16. Natalie
CHAPTER 16
NATALIE
T his is it. This is what we've been waiting for. The first tentative step toward something neither of us are sure of, but both desperately want.
A surge of determination wells up inside me. I stand, my movements fueled by a mix of nervous energy and a resolve that's been building since the moment our paths crossed again.
I lean across the desk, closing the space between us with unwavering purpose. The storm outside casts a wild dance of shadows across the office, mirroring the tumultuous emotions within me. My heart races as I reach for Julian’s hand, the contact electric, a tangible spark in the dark of the room.
"Julian," I start, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart, "I care about you. I don't want a fling. I want you.”
The vulnerability in admitting these words is almost painful, hanging between us like a delicate thread that could snap at any moment. Julian's eyes search mine, looking for the sincerity I feel pulsing through every word. For a moment, he just watches me, and I can almost hear his thoughts churning, weighing the risk against the pull of his own desires.
“I won’t be perfect either,” I continue when he doesn't offer an answer. “But I want to try. Together. If you do.”
In the next moment, Julian's expression shifts, hardening with resolve. "I do," he says simply, and with those words, the last barrier between us seems to dissolve.
Without another word, Julian leans forward, his movements decisive. He reaches across the desk, his hands finding mine with purpose. In one fluid motion, he pulls me around the desk to his chair, and my heart leaps into my throat as he guides me onto his lap, his movement bold but tender.
His arms encircle me, strong and sure, and I find myself wrapped up in the warmth of his embrace, the woodsy scent of him, the feel of him. The kiss he plants on my lips is deep, passionate, a seal over the promises we've just made. It's as if all the pent-up longing, all the tension and hesitation, are channeled into this one kiss, igniting a fire that had been simmering just below the surface all this time.
As I cling to Julian, the raw need in my movements softens under the gentle pressure of his lips. It’s so starkly different from this morning. His kiss is slow, tender—a marked contrast to the fierce, desperate kisses we've shared before.
Pulling back slightly, I search his face, looking for a sign, something that might explain the sudden shift in intensity. The look in his eyes is profound, a mix of longing and something akin to fear—a fear of not being enough, perhaps, or of failing despite his best intentions. His steel gaze holds mine, earnest and open, baring a vulnerability that he rarely shows.
"I'm not good at this," Julian confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't promise that things won't end in disaster; but I want to try, for you. I've never wanted so desperately to be good enough for someone."
His words resonate deeply, striking chords of both joy and trepidation within me. Here he is, laying bare his doubts and fears, yet still stepping forward into the unknown with me. It's more than I expected, more than I dared hope for after all the uncertainty.
"Julian," I begin, my voice thick with emotion, "we're stepping into this together, with all our fears and flaws. All we can do is try." My hand lifts to trace the line of his jaw, feeling the rough stubble beneath my fingers, grounding myself in this new, thrilling reality.
Encouraged by his honesty, I lean in and press my lips against his neck, kissing him with a careful, deliberate tenderness. My kisses trail downward, traveling the length of his neck, his collarbone, dipping beneath the collar of his t-shirt.
Julian exhales slowly at my kiss, his breath a warm release of the tension he's been carrying. His hand comes up to cradle the back of my head, his touch gentle, guiding me as if he treasures each contact, each moment we share.
I decide right then that I could spend hours simply kissing his skin, memorizing the feel of him under my lips, just to hear those little gasps.
His large hands slide from my waist to my back, slipping beneath the hem of my sweatshirt to roam upwards. I’m enveloped in his warmth, cherished and protected, and the feeling drives me back to his mouth. I open for him, letting his tongue dance with mine, letting him capture me completely.
Every kiss is savored, each caress cherished. The way Julian looks at me, with such profound tenderness and raw honesty, stirs something deep within me—a longing not just for passion, but for connection, for the assurance that we are indeed on the right path, however uncertain it may seem.
Feeling braver than ever, my hands find their way to the band that secures his hair at the nape of his neck, and I carefully remove it. His silky, dark locks fall free around his face, and for the first time, I'm able to pull my fingers through the full length of the strands.
