by M.A. Stacie
“So long,” he whispered with reverence. “Too long.”
I frowned, perplexed by his short ramble. It was quickly forgotten the instant he raised his hips again. At that moment nothing could have stopped me.
Nothing at all.
“Elle. I need you.”
I blinked, but knowing a small smile was playing across my face. In tomorrow’s light of day this may seem like a mistake but right now it was dark, and I was consumed with lust. Things had never looked better.
“Please,” I begged, rolling my hips against him.
His reply was a predatory smile shortly before he began to pull my sweater over my head. I went along with it, shaking my hair and letting it cascade down my back and across his fingers. I heard a low rumble, so I repeated the action, filing away the fact that he enjoyed the soft caress of my hair.
I sat partially naked before him, a perfect stranger.
I should have been embarrassed, but I wasn’t. In fact, I felt bolder knowing he wanted me. We’d danced around each other for far too long. If tonight was all we had, then I would embrace it with open arms.
I refused to think about the morning.
Jonah moved back slightly, taking in my bare chest. He licked his lips and circled a nipple with a single finger as if he were seeing one for the first time. I watched and waited, although my hips had a mind of their own and rocked gently against his erection. Neither of us spoke as his hand trembled on my body. The silence was seductive.
I placed my hands on his torso, skimming my palms across his toned abdomen.
“Now,” I breathed, only trusting myself with the one word.
His lips met mine again in a deep, thorough kiss.
They demanded; they devoured; and they left me gasping for breath.
I yelped when he lifted us up, spinning us around and placing me on my back across the couch. He held onto the waistband of my leggings and paused. It was a silent question, one I answered with an action of my own; I lifted my hips allowing him to remove them. The black fabric was flung over his shoulder. I heard a low moan that emanated from his chest. It made me smile. He obviously liked what he saw. Excited by his reaction, I spread my legs and drank in his tattooed torso. The black images stood out on his pale skin as the shadows highlighted the muscles of his abdomen. I fought to stop my thighs from clenching. The ache that had begun to grow in my center became more intense as I stared at his glorious body.
Jonah seemed to read my mind, because he stood, ridding himself of his sweats before climbing on top of me and blanketing me in his warmth.
“Please,” I whimpered, knowing I was only repeating my earlier statement.
“Elle... I don’t... I don’t know where this-”
I stopped him by kissing him with a deep kiss. I didn’t want him regretting this before we’d even done anything. He seemed to understand and reciprocated with just as much lust. He skimmed his hand down my body, cupping my ass, and moving my leg around his hip. It brought his erection in line with my sex. I bucked against him, hoping he’d ease my ache soon. He seemed to enjoy my delirium and rolled his arousal against me once more. It slipped between my folds, eliciting a sigh. I was going to beg again, when I felt the tip of him touch my entrance. I shifted my stance, grasped his hips, and pushed against his shaft with all the force I had.
I whimpered.
Jonah hissed.
Elation flooded my body, head to toe. I felt so full, so utterly consumed by him. He remained still, allowing my body to adjust to the invasion. His body, his warmth, his lips; all teasing mine. Every part of Jonah was connected to me. It was sending my need into overdrive. As if reading my thoughts, Jonah pulled away slightly, and waited a second before thrusting back into me. Gasps filled the apartment; each of us being carried away in this blissful moment.
My thoughts dispersed around his third thrust, leaving behind nothing except a body desperate for things only he could deliver. Urging him on, I squeezed my thighs tighter around his hips and was rewarded with a low hum.
His fingers dug into my ass, pulling me as close as he could, as his hips sped to keep up with my pace. I was having difficulty breathing and reluctantly moved my lips from his, burying my face in the crook of his neck. His scent was stronger there. I felt myself become wetter with each breath I took. Jonah felt it too, because he groaned and began to pump into me with force.
