Chapter 40
40
Natalia
present
It takes about seven deep breaths and clenching and unclenching my fists multiple times before I’m able to walk through the restaurant doors. Tears threaten to fall, but I rein them in, trying to erase my conversation with Hayden from my mind.
As soon as I walk in, before the hostess is able to greet me, Shawn looks up and waves with a buoyant smile from the table, looking the complete opposite of what I’m feeling right now. I weave between the tables, walking my way toward Shawn as he stands to greet me. We do a half hug, him leaning into me with one hand pressed to my back, before we both take our seats.
“I was worried you were going to blow me off,” he says.
While he’s joking, there’s concern written on his face as he reads my expression. With my brow furrowed and a light frown that I can’t seem to turn up, I don’t blame him. And instead of contradicting him by laughing at his joke, I look up at him with sad eyes.
“Is everything okay?”
I don’t answer. Instead, I tilt my head to the side. Just enough for my answer to be confusing. Not a yes, not a no. Shawn clears his throat, his smile faltering and eyes softening as he sees me on the brink of tears.
“Uh, did you…I mean, we don’t have to do this.”
When the first tear falls, my hand moves quickly to wipe it. I laugh, baffled that I’m crying on my first first date in years. “I’m so sorry,” I say between my watered-down chuckles.
He smiles, his kind eyes void of judgment. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head and smile. “No, I’m okay.”
He nods, and his eyes scan the table as he splays his hands on the white tablecloth. I don’t look up at him. Instead, I fix my gaze on the pronged edges of the fork sitting at my right. My breathing starts to come out in staggered sighs, and he clears his throat.
“Natalia,” he says softly. I finally look up. “We can do this another time. Or never.”
I smile, the tears pooling along the edges of my eyes again.
“I would hate for the chef to think that the pasta here’s so bad it made you cry.”
A fresh wave of tears causes my throat to clog just as a weak huff of laughter slips through my lips. How easy would it be if this could be something? How simple would it be if we could get through this date, have dinner with a couple of good-natured laughs sprinkled in between and a long good night kiss? But that’s not what this is .
I smile, the inner corners of my brows turning up with everything from appreciation to apology because Shawn doesn’t deserve any of this.
“I’m so sorry,” I say again.
“It’s fine,” he whispers, reaching for my hand. And I leave before I start crying into the still-warm bread.
I’m leaning up against the door with my hands gripping the wooden doorframe. I didn’t go home like I should have. Instead, I spent the last hour trying to hail a cab and crossing the bridge to Hayden’s apartment. All while boiling over my feelings for him.
Luckily, when I arrived at his apartment building, the door swung open as someone was leaving, allowing me swift access inside. I don’t even know what I’m going to say to him, why I came here. But I know that I can’t just go home. Not when the pent-up anger in my chest keeps telling me to confront Hayden and demand answers.
He was the one who broke our kiss. He was the one who pulled away, making me wonder if he regretted it, if he wished it never happened. Why the hell was he so upset? Was he actually jealous that I went on this date? As I ask myself these questions, coming up with dozens of possible answers that makes the confusion swirling in my head become torrent, my heart starts to flounder over the thought that maybe it all means something. Maybe the feelings I have for Hayden stirred something in my heart, and the result is anger. Confusing, frustrating anger.
The door finally swings open. Hayden stands on the other side, his glasses on and eyes bleary, dressed in a plain white undershirt and plaid boxers .
“Nat? What are you doing here?”
“I left my date at the restaurant.”
There’s a beat of silence as he rubs his hands over his face, his glasses lifting slightly in the process. When he doesn’t say anything, the frustration inside me builds even higher.
“Did you hear me?” I grit through clenched teeth. “I ditched him before we even had a chance to order our drinks.”
He sighs. “I heard you, Nat.”
“And that’s all you have to say? That you heard me?”
When he finally looks at me, his eyes look tired and weary. With the redness rimming his light eyes and the clenching tic of his jaw, a flash of fear zaps through me. What if I interpreted this all wrong? What if the way my heart pitter-patters and somehow aches at the same time whenever I’m around Hayden is all one-sided?
But then his nostrils flare and his eyes light up with anger, fueled by that fire igniting between us, instantly erasing those doubts. “What do you want me to say, Nat?” he asks. “Do you want me to congratulate you? Slap a hand on your back while I tell you to go back there and make sure to use protection with that fucking wannabe Justin Bieber reject?”
I scoff, mirroring his anger, making my face red and the tips of my ears hot. “You are such an asshole.”
“Well, if that’s what you think of me, I think I’ll go back to sleep.”
