My insecurities resurface as I lie on my back, totally exposed and vulnerable to his needs, legs wrapped around his hips, thinking he’s too much man for me. He starts kissing my face as he pulls out a bit and pushes back inside with more force. Fuck. He’s growing. Bigger.
“Lord, you feel so good,” he says with dreamy eyes. “It’s tight. Fuck, you’re really tight. So warm and wet. I could stay inside you forever.”
His excitement helps me relax again and the fear subsides. His muscular body is stretched out over mine conquering and protecting me at the same time. His mouth brushes over my neck and nipples as he thrusts in and out of me in perfect rhythm, creating sensations I never thought possible.
I glance down and see his hard shaft glistening with my juices. I start to lose control again. I grab his ass and arch my back to drive him deeper inside me. With every throbbing thrust, I move a little farther away from my unfortunate past.
My body adjusts to his size until he’s found a smooth rhythm. He becomes my body’s champion. My pleasure builds in unison with his pleasure.
“Harder,” I tell him as I feel a pleasing intensity welling up like a volcano inside me. He pounds deep inside against something new, something untouched. And now the man who always seems to be in charge loses control altogether. He’s slamming into me with a wild ferocity I have never known before, taking absolute possession of me. The unflattering sucking sound of my juices attacked by his size and speed reaches a raw, maddening level until I am nothing but a throbbing, pulsating mess of a woman.
“Nate,” I try to say but only a high-pitched moan comes out. And then a series of the strange feminine moans begin as the whole bed quakes at the violent pace of his hungry thrusts.
I dig my nails into his back, pulling him closer, his sweat dripping over me and melting into mine. I try harder and louder to scream out his name as a huge wave of orgasm takes hold of me when he comes to a sudden halt right before the ultimate climax.
“Nate?” I whimper, still rocking my hips back and forth around his huge erection, totally unable to stop the momentum. “What’s going on?”
“It’s not Nate,” he says as he starts plunging into me again. “Call me Nathan.”
I’m confused but then he reaches down to play with my clit as he keeps pushing himself inside me and I’m back to happy town. In my haziness of uncontrolled pleasure coursing through my body, I open my mouth to offer him what he wants to hear so badly, “Nathan.”
This simple word triggers his own undoing. His body spasms and shudders as his hot sperm fills me up and beastly grunts escape his lips.
He falls on top of me heavily, breathlessly kissing the place where my neck meets my shoulder, his heart pounding fast against mine.
Chapter 14
Thanksgiving morning my eyes open and I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. Nate’s asleep in my bed, his handsome face resting on my pillow, his powerful body splayed out on the covers. I’m squeezed against the wall on my side with barely any room to move but I don’t care.
I watch him sleep peacefully, his chest rising and falling with every slow breath he takes, my fingers tracing his jaw line. We’ll need a bigger bed if we are to continue sleeping together but those are just words.
This moment is so real. His body heat next to me is real.
It’s been a while since I felt like I belong in my own body. For some time now I’ve been living life from the margins of my own life, looking in cautiously and wondering whether I should re-enter or not.
No matter what happens now at least I’m ready to take charge again, jump into a bright future with both feet without looking back. I wasn’t joking when I told Taylor I plan to return to college and get my degree.
Nate moans in his sleep and stretches his body turning slightly. I could watch him sleep for hours but then I want to do more than watch. I reach down to touch his morning erection and just like that he is awake.
“Hey” he says, rubbing his left eye.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” I say and immediately realize my hand’s resting on his morning wood.
I pull my hand away fast as if struck by lightning. He grabs my hand giving me a teasing smile. “No,” he says. “Leave it there.”
I blush a little as I begin to stroke him, admiring the hardness and smoothness of his manhood.
“Hmm, I could get used to that,” he says arching his brows.
“As if,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“As if what?”
“As if you haven’t had plenty of volunteers.”
