Meant For Her

15. Dakota

“Hello,” I answer my phone at the same time I apply glitter at the corner of Rain’s eye.

“Hey,” Christopher replies. “What time are you guys headed out?” I look over my shoulder at the clock on the stove.

“We should be out by six,” I tell him. “It’s almost five. I have to feed the kids, and then we are going to go. Why?”

“I told the girls I would go with you guys,” he says. “Did you make dinner?”

“I did not,” I admit while I move to the other eye and put some glitter on that one. “I was going to probably order.”

“Okay, I’ll call in a pizza order and pick it up, so it’ll be faster. I’ll be at your place by five thirty. Is that enough time?”

“Should be,” I say, grabbing the crown of fake flowers I sewed together for the past month for Rain’s costume.

“See you then.” He disconnects. The past two weeks have been, I don’t even know what word can describe it. I started working at Zara’s Closet last week and love every second of it. I didn’t think it would be an easy transition, and I expected to feel overwhelmed, but in the end, I felt like this was what I needed. It was so good to get out of the same routine I was doing, day in and day out. I felt accomplished at the end of the day. I start after ten in the morning, so I still have time to go to therapy and my support group. Some nights, I’ll work on a couple of things, but I’m not overextending myself.

The other thing that has been a constant is the phone calls with Christopher. Usually, it starts with a good morning text, and he asks about the kids. But then at night, when he knows they are in bed, he calls me to shoot the shit, like he says. We have nothing in common; he likes one thing, and I’m on the other side. The only thing we have in common is we both think we are hilarious. Me more so than him. Even though I’ll never admit it to him, he’s pretty snarky. It’s the nighttime phone calls that I’ve come to look forward to. Although, when he’s on the road, the phone calls happen at three, right before I pick up the girls. But it’s an everyday thing, and I’m trying not to overthink it. Except all I do is think about it.

I pin the crown of flowers on her head and then show her what she looks like in the mirror. She gasps, “I look like a fairy.” She moves her head from left to right, swinging the little ringlet curls we started on as soon as she got home from school. “I’m going to go and get my dress on.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Wait until after dinner so you don’t dirty it.

“Luna,” I call her name, “come and do your hair.” Luckily for me, she wanted to be a cat this year, so all I need to do is tie her hair in a ponytail, put whiskers on her face, and paint her nose pink.

I’m putting everything away when the doorbell rings. “That’s Uncle Christopher!” I shout from my bathroom as I hear the kids run to the door.

“Pizza!” both girls scream. I look into the mirror, making sure I look okay before heading downstairs, telling myself I’m just fixing myself for when we leave the house. I walk down the stairs toward the kitchen and find Christopher in the middle of it, grabbing some plates. It’s funny how it’s so natural to see him here doing this, yet confusing at the same time.

“Hey.” He looks over, giving me a little smirk, and I quickly smile at him and head toward the fridge, looking away from him before he sees my cheeks get pink from his stupid smirk. It started happening last week at hockey practice. He looked over at me and smirked after he said something about one of the kids, and my stomach got tight. I thought it was because I was hungry, but after sitting down that night and thinking about it, it had nothing to do with me eating and everything to do with his blue eyes.

He does the kids’ plates, where he cuts up the pieces of pizza before he sits down at the end of the island. He talks to the kids about their day, and when they are finished, he sends me up with them to get them dressed while he cleans the kitchen.

We walk out of the house after I put on my black vest and the girls grab their Halloween bags. “Okay, so when we get home,” Christopher declares, “I get first dibs of the candy.”

I laugh when the girls don’t agree to it. “You should bring your own bag, then,” Luna informs him as she lets go of my hand to walk up to the house next door.

“You okay?” Christopher asks from beside me, his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, why?” I look over at him.

“It’s just the first holiday.” The way his voice goes soft makes my chest get tight.

“News flash.” I take a deep breath. “Benji wasn’t here the last two Halloweens,” I tell him, and before he can ask me anything, the girls run back so we can walk to the next house.

“How is that possible?” he asks when the girls leave again.

I shrug. “It just is.” I can see his jaw clenching as he bites down. I avoid looking at him the rest of the night, and by the time we walk back to the house, he has Luna on his shoulders because her legs are tired.