I can feel Julian's lips stretch into a smile against mine before he speaks. “You really like my hair, huh?” he chuckles.
“Can you blame me?” I answer breathlessly. Then, to emphasize my point, I run my fingernails over his scalp, relishing his answering shiver.
“I like yours too,” Julian says darkly, grabbing a fistful of my hair at the root and giving it a gentle tug that sends a wave of desire rolling down my body. “Always have.”
With a gentle push on his chest, I release myself from Julian's grasp and sit myself upright. There's just enough room in this oversized chair for me to straddle his lap, and he readily accepts the shift in position, sliding his hands up my legs to cup my ass.
My hands now free, I quickly remove my sweatshirt, revealing the thin bralette underneath, and silently thanking the universe that I decided to wear cute underwear this morning.
Julian stifles a grunt as his eyes trail the length of my torso, then his lip fall to my shoulder, planting kiss after kiss along my bare skin as he makes his way down toward my breast. “You are absolutely gorgeous, you know that?” he murmurs.
I’m grateful that Julian is preoccupied enough not to notice the hot flush spreading over my face at his words. He kisses me over the fabric of my bralette once, twice, before closing his mouth around my covered nipple. The roughness of his tongue over the wet fabric draws an involuntary cry from my throat as the muscles in my core begin to stretch and clench.
I can't help but grind against him as Julian continues to tongue my nipple, occasionally biting my tender flesh. His hands are wrapped tightly around my waist, anchoring me down on his solid frame.
With a growl, he tears his lips away and brings them to my ear. His breath is warm against my skin, and I nearly collapse at the sound of his low and guttural voice.
“Take your pants off.”
I spring from his lap, quick to follow his command, and shimmy my sweats down to the floor. Just as I step out of them, Julian lifts his shirt over his head, revealing the glorious canvas I've previously only caught glimpses of.
His olive skin is stunning, stretched tight over his brawn, muscled torso. His broad shoulders and sculpted arms are all ornately decorated with ink just as beautiful as the frescoes I've spent hours restoring. Each piece as much a part of him as his eyes or his hands.
“Fuck, you're beautiful,” he says, but it's the same thing I was thinking about him.
In one step, Julian is out of the chair, closing the distance between us. His bare skin is warm against mine, shielding me from the chilly storm air as he begins to walk me backwards toward the couch.
In a flash, I’m on my back, Julian hovering above me like some dark angel cloaked in shadow. The pressure of his body on mine is so unfairly arousing that I can't stop the moan that slips out when he presses his thigh against my center.
And then all at once he's gone, the loss slicing over my skin like ice. I prop up on my elbows just in time to see Julian step out of his pants and kick them aside. My tongue feels swollen in my mouth and my throat painfully dry as I drag my eyes down the rest of his perfect body, lingering over the impressive bulge in his boxer briefs.
I’ve always wanted to see him like this, and I can’t even take the time to process it as reality. I want him too badly. I need Julian like I need my next breath.
He pauses for a moment, checking in. “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” I manage to whisper, reaching for him.
Julian takes my hand and rejoins me on the couch, settling his hips between my legs before burying his face in my neck. “Just tell me to stop at any point, okay?”
Using his hair for leverage, I tug his face back to mine. “I don't want you to stop,” I pant. “I want this. I want you.”
There's a flicker of something indiscernible in his eyes, and then he's everywhere: my breasts, my stomach, my thighs. Kissing me, tasting me, worshipping my body with his hands and mouth. His fingers find their way between my legs, discovering the damp cloth of my underwear. His expert ministrations—and the leftover tension from this morning's unfinished business—have me wet and wanting already. I'd be embarrassed if I weren’t so utterly consumed with desire.
Julian fixes me with an incapacitating stare, his dark eyes never leaving mine as he slowly, but deliberately, hooks his fingers around the waistband of my panties, dragging them down the length of my legs, and then tossing them to the floor.
My pussy is throbbing, aching, desperate to be filled with him, and the need only gets worse as Julian removes his own underwear. His cock matches his body perfectly; long and thick and beautiful. I reach out to touch him, wrapping my hand around his length, and shivering at the smoothness of his hot, delicate skin.