“I don’t want volunteers,” he says, laughing. “I want you.”
“Well, I could get used to hearing that.”
I feel him throb and harden more under my pampering touch and I love the power he’s giving me.
“That thing you said about the volunteers,” he says breathless, employing an innocent expression. “Does it mean you think I’m hot?”
“Trust me, Nate. The whole world thinks you’re hot.”
“Call me Nathan, baby. It’s a simple request,” he says putting his hand over mine. “There,” he says, directing my fingers right underneath the head of his cock. I rub where he tells me, his hand pressing on mine and moving it up and down along his shaft.
I spoil him until his eyes roll back and his breathing increases. I kiss his lips while my hand increases the speed and pressure on him, until I hear him gasp and can feel his cock shudder and tremble.
He suddenly comes, exploding up onto his chest and stomach. My breasts catch a little of his hot load. I think we are equally surprised how quick his body reacted to my touch.
“That was fast,” I say. “Did it feel good?”
“You’re not the only one with a magic button,” he says with a grin, his body still tensing and quivering with aftershocks. He puts his arms around me and presses my body against his, his sticky semen gluing us together. “You’re so beautiful, Grace,” he says.
I’ve never thought of myself as beautiful, maybe a wee bit pretty, but I’m not so stupid as to wreck the moment by protesting.
“Why don’t you want me to call you Nate?” I ask. “Isn’t that how you introduce yourself to everyone?”
“You can call me whatever you like,” he says. “Just not when we’re intimate.”
“Why?” I insist.
I get the feeling that my questions bother him. He looks at me for a while before he finally says, “So many women have screamed out my name in pleasure. I want it to be different with us. No reminders of previous lives.”
“Oh, you arrogant jerk,” I say, pinching his arm. Well, barely. His muscles are as hard as tree trunks. I’m certain there’s more to his story but I decide just to let it go.
My phone starts ringing, breaking the intensity of the moment. “Fuck, it’s Taylor,” I say as I check the screen. “What time is it?”
“No idea,” he says, getting out of bed. “I’ll grab a shower.”
The phone stops ringing and I calm down enough to check the time. “Oh, shit, it’s almost noon,” I say. “I’m the worst friend ever.”
“Are you going?” he says, leaning against the door frame.
“What do you think?”
He shrugs, then raises his eyebrows. “Surprise me with your decision,” he says before he disappears.
I take in a few deep breaths before I call Taylor back.
“Okay, let’s hear it,” she says as soon as she picks up the phone.
“I’m home. I just woke up. I won’t be able to make it today.”
“Grace, today’s Thanksgiving. Everyone’s expecting you.”
“I’m sorry, Tay. I won’t be able to make it.”
“I don’t understand. Are you going to your aunt’s place after all?”
“I’ll tell you all about it when...” I don’t get to finish my sentence. I’m cut short by Nate spreading my legs open forcefully.
A second later, his tongue is inside me. I gasp and squirm, twisting my lower body
to get him out of there. He’s soaking wet from what must have been the shortest shower in history.
“When? Grace, are you there?” I hear Taylor’s voice in my ear like a distant echo. My inner walls start to contract as Nate’s tongue teases my aching lips and clit. What the hell is he doing?
I cover the phone with my palm. “Stop it,” I whisper. He either can’t hear me or doesn’t care because instead of stopping, he intensifies his efforts, twisting his tongue inside of me, slowly moving it in and out. His thumb finds my clit and flicks it deliciously, arousing every fiber of my being.
I have a choice to make – I can either kick him away or give in to his game. It’s unfortunate that my best friend has to be on the phone while I’m trying to make this sort of decision.
“Grace? What the hell?” she says.
My thoughts exactly, Taylor. “I’m here,” I say breathlessly. “Lilly’s here.”
“Lilly?”
“The cat. My neighbor’s cat.” I’m lying through my teeth trying not to gasp or moan into the phone.
“What’s going on?”