“You know what? Thank you for that bit of sound advice,” I say, a sarcastic smile peeking through the hurt in my words. My arms are splayed out, and my head is lowered slightly in a small bow. “I’ll make sure to pick up a box of condoms on my way back to Buca’s.”
I turn to walk away, my steps hobbling as the adrenaline tingles through my body. My throat starts to tighten as tears prick the corners of my eyes. The ache in my heart starts to become unbearable as I try to work through Hayden’s harsh rejection .
Then, just as I start to walk away, my arm is jerked back. I crash into Hayden, and my hands come up to meet his wide chest.
His hand moves to cup the back of my head, crashing his lips to mine. Our kiss is sloppy, completely urgent and hungry. My fingers lie flat against him before tightly gripping the thin fabric of his shirt into small, wrinkled clusters.
When our mouths open, welcoming the tangle of our tongues, I moan. As soon as I let the urgency become vocal, he grips me even harder. He moves us, my feet dragging along the hard floor as he steps into his apartment and closes the door behind me. My back crashes against the closed door while my fingers trail down his hard stomach, lifting the hem of his shirt. He breaks our kiss, chucking his glasses onto the side table at the entrance before reaching over the back of his shirt collar to pull it over his head. He peels off my jacket already hanging off my bare shoulders as the warm pads of his fingers run down the length of my arms.
“Turn around,” he orders, his bare chest heaving heavily.
I comply, my hands pressing against the cold, hard door and my cleavage swelling in front of me. His fingers trace along the short hem of my dress, lifting it to expose the bottom curve of my ass. He presses his free hand firmly against the door right next to my cheek.
“Tell me you didn’t wear this for him,” he growls into my ear. “Tell me you wore this dress for me.”
I turn my head sideways, facing him over the curve of my shoulder. When I see his eyes lowered as they skirt over my body, all I see is lust. Pure, hungry, aching lust.
“It was for you.”
“ Only me, Nat.”
My breath hitches, completely ragged and uncontrolled. I’m so turned on I can’t even breathe correctly .
“Only you,” I say breathlessly. Just as the words leave my lips, his hand glides up the inside of my thighs. So painfully slow. His rough hands stop as they meet my lacy black thong, now soaked through the sheer material. When he finds the wet heat between my legs, he groans.
“ Fuck .” His voice is low, so hoarse it almost sounds painful. “Did I make you this wet?” His finger hooks the bottom curve of my thong, teasing me in slow deliberate strokes. “I love that I do this to you…because you have no idea what you do to me.” I don’t hold back when a moan ripples through my throat.
My head rolls to one side, exposing my neck to him. Only this time, there’s no question what I want from him. His hot tongue meets the sensitive spot behind my neck, right where it meets my ear, making me shiver as the slick heat glides across my needy skin. I feel the tug of my zipper being lowered, gradually exposing my back and reminding him of the choice of negligee that I chose to wear tonight.
“You wore this sexy little thing for me too, didn’t you?” His fingers toy at the clasp that meets in the middle of my back, teasing as he calculates his next steps. My eyelids fall heavy and I suck in a sharp breath, feeling intoxicated from the desire I’m silently begging from him.
I nod, unable to form coherent words.
He finally unhooks my bra, letting it and my dress pool around my feet, around the sharp bottoms of my heels. I’m left only in my thong and stilettos.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard, you aren’t going to remember a thing about what’s his face back at Buca’s.” As the words leave his mouth, he presses his hard erection to my lower back, letting me know exactly how badly he wants this. Just as much as I do.
He flips me back around to face him. When I look down, I can see the strain of his hardness against the thin fabric of his boxers stretching to a full point .
He hoists me up, lifting me as my heels click together behind his back. His mouth lowers, enclosing it around my hard nipple, sucking and pulling, making the back of my head hit the door with unbridled pleasure.
“Hayden,” I moan, my nails digging into his shoulders.
One of his hands moves between us, dipping into my thong, while the other supports my weight. His fingers stroke my clit, gliding across the slick wetness. When his fingers dig deep into me, curving toward him as he strokes a spot that makes me draw in a sharp intake of breath, I moan again, loud and vulnerable. An electric thrum vibrates through my body as my back arches into him, all while I pull and tug at the roots of his hair, inflicting more pain than I mean to. His mouth moves across my bare chest, nipping and tugging at my skin before latching on to my other nipple.
“Keep doing that,” I croak, my voice strangled and weak. His finger continues to move in slow, evenly pressured strokes, his thumb circling me while rubbing against every sensitive nerve ending bundled between my legs, and the electric current continues to shoot right through me. “ Ohhh my god, Hayden. I’m so close.” My thighs tremble around his narrow waist, squeezing him tighter. When an orgasm rips through me, I lower my face into his shoulder, biting into his hot flesh as it muffles my cries while I claw at his bare back.
