Wanted By You

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Wanted By You Page 9

by Steph Nuss


  "Bullshit," he said, pulling me back into our conversation. He narrowed his eyes at me playfully and ran his hand up my calf as he said in a soothing voice, "You have your own clinic. You have a few new friends. Justin and Tessa seem like good people. Come on, what else?"

  "I have my own apartment now," I offered, not knowing exactly what he wanted me to tell him. Nothing exciting had happened in the last five years besides finishing school. "I mean, it's nothing fancy, but Paige and I stopped living together after we graduated." He nodded and motioned for me to continue. "Um," I said, staring up at the ceiling in thought. "Oh, I have a dog! His name is Stag."

  "What breed is he?"

  "He's a black lab. He turned three in March."

  "Labs are good dogs," he said, his eyes drifting down to the envelope sitting in my lap. "Are you gonna look at those? They might help you solve the tattoo mystery."

  I sat up a little straighter and glared over at him, slipping a finger under the flap. "Yeah, but you were distracting me with your hands pleasuring my feet. I'm gonna figure out what that date means before I leave here tonight."

  He shook his head and threw an arm over the couch in my direction. He raised his eyebrows and his lips curled into my favorite sexy smile. "My hands won't be on your feet when they're pleasuring you," he said, his voice deep and confident. I inhaled sharply and the throbbing ache between my legs grew unbearable with his words; a blush blossomed across my cheeks. "And I guarantee you won't be distracted." I shuddered and felt my breasts get heavier as his hand went back to kneading my flesh. I squirmed under his watchful gaze as he took in the torturous effect he had over me, pushing my sexual need into the land of intolerable cruelty.

  He laughed and then leaned over me and pulled my bottom lip from my teeth, grazing his thumb along the ruddy skin. "That's been distracting me all week." My breathing became ragged and his hand brushed along my cheek and down along my neck and my collarbone, tracing circles on my skin. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes as chills danced across my skin. I contemplated turning the tables and jumping his bones, but I couldn't move. He had me under his spell, so mesmerized by the beautiful beast staring down at me and all the feel-good sensations he sent rushing through me, that I could barely form a coherent thought, let alone move.

  "Ellyson," he said, airy and hot. I looked up at him in agony. I felt like I was going to die any minute; like if I didn't get relief soon my vagina would slip into a coma. "Look at the pictures. I know there's a specific picture in that stack that will help you figure it out." He moved my legs off of him and stood up from the couch. "Do you want another?"

  "Sure," I said breathlessly. I needed a cold shower more than a cold beer, but the latter would suffice. As he fetched us more alcohol, I did what I was told and looked through the photos.

  He handed me my beer and I guzzled half of it in an attempt to cool myself down. I curled my legs under my body and peered down at the first photo as Carter sat back down beside me. I smiled at a picture of Carter and me sitting on the tile floor of his dorm room, my head on his shoulder and his head against mine as we slept. I lifted it up and smiled at him. "Why am I just now seeing this?!"

  He laughed and threw his arm back over the couch. "Cash took it. Cash took most of those. That was the second day we hung out together. I remember because I thought those black Nikes you're wearing were really sweet." I laughed and admired the two of us, cute and asleep on one another. I was totally stealing this and making a copy. "I don't know why I never showed it to you."

  "Well, I'm making a copy of it." I laid it down on the coffee table and shuffled through some more. Many were from various parties and games in the dorms when we were freshmen. Others were from times when we hung out at either of our apartments. Nostalgia rushed over me as I shuffled through our past together and with our friends. It was as if I was holding my memories in my hands and physically flipping through them this time.

  Then I came across a photo from Carter's twenty-first birthday. We were in the apartment he shared with Cash and he had his arms wrapped around my waist while pressing a drunk, sloppy kiss on my cheek. I covered my mouth with my hand and laughed at the memory. "You got so drunk that night."

  "I know," he said, shaking his head. "I really like this picture of us though."

