CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Nick
Six years.
Marcy has waited six years to take a chance on someone, and that someone is me. My first attempt at a serious relationship, with a woman I couldn’t admire more, and the stakes are even higher than I realized.
I can’t fuck this up.
I am seriously regretting having told her that I would try and sleep with her after dinner.
The yesterday version of me thought I was being flirtatious and teasing, but now I realize that I put unnecessary pressure on this evening.
God, I hope she doesn’t feel coerced to do anything because of my big mouth.
This woman deserves to be wooed, deserves to take her time before jumping into something.
Now the hook-up on my desk is feeling…well it was still the hottest thing to ever happen to me, who am I kidding? No regrets.
Our energy shifts from serious and significant to engulfing by the end of dinner, with no mistaking that we are both experiencing it.
The reminder of our time in my office yesterday, her vulnerability, and the admission regarding how long it’s been since she has been touched by anyone has set my skin on fire.
I have never felt so connected to a person, both of us aware of where our emotional exposures lie, and the trust that requires us to place in one another.
“This way,” I take her hand, the key to Carlos’s Cupcake shop jingling in my pocket as we walk.
Her palm is warm in mine, the scent of her pummeling my senses with each whip of her curls as we stride out of the square.
The shop is only a block away, and I am trying to use this time to calm down, remind my cock who is in charge tonight.
“Cupcakes, I knew it!” She is fucking luminous in the streetlights guiding us down the street, and I stand corrected, my cock may actually be in charge tonight.
No! Slow down.
“I might have been tipped off that they are your favorite, and Carlos left us a special experience for tonight.” I unlock the door, although she is quickly the one dragging us inside.
Placing my hand on her lower back, I guide her toward the rear of the shop and into the kitchen.
There is a tray waiting for us in one of his refrigerators with unfrosted cupcakes and several different frosting bags.
“Tonight, we get to make our own. Whatever flavor combinations you want.” She stands at the counter in the center of the kitchen, assessing her choices, hair falling over her shoulders, and that collarbone I can’t get enough of on full display.
“This is so much fun! Thank you, Nick.” My insides twist further when she says my name like that. Like she means it, like it means something coming out of her mouth.
“You’re welcome, now make some choices.”
“You are a bit bossy; ya know?” she laughs at me and starts icing a vanilla cupcake with some coconut cream cheese frosting.
“You have no idea how bossy I can be.” I swing around the counter and come up behind her, sticking my face in the hair resting on her neck.
I put hands on either side of her, leaning into the counter with my chest flush against her back.
She tenses, so I start to pull away, a reminder to go slow, and maybe that was too forward.
I’m not used to feeling so unsure about the next move, but I am very sure that my body was mourning the loss of her heat.
“I would like to find out.” She says with a sultry inflection to her voice, pressing herself back into my chest. Message received; I stop retreating.
I keep her caged with my chest and arms, and she spins around to face me, holding her cupcake.
She’s staring me down, slowly licking the frosting off her cupcake.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my eyes unable to focus on anything but the way her tongue is manipulating the icing.
“Licking.” This teasing side of her isn’t something I have experienced yet, and it weakens my knees, a sensation I thought was invented in the movies until this moment. I feel the back of my neck heat.
“Licking.” I repeat like she’s teaching me English. She dips her finger in the frosting, and then sucks it lightly off her finger. I’m hard. So hard, I shift my hips back slightly to make sure she can’t tell that I am practically a 15-year-old around her. I want her to find out, but not yet.
“You want to try my frosting, Nick?” Fuck. I nod slowly in case any sudden movements wake her up from whatever seductive trance she is in. Knowing that this is a side of her that no one has seen in a long time is only adding to the pressure in my jeans.
“Immediately.” She dips her finger in her frosting again, holding it up for me to try.
My mouth wraps around her and I gently use my tongue to massage the cream down my throat.
Her eyes are glassy, and she is fixated on my mouth.
I am obsessing about her lips; the bottom one she is now gently biting.
I suck off the last of the sugar and our eyes meet, hers fluttering ever so slightly.
We are both breathing recklessly now, our chests rising and falling to their own rhythms, skin flushed.
The taste of her finger in my mouth is a torturous tease.
I’m paralyzed, any more physical contact with her and I may lose all control, but I don’t want to have her for the first time in this kitchen.
I told myself I would go slow, although she keeps challenging that idea.
I also respect Carlos too much, and the things I am thinking about doing to her would violate several health codes.
“My apartment is two blocks from here.” I hear her say.
“Yes…I remember. I was thinking…six years, Marcy. Maybe we should take things slower? Wouldn’t that make more sense?” She looks at me like I dumped ice water on her.
“Right, six fucking years Nick.” Oh, I annoyed her. “…and we have been dancing around each other going on months. I am happy to take things slow if that is really what you want, but I would like to take you home.” That’s all the convincing I needed.
“We should go there. I mean…is it okay if I come?...Come over! God. Damn it.” I am really flushed now; my vision is nearly blurry. Not to brag, but I am never not the picture of the confidence when bringing a woman home. Right now, I can’t find my feet.
“Yes Nick, you can come…over.” I might pass out.
She giggles, clearly understanding what she is doing to me.
I take the cupcake tray and put it next to the sink like Carlos asked.
Taking Marcy’s hand, we head back toward the door and out onto the street, locking the door behind us.
By now, it’s dark and the streetlights guide our way.
In a small town like this, most people have turned in for the night.
We aren’t walking by the bar, so we are alone.
We have barely said any words to each other since I sucked frosting off her fingers, a new highlight of my entire life.
