by M.A. Stacie
When he raised his voice I began to feel uncomfortable. It sounded like a private conversation, and even though we’d been intimate, I wasn’t sure he’d want me listening in. In order to avoid an awkward situation, I stood and wandered across the grass. I rested against a tree, watching two small boys play ball. I zoned out, recalling the time I’d spent with Jonah today. I wasn’t aware that I was giggling until he stood before me smiling.
“What’s so funny?”
I blinked, taking note that his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nothing. Are you all right?”
“Sure. Are you ready to go?”
I nodded and moved to pick up my abandoned skates. I could feel him behind me, his body almost flush against mine. Something in that call had stirred him up, whether it was good or bad I had no clue.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I questioned.
“I will be once I get you alone.”
He whispered the words so seductively that I felt them float across my skin. My heartbeat increased. I gulped as he backed me up into the tree. I was about to ask what had happened in the call to alter his mood, when he slid his hands up my neck and cupped my face. His fingers tickled the hair at the nape of my neck, and my toes curled in response.
“Do you want to be alone with me, Red?” He questioned.
“Yes,” I breathed.
His lips touched mine only momentarily, before he pulled away and looked into my eyes.
“Oh, Elle,” he uttered. “Do you know how amazing you are?”
I gasped, unable to absorb his response before he kissed me. This time it was ferocious and needy. The skates dropped to the ground, forgotten. He pulled my head closer to his, and tilted it, allowing his mouth to connect with mine. It was aggressive, rough, and full of need. It was arousing me more than any other kiss I’d ever experienced.
I tentatively explored his mouth with my tongue. I slid it against his, feeling a rumble of appreciation roll up from his chest, through his mouth, and into mine. The noise coursed directly to my nipples, making them taut in their demand to be touched. I was being carried away on a wave of arousal, not really paying attention to where we were, or the people around us. Though I could still hear them in my periphery.
In the back of my mind, I wondered exactly what it was that Jonah found amazing about me. He knew my body but not much more. I should’ve stopped him from kissing me, but his lips felt good moving across mine. The sensation of his hands, as they slipped under my top and tickled my torso, and his knee pushing between my thighs felt perfect.
I adjusted my stance, allowing him to settle it between them. He hummed and moved his mouth to my neck, devouring the flesh. His teeth nipped at the thin skin, making me purr and push my chest closer his. My body had memorized his divine touch. It longed to be taken to the pinnacle of arousal before giving me the most intense completion once again.
completion once again.
His knee began to rock against my core, pushing at my shorts until the seam gathered between my folds. The material pressed against me, making me hiss. At the same time, Jonah swirled his tongue down my neck, leaving a pattern of slow circles with his saliva. He blew across it, causing goose bumps to break out across my skin, and my breasts ached with need.
I pushed my fingers roughly into his hair and grasped. He gave a low growl and began to nose the swell of my breasts. He licked his way across the skin, and my knees almost gave in. I should have been embarrassed about the way I was riding his thigh, acting so wanton in such a public place; but I didn’t care. The world dissipated when I was with Jonah; my need simmering, awaiting his touch.
“We need to go home,” he said.
“Uh-huh,” was the best I could manage.
His hand moved to cup my breast, easing his thumb across my now pert nipple. I moaned as he teased the hardened peak. I wanted more. I always wanted more. I tried to focus on our surroundings; it was futile. His talented tongue lapped at my skin and scattered my thoughts.
“Jonah,” I said breathlessly, but he didn’t stop.
My hands trailed down his back on a quest of their own. I circled the edge of his shorts with my fingers, incited by his moan. They tickled their way to the front of his shorts.
He gasped as I teased the elastic trim. My fingers walked down his skin toward his arousal. He moaned, verbalizing how close I was to his erection. The tips of my fingers itched. I wanted to push my hand further down, but he wrapped his hand around my wrist, stopping me.
“Not here.”
I wiggled my fingers, still wanting more. The look in his eyes cautioned me. I lifted my head and blinked, trying to get my bearings. I could hear our heavy breathing as it floated around us, mixing with the shouting of the people in the park. My pulse drummed against my wrists. I swallowed hard as mortification flooded my system.
“I can’t believe we did that. Here.”
Jonah looked at me through hooded eyes, a small smirk teasing the right side of his swollen lips. His thigh was still rocking against me, teasing me and keeping me aroused.
“No one saw us, Red. You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he rumbled.
“W-we should go,” I stuttered, trying to move away.
He sighed heavily and stepped back, allowing me freedom. I felt instantly bereft without his heat, without him.
“I don’t want to, but I suppose we should.”
He bent to retrieve his skates from the grass and linked his pinkie in mine as he stood up. I stared at him, grinning, because I found his pinkie hold adorable.
“I want to spend more time with you, although I have some work to do. Will you come and see my band tomorrow night?”
He sounded uncertain, as if he expected me to say no. Didn’t my response to him show how much I wanted to be with him? He obviously needed the reassurance, so I balanced on my tip toes and kissed the tip of his nose.
“I thought you wanted me alone.” He winced, so I answered his question. “Yes, but you might have to stop a cat fight if those girls start drooling over you.”
