Forever Your Heart

by Mary Whitney

  “I see I’ve got some competition,” Dan said.

  “No competition at all, mate,” I replied, leaving him to wonder what I meant.

  Nicki chuckled awkwardly and thanked him for the dance. Despite her reluctance, she still took my hand as the DJ switched to Frank Sinatra. She smiled for whoever might be watching us, but to me, her words were harsh. “What are you doing?”

  “Dancing with you.”

  “Adam…”

  “If you can dance with that arsehole in front of everyone, you can dance with me.”

  She settled down a bit, though still said, “But it means something when I dance with you.”

  I looked over at our table, and many of its members were staring at us, including Dan. “They can’t tell,” I reported back.

  “But I can.”

  “I can, too.” Drilling my eyes right back at hers, I said, “So old Juan Carlos has bought you a ring. We haven’t talked about that yet.”

  “No, we haven’t. Apparently he’s purchased it, but it’s true that he hasn’t proposed. He’s waiting until I get back.”

  “And does he have reason to believe you’ll say yes?” I realized that I sounded a touch too demanding, so I joked, “Or si in this instance?”

  “Don’t be silly.” She shook her head. “I had no knowledge he was doing this. It’s some weird last-ditch, grandiose gesture to get us back on track.”

  “Latin tosser.”

  “Huh?” She looked at me quizzically. “Is that some British cricket term? What does this have to do with sports anyway?”

  “Never mind.” I laughed to myself because Nicki still didn’t understand my language. “Start at the beginning, then. What’s been going on with you?”

  She was so quiet for a moment that I thought she might not talk, but she soon looked at me sadly. “Well, when you stormed out on me last Sunday night, I was angry. I’d been trying really hard to do the right thing and be fair to everyone—to you, to Juan Carlos, to my job—and you gave me no credit for it. I wasn’t happy, though after thinking things through, I have to say you made some valid points.”

  “I suppose you’re right. You’ve been quite fair in what is a very hard situation.” Then I tried to lighten her mood by squeezing her waist and saying, “Except for when you haven’t been able to control yourself around me. That’s been a little unfair. You’ve been drinking tonight. I hope you can keep your hands to yourself.”

  “You’re horrible,” she said, fighting a smile.

  “Only because I adore you.”

  “And I you.”

  “So you’ll get rid of JC?”

  “I can’t just ‘get rid’ of him, Adam. This is a little more delicate than that.”

  “Shit, Nicki, when are you going to make a choice?”

  She was defiant. “I’ve made my choice. It’s you. Don’t you see that?”

  “Then when are you going to act on it, damn it?”

  “Act on it? I am! I’m trying to do things in order. It’s not like—”

  “It’s not that difficult. Don’t you see that I’ll do whatever it takes to make things work between us? Hell, I’ve already broken up with Felicity.” Technically, that was true.

  “I don’t think your situation with Lady Fucking Felicity is the same.”

  “Oh, really? Given the row we had when I ended things, she might disagree.” Technically, that wasn’t true, but I didn’t care because I somehow needed to get through to Nicki.

  She was in a huff when the Sinatra song ended. “We should go back to the table. This isn’t a good place to talk. Let’s do it when we’re back in DC.”

  I didn’t want her to run away angry. I gripped her tightly as the DJ switched genres again, now to R&B. Leaning in, I whispered, “Don’t go. I’m sorry. One more song.”

  She glanced around us. Was she looking for another dance partner to save her? Dan was back at the table. Like she was stuck with me, she took a step closer. I tried to be encouraging. “I promise not to complain.”

  “Oh, all right. There are worse things than dancing with you.”

  “Like what?”

  “Dancing with Dan Roark.”

  “I swear, I hate that wanker. I don’t like seeing him with you.”

  “You say I don’t listen to you. Do you listen to me? There’s no way I’d ever be with that guy—or any other guy, for that matter.”

  “Well, maybe we should both listen and not talk,” I said, caressing her hand in mine.

  “Okay.”

