in Nevis, a quiet island in the southern West Indies, in the late afternoon, the sun, warm, golden, setting in the blue sky. They stepped onto the shore of Pinney’s Beach, her brown sandals wedged in the brown sand, the sea darkening by the fading sunlight, the breeze a strong one. They were directed to their room promptly following, a villa, with a small pool in the back overlooking the green fairway, a marble-laden lanai with two wicker chairs, banana leaf fans, a king-sized bed, a full-sized kitchen, and a large master bath with a deep-seated tub, encircled by a crowning of palm trees undulating under the gentle wind.

  They ate dinner at Mango’s, the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, the sky, deep blue, the stars, fantastic, the humidity, lacking, a single white boat, swaying against an eased current, calypso played. Brandon, who’d chosen to keep his hair long for the wedding, had let it go wild that night, looked comfortable in a cream shirt, rolled at the sleeves, and linen pants, smelled deliciously good, and she, the newly de-virginized bride, patiently anticipating the moment that they could be alone again.

  She looked at him and she looked at the ring on her left hand. Her happiness lied there, with him, her husband; how funny that word sounded, how strange it was to look at him from across the wooden teak table, with white candles held in clear glass vases, and know what forever meant, finally, know then that she was old enough to understand it, that they were old enough to stand it.

  They watched the sky fall, shared a plate of conch fritters and mango salsa, sipped from the same bottle of white zinfandel, laughed. Yes, they laughed the way friends should, didn’t they? After all, that is the way they started, right? Brandon, a preppie, pretentious, deep-voiced prince, strong, loud, wide-eyed and truthful, and, she, quiet, yielding, sweet, soft and humble. How trite was it that they connected so easily? Did that happen everyday? Brandon told a joke, she laughed hard, and she wondered how she got so lucky. She figured that she would never admit to him that the moment she fell in love with him, she knew that he was the one. Ha, did that even exist? Sure. As far as Natalie Chandler was concerned Brandon was all that she needed, all she could ever think about, blushed at the idea that the word obsession was quickly aligned with him.

  #

  He didn’t mean to get her that drunk. But, as they walked the stone pathway, beneath the palm trees that night in the direction of the main house, he couldn’t help but laugh at her. Damn it, the girl couldn’t walk in a straight line to save her life, she stumbled over simple words, and that breathy giggle was enough to drive him crazy. He would take her dancing on the ocean terrace by the calypso band. She said that the music reminded her of the days that her father was around, and hell, he couldn’t deny her that. He hoped that it wouldn’t take long, though. The broad-shouldered, beast of a man couldn’t wait to get his beautiful brown wife into that big floral bed. At this point, his body warmed with rum punch, belly full of tenderloin, he figured he could go all night, but he would take it slow. She deserved romance, didn’t she? After all, her body was new to this, and the couple of times they’d done it since the wedding had hurt her a little, and she, having perfected the whole “submissive”, “vulnerable” act, was a willing learner and participant. And he would give it all that he had inside of him.

  He would just sway with her a little on the colored stone of the terrace, feel the breeze blow his hair, hear the steel drums, feel a bit of ocean spray, and he would hold her. Yes, he would hold for her as long as he wanted. She smelled so good then, drove him nuts, and he could feel her hips roll a little against him. Oh, Tallie, don’t do that, please…might lose it out here…

  His stomach did some funky flip when she pressed her lips against the side of his face. Yes, those lips. He brought them to his own, smaller, less significant, but excited, loving the fullness of hers, anticipating the many moments that this pair of plush brown confection would be near him in the many years that they would be together.

  His wife…

  Ha, Brandon Greene, you finally did it! And who would’ve thought it? He, who was shamefully so far up Sophia Baldwin’s ass, that there was no hope for him. But he’d been at the bar with Scotty one night some years ago and his curly-headed companion had asked him about the pretty, brown skinned thing with the legs that seemed to go on for days (from that moment on, Scotty had secretly called Natalie “Legs”) at the Christmas party his junior year.

  “Where did you take her? You nasty bastard, did you land her? Behind Sophia’s back, I’m so proud of you,” Silly Scotty had said.

  “No, man, it was nothing like that,” Brandon blushed over his beer. “We went for…tea…”

  “Tea? You little faggot. You really went for tea?”

  “Yes. It’s the truth. She’s a really cool girl…”

  “But Brandon, you don’t have friends that are girls…well, that you actually talk to the morning after…”

  He remembered that his heart had tightened. Truly! “Well…funny thing is, this girl is
different…she did ask about you…”

  “Did she?”

  “Yes…”

  “I met her, but I forgot her name. What’s her name?”

  “Natalie…”

  “Natalie,” Scotty had sung. “Dude, give me her number…”

  “Not a chance,” Brandon told him. “You’re not getting anywhere near her…this one’s a good one…”

  “Come on, man,” Scotty said, slapping his friend on the back. “I just want to take her out…you know for tea…”

  He was reluctant to give Scotty her number. He only wanted her for himself. But, he wanted to put up a substantial front in the beginning of their friendship; he wanted to pretend as if Tallie didn’t matter. Sure, he would give his best friend a chance to score with the pretty girl. And deep down he could only pray that Natalie turned him down.

  He would never look at her and admit that, from the first moment he looked at her (yes, even a drunken mess), he’d fallen. Ha! Brandon Greene, did you actually fall in love that quickly? Doesn’t love take time? Practice? Effort? Surely. Yes, in any ordinary situation, these things would all come into play. But, loving Natalie came easy. Loving Natalie was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Wanting to take care of her was something that he’d always felt, always felt was his purpose. She would never know that sometimes he’d stay up and watch her sleep, that sometimes (sometimes!), he’d thank God that he’d found her, that the only reason that he went to graduate school at all was so he could stay in Athens and be near her. No, she’d think he was crazy, and she’d tell him so, and maybe, she’d rethink being with him at all.

  But hell, he hoped not. He kind of liked the whole idea of waking up in the morning and seeing her there. The image of her sleeping face kind of made him happy.

  When the hell did you get so sappy, Brandon Greene?

  Weren’t you one of the love-them-and-leave-them types? When did you start giving a damn?

 

‹ Prev