I’m tempted to tell her that what’s going on is that Nate’s fucking me with his tongue but that would be too vulgar coming from my lips and I doubt she’d believe me anyway. “Will you give me a second?” I say finally.
I don’t wait for an answer. I throw the phone to the side and bite hard into the pillow as I grab Nate’s hair and arch my lower back to get his tongue further inside. Time passes in a series of dizzy breaths and surging heartbeats until I come so hard and fast my mind goes blank as I drown my moaning into the pillow. At least I hope I’ve drowned out the sounds of my lengthy orgasm.
The infuriating man rises once he’s finished. His lips move to form some words, “Something to be thankful for.” He mouths the words more than whispers them but I’m still terrified Taylor might have heard him.
I watch him take a towel from the closet, wrapping it around his waist before he walks out.
I put the phone back to my ear.
“I’m sorry, Taylor, the little cat was hungry.” No pun intended, I tell myself, barely able to believe the things that are happening to me.
“Are you out of breath?” Taylor says.
Abso-fucking-lutely!
“Uh, feeling a little flushed today,” I say.
“Must have come down with something,” she says sweetly.
“Yes,” I say as I see Nate peek into the room. “I came down with something last night, slept all morning.”
He laughs and disappears again.
“You poor girl,” she says. “Too bad. You were going to be my ally against my crazy family.”
“They’re not that bad,” I say.
“Easy to say from there,” Taylor says. “You going to be okay?”
“Yes, more than okay. Now go have some fun.”
“Fun. Right,” she says. “Talk to you soon.”
I climb out of bed and get my bathrobe on to check on what Nate’s up to before I take my shower. I find him in the kitchen, pans and mixing bowls all around him on the counters, piling cooking ingredients onto the table. He’s stark naked, his wet hair pulled back, tensing the muscles in his butt and thighs as he squats to get more baking dishes out of the bottom cupboards.
“You’re a jerk, you know that?” I hiss at him. “And an asshole and...”
“How about fuckwad?” he says with a chuckle.
“Yes, thank you,” I say, more serious than he thinks. “You’re the biggest fuckwad in history.”
“Cool,” he says proudly. “I’ve always aspired greatness.”
“You’re intolerable,” I say.
“Intolerable? That insult might have skipped a generation, Grace,” he says. “Or a century.”
“Excuse me for reading,” I say. “And you’re in the penalty box for that phone stunt.”
He makes a puppy dog face. “What’s the penalty?”
“You have to keep your hands and your fingers and your tongue to yourself for like thirty, maybe thirty-five minutes.”
He grins. “That’s not cool,” he pleads and walks to me naked. “So what about this?” He takes my hand and place it on his half-hard cock.
“Nathan,” I whisper and he stiffens.
“Say some more of those old timey words.”
I can feel my face warming with a blush. “You’re incorrigible,” I say in a vaguely 1920s cadence.
“Fuck,” he says, turned on.
“Your vocabulary could use some work,” I say, laughing up to his eyes. I release his growing appendage and slap it hard to the side. “No sugar for you.”
“Fine,” he says. “But there’s only thirty-two minutes left of penalty time.”
“Don’t press your luck,” I say. I grab the thin cushion from a kitchen chair and throw it at him. “And put on some underwear at least.”
“You’re no fun,” he says.
“And you’re too much fun.”
“Okay, I’ll chill,” he says. “What’s the verdict? Are you going or staying?”
“I should go after that little trick you played on me.”
“But you’ll stay, won’t you?” he finishes my sentence.
I nod.
“Because you’re hoping for more of the same.”
I can’t even pretend to be mad. “Because I don’t want you to be alone for Thanksgiving,” I tell him simply.
“We finally agree on something. Now sit, I’ve made breakfast.”
“Breakfast at noon,” I say as he starts to clean up the table, moving the food to the counters. “What’s all this anyway?”