We became a mixture of thrusts, moans, kisses, and sighs. I couldn’t get enough of him; couldn’t feel him deep enough. Our breathing was labored. I was clawing at his back desperate for my release. My stomach began to clench, showing just how close I was to completion.
Jonah stared down at me, and breathed one word before I shattered into a thousand pieces, “Elle.”
I arched against him, throwing my head back and moaning as every cell in my body was flooded with happiness. Jonah shuddered and grunted above me as his hips slowed and eventually coming to a stop. We were left fighting for breath and struggling to right our equilibrium.
Neither one of us could move, though his weight was crushing me. As Jonah became responsive, he shuffled us awkwardly around. We lay side by side on the couch facing each other. His stunned expression mirrored my own. My skin was still buzzing as aftershocks wracked Jonah’s torso.
What were we supposed to do now?
I opened my mouth, but again, he had other ideas and began a luscious, thorough kiss. He held my neck with his hand, tilting me into a much deeper position. His tongue and teeth teased my lower lip, eliciting incoherent whimpers from me. I went along with his arousing demand and eventually moved my face back to his neck. I nuzzled the crook of it, feeling his rumbled sigh reverberate down his throat.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Don’t thank me.”
“Why not?” I asked, still enveloped in post-coital bliss, therefore missing the edge to his words.
He stroked my arm, rubbing his chin across the top of my head and ruffling my hair. “You didn’t need this. I took advantage.”
“You didn’t! Jonah, I was-”
“I just want you to know that I’m not usually like this. I don’t... interact well,” he lamented, his legs rubbing seductively against mine.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. Your interaction made me very happy.”
Jonah huffed, his arms banding around me.
“Shush,” he soothed. “Rest now.”
I blinked, startled by his words. Did he want me to sleep here? In his arms?
After a speedy debate, I decided to just go with it and close my eyes. Tomorrow was another day. I would take whatever it threw my way, because right now I was happy in Jonah’s comforting embrace.
As I lay in his arms, my mind slowly began to work again, processing the events of the evening. Jonah had felt as desperate as I had for comfort, but why? I didn’t believe for one moment that the attack on me had affected him in the same way, so what had happened in those few hours to make him so sad? Whatever it was, I had been the one to make it better for him, just as he had for me. I couldn’t stop pride from building within me. We’d calmed each other. No matter what the repercussions were tomorrow, I couldn’t regret what we’d just done. I hoped he didn’t either.
“Stop thinking, Elle,” he said, breaking the silence.
“Sleep or at least nap.”
“But, Jonah, what just-”
“Sleep,” he interrupted, shutting me down and showing there was no room for debate.
I took a lung full of his scent and closed my eyes, knowing this moment would be over the minute I opened them. Right here, right now, we were close. I wasn’t in a rush for it to end. So I remained quiet and listened to his slow, steady breaths, as I tried to fight the fatigue.
Eventually it won and I closed my eyes, falling into a peaceful sleep.
I knew he was gone the moment I woke. I didn’t need to open my eyes to feel the lack of his warm body on the couch. It was obvious he hadn’t been there for some time.
It was cold. Sadness surrounded me, but then what had I expected? Hugs? Kisses? A repeat performance?
I sat up, feeling self-conscious in the cold light of day and reached for Jonah’s discarded wife beater. I brought it to my nose, inhaling before pulling it over my head. The shirt didn’t cover much of my body, but it would do until I found the rest of my clothes. The clock on the wall showed that I’d only been asleep a couple of hours. I wondered if Jonah moving from the couch had been what woke me. I scanned the apartment, noting it was exactly as it had been when I’d arrived. Jonah was nowhere to be seen.
He had left me.
What was I supposed to do now? Had he left the apartment, only to return when he was sure I’d gone back home? Anxiety churned in my stomach at the thought of that. I knew this incident would appear different when we woke, but was it so horrible for him that he couldn’t stay to see me and at least acknowledge what had happened?
