Nate leaves the kitchen with slow steps. I know how bitterness can manifest itself in the least expected ways. If he’s upset, I need to know why. I follow him to the living room after I put the milk in the fridge. There’s ice cream in one of the bags but I don’t have the patience to look for it.
“This place is so small,” I hear him say as I enter the room. “No privacy.”
I stare at him for a while to consider his words. I know that I’m getting pissed at him and I don’t like it.
“What’s your problem?” I say.
He finally turns to look at me. “I should get a job,” he says. “Get a place of my own. A man should not live off his girlfriend.”
“It’s a temporary arrangement,” I say, more than a little annoyed by his sudden discontent.
“The way things are shaping up, it feels more and more permanent.”
Up to now it has never crossed my mind he might not actually want to live here. He’s never mentioned it before. His attitude bugs me not because I think it’s wise for us to be sharing a home already but because he invited himself over and moved in without even asking.
“Your parents want to help you,” I say. “I’m sure they’d help you get a job. Maybe you could work at one of your dad’s companies.”
His father owns a chain of restaurants and hotels from what I have gathered, but he also owns a sound stage or two that he rents out. He could get Nathan any position he’d desire.
“That will never happen,” he says firmly. It’s clearly not something open for discussion.
I can’t help but think of what Nora told me about how he wanted to start a life with me and how he was ready to accept help. What has changed? I have no way of knowing if he doesn’t tell me.
“Nate, what is really the problem here?”
“Don’t you see it? We live like we’re married.”
He spews the words out slowly like some snake venom that’s been biting his tongue. The more he talks, the less I understand.
“What’s your point?” I say, trying to come to terms with the idea that he might be getting bored playing house with me just like Tomas had warned.
“We should live a bit more dangerously,” he says. “Take more risks.”
“This is so all of the sudden, Nate,” I say, hurt and angry. “If you want to move out, go ahead and do it. Just let me know if you want to keep dating.”
I’ve gone too far, but I won’t back down. He should know his happiness means everything to me. Maybe I don’t tell him enough. The words I love you have not come out of my mouth yet, but it doesn’t feel right that the first time he hears me saying them should be during an argument. I don’t want him to think I’m using the words to manipulate him into staying.
Part of me always expects to end up alone. Love terrifies me ever since I lost everything in a split second. Does he feel the same fear? That he should have been in that car with his parents when they died? Because that thought never quite leaves my mind. Sometimes it stays quiet and sometimes it screeches at me. Why are you alive, Grace? Why did they leave you behind?
But he was much younger when tragedy hit, barely three years old, and he hadn’t yet developed a conscious knowledge of the bond with the people who were responsible for bringing him to life.
Yet, he is scarred beyond words from abuse and in war against himself. I’ve known all along that the road for us would be bumpy. I shake my head, blinking fast a few times, to clear my mind.
He’s staring at me intensely when I steal a glance at him. “Do you want me to move out?” he says.
Is he for real?
“You said that you wanted to move out,” I say louder than intended.
“I don’t know what I want,” he says, pulling me down to the floor.
We’re on our knees facing each other. He grabs my hair with one hand, bringing his face within an inch of mine. His breath smells of mint toothpaste and I want to taste his mouth to shut him up.
I kiss him. Our tongues meet instantly in our familiar sensual dance. His hand pulls my hair back while he kisses me. It’s a lot rougher than it has ever been, but he has not hurt me and I hunger the intensity of his kiss, wanting to feel how much he wants to be mine.
His tortured passion sets my body on fire. His tongue stays in my mouth until we’re both gasping for air. His hand won’t let go of my hair even when he starts kissing my neck.
“Your beauty destroys me,” he whispers. “You don’t even understand how much I am yours, how much I need to be with you.”
The things he says are so raw and powerful I never let myself quite believe them. I just let his words wreck my panties every time. My body accepts completely what my heart is reluctant to take for granted.
He lets go of me. We breathe heavily staring blankly at each other. “Take off your clothes,” he orders. “Quickly or I will tear them to shreds.”
My fingers find the hem of my shirt and pull it up and over my head. I stand up to unzip my jeans and pull them down. He watches me the whole time. There’s no hiding from him. His eyes are the most intrusive part of him.
“Go on,” he says as I hesitate for a moment.
I find the clasp of my bra, unsnap it. I bring my hands to the front to keep the bra in place for a few more seconds before I let it fall to my feet, revealing my breasts with their firm rosy tips just for him.
Next, I slide my already sticky panties off staring into his eyes. I love when his eyes are heavy and regard me as a completely sexual object. It makes me feel wild and animalistic in my blood.
I kneel down and put my arms around him.
“No,” he says, pulling my arms off. “Lie on your back.”
“On the floor?”
He nods fiercely. I immediately do as he says, lying on my Persian rug and waiting for his next move. I can feel a cool draft against my hot juices.
Nate throws his shirt aside before undoing his belt. His muscular chest and lean six pack make me flower wider. I need him inside urgently.