“Trying to defend my honor?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Those girls were vicious! They’d stop at nothing to get you naked and panting for them.”
He snorted, pulling me across the street and back to the store where we’d rented my skates. My heart was still hammering against my chest from our interlude in the park.
I hadn’t wanted it to end, and in some ways, I wished we’d been somewhere else so that it could have gone further.
Except sex wasn’t what we needed right now. Sex would only complicate us further.
So with the express purpose of trying to open the lines of communication between us, I stopped walking and turned to him. “Who were you on the phone to? You sounded angry.”
He frowned and let go of my hand. I thought I’d blown it, but he pushed his hair back from his forehead and spoke. “A friend. There’s an issue with a check I gave him. I asked him to take it to someone... ” He exhaled sharply, scrunching his face up as if he was battling the truth. I was shocked when actually continued. “My parents. I asked him to give the money to my parents. They refused it. They never refuse it.”
“Never? You send them money a lot? Even though they want nothing to do with you? Why?”
He shrugged, “I owe them. They need it.”
“But, Jonah, I don’t-”
“You won’t,” he interrupted. “Not yet, though I know I could tell you in time. Bear with me. I’m getting there.”
I reached out and took his hand in mine, squeezing gently in reassurance. “I will wait, but you won’t get my blind faith forever. I like you, and I know you’re still hurting, but sometimes you have to take the leap. Even if you think it might make the pain worse.”
He nodded and mumbled in agreement, then left me on the sidewalk as he took the skates into the store. I stepped back, leaning against the wall to ensure I could see everyone in front of me, and waited for him.
I contem
plated our conversation, wondering just how long I’d be willing to wait for the truth.
Jonah’s lip ghosted my jaw, his touch so feather-light it made goose bumps break out across my skin. My foot skimmed the back of his thigh, moving higher until I could wrap my leg around his hips. His body blanketed mine, making me feel warm and protected.
I could definitely get used to snuggling with Jonah.
He had come down to my apartment under the guise of watching a movie. We didn’t make it past the start of the trailers before we were necking like teenagers on the couch. It was exhilarating, because Jonah never pushed to go further than the kissing and groping. Maybe he needed this kind of connection too; a step back from the intensity we’d experienced at the beginning of our relationship. We could write new rules where the rules had once been unwritten. It felt right; it felt real.
His need was evident as it pressed between the apex of my thighs. We both continued in a slow, seductive perusal of each others’ mouths and bodies. His hands stayed on top of my T-shirt, skimming up my ribs and resting just below my breast. I squeezed my thighs, adjusting my hips and eliciting a gasp from him. I mumbled an apology, because I hadn’t meant to tease him. He smiled down at me, flashing his dimples before placing a quick peck on the tip of my nose.
“I know. Is this okay, Red?”
I cupped his face in my hands, smoothing the dark hair that had fallen across his forehead. His eyes were hooded and filled with lust. Looking at him made my toes curl. I licked my lips as anticipation flowed through me.
“This is pretty perfect right now,” my sigh swiftly turning into a gasp when Jonah began nibbling at the pads of my fingers.
His face was alight with pure mischief seconds before he sucked a digit into his mouth. My eyes rolled back, lost in the sensation of his tongue as it swirled across the tip of my finger.
“You’re not playing fair,” I sniggered, trying to hide the breathlessness of my voice.
He gave a short shrug but continued feasting on my flesh. The movie continued to play on the television, it served as a distraction, but I was all too consumed with Jonah. When he released my finger with a pop, I wanted nothing more than to tease him back. I grazed my nails down his chest, making sure they raked across his cotton covered nipples. Jonah hissed and reared back a fraction.
Empowered by his sounds, I slipped my fingers underneath his shirt and danced them back up his ribs. The hum that tunneled through his torso made my fingers vibrate and another shiver wracked my body.
“You seem to get very cold around me,” Jonah pointed out, the sarcasm very clear.
“Then you’d better lie back down and keep me warm.”
“Cheesy,” he laughed, flopping onto his side and pulling my back close to his chest.
I lifted my arm and wrapped it around his neck, surprised when he cupped my breast.
“Just keeping it warm,” he rumbled against the side of my throat.
“I’m not sure where this cocky Jonah came from.
He certainly isn’t the one who blushed and rushed up the stairs when I said hi.”
He nipped my earlobe. “I was merely lulling you into a false sense of security. Now I have you exactly where I want you.”
“And that is?”
He pushed me onto my back again; his body looming over mine. “Underneath me.”
I melted, ready to sink into a slow, luxurious kiss when Jonah yelped. I frowned, looking around him to see Meow pawing at Jonah’s ass. I lifted Meow into my arms where he began purring loudly. Jonah petted his head, muttering in annoyance, which made me giggle more.
“He didn’t mean to hurt your tushy.”
“He made damn sure I took my hands off you.
Stupid cat.”
I kissed his cheek, calling him a baby as I rested my head on his shoulder. He grumbled but settled down, and we watched the last thirty minutes of the movie. I had no idea what was going on, so I allowed my mind to wander. I started to put together the bits and pieces I knew about the man beside me.
“What sort of artist are you?” I blurted out.