  My heart filled with that simple confession. It felt like we were a married couple, flipping through our history together. I sighed and looked over to find him staring down at the picture. The more I watched him admire us, the more I felt his spell weakening and my body coming out of its paralysis. "I really like it, too. Put it in the copy pile."

  He smiled and tossed it onto the coffee table next to the others. I shuffled through some more before coming across the first time we danced together. I stared at the photo and tilted my head to the side, trying to remember what song we were dancing to. The photo was from Paige's birthday. We were alone and slow dancing together in the living room of my old apartment.

  "Do you remember the song that was playing?" he asked, smiling. I couldn’t, and it was frustrating. It was the first time I ever danced with him and I couldn’t remember the damn song.

  I searched his face for the answer and watched his lips attempt to hold back a smirk. Then it hit me. "There wasn't a song playing."

  "You're right. There wasn't a song playing."

  I smiled and flipped to the very last photo and felt my eyes bug out. "Ohmigawd. Where did you get this?" I said, taking in all its details. I was lying on my stomach, naked, with the sheets pulled just high enough that my ass wasn't showing. I was asleep, my face turned away from the camera with my red hair splayed across the pillow. I looked up at Carter. "Seriously, where did you get this?! I've never even seen this before!"

  He laughed and turned toward me. "I didn't get it anywhere. I took the picture on your birthday, and I'm the only person who's ever seen it." He ran a hand through my hair and sighed. "You were passed out drunk, and when I came in to check on you, you looked so beautiful that I had to take a picture of you."

  My eyes widened as I stared back at him and smiled. "Well, I really like it." If it had been any other guy taking a picture of me looking so vulnerable, I would've been upset, insecure, like my privacy was violated, but it was Carter, and I loved the thought of him capturing such a personal moment. It felt like I was looking at some sort of boudoir photography. The way the light from the nightstand splashed across my creamy, pale skin, and the way my lavender sheets covered me perfectly, revealing nothing to the naked eye except a sensual mystery asleep in her bed.

  "Me too," he said, as I continued admiring the picture. I noticed the date and time stamped on the photo and remembered his tattoo.

  I slid off the couch and onto my knees in front of the coffee table, quickly shuffling through all the pictures, looking at their dates.

  Seconds later, I found it.

  The picture of us sleeping on one another. The picture was stamped: 8-27-04. He said it was taken the second time we hung out together which meant I was wrong about what day college had begun.

  I sat back on the couch and glanced over at him. He was smiling and I shook my head in disbelief as a smile slowly spread across my face. I grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up to reveal his tattoo. Eight. Twenty-six. Two thousand four.

  The day we first met.

  "You got the day we met tattooed on you!?" I asked incredulously.

  His eyes softened a little bit and he nodded. "Yeah, right after graduation."

  I smiled and brushed my hand along the stubble on his jaw. "Why didn't you ever tell me how you felt?"

  "Because I was worried you wouldn't feel the same, or that things would become awkward if it didn't work out between us. I didn't want to lose you."

  I tossed the photo back onto the pile and smiled at him. "I felt the same."

  "Oh, yeah?" he asked, smiling. "So, why didn't I know how you felt?"

  I laughed and shook my head. "Because you were this guy that everyone wa
nted. You had a different girl vying for your attention every single day. I didn't think I was good enough for you back then. Plus, we were friends. I didn't think you wanted me that way."

  "That's the only way I've ever wanted you. It's always been you for me."

  I gazed over at him and the desire burning in his eyes matched mine, reigniting the arousal he set aflame just moments ago. I fisted his shirt, quickly pulling it up, and he reached behind him, shucking it all the way as I moved into his lap, tightly straddling him with my thighs. Rough hands gripped my neck and he pulled me in, crushing his eager mouth against mine. The kiss was hard and fierce, like a savage hike up the side of a mountain, but the view from the top was fucking spectacular, marvelous, the Mount Everest of kisses. My hands flew into the silky, soft strands of his hair, and his tongue plunged into me, tangling with mine and sucking on it, wading around the sweet, bitter taste of hops swimming between us. His hands tickled down my throat, tracing my collarbones and caressing my flesh, then cupped my breasts. His thumbs began stroking circles against my hard nipples, and I ground my hips into him, releasing a moan of pleasure into his mouth as he picked up the pace of his strokes, soaking my panties even more.