His eyes never leave me as he quickly undresses. He wraps his hand around his emerging erection and I want to invite him in so badly, but I know we’re in the middle of one of Nathan’s games and I won’t spoil it.
“Spread your legs wider,” he says.
Fuck. He wants a gymnast today. I oblige making myself available for him, completely open to his wishes. He slowly brings his body over mine putting his hands on my inner thighs to spread me even wider.
His hardness brushes against my moist folds making me moan with desire. I want him so bad my eyes roll back distorting my vision. Every cell in me wants to be destroyed by his selfish desires.
I can never get over how perfect his broad shoulders are, how cute his ass looks and feels, how many different defined muscles he has everywhere. Yet his body is nothing compared to those eyes which express such adoration when he takes in all of my curves and all of my soul, flaws and all.
His eyes have found my aching parts begging for his touch and he rests his tip in the juicy mouth of my heat. I fucking love when he does that. I grab his hips to pull him inside but he resists.
“Will you do as I tell you?” he asks.
“I’ll do anything you want,” I reassure him.
“Take my cock and rub it against your clit until you come.”
“Nathan,” I say with a smile as I take him in my hand. I stroke myself with his hardened tip, sliding it up and down the length of me, slowly at first, then faster, feeling the pleasure increase with every stroke.
He’s watching me with a predatory look on his face that sends me over the edge faster than anything could. I concentrate on my swollen nub, running circles on it with Nate’s cock. I want to be doing this endlessly until the end of time but then I feel the build and need of an orgasm slowly rising and then rushing like a river to break through the hot dam holding it back.
At the first moan, he grabs my legs and throws them over his shoulders. I squeeze him harder, afraid I might lose contact
with my thick toy, but he positions my legs perfectly against him so I can get an even better angle at what I’m doing.
He takes one nipple between two fingers twisting it softly while I fall into a wave of bottomless pleasure, thrashing my hips against his hardness and crying his name out loud.
“That’s it,” he says as I rest on the floor with a stupid smile on my face.
“That was awesome,” I say, pulling his face closer to kiss him. “I like using your exquisite body.”
He takes my hair in his hand, gently twisting and pulling it to the side of my face. “I’m going to be rough now,” he says. “If you don’t want me to, you better say so now. Once I start, I’m not going to stop.”
“Sure,” I say, wanting to make him feel the way he makes me feel. I know that he likes a little conflict in bed and I can’t lie. The shock and fear it causes make me hotter than I have ever been. My trust in him is absolute.
“All right,” he says. “On your hands and knees.”
I do as he says, feeling the hard floor under my knees and looking over my shoulder at him. He immediately grabs my hips, digging his nails in my skin, and spanks my ass with his hard cock.
“Your ass makes me a beast,” he says sending a chill through me.
He roughly slams deep into me, filling me up in one thrust. I gasp and want to stop him. I know it’s going to be hard and fast. I bite my lip instead.
He slaps my cheek so hard it hurts before he grabs my hair in a tight fist, pulling my head back. Everything I am bends to his will fearfully as he rams his cock rapidly into me without a shred of mercy.
He keeps going, faster and deeper until my knees get achy from the friction against the hard floor. I imagine his cock banging against organs and walls it should never be able to reach. He crosses the line. I continue to accept it even as the tugging at my hair gets sharper. The game has gone too far. I keep waiting for him to stop like he has done many times before when he realized I was uncomfortable.
This time he doesn’t stop, nor does it feel like he ever will. I could put an end to it myself but he warned me and I accepted the challenge.
I try to focus on the sensations of his slamming erection inside me but my mind wanders to the burning sensation of my knees and scalp. He yanks my hair back again until a guttural groan comes out of his throat as he reaches his barbaric orgasm. His movements slow down and then he freezes inside me, keeping my hips in place against him.
He lets go of my hair as his softening cock slides out and he falls on his back as if dead. I sit up quickly and spit on my burning knees to rub the saliva over the hot red marks and then, finally, take a look at him. He’s sweating profusely and his chest is rising and falling hard with every breath.
After a few seconds he reaches over and takes me in his arms. He hugs me tight and caresses my hair. “That was much more pleasurable for you,” I say, “but I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Thank you for enduring it,” he says. “I tried to finish quickly.”
“You’re not going to make a habit of that, right?”
He shakes his head. “Grace, it will never happen again.” He pushes back away from me to look intensely into my eyes. “It’s over now. It’s done.”
I get cozy against his chest even though new fears are building. This was the first time he took me without concern for my comfort. I worry that this is the prophecy of Tomas finally being realized.
Resentment.
Chapter 22
The world is spinning out of control. I have to stop and hold onto a wall of Leyland cypress trees, no doubt put in a line to create some sort of a privacy hedge. The path leads to the side door of the mansion and, thankfully, I can already spot it, only a few hundred feet away.
I walk the rest of the distance quickly, worried that if I stop I will get dizzy again. My stress levels are off the charts, causing all kinds of psychosomatic reactions in my body.
Nora opens the door herself, seconds after I knock. “Honey, I thought you sounded horrible on the phone but you look even worse. What happened?” she says, taking my hand.
