by Alice Tribue
The sound of banging on my front door causes me to jump. I check the time on my cell phone and wonder who in the hell could be at my door before eight in the morning. Whoever it is couldn’t have chosen a more inconvenient time to show up. Luckily, I’ve taken my morning shower and my hair is now styled, but I’m still lingering in a bath towel. I grab the terrycloth robe that hangs on the bathroom door and put it on, tying the belt as I make my way to the door.
“Fuck,” I say barely above a whisper when I look out of the peephole. How in the hell did he get in my building? I think to myself as I undo the deadbolt and the lock.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” I half yell as I fling open the door. It’s the last thing I’m able to say because, somehow, Nathan is in my apartment, the door is closed, and I’m pinned against it. It all happened so impossibly fast that I don’t have time to fight or protest when his lips descend and claim mine. My hands instinctively move to his shoulders and give an unsuccessful push. I open my mouth to argue and regret it instantly when he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue inside. This is about the point where I lose all coherent thought and will to fight. He’s won; the battle is over. The tension begins to leak out of my body, my arms twine around his neck, and I begin to kiss him back.
My acceptance registers with him, and the intensity of his kiss goes from hot to blazing. His hands haven’t left the door, but still, I can feel him everywhere and I want more. A moan escapes from my lips. It’s a plea for more, but instead of giving it to me, Nathan pulls back breaking the kiss and grinning down at me.
“I thought I’d buy you a coffee and give you a ride to work.”
“I thought I told you good-bye last night?” I ask, sounding breathless.
“And I told you that it wasn’t good-bye.”
“So, you’re just going to push your way into my life?”
“As long as I think you actually want me to.”
He has my number; there’s no point in arguing, at least not at this time of day. I’ll get that cup of coffee in me first and then see how I feel. I roll my eyes to communicate my faux displeasure and add in a sigh for good measure.
“I’m going to get dressed.”
“Wear pants. You don’t want to burn your legs on the bike.”
I walk into my bedroom and sift through my closet, opting to pair a light blue blouse with black slacks and pumps. After getting dressed, I do a quick check of my hair and make-up, and then I’m done. I grab a jacket on the way back out to the living room. Nathan rises from his position on my couch and scans my body appreciatively.
“You ready to go?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I really should keep the sarcasm to a minimum; he’s only here because he knows that in reality I want him to be here. It’s not like I’m trying to play hard to get, though. I honestly believe that it’s not a good idea to be mixed up with him. That’s the God’s honest truth, but it doesn’t change the fact that I want to, and if that kiss earlier was any indication at all, getting mixed up with him might be well worth the hassle.
Nathan holds the door open as I grab my purse and my keys; he leads me downstairs and out of the building. Once we’re outside, he grabs my hand and we walk down the block to the coffee shop.
“Vanilla latte?” he asks when we get in line.
“Yes.”
“And to eat?”
“Croissant.”
I leave him to order and find a small table in the back of the shop. My mind goes back to the kiss from earlier, the one that he basically stole. I know I should be angry with him for barging in on me the way he did and for catching me off guard, but instead, I think a part of me feels flattered that he is interested enough in me to go through all this effort. Then, of course, there’s that part of me that’s ridiculously attracted to him and wants more than just a kiss. It’s only been a few days, but I’m tired of telling her to shut up.
“Am I going to make you late?” I look up just as Nathan is placing a small tray on the table.
I shrug my shoulders and smile. “I own the place; it’s not like I can get fired.”
He takes a seat and nods. “The perks of being your own boss?”
“Something like that.” I pick up my coffee and drink, relishing in the first sip of the day. “Nathan, what are you getting from all of this? You’re young and handsome; I’m sure you can have just about any woman. Are you just one of those guys who loves the chase and then gets bored once he’s won the girl?”
“No, although you are making this fun. You act like a five-year age difference is a crime. If it was the other way around and I was older than you were, then you probably wouldn’t even bat an eyelash. Is it so hard for you to believe that I like you, and I think you like me, too?”
“I guess not.”
He grins at me, and I swear I feel it everywhere. EVERYWHERE, and just like that, I decide that maybe I need to stop fighting this thing with Nathan and let it take its natural course. Whatever that may be.
“Eat up; I have to get you to work,” he orders me and, because I’m actually hungry, I do what he says. When I’m finished eating, Nathan takes me to work and delivers me to my office as he said he would. He walks me to the door and grabs my hand before I have a chance to go inside.
“Victoria,” he calls, leaning in close. I close my eyes and his lips are on mine, his tongue slowly slipping into my mouth. My body begins to react, to give in to him as his hands roam the expanse of my back. I let out a moan when he runs his hand gently through my hair. I just begin to get a feel for him when he pulls away, kissing me on the forehead with a parting kiss that lingers the whole day.
***
Every morning this week, without fail, Nathan has shown up at my building with coffee and pastries and given me a ride to work. Just like with the first morning, he leaves me with a kiss and a promise for more. I make it home in record time from work today so that I can get ready for my date with Nathan. After dropping me off to work this morning, he let me know that he was taking me out to dinner tonight and that I should be ready by seven. I’ve just finished my make-up when my cell phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Hey, babe.”