“Marcy, I’m walking you home. I know it has been a long time since you have been with someone, are you sure want it to be me?” She pauses, seeming to register what I am asking her, my self-doubt rearing its ugly head.
“Yes Nick, I want it to be you. I don’t care how your parents make you feel about yourself; I know you are worth the risk of getting hurt for something great.
” She makes the statement without hesitation.
I stop her and turn her towards me, only one block from her place now.
Put my hand under her chin so that I am staring directly into her eyes.
“I’m asking you Marcy because I am afraid once I have you, I won’t be able to let go.
I had to fix your car to know you were safe, and that was before I felt your tongue on mine.
It’s unsettling what I want when it comes to you, and I need you to be aware of that.
I want all of you, and I don’t want to share you.
Is that what you want too?” I can’t believe these thoughts are coming out of me, never in my life have I felt so covetous, and so vulnerable.
I’d be embarrassed at my honesty if this were anyone but her.
She pauses, searching my face for something I can’t pinpoint.
“Nick, you weren’t even mine when Isabel walked into your office that day, and the flare of jealousy that radiated through me was unbearable.
I’m afraid I may be as needy as you will be once we are together.
” The relief that flows through me is palpable.
“So, we are both afraid that we might want the other too much?” I clarify.
“That’s what it sounds like.” She’s beaming at me. “It also sounds like a great start to some codependency issues between us, so we should keep that in check.” Ugh, this woman is great. I can’t wait for couples therapy with her.
“Thank you for that advice. Should we start a search for our Marriage and Family Therapist tonight, or do you think we should wait on that?” I smile, thinking I’m so funny.
“No, tonight I would still like to see what the hype is about.” Oh shit.
“What hype is that exactly?” I ask innocently.
“Well, the nurses, they talk. I got a preview in your office, but you have some fans in the nursing grape vine as I am sure you know,” which makes me blush.
Guilty. “I believe Annie said the feedback is, ‘five stars, no notes.’” She stares me down like a challenge.
This confident and sexy side of her continuing to surprise me.
She keeps making it clear what she wants, and more likely what she needs.
“Then I think we should keep walking, see if I can add another five star review to the grape vine. Can social workers contribute?”
“Occasionally the social workers contribute.” I can’t get enough of the way she keeps looking at me, flirty and infallible. I’m not used to the lack of control in the situation, and I decide to take a little back.
We turn to start walking toward her apartment, and rather than grab her hand, I dip my body and pick her up, holding her like we heading toward some threshold. “Nick!” she squeals my name in a complaint that’s contradictory to the way she is instinctively curling into my chest.
“You said you wanted to go to your place, let’s go.” This time I’m whispering that into her ear, and I feel her tension release in my arms.
Walking with her pressed against me feels so sweet, a feeling I have been dreaming about since catching her in my arms on the bridge.
It’s just me holding her in the quiet of this dreamy and sparkling street, and it feels so extraordinary.
Another memory from this evening that I will hold onto forever.
We arrive at the door to her apartment steps, and I place her down so she can unlock it.
From behind her, I remove her curls from one side of her neck and start to kiss her gently on the skin that’s now exposed.
She starts to fumble with her keys, and it only encourages me.
I move down to her collarbone, and continue with slow kisses and a gentle nibble that makes one of her knees buckle. Success.
“Oh my god. This damn key,” She’s completely flustered.
“Is it the keys fault?” I murmur against her.
“You know it isn’t.” With that short break in my kisses, she gets the door open, and I follow her up the stairs. I have never been this nervous with a woman, butterflies battering my stomach. The sensation is more thrilling than anything I have experienced.
We enter her apartment, and I am taken aback.
It’s her. It’s warm and inviting and I can see several spots that make me want to curl up with her and spend a lifetime.
Everything is soft and dimly lit, and I see that my last surprise has fallen into place, as she opens the door to her bedroom and gasps. “How?”
Her room is lit entirely by candlelight (battery operated), courtesy of a little help from Annie.
It’s bright enough to see each other, but even more romantic than I pictured now that I know she has a wrought iron bed.
Her room looks like it is out of one of her romance novels, and I am suddenly wondering if this is too much.
“Annie helped me with this, I hope it is not too cheesy.”
She is just staring into her room, back at me, saying nothing. Twisting those rings on her fingers, and yet again making me wonder if I am doing the right thing when it comes to her.
“I didn’t mean to assume you would bring me up. I know how sacred your space is to you. Obviously, I hoped you would. I wanted you to have a little romance, even if ended up not involving me tonight,” I explain. She’s still quiet.
I give her time to process the space and having me in it.
I start to realize that maybe her confidence is wavering, and I was right about this being too fast. She hasn’t been with a man in six years and here I am, in her apartment after our first official date, making assumptions about things she would find romantic.
Having an even better understanding of her anxiety after all she shared with me tonight, I can see this was a probably a large miscalculation on my part.
“How about you enjoy the ambiance on your own tonight and get some rest? You can call me tomorrow? I had an amazing time, and I want to see you again as soon as you will let me. Breakfast tomorrow?” I hear myself say as I step to her and kiss her on the forehead.
“Wait, don’t go.” She reaches out and grabs my arm, then moves her hand down to my palm and entwines our fingers together.
“I don’t mean to be quiet, this whole evening has been dreamy, so perfect, it’s just overwhelming me.
Not in a bad way, I am just taking time to remember it all, remember how you were with me. I want you here. Please stay.”
“That sounds like a much better plan.” My entire body shuddering in a relief.