38. Dalton
38
DALTON
W e stumble through the door of the apartment, kissing the entire way.
When Nadia looks around the place as if to assess it for changes, I scoop her up and walk her to the bed.
She lets out a “Whoop” as I toss her onto Optimus Prime.
Then I’m over her, braced on my arms, looking down at her face.
I’m still in shock over that first glimpse I got of her through the NICU window. Even though I knew she would be back after talking to Camryn, I didn’t expect to see her yet. She must have jumped in her car the moment she heard and drove straight to the hospital.
All the things I planned to do and say evaporated when we were breathing the same air. I need to touch her, to kiss her, to hang on.
And now that we’re here, back in our space, I don’t see how I can let her go again.
I press a long, lingering kiss on her mouth.
Her arms encircle my neck. The feel of her is a revelation, like I’ve arrived at true north. My hands won’t stay still, caressing her cheek, her neck, grazing the side of her breast. I can’t get enough.
The sweatshirt covers too much of her, so I lift the bottom and inch it up over her belly. Her skin is warm, and my fingers bump along her rib cage, my senses flooded with familiarity.
She breaks the kiss, breathing faster, her eyes on mine. I slip my hand beneath her bra, cupping the warm, soft breast. Her chest heaves as she sucks in a breath.
Slow. I’m going to take this so slow. I want none of this to end, and I will draw it all out as long as possible.
I move down her body to press my lips against the hollow beside her belly button. I make my way up, pushing the sweatshirt over her head.
As I reach the base of her bra, I reach behind her to unclasp the hooks.
She lets out a sigh as it releases. I tug it away.
Now she’s all mine to worship, touch, and taste. I hold both breasts, kneeling over her, my tongue sliding around one nipple, then the other.
Her back arches, and I grip more tightly, eliciting a moan.
It feels like forever since I’ve seen her like this, and yet it is as familiar as yesterday. I continue the slow, thorough exploration of her body, then move one hand to the waistband of her sweatpants.
She squirms beneath me, eager for me to move on. She seems to want more skin contact, because she tugs the shirt to my scrubs over my head.
The heat of our connection makes me rock hard, and it gets much harder to take things slow.
But I do, easing the sweatpants down her legs. They get stuck at her tennis shoes, but I pause a moment to untie them and toss them on the floor.
When her legs are bare, I work my way back up with excruciating patience, kissing the inside of her ankle, her calf, and the bump of her knee.
When I reach her thigh, she sucks in a breath. I hesitate inches from the edge of her panties, savoring the anticipation.
She wriggles again, needing me to move forward. And I oblige, slipping my fingers beneath the lace band to pull them down.
The scrap of satin falls to the floor without a sound. I grasp one of her knees and edge it aside. She’s naked before me, spread wide, resplendent in the low light.
I want to memorize every inch of her. But right now, I want to please her, to make her cry out in the night. I use both thumbs to open her wide, and when my tongue makes its first long lick, she lets out a keening cry.
Her belly shudders, and I realize how pent up she’s been. How much we both have been longing for each other. I slip a finger inside her and suck on the pronounced nub of her clit.
That’s all it takes. She’s over the top, grabbing my hair, crying out my name and random syllables and sliding into a lengthy, breathy groan.
Her body shudders, her hips rocking back and forth. I keep licking, drawing it out, unrelenting, until she holds my head still.
We lie there for several heartbeats, letting her body settle. Then she pulls herself up to sitting and takes my arms, lifting me so that she can rid me of the pants.
She has the same problem, pausing to remove my shoes. Then I’m naked by the bed and she scoots backward, drawing me down on top of her.
When I enter her, she cries out again. Her eyes sparkle with tears. I’m emotional, too, clasping her head as I move inside her.
This is where we belong, where we should always be.
How can we get this back?
She wraps her legs around my back and moves up and down, wanting more speed, more depth. I give it to her, and the bed rocks as I take her hard and fast.
She gasps, a guttural cry escaping her a second time. I crash into her body, unrelenting, crazed. I need her like nothing else. I will do anything for her. Quit the hospital. Live in my car. I can’t let her go again.
She grips my shoulders and I release into her, my whole body alight, dazzled and electric to be here again, making her mine, being hers.
I hold myself above her, trying to get my bearings.
She presses her face into the side of my neck like she always used to, and I drag her tightly against me. I want as much connection with her as I can get for as long as possible.
We roll onto our sides, listening to the silence of the room. It’s never been so quiet when we were together, with cats padding around before.
I want them back too.
Eventually, our breathing slows and we both trace lazy circles on each other’s skin.
“How long do we have until your next shift starts?” she asks.
“Tomorrow evening.”
“Will you work twelve or twenty-four?”
“Twelve.”
She breathes against my skin. The warmth of her is comforting. But she’ll get a text soon. The baby will be born. She’ll spend time with family. I’ll have another shift.
I try to push the thoughts away, but they must be crashing down on Nadia as well, as she says, “I won’t be staying to help like I originally planned when I lived here. I have work to do in Boulder.”
Everything in me tenses. “So you’ll leave again?”
Her eyelashes flutter against my jaw. “I don’t want to.” The way she looks up at me in the low light from the kitchen is so familiar that I half expect a kitten to suddenly squirm between us.
“What do we do?” I pull her even closer, as if I could draw her into me.
“Los Angeles is so expensive,” she says. “I looked and looked. Unless I take a high-paying job in some soul-sucking corporation, I can’t swing it.”
“You mean renting a place for the cats?”
“I mean starting a rescue, or working with rescues. I’ve tried every which way.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Then I will have to find a way to come to you.”
“How? You’re in a program.”
“I can transfer after my intern year. I’ll apply anywhere I can in Colorado.”
She pulls away to look at me. “Is there a chance you’ll get something?”
“I will do my absolute best.”
“When will you know?”
“After I pass my exams. That’s when we either get promoted in our current programs, or if we decide to go in a different direction, we do a new internship somewhere else.”
“Would you have to intern again if you move?”
It’s likely, but I don’t say that. “I’ll do my absolute best.”
“Okay,” she says. “Until then, I’ll come back to LA more often. The cats are doing great at my parents’.”
“If I get even forty-eight hours off, I’ll come to you.”
She lets out a laugh. “When does that happen?”
“Pretty much never.”
She tucks her head back against me. “I’ll visit. I should have already.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I tell her. “Now that we know.”
“What do we know?”
“That it was more than something convenient. That it’s real.”
She presses her cheek to my shoulder. “Do you still love me?”
She’s looking away, as if she is afraid of the answer. “I didn’t know until I saw you. And it’s definitely, undeniably, yes.”
She can’t look at me, but her words shake me to the core. “I think maybe I’m starting to love you, too.”
Everything in my body relaxes, as if I’ve finally come to the top of the mountain after a long, difficult climb.
I turn her face to mine. “You make me the happiest man alive.”
“Even if I get us kicked out of apartments?”
“I’ll take in kittens with you each and every time.”
She lifts her chin to press her lips to mine. We’re mid kiss when her phone buzzes across the room.
We both sit up. “The baby!”
Nadia lunges for it, quickly scanning the screen. “She’s here! Just now!”
I scramble for a pair of jeans. “Let’s go.”
“But you need sleep!”
“What’s a few more hours?”
We hustle into our clothes and dash for the car.
We have a new Pickle to meet.