He kisses the kids goodbye. “I’m leaving tomorrow for a week, so you won’t see me at hockey,” he says and both the girls groan a bit. “I’ll try to FaceTime Mommy so I can see.” He smiles over their head at me. “If she answers.”

“When haven’t I answered?” I joke with him as he gets up from hugging them. I shake my head as he walks out of the house.

The second day he’s gone, he calls me earlier than normal. “Hey.” I pick up while I’m sitting at my computer looking at a new client list.

“Are you coming to the fundraiser next weekend?” he asks, and I hear the sound of a door slamming on his end.

“I have no idea,” I tell him. “I got the invite, but I’m not sure.” It’s the annual fundraiser the team does, usually to support the children’s hospital. I’ve gone every year, obviously, because Benji had to go. The last time we went was the first time I knew he was taking drugs. I also knew I would never put myself in that position again.

“Why not?” He sounds out of breath.

“I don’t know, because I might not want to.” I lean back in my chair. “Why?”

“I was just asking. I didn’t know if you would be coming or not.” He takes a drink of whatever he is drinking. “It’s for the kids.”

“I’ll think about it,” I give in. “I was going to have a Sandra Bullock marathon.” I try not to let him know that I’m laughing.

“Good God, start with The Lake House, it’ll end quickly.”

“Goodbye,” I say, hanging up with the sound of him laughing.

It takes me a whole week to decide to go. Even on the day of the event, I think about backing out. I haven’t even really told Christopher I’m going, in case I get cold feet before I go. He hasn’t asked me since that phone call, and I haven’t brought it up. The babysitter arrives on time, so I go up and get ready.

I tie my hair at the back of my neck in a long ponytail before applying just a touch of makeup. I quickly get into the dress I ordered literally two days ago and had it rushed over to me. Luckily, I knew the designer, and she could do it. I went with an off-the-shoulder, silk mermaid gown with one little cap sleeve on the right side. It has ruching on the left side of the top area. It goes to the floor but shows the side split when you walk. Turning, I look at myself in the mirror before I grab my nude heels with a peep toe.

After I inhale deeply, the sitter calls my name and tells me the car is here. I put my hand on my stomach before I grab my purse and walk out of the room. When I get to the bottom, I ask to zip me up the rest of the way before I lean down and kiss the girls. “I shouldn’t be late,” I tell the sitter, who waves with the girls at the door.

My stomach is in knots as I make my way over to the hotel where the event takes place. Looking out the window, I try not to talk myself out of turning back and going home.

I don’t have a chance to do anything because my door is opened by the doorman of the hotel. I smile at him before getting out and walking into the building. A big sign on the side of the staircase indicates where to go.

I walk up the staircase with a lump in my throat and my stomach feeling like it’s going to come out of my feet. I spot him right away; he’s dressed in a black suit that I’ve seen him wear before, but now it feels like it’s different on him. He stands with the guys talking but stops midsentence when he sees me. His eyes are on mine as if he doesn’t really believe I’m here. I hold up my hand to him, and he leaves the guys to come my way. “What are you doing here?” he asks when he stops in front of me. “You look amazing.” His voice is breathless and tight. “I would have picked you up.”

“It was a last-minute decision,” I tell him, trying to smile but feeling the tears. “I might leave in an hour or ten minutes. The jury is still out.”

He just shakes his head. “You say the word, and we’ll get out of here.” He motions with his head. “But first, you have to say hello.”

“Yeah, I was afraid of that,” I mumble as he puts his hand on my lower back. I spot a couple of the players who used to play with Benji. They are all super nice to me and friendly, and I’ve learned that even though they might have known he was on drugs, Benji was responsible for himself. At the end of the day, he was the one who had to look out for me and the girls, not them.

“Hi,” Andreas greets me, bending his head and kissing my cheek. “I’m happy you come here,” he says with his thick accent.

“Thank you.” I smile, taking his affection.

“You alone?” He looks around me to see if I have maybe a friend or a date.

“I’m alone.” I hold my purse in both hands to stop them from shaking.

“Good, good.” He chuckles.

“Go away,” Christopher says from beside me, and when I look over, I see him glaring at Andreas, who just laughs silently.

“What?” He shrugs before he walks away.

“That guy is a tool,” Christopher mumbles. “Do you want something to drink?”