I fumbled with my discarded clothing, trying not to cry or think too much about why he’d left me. I quickly checked the bedroom, confirming to myself more than anything, that I was alone. It was self-torture, but I needed the proof. When the reality was undeniable, I shoved my leggings on and walked to the front door.
That was when I saw the note. It was taped to the door, nothing more than a piece of paper torn from a notebook with two words penciled across it.
I’m sorry.
I whined, ripped it from the wood, and slammed the door behind me. I didn’t bother with the elevator; I wanted to lock myself in my own apartment and hide from my foolishness. I should have known it was too good to be true. I’d ignored the voice in my head that told me this wasn’t going to end well. I thought I knew better. I thought it wouldn’t feel as bad, but rejection was rejection. It still clawed at my heart whether I thought I’d prepared myself or not. We’d shared very few words, knew next to nothing about each other, and yet I’d shared my body – my most intimate moments, with him. What the hell had I expected?
I stormed into my apartment, my shame turning to anger, as I stalked right to the bathroom. I took off my leggings, discarding them on the floor and turned on the shower. It was only when I reached for the hem of my top that I realized I was still wearing Jonah’s wife beater. It smelled of us. I wanted to tear it up before shoving it into his mailbox, but I couldn’t. Instead, I turned off the water and walked dejectedly to my bedroom. I snuggled up in my blanket still wearing his clothes and felt Meow pad onto the mattress, before coming to rest near my head. He pushed his nose against mine, wanting me to cuddle him, so I brought him close as he purred against my hand.
Maybe Meow was the only male I should allow in my life. He certainly would be there when I woke up.
“So that’s it?” J.J. questioned, picking up a tight pink dress and measuring it against her slim form.
I moaned, trying on a pair of sunglasses. “I guess so, but then again, I have no idea.”
“Have you tried knocking on his damn door?”
“I went back the same afternoon, J.J. I told you this! But I’m not going to beg for it.”
“Why not?” She laughed.
I glared at her, placing my hands on my hips, hoping she’d understand this time. “Jonah Quinn is a stunningly beautiful enigma, but I won’t make him open up to me-”
“Seems like he already did that,” she interrupted, backing away and smirking when I pouted at her.
“I’m just saying, the guy was good in bed, right?”
She tucked a strand of her white-blond hair behind her ear, then toyed with a small silver hoop that adorned the lobe.
“So why would you let that get away? The guy is on your doorstep.”
“And that means I automatically have to make him my booty call?”
I didn’t wait for a response; I stalked from the store leaving her openmouthed.
I loved my friend, but she was so matter-of-fact sometimes that I couldn’t help but get frustrated. I wasn’t like her, and this city was still so new to me. By no means was I shy. I’d had my fair share of one-night stands, but I had thought Jonah was more than that. J.J. based everyone’s experiences on her own, and because of the way she saw the world, she seemed abrupt when giving advice. By all accounts, J.J. had always been a free spirit; even her parents found it difficult to get her to abide by any rules. She had broke every single one of them when she married a man she’d known for two weeks in Vegas. She filed for divorce a month later. Her parents had been livid, but J.J. brushed it off and moved on. Her motto was that she never regretted the things she’d done; only what she hadn’t. That was what she lived by. She slept with who she wanted, regardless of gender or age, and right now, she was seeing Elijah who was eight years younger than her.
Before Eli, there had been Roxi. She was hilarious and really great keeping J.J. centered. I was surprised when she told me it was over between them, and more than a little shocked when she met Eli three days later.
J.J. was like a whirlwind. You either went along for the ride or got flung out by the vortex. I met her days after moving to New York. She had been running out of a coffee shop and ended up spilling her latte all over my top. If it had happened to me back home I would have raged on the person, but for some reason we both burst out laughing.
We spent the rest of the afternoon chatting, not giving the drying coffee stain a second thought.