Another day, when I'm not seconds from exploding, I'm going to take my time exploring and admiring this part of Julian. But right now, I need him inside me.
Julian lowers himself back to me quickly and smoothly, uniting us with a kiss as he aligns himself at my entrance. My hips buck at the slightest touch from his head, and I feel as if I'm going crazy with need. The moment, filled with blazing anticipation, stretches on, blinding desperation mounting with every passing second.
“You're sure?” Julian asks one last time.
“Yes, dammit!” I cry, exasperated, and then he finally pushes inside.
The sound that escapes me is almost inhuman, driven by an overwhelming sensation of pleasure and relief. Julian's expression contorts into one of beautiful devastation as our bodies adjust to one another. The stretch of him inside me is almost painful, but in the very best way.
His unsteady breath as he finally begins to move floods me with satisfaction, knowing he's experiencing the same overwhelming gratification as I am. I rake my fingernails down his back as he finds his rhythm, and his head falls forward with a groan, his hair obscuring his face from view.
That won’t do. I'll be damned if I miss one second of his beautiful expressions. My hands immediately reach for his face, smoothing his sweaty hair away so I can enjoy the full view of him.
I’m on fire. From my palms down to the soles of my feet, every nerve in my body buzzes as we move together as one. Years— decades —of sexual tension and longing brought us to this moment. I've been wanting this, wanting him for so long that I can't hold back.
Julian's sighs answer my moans, both of us driving the other higher and closer to our release. Each thrust of his cock is more staggering than the last, and I feel the edge of my orgasm growing closer with every movement.
All at once it arrives in a sea of blinding white and otherworldly pleasure that renders me senseless. My muscles flutter around his length as I cling desperately to his shoulders, like I might literally fall apart without him holding me together.
Julian shudders above me as he follows, finding his own release inside me, hot and wild. If I wasn’t already coming, the delicious grunts of his orgasm would have sent me freefalling over the edge, without question.
After several moments, our bodies still, breath slowly returning to our lungs. My vision recovers and my gaze lands on Julian, flushed and glistening and beautiful. A wide smile breaks out across my lips, and an amusing sort of relief washes over me. I can't stop myself from laughing.
Julian chuckles quietly above me, my mirth infectious. “What?” he asks a bit nervously. “That bad?”
I shake my head, regaining my composure. “Exactly the opposite,” I assure him.
Carefully, Julian shifts so that he's lying beside me on the couch, one arm tucked protectively under my head. The other reaches over me, finding the small of my back, and drawing me closer to him and blanketing me in his natural warmth. His heart is pounding so hard in his chest that I can hear it as I snuggle into him, finding the perfect resting place between his chin and his shoulder.
“Fuck,” he breathes, another low chuckle reverberating in his throat. “I really needed that.”
I giggle against his skin, his words matching my sentiments exactly. “We both did,” I agree.
Pulling back slightly, Julian gently presses his lips against my forehead, a benediction to the near-religious experience we’ve just shared. But it's more than that. It's a silent promise of his feelings, our moving forward, of everything that's too much to put into words.
The air seems to settle around us as our heart rates return to normal. I hadn’t even realized the storm outside had begun to calm. Quiet raindrops patter against the roof comfortingly, and I feel so at ease, so safe, that I could fall asleep right here, held securely in Julian's embrace.
Looking up at him, searching his eyes, I see not just desire, but a kind of clarity. Things aren't perfect—far from it—but in his gaze, I find a reflection of my own hopes that we are moving in the right direction.
Julian glances at the window, then back at me. "I should get home to Aria," he says, his voice soft but steady. "She's a heavy sleeper, but she’ll be wondering about me if she wakes up."
Guilt surges through me in a wave, my body tensing. "She hasn't been alone this whole time, has she?" The thought of her home alone during this storm—and because of me—is gut-wrenching.
Julian just grins at me, running those long fingers through my hair. "No, angel. The sitter’s with her. She's never alone," he assures me.
I deflate in relief and nod, understanding his responsibility, yet feeling a pang of longing as our moment of closeness comes to an end. Then he adds something that sends a wave of happiness through me. "I think you're right about Jack. Maybe I'll reach out to him."