“I think I am going to have something to drink.” I turn to him, not realizing how close I am to him. When I do turn, I also forget his arm is at my lower back so now I’m tucked into his side. I look into his soft eyes. “I am definitely getting a drink,” I whisper.

“I’ll go get you one,” Christopher offers but doesn’t move from beside me.

“In order to do that, one must move.” I giggle like a schoolgirl.

“Yeah.” He looks into my eyes and then down at my lips. My heart skips a beat as he moves his hand to my hip, squeezing it a second before he lets me go and walks over to the bar. I try not to watch, but I fail. I also remember that I never told him what I wanted to drink, but whatever it is he gets for me, I’m going to drink it.

I didn’t even look around at the event space. It looks like an enchanted forest. The lights are dim, so it shows the fake trees that look like they are all white with blue and pink lights. Black tablecloths are over every table with white picket chairs. “Here,” Christopher says to me, handing me a glass of white wine.

“Who said I wanted white wine?” I try to keep a straight face when I see his eyes go big as he looks at me and then the glass in his hand.

“You always drink white wine.” He holds up the glass. “But I can go and get you something else.”

“I’m just playing with you.” I smile at him as I take the glass from him. Our fingers graze at the handoff, making my hand tingle from the tips of my fingernails to my elbow. “Thank you,” I say, holding up the glass and taking a sip.

“We should sit,” he suggests, looking around when he sees people starting to sit at tables.

“Are you here by yourself?” I ask, and his head tilts to the side as his eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “I don’t know if you have a date for this thing.”

“In the past seven months, when have I had a date?” he asks, and I roll my eyes.

“Keely was at your game,” I point out to him.

“That was date one and none,” he mumbles, and I try not to let his words get me excited. “Let’s go sit with Cole and Brittany.” He motions to the side with his head.

I nod as we walk across the dance floor to the table where Cole and Brittany are sitting and talking to each other. “Is this seat taken?” Christopher asks, and Brittany gasps when she sees me.

“I’m so happy you came.” She gets up from her seat to come over to me. “I didn’t want to pressure you, but”—she kisses my cheek—“I’m glad you came.”

“Thank you,” I reply, smiling at Cole, who comes to me and also kisses my cheeks.

“Love that dress,” Brittany compliments while Christopher pulls out a chair for me to sit in, and I smile at him.

“Thank you,” I say to him, then turn back to Brittany, who sits next to me. “It’s from a new up-and-coming designer I’m working with,” I state proudly, and her eyes almost bulge out of her head.

“You have a job?” she asks, and I nod before taking another sip of wine. “Tell me everything. I feel like I know nothing.”

“Yeah.” I look over at Christopher, who takes the seat next to me, holding his tie as he sits down. Brittany and I chat back and forth about what I’ve been up to. The table fills with a couple more people, all shocked and a little surprised to see me, but all of them cordial.

The head of the hospital fundraising committee comes up to give a speech as food is passed out. I finish the glass of wine and another is quickly poured for me by a passing server. I sit with my hands in my lap while Christopher stretches one arm around my chair, something he’s done in the past, but I’ve never been affected like I am right at this moment. I try to focus on the speech, but the only thing I can think of is the heat of his hand near my back. “And with that, I announce that the dance floor is now open,” he says as a song comes on.

Cole gets up from his seat, grabbing Brittany’s hand and pulling her to the dance floor that’s getting full by the second. Christopher pushes his chair away from the table, and I look up at him as he holds out his hand to me. “Let’s go.”

“Is that your way of asking me to dance?” I put the napkin that is on my lap back on the table.

“This may be why you don’t have a date,” I joke with him, but even though saying the words as a joke, it bothers me. I put my hand in his as he leads me to the dance floor. He wraps his free hand around my waist, while he tucks the hand he was holding to his chest. I put my free arm on his elbow.

“I don’t have a date,” he leans in to whisper in my ear, “because I don’t want to have a date.”

“Good to know.” I try to ignore the way the back of my neck heats as he moves us in a circle. “Why don’t you want to have a date?”

I swallow down the bile that feels like it’s creeping up my throat, trying to get my heart rate back to normal while I’m so close to him. In his arms, it feels weird but also so good. “I—” he says. “I want to have a date,” he admits, and my knees about buckle when he looks into my eyes, “but she’s unavailable.”