“Fuck, Nat,” he grits. “I could listen to you say my name like that all night.” A lazy smile curves at the corners of his mouth. And then he does something so carnal, so goddamn erotic. I didn’t even realize how hot it would make me until I see Hayden’s hungry eyes bear into my own as he brings his fingers, glistening with my orgasm, to his mouth and sucks it right off as if he’s savoring the taste, licking off every last drop like I just poured sweet honey all over the rough edges of his fingertips and knuckles.
He leans forward, running his nose along my neck, and hums against my skin. “You taste like heaven,” he says with a voice that sounds so low I can practically feel the growl that comes with it at the base of his throat .
As I slump in his arms, too limp and sated, he pulls me away from the door and walks toward his room. My hands move to grip the roots of the hair at the back of his head again, tugging as I kiss him with impatience. Once inside his room, he kicks the door shut and lays me on the soft mattress of his bed. He lowers himself, hovering over me as his breath skates over my skin.
His hands graze down my hot, needy skin methodically as he hooks them along the straps of my thong to shimmy it down my hips and tug it down my legs. His lips latch onto my skin, right where my hips meet my legs, sucking as he leaves his mark on me before moving up my body, stopping to pay extra attention to the spots that make my body writhe. As his lips finally meet the dip in my collarbone, my back arched off the bed, he grinds into me.
As our lips meet again, he speaks soft words into my mouth. They spill out of him between our kisses. He breathes them into my soul as my heart longs for what I’ve been wanting to hear. “These lips are all I’ve been thinking about.”
“You mean since we kissed in your room?” I ask, so damn breathless I can barely get the words out.
He shakes his head against my temple. “Since that night at the lake house eight years ago,” he finally says, his admission sounding full of the pain and longing that’s built up over the years. “Since we went apple picking and I saw you in those damn boots. Since prom. Since the wedding.”
I pull away to look at him, my eyes searching his for answers. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Natalia,” he says, his brow furrowing slightly as he breathes against my lips. He shakes his head again. And instead of answering, he covers my lips with his own, pulling me into a crushing, hollowing kiss. It’s a kiss that’s separate from the passion vibrating between us. It’s one that’s meant to erase every question running through my mind. He’s sucking them off my lips instead, allowing me a moment to be in this without demanding answers first.
My arms and legs start wrapping around him, pulling him closer to me, all while holding on to this kiss as if I were starved. He reaches behind him to remove my heels, unhooking each one, and they clack to the floor. Then his hands grip at my waist, flipping me so I hover over him. I instinctively grind against him, feeling this built-up pressure inside of me, aching for him to fill it. He shifts, lifting his hips to shimmy down his boxers, springing his erection free before reaching for his nightstand to remove a condom. He hands it to me, holding it loosely between his fingers, urging me to put it on him.
I scoot back just the tiniest bit to make room before ripping open the foil packaging. I look down at his length. My mouth practically waters from the anticipation of finally feeling him, aching to have him fill me. I glide down the thin latex, sliding it over him while gripping the base of his cock, holding him while watching him throw his head back into his pillow, moaning through the shock of pleasure merely from my firm grip.
When the condom is on, fit snugly over him, he looks at me. His hands move to my bare hips, sliding over my skin with a tight squeeze on my waist. “Ride me,” he demands, lifting me over him. I brace myself against his chest, pushing into the hard muscle as I move to position myself at his tip. And I slowly lower myself, so slowly. I move inch by inch, enjoying too much the aching pain smeared across Hayden’s face, becoming even more turned on as he stretches me bit by bit.
“Holy fuck , Nat,” he grunts. “God, you’re so fucking tight.”
I finally lower myself into him completely, leaning forward as my body slumps from the wave of ecstasy rippling through me. And without even thinking about it, I clench myself around him .
He groans in response. “Nat, you’re going to have to stop doing that,” he hisses. “In fact, you’re going to have to stop moving altogether. Otherwise, I’m going to come, and I don’t want to just yet.”
I shake my head, refusing to stop doing what my body wants. “It feels so good ,” I drawl.
Instead of lifting myself to slip in and out of him, I hover above him, gripping the wooden headboard above his head. When I do that, my breasts hang low in his face, causing him to lift his head and lick the curves that line the creases between them. I start to rock back and forth, my hips moving on their own as they chase another orgasm slowly building up inside me, living for the delicious friction I’m causing between us.
“Nat,” he grits, his hands pulling at the skin at my waist. “You feel so. Fucking. Good. ”
I continue the back and forth, rubbing into his pubic bone while discovering the even more delicious friction I’m creating there. As a steady rhythm builds, the pain etched on his face starts to fade, leaving behind a mask of pleasure through hooded eyes and an almost devilish smile.