“I did a little grocery shopping myself,” he says. “Take that ugly thing off,” he says pointing at my pink bathrobe.
“Excuse me?”
“Take it off or I will,” he says, pointing his fork at me this time.
“No,” I say stubbornly. “I’m not going to have breakfast in the nude.”
“Why not?”
“It’s gross.”
“Don’t be ashamed of your body,” he says. “Lilly walks around naked all the time.”
“She’s a cat.”
“And she’s proud of it,” he says as if he’s won an argument.
“It’s really strange,” I say.
“I’m naked,” he says.
“I rest my case.”
“Mean girl,” he says teasingly. He lunges and pulls at my bathrobe. I grab the collar and fight hard to keep the robe in place but he wins easily.
“I haven’t even showered yet,” I say angrily, covering up my breasts and belly with my arms and hands.
“This is how I like you. Shy, flustered and covered in sex and sweat.”
“I reference my earlier comment,” I say. “It’s gross!”
“You couldn’t be gross if you tried,” he says.
I drop my arms and he looks at me like prized cattle. “Are you happy?” I say exasperated.
“Yes,” he says quietly. “Incredibly so.”
*
Later, after we eat and make love throughout the afternoon, I finally take my shower. I wash everything away and make myself clean. I imagine myself a brand new soul emerging from the shower and starting over in the world.
The light slowly leaves the sky outside the windows and I dress in simple white bootie shorts and a thin white tank top. I want to be an angel for him.
When I show up in the living room, he’s dressed and groomed and looking hot as hell. He takes me by the hand and has me sit on the loveseat where he has set a tray with dried fruit, nuts and chocolate candy.
“This is for you,” he says, taking a small box wrapped in red paper from under the coffee table.
“For me?” I ask in disbelief.
“Open it,” he says tenderly.
I unwrap the box overwhelmed by curiosity and excitement. I take out a small glass music box with ballerinas, stars and moons and my name, GRACE, painted on it. Through the glass I can see the delicate mechanism i
nside with its wheels, springs and cylinders.
“I changed the music pattern for you,” he explains as he takes it from my hands and winds it.
When the music starts playing, I’m stunned to hear a familiar tune.
“How did you make that happen?” I say listening to Arabic Jazz.
“A friend of mine,” he says.
He takes me in his arms. “Happy Thanksgiving, Grace,” he says, planting a kiss on my forehead. “I’ve never been more thankful in my life.”
I try to swallow down the knot that’s been forming in my throat.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Nathan,” I say, totally astounded at how sweet and thankful and emotional he makes me feel.
Chapter 15
Stopping for donuts, cinnamon rolls and croissants has me running a little late to the aroma shop. It could be my guilty conscience taking over or maybe I’m just happy and want to share the feeling with Taylor and even Ashley.
Of course, Taylor will probably scrunch up her nose at all the sugar and white flour and tell me I’m being irresponsible and have mixed up priorities. Whatever. She’ll give in eventually and enjoy the sugar rush.
None of that happens though. When I enter the store, I find Taylor talking to Ashley over coffee looking tired and maybe even a little sick. She barely registers the big box in my hands and even as I set it on the counter in front of her, she doesn’t notice.
“Where have you been all weekend?” she says without much conviction.
I drag her to the small office in the back and shut the door.
“Are you sick? You don’t look well,” I say.
“What? No. I haven’t slept much is all, dealing with Eileen’s drama.”
“Still going on?”
“You have no idea. There’s more or, more accurately, less. Let’s not mention her again. Please.”
I zip the imaginary zipper on my lips.
“Where have you been?” Taylor demands. “I called on Saturday and then again yesterday. Nada from you in return.”
“I was making up for lost time.”
“What lost time?” Taylor bends her face curiously.
I smile. “Sex time. I was having sex.”
She shakes her head side-to-side like a cartoon character. “What!?! You were having sex for four fucking days?” Her eyes grow larger, I swear.
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