  I tried to be aware of people watching us, but in the end, I didn’t care. She was in my arms once again. That’s what mattered in life. As the soulful music droned on, I inched closer to her, and she did the same to me. It wasn’t long before her thighs were brushing against me while her head rested on my chest.

  Then, like she’d been electrocuted, she jolted away. “We can’t do this here,” she whispered. “We have to stop.”

  “It’s okay, Nicki.”

  I didn’t even believe myself after I’d said it, and Nicki gave me a look like I was mad.

  “No, it’s not,” she insisted as she released my hand. “Let’s talk tomorrow…when we’re back in DC.”

  Heading straight back to the table, I saw Dan leading the group in a round of shots. “That was a long dance,” he said, peering up at me over his shot glass.

  I tried shrugging it off, but Nicki took care of things. She took a seat beside him. “I’ll have a shot, Dan.”

  “Great,” he said, as if she’d chosen him over me. “Here you go.”

  “No need to pour one for me.” I placed some Turkish lira on the table. “I’m heading out.”

  Dan’s brow furrowed, but I ignored him, saying goodbye to Nicki just like I did to every other woman at the table.

  When I got back to my room, I was still wound up, so I had a shower and enjoyed a satisfying wank. A little more relaxed, I flopped on the bed naked and spent the next hour watching football. I’d texted Nicki to call me when she got back to her room, but my phone never rang.

  Long after midnight, I was about to turn off the light when there was a knock from outside my room. I pulled on a pair of boxer shorts so that I was somewhat dressed. As I got near the door, I asked, “Who is it?”

  No one answered.

  I cracked the door ajar, then threw it wide open when I saw Nicki staring at me. Without speaking, she walked straight into my room.

  As soon as she was inside, I shut the door and chuckled. “Well, good evening. This is a nice surprise.”

  When she didn’t immediately respond, I asked, “What’s all this about?”

  She remained quiet, and then I figured it out. I knew the look in her eye, though I hadn’t really seen it since high school. Nicki was drunk and horny. Her words and accompanying pungent breath confirmed it. “What did you say earlier? Why wasn’t I acting on it? You said something like that, I think.”

  “I did.”

  “Well, I’m here to act on it.”

  With that, she stepped forward, and in a series of swift motions, she was most definitely acting on it. As our lips met, her tongue touched mine, and she simultaneously palmed my dick. I exhaled at once.

  “Fuck…”

  “Yes,” she hissed.

  We both abandoned any thoughts of going about our relationship in an orderly manner. The only thing Nicki seemed concerned about was how quickly she could get her hand inside my trousers. As I kissed her with all my love and lust, she slipped her fingers inside the flap. They were cool against my dick, but I still got hard.

  My body raced ahead of my mind, maybe in fear that if I thought about the situation I might have an untimely bout of English gentlemanliness and stop her from drunkenly throwing herself at me. Instead, my hands were on her shoulders, and I gripped her tightly as my erection grew under her touch. When she tickled me around my foreskin, I grunted and groaned like the undersexed sod I was. Despite the fact I’d just jerked off, I hadn’t been with a woma
n in forever. Now I was with one, and it wasn’t just any girl—it was Nicki. If I didn’t watch it, I’d blow my load within minutes.

  “Let’s go to your bed,” she slurred.

  “Gladly.”

  Leading her across the room, a thrill ran through me thinking about fucking Nicki once again. I turned toward her once we approached the bed, but she pushed me onto it. I landed with a laugh. “Assertive, aren’t we?”

  “A little,” she said as she smiled and kicked off her heels.

  Propped on my elbows, I lay on my back and watched her perform an impromptu strip show. Off came the blue trousers and knee-high stockings. And peeking out from the tails of her conservative white shirt was a black, lacy thong.

  I stared at her crotch until, moving toward me, Nicki reached down and tugged my boxers down my legs. She first stared at my bobbing stiffy, then briefly kissed and licked it before removing her knickers and placing her knees astride my legs. I grinned up at the sight of her straddling me. Taking my dick in my hand, I rubbed the tip right against her, making her moan. With her long hair hanging down her arched back, she looked like a study in ecstasy.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” I said.