  My lungs burned, fighting for air, so I broke away from his lips and arched into his palms, wanting more of his touch, wanting to gain more altitude into the mountainous unknown. All my questions and fears from before spilled into oblivion as I tilted my head back and breathed in the cool, clean scent of his masculinity that embraced me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. He found my lips again, nipping his teeth along my bottom lip, and I caressed the thick bulge of muscles sheathing his body made of gold.

  "You're fucking beautiful," he growled, his breath warm against my lips.

  "I want you," I breathed and then started worshiping his body: kissing and sucking over the taut skin of his chest and abdomen, making him shudder as I licked his hard nipples. When I worked my way over to his tattoo, I placed a chaste kiss against the cherished ink and fingered the waistband of his shorts. A groan escaped his throat when my fingers traced the bulge in his shorts, more than ready to set him free and slip him inside of me. I slipped my hand inside his shorts and moaned into his mouth, kissing him and wrapping my fingers around his hard erection, but before I could even begin, he stopped me, grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand out of his shorts.

  "Elly," he said, breathing heavily, resting his forehead against mine.

  My hands slipped into the messy strands of his hair and I sighed, trying my best to push back any feelings of rejection. This was not happening. Why did he want us to stop when everything felt so good, so right, so utterly perfect between us? "What's wrong?" I asked, holding my breath, confused and worried.

  He sighed and shook his head. "Nothing's wrong," he said in a deep voice, pulling back to look into my eyes. His gaze was still heated and dark, but full of seriousness as he cradled my face in his hands. Their warmth against my flushed skin and the way he gently caressed my cheekbones soothed me, and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  "The reason I stopped us isn't because I don't want to. Believe me; I want to. I want you, Elly. I've wanted you since the day I met you." Hearing his tender words and seeing him relax fueled my confidence again. "I've spent a lot of sleepless nights imagining what it would be like to be with you. To touch you and kiss you and explore every inch of you." Running his fingers through my hair, he brushed his lips against mine, soft and slow, calming the last bit of my nerves. "You're better than I ever imagined. I know we've waited a long time and we're both ready to take things further, but tonight I wanna appreciate just being with you."

  A smile slowly stretched across my face and I kissed his neck, inhaling the fresh, delicious scent coming off of him. I love the way he smells. I love everything about him. I ran my fingertips along his stubble and looked him in the eyes. Even though he had me wired and ready to explode, his loving words trumped any desire I had to beg him to change his mind. "I want that, too," I said against his lips, tasting him again. His lips felt perfectly connected to mine. He ran his hands down my sides and rested them on my hips. As long as we were saying what we wanted, I smiled against his mouth and said, "But I also want the wild, crazy, can't-feel-my-legs-anymore sex, too."

  He laughed and flipped me onto my back, stretching us out along the soft cushions of his couch. He covered my body with his and looked down at me with determined eyes before pressing his mouth against mine. His hand snaked up my leg and hooked it around his hip, rocking his pelvis into me. "And you'll get your wild, crazy, can't-even-walk-you're-so-sore sex. Just give me this tonight."

  Chapter Eleven

  Carter

  I walked into Judge's solo on Friday night and saw Cash behind the bar. Elly told me the night before how he lived in an apartment above the bar and worked there part-time. I hadn't seen him since graduation. He was like a brother to me back during college and another person I regretted not staying in touch with; from the looks of him, though, nothing had changed.

  "Holy shit!" he shouted. "Look who finally found his way back." He reached a hand out and pulled me into a brotherly hug. "It's good to see you again, man."

  "Yeah, same here," I said, taking a seat on a barstool.

  "What's your poison tonight? Beer? Whiskey? Scotch?" he asked, rattling off my three favorites.