J.J.’s advice was always the same; take it or leave it. In truth, she wasn’t bothered, because she lived her life, not anyone else’s. I often wished I could go about life as carefree as her, but my insecurities always crept through; more-so when it came to men. Men who crept away while I slept.
“Hey, wait up!” J.J. shouted, pulling on my arm.
Her ice blue eyes pierced mine, waiting for some kind of explanation.
“J.J., you just don’t get it. I can’t be like you and just brush his rejection off.”
“You don’t know that it is rejection,” she pointed out, looping her arm into mine and steering us down the street.
“I don’t need him to say the words.”
“Elle, you have no idea what was going on in his head, and you haven’t been back to ask him either. So how do you know it was rejection? He could have told you to get out as soon as you guys finished the dirty deed, but he didn’t. He asked you to sleep next to him, actually sleep with him. Guys don’t do that,” she pointed out smugly.
“And that means what?” I asked, bringing us to a halt in the middle of the street.
I stared at her, unsure as to why she couldn’t see that significance. I was about to speak when she read my mind. “Oh, I’m not stupid. I get you, but do you really think a guy you’ve spoken to a handful of times is going to want you in his bed? Think about it. Then go and talk to him.”
I couldn’t argue with her; she did have a point, but it didn’t mean I had to like it. I pursed my lips, and for the second time today, left her gaping as I walked into the nearest store. I could hear her heels clicking on the ground as she followed me. We were firmly inside the store by the time I looked around.
I scrunched my nose in distaste, gazing at the shelves full of graphic novels, huge cardboard cut-outs of superheroes, and groups of gothed-out teenagers. I’d had no idea where I was walking when I stormed off from J.J.
Obviously I need to look before I leap. Wasn’t that the story of my life?
“New reading material?” J.J. laughed.
I rolled my eyes, mortification flaming my cheeks.
“You’re not funny,” I started, but was unable to stop the smile that was teasing my lips.
“I’m not the one that walked into a teenage boy’s wet dream.”
“Shut up and let’s get out of here.”
I stalked to the door, reaching for the handle when something caught my eye. I stopped abruptly, about to turn around, when J.J. walked straight into my back.
“Hey!”
I ignored her, heading straight for the graphic novel display in the corner of the s
tore. The drawing on the front of one called to me; I’d seen it before, but it was where I’d seen it that left me so perplexed. It was the tattoo on Jonah’s ribcage; I was certain.
I picked the paper novel up, skimming my fingers across the front cover. The image was haunting – a man dressed in black, the only features I could make out were his thin lips and hard set jaw, because a large hood concealed his face. Everything else was covered in fabric or shadow. He seemed to be an assassin of sorts; the text simply stated Darkness. The only annotation to an author was a small circle surrounded by a larger one, followed by a diagonal line running through the dead center.
“So you really have found something new,” J.J.
sighed.
“Jonah has this,” I pointed out. “This image – this man, Jonah has it tattooed on his side.”
“So he’s a closet geek then.”
“I... I don’t know. Maybe.”
I frowned, transfixed by the picture on the cover.
J.J. was grumbling, wanting to get out of the store, but I didn’t want to put the book down. So, on a whim, I took it to the register and handed it to the boy with a face full of makeup behind the counter.
“This guy is awesome. Nice choice, lady. Did you check out his other work? It’s all on the stand in the corner.”
I nodded, handing him my credit card, as he continued. “He has another one coming out next month. The pre-order sales are through the roof.”
J.J. snickered, bumping her hip against mine. She was teasing me, but who the hell could blame her? I seemed to have left my sanity on Jonah’s couch.
I accepted my purchase, taking note of the flyer he placed in the paper bag, and shuffled from the store. I couldn’t meet J.J.’s gaze, because I knew she was laughing at me. I was laughing right along with her. Who the hell buys a graphic novel with as to what one even is?
“I really need a coffee, Elle, and to be honest, I think caffeine withdrawal is doing something weird to you.
Maybe if you had a double-shot espresso you’d realize what you just bought.”