“I think that’s a great idea," I reply, my heart lifting. "He’ll really appreciate that. You both deserve a chance to set things right."
He smiles, a genuine, heartfelt expression that makes him look years younger, unburdened for the moment from the shadows of the past. We get dressed slowly, neither of us in a rush to end this.
As we step outside, the fresh, rain-cleaned air greets us, a crisp contrast to the stale air of the office. Julian walks me to my car, the residual clouds above parting to reveal the last blush of twilight. Our steps are unhurried in the comfortable silence that has settled between us.
Reaching my car, Julian turns to me. Delicately, his hands cup my face, and he places a sweet, gentle kiss on my lips. "Thank you, Nat. For everything tonight. For understanding."
I answer his kiss with one of my own. "Thank you for being open. For trusting me with your fears... and your hopes."
As Julian releases me, there’s a mutual understanding that, while there is much we both want, he needs time to process tonight's revelations. It's a maturity in our dynamic that I appreciate, especially his responsibility to his daughter, even if part of me yearns for him to stay longer.
Stretching up, I give him a final peck on the cheek. The action is tender, almost domestic in its simplicity, and it surprises me with its naturalness. "Tell Aria hi from me," I tell him, smiling up into his eyes, finding a flicker of something warm in them.
He grins, a soft, genuine expression that lights up his features. "I will. Thanks, angel."
As he crosses the parking lot to his own car, the gentle patter of rain on the pavement fills the space where his presence had been. I stand there watching him for a moment longer as he steps around a massive tree that looks like it barely missed hitting his vehicle. Talk about luck.
With a deep breath, I turn and settle into my own car, feeling the lingering warmth from Julian's goodbye and the cool rain melding into a sensation that feels bittersweet. Slipping into the driver's seat, I start the engine, the familiar purr a comforting sound in the quiet of the evening.
As I drive home, the road slick with rain, illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights, I reflect on the night. We both carry our own scars and fears, tonight has shown me that perhaps, together, we can find a way to heal, to build something lasting amidst the remnants.
Later that evening, as I’m heating up some soup, my phone rings. I glance at the screen to see Jack’s name illuminating the display. Curiosity mixes with mild panic. Does he somehow know what Julian and I did tonight?
I shake my head to clear away that irrational fear. My brother doesn’t have eyes everywhere. And even if he did, what’s he going to do, ground me?
“Hey,” I greet, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder.
“Nat, hey,” Jack’s voice comes through, sounding upbeat with an undercurrent of something that I can’t quite place. “I wanted to ask you—did you say something to Julian today?”
I pause, a spoon halfway to the pot.
“We talked a few times,” I reply, stirring the soup absentmindedly. “Why, did something happen?”
Jack chuckles softly, and I can almost picture the relieved smile on his face. “Well, he called me out of the blue. Said he wants to grab coffee next week to talk things over. He seemed... I don’t know, different. Open. Happy. What did you say to him?”
“Not much, really.” It's not a total lie. In all honestly, we spent more time doing something else than we did talking. “I just encouraged him to give fixing things between you guys another shot. I hope that's okay.”
“Of course it's okay. I'm really grateful, Nat,” Jack assures me.
A warm glow spreads through me at Jack’s words, a sense of satisfaction at having played even a small part in potentially mending a fractured friendship. “Well, that’s great to hear. But I didn’t do much, honestly. Julian’s been doing a lot of thinking, I guess. I'm glad that he reached out to you.”
“Yeah, me too,” Jack agrees, his tone contemplative. “I’ve missed him, you know? After everything that went down, I thought that was it. But maybe there’s a chance we could be friends again. If it all goes well.”
“I’m sure it will,” I say, encouragingly. “You both want to make things right, and that’s the most important step. Just be there for each other, talk things out. You’ll find your way back.”
“Thanks, Nat,” Jack says, and I can hear the genuine appreciation in his voice. “I hope you’re right. And hey, how about you? How are you doing with all... this?”
I laugh softly, the many emotions of the day forming into the only response my brain can process at the moment. “I’m getting there. It’s a process, you know? Tonight felt like a step in the right direction. For all of us, I think.”