I don’t ask him anything else. The only thing I can do is stare into his eyes. I could get lost in his eyes. His arm pulls me closer to him as we dance, neither of us saying anything. It’s like all we are saying is in the look we are giving each other. His chest rises and falls under our hands so fast it’s like he’s working out. “I need some air,” he says to me when the song comes to a stop. “Want to come with me?”

I look into his eyes. I want to go anywhere with you, I want to say, but I don’t trust myself, so I just nod. He doesn’t release my hand as he pulls us out of the room. We walk down the steps, and anyone looking at us would think we are a couple.

He walks around the staircase toward the side door, pushing it open. The cool air hits me right away, and I shiver. He shrugs his jacket off before I can tell him not to and wraps it around my shoulders. The cobblestone rock on the path makes my heels sink in, so I reach out to hold his arm to steady myself. “Where are we?” I ask as I look around at a little courtyard. It looks like it’s in the middle of the hotel as some of the windows have lights on. Potted plants are scattered around the little space, and when you look up, you see the stars twinkling in the sky.

“No idea,” he answers me, “I saw a door.”

I laugh, holding the jacket closed with one hand as we walk toward the corner of the building where there aren’t many lights on. “This is nice,” I observe as we finally make it to a pathway that has concrete, so my heels aren’t sinking. “It’s a little chilly.” I look over at him, seeing him put his hands in his pockets. “Do you want your jacket back?” I ask and shiver at the same time, making me laugh at myself. “We might have to share it.” He looks at me, his eyes turning a darker blue, his jaw tight as if he’s biting down on it. “What’s the matter?” I ask as we stop at the corner of the courtyard, where a darkened entrance leads to a door with the word Maintenance on it.

“Nothing,” he says, his words barely a whisper.

“Can I ask you something?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“Don’t you know that you can ask me anything?” His voice sounds like it’s in pain. “And in that dress.” He shakes his head and takes one of his hands out of his pocket and grabs the back of his neck with it.

I don’t know if it’s the wine. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I’m out of the house, dressed in a nice dress, and just slow danced with a man who has been nothing but supportive to me and my girls. I don’t know if it’s the fact being in his arms stirred something from the depths of my soul. I don’t know if it’s just the fact that today I put get Christopher to kiss me on my list. I don’t know what it is, but we are here, and I’m taking the leap. “Touch me,” I whisper, stepping toward him, putting my hands on his chest, feeling his heart racing just as fast as mine.

“Dakota.” He uses my full name. “I’m holding on by a string, baby.” His voice cracks, and the way he just called me baby made every single part of me tingle, especially parts that have not seen action for over a year.

“You said I could ask you anything.” My finger taps his white shirt. “I’m asking you to touch me.”

“Fuck,” he groans before his hands fly to my face, and he spins me around to the darkened corner, pushing my back against the wall. My hand comes up to grab his tie, pulling him to me. “Fuck it all,” he says before his mouth touches mine. My hand grips his tie even tighter, while the other one comes up to hold his cheek. At the same time as his tongue touches mine, fireworks go off inside me. His mouth swallows my moan as one hand drops from my face to my neck. His head twists to the other side to deepen the kiss. I’m lost in all that is him. I’m lost in his smell. I’m lost in his touch. I’m lost in his taste.

He pulls back, looking down at me, his thumb rubbing the side of my throat before his mouth replaces the heat of his finger. My hands go to his sides as my eyes close, his tongue trailing up the vein where my pulse beats. His hand drops to my hip as he pulls me to him, and I feel how much this is doing to him. I arch my back, the jacket slips off my shoulders and pools around my feet, but we are too lost in each other to care. He nips my jaw before his mouth finds mine again. His hands find mine and move them up beside my head. Our fingers link with each other as we kiss. I’ve never been kissed like this before. I’ve never wanted to be kissed so badly in my life before. I’ve never wanted a kiss to go on forever before. He lets one hand go before he grabs my chin and moves from right to left, leaving my mouth to trail down kisses.

“Christopher.” His name on my lips feels like I’ve been saying it my whole life.

“What, baby?” he says softly as my hands slowly fall from beside my head, his eyes looking up to mine. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to touch me.” My hands grip his hips. “Touch me.”

“Your wish…” His tongue trails down my neck, making me move to the side to give him better access to it, right down to where my dress sits, before his tongue sweeps in and licks my nipple. My eyes close at that moment, and I pull his hardness into me more, lifting my leg over his hip. “…is my command.”