“Hey, what’s up? Are you on your way?”
“No, I’m not. I’m sorry. I had someone call out sick, and I have to work an event across town tonight.”
“Oh.” I try to hide my disappointment. “Okay, it’s no problem.”
“I’m sorry. I was really looking forward to seeing you tonight.”
“It’s really okay, Nathan. We can do it another night.”
“All right, Tori. I’ll call you later.”
“It’s Victoria,” I mutter after he’s already disconnected the call. I’m left with a lingering thought of the abruptness of his call. Do I believe that he has to work? Or is he with someone else? I mentally chastise myself for going down that road of uncertainty and distrust. I’m not that type of woman. I will not act meek or weak for that matter, especially not for a man.
I throw on a pair of comfy sweatpants and a camisole, order takeout, and then settle in to make it a Friday movie night. I think I make it about halfway through the first movie before my eyelids begin to droop and I eventually fall asleep on the couch. It isn’t until I hear a knock on the front door and glance at the clock to find that it’s past two in the morning that I realize I’ve been asleep out here for hours.
A quick peek out of the peephole tells me that it’s Nathan on the other side of the door.
“Nathan?” I question as I open the door for him. He looks tired. I can see it in his eyes, but it doesn’t diminish his appeal. He’s still every bit the confident, sexy man that I can’t seem to say no to. “What are you doing here so late?”
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he walks into my apartment, shuts the door, and pounces, grabbing me by the waist, pulling me to him, and kissing me fiercely. I brace my hands on his shoulder needing to hold onto him in order to stay upright because I
’m both completely turned on and completely exhausted. Suddenly, it doesn’t matter how exhausted I am because I’m up in his arms with my legs wrapped tightly around his waist, and he’s on the move. I have no idea how we make it into my bedroom unscathed or how he manages to get us in here without ever breaking the kiss. Even when my back hits the bed, he’s on top of me using his hands to pin me to the mattress.
“I wanted to see you,” he says, eyes blazing and hungry. His lips are on me again, kissing my lips, chin, and neck. He releases his hold on my hands, leaving one of his on the bed and using his free hand to roam, feeling his way up and down my body and stopping on my chest. He pulls the camisole down to expose my pebbled breasts. I swear I hear him growl as he takes them in. My head is clouded over; I can’t think, and it only gets worse when he flicks at my nipple with the tip of his tongue. My back arches off the bed and my hands—the traitors—grab hold of his hair and refuse to let go. He takes this as an invitation to continue, an invitation to be bolder, one that he has no problem accepting. He takes his time sucking on my nipple while using his hand to play with the other. A whimper escapes from my mouth; he shuts me up by coming in for another kiss, drowning out all sounds. He’s good at the art of seduction. I’ve known that from the very first night that we met, but this… this is beyond good and I’m all in. I have no idea how we got to this moment so quickly, but I couldn’t say no or stop him if I tried.
His hands continue their descent down my body, his eyes locked on mine. “Do you want me stop?”
There’s no decision here as far as I’m concerned. I can’t stop it because it’s already too late. “No,” I respond barely above a whisper.
I close my eyes as he kisses me again, his hand reaching the barrier of my clothing. He slides his hand under my pants, under my underwear, until he’s cupping me. Then he slowly begins to stroke me gently.
“Nathan,” I whimper his name.
His fingers dip inside, deftly parting the sensitive folds of my pussy, starting to drive me wild with his touch.
“I’ve got you,” is his only response as he continues rubbing my already swollen clit in a pattern that makes me almost delirious. His words only heighten my desire for him and my cries are becoming more frequent now. He positions his thumb directly over my clit, relentlessly assaulting it as he slips a finger inside of me. I gasp at the invasion, but the pleasure of it overcomes me. My hips begin to move on their own accord, meeting his movements as he slips another finger inside and picks up the rhythm. My legs begin to tremble, and I can feel the familiar tightening of my body alerting me that I’m almost there. A few more flicks of his thumb and I’m sent over the edge, falling with no end in sight, overcome with an orgasm that seems to go on forever.
Nathan’s mouth is on my neck, kissing me and nipping at the skin. I loosen the grip I have on his shoulders as the orgasm begins to recede, leaving me breathless and not totally coherent.
“You all right?” he questions with a smile.
I nod twice and close my eyes from both exhaustion and embarrassment. Given my line of work, one would assume that I am free and easygoing when it comes to sex, but I’m normally very careful about who I’m intimate with. I don’t lose myself easily, but with Nathan, caution seems to fly out the window. I was expecting him to press on and want to have sex, or at the very least seek reciprocation, but he doesn’t make a move.
“Hey,” he calls after rolling off me and onto his side. I turn my head and do my best to focus my hazy vision on him. “Is it all right if I stay the night?”
“Ummm, sure.” I do my best to hide the confusion in my voice, but it must be written all over my face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing's wrong, I just thought…”
“That we were going to have sex.”
“Well, yeah. I’ve never had anyone just end things at foreplay.”
“I think that we should ease into sex.”
“You do?”