“He’s gone,” I say breathlessly. “Nathan’s gone.”
“Gone? Where?” Her face turns pale despite the healthy amount of blush on her cheeks.
“I have no idea. I was hoping you might know.”
“Come on in,” she says, offering her arm for support.
She leads me to a small sitting room furnished and decorated with warm peach colors. “This is my second little haven,” she says as she urges me to take a seat. “Would you care for some tea? There’s jasmine and orange spice.”
I nod, grateful for the chance to get something warm in my belly. My insides feel cold, almost sick, and it’s been like that since yesterday.
“Jasmine,” I say.
Nora pours hot water from a teapot into a cup and hands me the teabag. I realize I’ve never seen a real porcelain tea set before and stroke the warm cup in my hand absentmindedly.
“Tell me what happened,” Nora says, taking her seat.
“I came home from work yesterday and he wasn’t there. I didn’t think much of it even though he tries to be there when I come home unless he’s at the shelter. But then I noticed his things were missing.”
Nora puts both hands on her cheeks. “Oh dear,” she says sadly.
“You said he’s vanished before,” I say.
“The first time when he was fourteen and many times since.” She stops to exhale. “Nathan vanishes when he can’t process his feelings,” she says. “When he feels the walls closing in. It’s out of love that he disappears. He’s afraid he will hurt the ones he loves if he stays.”
I shake my head. “No, I mean he acted strange but that, too, came out of the blue, it wasn’t the result of a fight or disagreement. I thought we moved past. I slept in his arms,” I say, feeling tears welling in my tired eyes.
“What do you mean when you say he was acting strange?”
I take in a deep breath. “He said some hurtful things about him being unemployed and having to depend on me. When I reminded him he could get help from his family to get started, he didn’t take it very well.”
“Maybe it’s something he needs to do himself,” she says.
“He left the saddest note,” I say, “wishing me luck.”
“Do you have it with you?”
I reach inside my jeans pocket to take out the sticky note he left on my laptop screen. “It’s not much,” I say.
“Let me see.”
She reaches over to a small coffee table to get her reading glasses. She puts them on and reads out loud.
Thanks for all the good but nothing lasts in my life. I wish you luck, Grace. I will always want what’s best for you.
“I thought he might have come here,” I say.
Nora takes off her glasses to look at me. “Well...”
She pauses and I know something’s up. “Nora, what?”
“He did show up last evening to collect his passport. I wasn’t here, Warren told me this morning. I thought you two were planning a trip.”
His passport? My heart sinks and the world collapses around me. “He’s leaving the country,” I say. “That’s how far away from me he wants to get.”
Nora puts an arm around me. “Grace, things are never that simple with Nathan. He’s a very troubled young man. I did try to warn you. Whatever it is that is driving him to do what he does is of a very complex nature.”
“I allowed myself to open up and trust again,” I say, almost as if speaking to myself. “I shouldn’t be telling you this. He’s your son, he should be your priority, not me.”
“Honey, you made him whole again and for that I will always be grateful, even if it’s not going to last. You will always be my priority. I’m here for you for whatever you need. I just hope he will realize what he’s giving up and come back to claim his life.”
“He’s lucky to have you,” I say. “Very few parents would be that understanding and patient.�
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“We just ride the waves, trying to avoid the wreckage floating our way.”
“I should go,” I say. “I don’t like driving in the dark.”
“It won’t be dark for another two hours,” she says. “Why don’t you wait until Warren gets home? He might have some insight to offer since he was the last one to see Nathan.”
“No, I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day. Will you call me if he has anything of importance to say?”
“Of course,” she says, getting up to accompany me to the door. “Do you want me to walk you to your car?”
“No, I will be fine.”
It’s hard to keep the tears in check when she takes my hands in hers and kisses my cheek. “I’m here for you,” she says. “Whatever you need.”
My steps feel hollow and weightless, as if I’m sliding on a huge hillside of melting ice with nothing to hold on to. I’m mad at the quiet streets I drive through, mad at the solemn palm trees and the surrounding hills.
A few blocks from home, I change my course and drive to the rescue shelter instead. I walk past Luke who’s bandaging a hurt paw, past the indefatigable Denise and the two new girls volunteering tonight putting up a plastic Christmas tree, all the way to Annie’s night cage.
Our dog fair at the park is only days away when the hearts of people are most empathetic just a couple weeks before Christmas. Nate and I worked really hard to prepare the descriptions for the leaflets and then print them out on colorful paper so that Annie and the rest of the wonderful, cheerful, rescue animals can find a home.
Annie wags her tail like crazy when she sees me. She makes tiny whimpering sounds begging to be petted. I open her cage and take her in my arms. “I’m happy to see you, too,” I tell her.
She tries to lick my face and I pull back, pretending to be grossed out. “Yikes, Annie, you are bit sloppy with your kisses.”
Nothing can stop Annie from getting what she wants. She attacks me merrily again and again, quietly complaining, until she can get her way.
Beautiful Ruin Page 17