My hands move from his hips to his ass, then up his back. I want to touch all of him, and my only wish is that he was naked so I could touch his skin. “Dakota,” he murmurs my name again, and I open my eyes, “last chance to tell me to stop.” Instead of answering him, I fist the back of his shirt before I move lower and pull his shirt out of his pants, my hands sliding under his shirt to his back.

He moves his head back up to kiss me. My mouth devours his as I move my hand to the front of his shirt, pulling it all out of his pants. His hand goes to my leg on his hip as he trails his fingertips up it, slowly, ever so fucking slowly. His fingers walk up the trail toward where I want his touch. My hands move at the same pace as his, almost as if I’m mimicking him. I feel his fingers right beside where my panties meet my hips. I sigh when he moves the lace to the side. Dropping my foot to the ground, I open my legs more. He lets go of my lips, leaving me panting. “I want to watch your eyes,” he explains, and I just look at him, wanting to ask him what he”s talking about, but I’m in a daze. “Right now,” he says at the same time his finger runs down my slit, over my clit, and into me. I swear to God I exhale. “That,” he announces, pulling his finger out and then pushing it in again, “is what I wanted to see. How your eyes light up when I touch you.”

“Yes,” I say. My body feels like it’s on fire. He could touch me literally anywhere, and I’ll light up like a firework.

My hands go to his belt, and he shakes his head. “If you undo my belt, I’m going to end up fucking you into the wall.” He slides another finger into me. “And I’m not going to give a shit that everyone is going to hear you come for me.” His thumb grazes over my clit, making my knees weak. “I also know that I’m not only going to fuck you once. I’m going to want to fuck you all night long.” He slams his fingers into me. “But when I finally get my cock in you, I’m going to want you spread on my bed, and it’s going to be after I’ve buried my face in your pussy and have made you come a couple of times.”

“Yes,” I agree, thinking about everything he’s said, “let’s do that.” I move away from the belt buckle to cup his cock over his pants, feeling how hard he is. “I want to do all of that.”

“You have no idea”—he slides his tongue into my mouth, moving it at the same pace as his fingers—“how fucking bad I want to taste you.”

“Then do it.” I look in his eyes as he says that, never expecting him to drop to his knees in front of me.

Looking up at me, he pushes my dress to the side. “If you insist,” he says, right before his mouth devours me. He moves one leg over his shoulder as his tongue slides into me with his fingers. I swear to God I see white spots when his tongue licks up from my hole to my clit, right before he bites down on it, first gently, and when I moan, he sucks it into his mouth. His fingers work me over and over, and the sound of my wetness drowns out my panting. “You fucking taste like heaven,” he praises right before he bites my clit again, this time harder, as my hand goes into his hair. The hair I’ve wanted to touch for the past month is now between my fingers. “I could eat you all day, every day.” He slides his fingers faster.

“Christopher,” I pant out his name, “I’m going to?—”

“Yeah, I know, baby.” He flicks his tongue before my leg drops to the ground, and he stands. “But I want to watch your face when I make you come.” He kisses me, and I’ve never in my life felt the hunger I feel right now. It’s barbaric. I want to rip his clothes off. I want him to rip my clothes off. I want him to pound into me over and over again. “Fuck.” He lets go of my lips. “Let go, baby,” he tells me, knowing I’m holding back. How he knows, I have no idea. I just want this moment to go on. “Your pussy is squeezing my fingers.” His lips hover over mine, his eyes on mine. “You can do it, baby,” he encourages me at the same time he curls his fingers inside me, pushing me off that cliff. “Come, baby, come for me,” he whispers.

My hand goes to hold his wrist to stop him from moving inside me. “Oh no, baby, I’m not stopping until you come on my fingers.” My stomach gets tight, it’s right there, I can taste it, I can feel it, and it’s going to be out of this world. “That’s it,” he urges, moving frantically, slamming his fingers into me.

“Oh my God,” I chant over and over again, moving my head from side to side. “Christopher.”

“Right here, baby,” he reassures me, and I let go and fly. I come on his hand so hard that my whole body shakes under him. “Fuck, you’re soaking me,” he hisses as I squeeze his fingers over and over again. The spasms roar through me. “That’s my girl.” His mouth covers mine as I yell out.