  I smiled and pointed to the tap. "Just a beer. Thanks."

  He poured me a glass and I took in Judge's. It wasn't a place we frequented in college. In fact, I never even knew it existed until Elly mentioned it the other night on the phone. It was a smaller bar with a small town feel to it. Many of its patrons were regulars; it was definitely not for tourists. There were booths against the side walls with a few round tables set up in the middle and a couple of pool tables and dart boards toward the back, near the restrooms. The bar Cash stood behind was rectangular, enabling lots of people to sit around the watering hole.

  It wasn't crowded. Everyone seemed laid-back. I liked it.

  Cash filled a few more drink orders and then walked back over to where I was sitting.

  "So, what have you been up to in the last few years?" I asked. Cash was one of those people who could float from one job to the next and live successfully. Money didn't matter to him, and that's why we got along so well. Unlike a lot of my old friends in Texas, Cash didn't care about where I came from or how much money I had in a trust fund.

  "I work here part-time, but I also have my own radio show," he said, wiping down the countertop. "After you moved out, I found the apartment above this bar and started working here whenever they needed help. This place used to be Judge Winger's bar, Fletcher's grandpa. Judge passed away a year after I moved in and Fletcher took over managing. Since I live close by, I help out whenever someone can't work or whatever. I don't mind it. It gives me a little play money as well as some good material for the show."

  "I can't believe somebody gave you a radio show," I said, shaking my head even though it was probably the best job for him. Cash was a smooth talker, and most of the time, you couldn’t get him to shut up. He could talk to anyone about anything, even if it was a topic he didn't know anything about. He pulled information out of his ass and acted like he knew what he was talking about. Having his own radio show was perfect for him. "Is most of it bleeped out?"

  "Surprisingly, no," he said, laughing. "My boss has gotten on my ass a few times about my language, but nothing major. I'm not gonna change who I am just because I'm on the fuckin' radio."

  "What do you talk about?"

  "Mostly entertainment stuff and sports."

  I nodded. "That's cool."

  "So, how's your dad doing?" he asked, restocking the cooler. "Better, I assume, since you're back."

  "Yeah, he's doing a lot better. He's back at work, and I'm working at the college as an English professor."

  "Yeah, I heard," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe the smartass who skipped class the most in college is a teache
r now. Do we all have to call you Professor Jennings now?"

  I shook my head, and he laughed and walked off to pour more drinks. I turned my attention toward the flat screen hung up in the corner of the bar and watched sports highlights while he worked.

  When he walked back over he had an arrogant smile on his face.

  "So, I heard you and Elly hung out last night. Did you ask her to marry you yet?" he joked.

  "No, I didn't." I tipped back my glass and he stared at me, waiting for more information. He had always enjoyed giving me shit about Elly in the past. Nothing had changed. "But, yeah, we hung out last night."

  He raised a brow and nodded. "It's nice that you two finally decided to pull your heads out of your asses."

  "What about you? Is there a future Mrs. Cash Donovan?" I asked, laughing.

  "Fuck, no," he said, rolling his eyes. "You know me. I don't wanna be tied down."

  I smiled and shook my head. "I can't wait until you find your Elly."

  "Not gonna happen," he said, shaking his head.

  He got back to work. I never thought Elly was going to happen either, and now I was absolutely crazy about her. I couldn't imagine spending the rest of my life without her. In the last nine years, I'd learned one thing about love: it's unexpected. If it weren’t, none of us would ever fall into it.

  While I was watching more sports highlights and Cash was tending bar, the door to the bar dinged and Paige Abram walked in. Cash refilled my beer and started mixing Paige's vodka cranberry, and she threw her purse on the bar and smiled at us. "Well, if it isn't Johnny and June back together again!" She laughed, bringing back our old nicknames. She had started calling us Johnny and June the minute Elly introduced her to us.

  "Hey, Paige," Cash said, smiling, as he slid her drink toward her.

  "Hey. Thanks."

 

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