38. Nate
THIRTY-EIGHT
nate
“What a night.”
Zoe sat across from me at the bar while I finished cleaning up. It had been a lot of years since I tended bar, but it came back to me like riding a bicycle. Everyone had left, and I’d told Owen I wanted to close the place down.
“Three a.m. Guess we’re going to have some pretty late nights.”
“We? You don’t have to be shackled to this place even if I do.”
“I wouldn’t use the word shackled. You’re gonna have a hard time getting rid of me, you know?”
“Now why would I want to do something like that?”
Zoe sipped on a glass of water with lemon. Those gin drinks hit hard, and she’d stopped drinking a while ago. “Hopefully, you don’t.”
Tossing the rag down, I leaned across the bar, wanting to talk seriously for a second. “I thought about asking you first. It’s a big commitment, owning a bar. And my schedule will be as crazy as Owen’s was. But I also wanted to surprise you.”
“And you knew I’d be thrilled with any decision you made. A restaurant. A bar. Something else. I just want you to enjoy what you do as much as me. We’ll make it work.”
It was a relief to hear her say that. “We will.”
“I’m still in shock. It all happened so fast.”
True enough. “When you know, you know. I’m just surprised he went for it. KC’s has been in his family for generations.”
“That had to be hard for him. But Lusanne. The baby. Not to mention all of his other endeavors.”
“Seems like his family owns half the town from the research I did.”
“They were kind of like Kitchi Fall’s founders. There were other families with farms all around the lake, but I think his great-great-grandfather, or something like that, started the town. So, it makes sense, I guess.”
While she was talking, a flash of her fingers unbuttoning my jeans in front of the bar distracted me. I’d gotten instant wood then and now, thinking about her hands on me.
“Uh oh.”
“Come here,” I said.
“That doesn’t sound like a request.”
“It isn’t.”
Zoe’s smile preceded her hopping up from the bar stool and sauntering around the bar. I’d have gone to her, but, even though the bar was dark, half of the bar front was glass. And it probably wouldn’t do for anyone to walk by and see me fucking my girlfriend on the first night I owned the place.
Because that’s exactly what I intended. And told Zoe so as she reached me.
“Do you remember that first text thread, when you were on the couch?” I asked her, not wasting any time. The second she was within arm’s reach, I grabbed her, pulled her toward me, and began to undo her jeans.
Zoe gasped and held on to my shoulders as I pushed both the jeans and her thong down low enough for access to the prize I sought.
“I do,” she said.
“When you gave me the go-ahead.” I slipped one finger inside her, groaning to feel her wet already. “With that fucking zero on a scale of one to ten.”
“On whether or not I’d get offended,” she said, eyes wide as I began to work her.
“Yup. Do you also remember what I said I would do to you if I could?”
Zoe’s breath was coming faster. She nodded but didn’t answer.
I reminded her. “I said I’d be pinning you against that couch with my fingers deep inside your pussy as I worked you until you screamed my name.”
“You did say that.”
I put a second finger inside her. And did not let up. Rubbing her with my other thumb, faster and faster, determined to hear my name on her lips, I told Zoe exactly what I wanted. “Do it, Zoe. Come for me. Scream my fucking name.”
“Oh my God, Nate.”
I circled, thrust inside and then retreated, all the while rubbing her clit at varying speeds. Not taking my eyes from her, I tried again. “Scream. My. Fucking. Name.”
“Holy shit, Nate,” she said. And then began to pulse ever so slightly. I didn’t let up. “Nate.”
“Louder.”
“Nate,” she screamed, coming.
Before she even finished, my pants were down, and I was inside her. This wasn’t going to be a long, drawn-out fucking. Being inside her as Zoe continued to throb, pressing up into her, my hands on the bar, essentially pinning her to it. . .
“Jesus. Christ.”
With one final thrust, the days of missing her, missing being inside her, the thought of losing her. . . I could not contain it. Didn’t want to. Coming as hard as any time in my life, I buried myself inside her.
Zoe’s arms wrapped around my shoulders, and I held her like that, inside her, so close to her, that it was a Herculean effort when I finally had to let her go.
“I guess we christened your bar,” she said, smiling, pulling up her pants.
“I guess we did.”
Once all fixed up, I pulled her to me again, kissing her.
“Can you imagine, all of this because of one little note,” she said when we broke apart.
“Because I was injured.”
“If you weren’t shot, we probably would not have met. Did you ever think of that?”
“I did. Was absolutely worth it.”
Zoe laughed. “You’re telling me if you had to do it all over again, you’d get ambushed and shot just to meet me?”
“What kind of fucking question is that? Of course, I would.”
“You’re a nut,” she said. “But my nut thankfully.”
“And you are my Zoe girl. Always will be. Tonight, tomorrow, forever.”
As it should be.