  A smile overtook her lips, full of warmth and lust. She wrapped her hand around mine so that we were both playing with each other’s bodies. “Do you like watching me do this?” she asked a little cheekily.

  “Fuck, yes.”

  “I love the feel of you against my pussy.”

  My mouth dropped open in disbelief. There was no doubt I was in the moment. I’d fantasized about banging her for years and years, and lately, I’d been wanking off wondering what it would be like when we were together again. But I never expected my old sweetheart, Nicki, to talk dirty. Was it the alcohol? Or was this the way she was now?

  Whatever the answer, she continued rubbing herself on my dick. My hands reached down to her bum for leverage. Then a naughty, wasted Nicki mumbled, “I want to feel you inside of me. Now.”

  “Uh…” My cock heard her just as much as my ears did, but I questioned myself for a moment. This is not how I imagined being with Nicki for the first time…

  My body didn’t care, though, and Nicki appeared not to either. I did remember aloud that a condom might be a good idea, but Nicki dismissed it, saying she was on the pill.

  I wanted to take off her shirt, but Nicki lifted the front tails so she could see as we maneuvered my dick beneath her. My eyes widened when the head of my penis first felt her wet warmth, and they instantly closed when she quickly lowered herself onto me. I was quite certain nothing would ever feel that good again unless it was with her.

  Hearing her sigh, I raised my eyelids to see her giving me a small smile as I thrust my hips to hers. She simply declared, “At last.”

  “At last.”

  My main goal was to outlast my first time with her over sixteen years before. If I hadn’t wanked earlier, I might not have done it. My second goal was to make sure Nicki came early and often. That wasn’t too hard when she’d already taken control of things by being on top. I just provided the dick and played with her clit a bit.

  When my goals were accomplished, I felt like I was the king of the world. Everything about being with Nicki was the same, only better. I hugged her closely, both to calm down and to make sure she knew I never wanted her to leave.

  “I love you, Nicki,” I said, pressing my nose into her hair.

  “I love you.”

  She raised her head to smile, and I gave her a little kiss—only, my drunk Nicki took it the wrong way. Plunging her tongue into my mouth, she was ready to go again. Unfortunately, I needed a moment, so I bought some time by slowly unbuttoning her shirt. Underneath was a lacy bra that I popped off in short order. There were Nicki’s pretty little tits, all for me again.

  I went to work on her beauties—which she seemed to enjoy. Wanting to make it even better for her, I slowly started to move my head southward, thinking she might like a lick. When I reached her torso, though, I found her scars. They were still there—much lighter in color and with a slightly withered texture. Instinctively, I did just as I always had—I kissed them all, wishing they would go away so they couldn’t hurt her anymore.

  As I brushed her with kisses, I heard her whimper in what I thought was pleasure. When she continued to make noise, however, I realized she wasn’t enjoying it at all. She was crying.

  Blimey. What did I do wrong?

  Raising my head, I saw Nicki’s face showing an expression of devastated disbelief. She sobbed as she spoke. “I missed you…I missed you so much. For years, I missed you.”

  The time had come, and she needed to hear me loud and clear. I moved up so I could look her in the eyes when I gave her my pledge. With my hand on her cheek, I said, “Nicki, I will never leave you again. Never. But you have to stay with me. Okay?”

  I held my breath, waiting for an answer. What if she said no again?

  But she didn’t fail me. Not this time. Her tears weren’t finished, but she smiled. “I’ll stay with you…always.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  THE EARLY MORNING LIGHT woke me up before my alarm. Blinking a few times, I soon remembered what had happened with Nicki the night before. Instantly, I looked right, expecting her to be there. She wasn’t.

  I racked my brain for a moment, reconfirming that it hadn’t been a dream. I remembered it all. She had, indeed, come to my room in the night; we had fucked like the horny teenagers we once were, and she had ended up crying in my arms as we pledged ourselves to one another. We were together again. Yet, despite my vivid recollections, there was no Nicki.