He stilled, probably startled by my rather random question, and it took a moment before he answered. “I write and illustrate graphic novels.”
“Oh, my God!” I squealed, jumping up so quickly Meow fell to the floor.
He looked around frantically, trying to work out the cause of my outburst. I slipped across the floor toward the bookshelf and pulled the novel from between two books.
“This!” I shouted excitedly.
I raced back over to him, taking in the awkwardness of his posture. He was tilting himself away from me, rubbing the back of his neck. He was actually blushing, just as he had so many times at the mailboxes.
“I bought this the morning I came to see you at Cellar. It called to me. Now I understand why. It’s yours, isn’t it? You do this!”
He shuffled on the couch, not reaching for it until I shoved it in his face.
“The guy at the store loved you. He said your pre-orders were already through the roof. I can’t believe this is you!”
I was bouncing with enthusiasm, whereas Jonah looked as though he could crawl under the coffee table. It was rather cute, enamoring me even more.
“Yeah,” he admitted, flipping the book over in his hands. “It’s me. I’m, um, kind of stunned that you frequent the stores that sell them.”
“I wasn’t. I had a tiff with J.J. on the street and strutted into the nearest store. That’s when I saw this. There was a huge cardboard cutout. It was a hooded figure like your tattoo.”
“Not a comic book geek then, Red?”
I sat down next to him, snorting as I shook my head.
“Damn! I bet you’d look hot with the glasses and pocket protector.”
I slipped a leg over his and straddled his hips. The ease in which we interacted was reassuring. I allowed him to set the pace, aware that going too fast could blow our progress to smithereens. I didn’t want that. Jonah Quinn took a new piece of my heart with every passing day.
I pressed my forehead to his, hiding us in a curtain of wavy red hair. “You know, I do wear glasses... ”
It came out as a sultry purr. I felt an instant shift in his sweats. Something was, without doubt, interested in my eye wear. When Jonah spoke it sent shockwaves through my body. It was guttural and oozed sex.
“What do I have to do to get you to wear them?
Only them?”
My pulse responded by beating double time. It was growing rather warm in the apartment. “Um... I... ”
Jonah chuckled at my stammering, loving the fact that he’d been the one that made me speechless after all the times I’d done the exact same thing to him. His fingers squeezed my hips, before burrowing under my T-shirt and gripping my bare sides. I fought the urge to rock against him, opting instead for a kiss. Our tongues met moments after our lips did, and we both exhaled in contentment. I stroked my hands up the back of his neck, pushing my fingers into his hair. He moaned then gently pulled away. I shifted my hands to his shoulders, staring down at him in uncertainty. His lips were slightly swollen; his cheeks tinged pink, and his blue eyes were fixed on mine.
We stared; only the sound of our breathing filling the silence. His fingers flexed where they held my waist. I could see a small tick on his jaw where he was gritting his teeth. I was about to climb off him, because he was fighting it. He was right to. Hadn’t I surmised earlier that we had to carve a new path? One that went backward before it could move forward?
“We shouldn’t,” his voice was merely a low rumble, but I still understood its implications. If I said we could, if I took the reins, he would buckle.
“I know,” I croaked out, shaking my head. “But it’s your fault! You asked me about my glasses in that tone.”
“I have a tone?”
Jonah was trying to act innocent even though he knew exactly what he had done. Struck by inspiration, I climbed off him and went to col ect a pad and pencil from
my desk. I placed it on the low coffee table and sat down on the floor, patting the space beside me. Jonah raised his brows in question and didn’t move.
“Teach me how to draw. One of those superhero thingies, and then I’ll show you just how hot I look in glasses, Mr. Quinn.”
“Promises, promises,” he tsked, sliding off the couch and getting comfortable on the floor next to me.
He moved the pad of paper and took hold of the pencil, preparing to draw what I hoped was the image that he had tattooed on his ribcage. I became mesmerized by the quick sweep of his hand across the paper. The sure strokes appeared haphazard at first but swiftly began to merge into a person before my eyes. He was so talented; it was no wonder that people were desperate for his next offering.
“Who taught you how to draw?” I realized before I’d completed my question that he may retreat back into himself, but I was very curious about him; his life.
“My mom was, is, an artist. Guess it’s in the blood or something.” His comment was offhand and blasé, yet I saw it for what it was. A step forward for us. He was giving me a little of himself.
I decided not to push it, and therefore asked nothing more. I was content studying how beautiful his hands were, how quickly he drew the character and how lost he became in his work.
“What about you? What do your parents do?” He didn’t look up as he asked the question, nor did he stop his sketching.
“Mom’s a teacher. Kindergarten. She adores it. I don’t think she’ll ever retire. She says the kids keep her young.” Jonah nodded as grief settled around me. “My dad died a couple of years ago.”
He placed his pencil down and took hold of my hand, easing my pain. “I’m sorry. Were you guys close?”
“We all were. I don’t have any siblings, so we were tight knit, know what I mean? I’ll always miss him.”
“We’re never meant to forget the ones we love,”
Jonah sighed wistfully.
He gave my hand a tight squeeze and returned to his drawing. “So, where is home, Miss Elle?”