“Yes because I think that you still have reservations about us and before we take it there you should be sure that it’s what you want.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” I reply a tad too sarcastically. I watch carefully as he gets up and quickly undresses, leaving nothing but his boxers on before returning to bed.
“Maybe you’ve just been dating the wrong kind of guys.”
“Maybe.” I agree with him, thinking that maybe he’s right. Maybe I have been dating guys who were so totally wrong for me, guys who put their feelings and desires above my own. I contemplate this as I begin to drift off, as Nathan pulls me into his arms and holds me close. I find sleep thinking that being with him feels very right.
The smell of the apartment is bad. There is garbage everywhere, and Mommy is not here. She hasn’t been here in a long time. I’m hungry, but there’s nothing in the refrigerator. There’s never anything in the refrigerator. A tall man came to get Mommy. She went away with him, and I haven’t seen her since. He saw me sitting on the couch and tried to talk to me. He asked me how old I was and if I liked candy but I was too scared of him to answer. He looked funny and he was a stranger. Mommy told him to get away from me and took me into her room. She told me to stay in her room until she left. She told me to make sure I only came out once I heard the door slam and I knew she was gone. It made me cry because I don’t like being left alone; it scares me to be all by myself, but Mommy said she had to go to work and would see me soon. She promised to be right back, but she’s still gone and now I’m scared that she will never come back and I don’t know how to find my daddy. I know he’ll find me, though. Daddy always comes for me. If I can just make it a little longer, I know Daddy will come.
I awake, startled from a nightmare that I haven’t had in years. A memory from a long time ago right before I went to go live with my father permanently. I shake it off and quickly realize that I’m alone in my bed, and Nathan is nowhere to be found. I throw the covers off just as the bedroom door opens and Nathan slips back in.
“Where were you?” I question suspiciously.
“I’m sorry, did I wake you? I got thirsty and just went to the kitchen for a drink of water.”
“No, you didn’t wake me… I just. I’m sorry. I must have had a bad dream.”
He makes it back to the bed and pulls me back into his arms.
“Do you remember what it was about?”
“No,” I lie, not wanting to ruin tonight by speaking of my less-than-stellar early childhood. It isn’t something that I ever really talk about, and I don’t intend to start now. What’s past is the past and there’s no use in reliving any of it.
“Just close your eyes; I’ll be right here if you need me.”
It’s the best promise that I’ve ever heard, and I take comfort in it. I let it envelop me and cover me with the hope that maybe not every relationship is the same, that maybe not every man is the same, and most of all, that maybe I’ve finally met one who makes it okay for me to believe in the possibility of more.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I’m pregnant.”
I stare at one of my girls in disbelief. Utter. Fucking. Disbelief. This is a first and, quite honestly, the last thing I expected to hear coming out of her mouth right now.
“You’re what?” I glare at her unable to hide the anger I’m feeling. Actually, I’m bordering on rage right now.
“Victoria…”
“Katie, what the fuck? How could you do this? Who’s the father?”
“Brandon Miller.”
I put my head in my hands and let out a long, ragged breath. I try my hardest to get my emotions under control, try to breathe through the emotions before I speak, but I’m failing miserably. Control is just not happening. Instead, I lower my hands so that I can look at her.
“Let me get this straight.” I address Katie with what could only be considered a disgusted scowl on my face. She sits across from me looking every bit the innocent and scared girl we both know that she’s not. “
You went and got yourself pregnant by your client. A client who is a married man. A client who doesn’t even know your real name? Am I getting this right?”
“It was an accident, Victoria.”
“There are no accidents. I provide you with adequate options for birth control. I Fucking. Pay. For. It. There is no excuse for you to be sitting here and telling me that you’re pregnant right now.”
“I know.” She looks down, her eyes glassed over with unshed tears. The softer side of me wants to reach out to her, wants to feel bad for her, help her, make it okay, but the business owner in me, the woman who puts her neck out on the line daily for this shit, is pissed.
“Does he know? Did you tell him already?”
“Yes, I told him when I was with him last night.”
“And?” I probe, sitting on the edge of my seat for this reply. This should be good. In fact, knowing Brandon Miller, I could pretty much guess verbatim what his reply to her was.
“He said that he would give me money for an abortion and told me that he would be calling you today to end our arrangement.”
Yup! Verbatim. Typical asshole.
“What did you think he was going to say, that he wanted to run off with you? Marry a girl who he pays to fuck, a girl whose real name he doesn’t even know? You have to be realistic here. Yes. He thinks about you when he’s fucking his wife, but he would never leave her for you. Not in a million fucking years! It doesn’t matter how many times you make his cock explode, it does not matter how many times you take it like he wants to give it to you. You do not matter to him.”
“I know.”
“He’s an asshole, all right? I get that but, sweetie, this is just a complication he was never going to welcome. He’s not going to allow you to ruin his life. You might see this baby as a blessing, but to a man like Brandon, it is nothing but a roadblock. A man like him only cares about himself, his money, and his name. Nothing else matters.”
“I know you’re right.” She looks so defeated, so scared and vulnerable, and I wish I could make that go away, I honestly do, but there’s only so much I can do for her now.