  Sitting up in the bed, I examined the pillow next to me. There was the evidence of my memories—a slight indentation in the pillow from her head and a couple of strands of curly brown hair. Then I noticed the piece of hotel stationary sitting on the bedside table. It was a short note.

  Adam,

  I’m sorry I have to leave early.

  I’ll talk to you after I get everything lined up on my end.

  I love you,

  Nicki

  I lay back on my pillow. Huh. “Lined up on my end?” What does she mean? I remembered further back into our evening and how we’d danced together in front of everyone. Knowing Nicki, she was probably out doing damage control with our colleagues.

  Then I thought again about how we’d had sex—we’d crossed a line. She needed to fix it.

  I bet she’s going to tell the president about us.

  After a morning press event in front of the Blue Mosque, we were scheduled to fly back to the States. As I flashed my credentials to security in order to get behind the ropes for the event, I saw Ned Dupree, a reporter for The Washington Post, standing near Lydia Mixon. Upon seeing me, he casually elbowed Lydia. First, she looked at him and then toward me. She gave me a little grin, but I knew better than to think it was a friendly gesture—it was calculating. I was under surveillance by my peers. They couldn’t know the whole story about Nicki and me, but they knew something was amiss. I returned the smile as if nothing were wrong.

  The rest of the morning confirmed my suspicions. Until we could be out in the open, I knew how Nicki was going to act. She ignored me assiduously, but her disregard didn’t stop the stares and whispers.

  In true arsehole form, Dan actually spoke to me directly about the gossip. “So, you got close to Nicki last night. That dance has caused a lot of talk.”

  I shrugged. “I think I left when you two started doing shots.”

  “Yeah, right,” he said, sounding even more of an arsehole than usual.

  Until I talked with Nicki again, further conversation about the night was a bad idea, so I walked away. The bastard didn’t deserve more information anyway.

  Before I boarded Air Force One for the flight back to DC, I checked on Dad one last time. He was always napping when I called, which was very frustrating—and it happened again. Mum assured me that Dad was okay, even if he had been sleeping more since I�
�d left. For a moment, I wondered if I should go back to Cambridge instead of to DC. I cringed at the thought, though, because I needed to talk to Nicki again. We’d set a lot in motion the night before, and she was already acting on it. I needed to do the same.

  Still, I suggested to Mum that I skip the trip to DC and head straight back home. “I could be there when he’s awake and help round the house.”

  “Adam, there’s not much to be done at this point,” she said.

  “But—”

  “I promise I will call you when I think you should come home.” I ended the conversation with a feeling that I’d be getting that call sooner rather than later, so I boarded the plane. Protected from intrusion by my Bose headphones, I sat through the flight lost in thought, pretending to read or work. I told myself I was doing just as my father had wanted—getting on with my life.

  So I made plans. I would resign the next day. I could plan on how I would do it, but I couldn’t account for exactly what I would say. I needed to talk to Nicki before I did that.

  Unfortunately, Nicki kept ignoring me. A public conversation between us would be unreasonable for me to expect. Yet when we got off the plane, I caught her eye as I held my phone, signaling that I would text her. She glared at me so hard that I stopped at once. I’d forgotten she didn’t like texting me anymore. I glared back at her, Well, then how the fuck am I supposed to talk with you?

  Then out of nowhere, her boss strode past me. He smiled in a most knowing way. “Evening, Adam.”

  “Good evening, Matthew. I bet you’re glad to be home.”

  “Yes, I am.” His voice lowered and he almost sniggered. “I’m sure you are, too.”

  He didn’t wait for my response as he walked on. I glanced again at Nicki, who turned away. That was when I knew: she’d told her boss and she’d told the president.

  With that information, I became incredibly impatient as I waited for her phone call. Back at my flat, I tried to keep busy. I sorted clothes and packed a bag of laundry to take to the cleaners. Then I ate dinner, watched TV, worked, played around on the computer—and kept checking my phone. No sign from her. Why hasn’t she called me? Where is she?