“That’s it, baby,” he says in a strained voice, letting a loud moan end his sentence. “That’s my girl.”
I feel a ball of tingles start to gather low in my groin, making me throb. I moan. And not in a sexy, seductive way but in a way that is completely abandoned and wild.
“Hayden, I’m going to come again,” I gasp. I bury my forehead into his shoulder, muffling a cry into his skin now damp with a thin layer of sweat.
“I know, baby,” he mumbles into my hair, holding back his own orgasm through the tightness in his voice. “ Fuck , you look so fucking sexy when you’re about to come,” his low voice rasps.
And then it hits me, the orgasm that tears through my core, causing me to yell out so loudly that it ripples against my throat. I feel the contractions grip him tighter and tighter as he buries his face into my shoulder, fisting my hair while my body levitates into nirvana where everything that surrounds me feels like some sort of spell work or sorcery.
Just as I’m coming down from my high, I’m flipped on my back. Our bodies are still connected as he adjusts himself while resting on his knees. He grips my thighs and drags me closer to him. He withdraws enough so that his tip is still inside me, teasing me as my nails dig into his arms.
“I wanted to take my time with you, Nat, but I don’t think I can,” he says, his eyes bearing into my soul. “I don’t know how much longer I can last.”
I lean forward, looking into his eyes with everything that burns between us. We burn for each other, that fire kindling and finally combusting as we tuck away every single reason we shouldn’t be doing this.
I pant against him, aching for more. “Fuck me,” I say, baring my teeth with each syllable. As soon as the words leave my lips, he slams into me so hard that I have absolutely no control over the desperate cries that squeeze through my lips. Each thrust thereafter comes harder and harder.
I meet every one of his thrusts. My inner thighs squeeze against his hips, caging him toward me and encouraging every shift of movement that brings him closer to the edge. Just as my thighs begin to tremble around his hips, he bucks into me faster and faster.
My moans grow louder, more frenzied, as his muscles grow taut. Everything, from the lines on his abs to the thick cords that run down his neck, bulges. Muscles that cover his torso, all hard and masculine. As if the last eight years spent off the football field didn’t affect him one bit and they all remain affixed to him through muscle memory and a generally active lifestyle.
His hand wraps around my throat, grabbing hold so that his thrusts plunge into me more deliberately, more purposefully. And just as I reach to grip his forearm, further encouraging his hold, a loud groan resounds through his chest as he comes .
“ Fuuuck ,” he howls.
It feels like his soul connects with mine, letting our hearts peel back from the ashes of our fire with nothing left but the glowing embers, letting me know that this is just beginning. The sparks will always be there because this , this burning ache, this chasm of impatient hunger…it will never die out.
He stills and his body slumps over mine. I feel his heart gallop in his chest as our ragged breaths sync through heavy gasps of air. “Holy shit, Nat,” he says against my skin.
My breathing evens out as I eye him, my hand hovering over my forehead, trying to process what just happened between us. Neither of us had a moment to think about our actions. We didn’t consider what would happen to our friendship and what we wanted out of an actual relationship.
I push those thoughts aside as a sweet, exhausted slumber begins to lull over me. Hayden moves to lie beside me after removing his condom and lazily tossing it in the direction of his wastebasket. He drapes his arm over my side as I turn to face him, both our arms tucked under our heads and our eyes searching the other’s.
“Hayden,” I whisper. I want to tell him that…I don’t know what. But if someone asked me right then and there if I love him, if I could picture spending the rest of my life with him, imagining a future together, the answer would be yes. It would be yes a thousand times over because I can’t imagine saying no. I can’t imagine walking away from this with anything other than the greatest love story of my life.
Maybe these thoughts, these feelings, have been brewing in my mind since we both reentered each other’s lives. Or maybe it’s been there since we were seventeen, lodged into a lone crevice in my heart where I let it expand into feelings I didn’t know I had until we finally exploded. We took a chance. That’s what this was, us taking a shot at something great. Because we deserve it. Don’t we? After all of this time, didn’t we earn that road that led to all the what-ifs being answered ?
But there are still so many of those what-ifs. And they begin to fester in my mind, held at the tip of my tongue as he scoots closer to me, pressing his warm body against my shivering one shaking from all the fear and uncertainties.
We stay quiet, staring at each other while somehow saying so much more than actual words. Words that may be misunderstood or misspoken if not said carefully. Instead of making mistakes, saying things when we aren’t ready to, Hayden cups my cheek with his warm hand and kisses me. He kisses me as if he’s unsure. As if he still has yet to figure out what all of this means.