In the Nick of Time (49 page)

“Pushing so deep inside of you!” He tightened his grip on her neck as he worked it, propelling himself forward over and over. “Feeling you!” His teeth clamped as he stared down at the back of her head. Pausing briefly, he kissed it reverently, relishing the moment.

“More…” she uttered. She raised herself up a bit, trying to gain her bearings no doubt as he took over her damn body like he’d hand crafted it himself. Her moments of elevation were fleeting, for he forced her back down from his rough movements. “More!” she choked out—loud, clear.

He tightened his hold on her, wrapping his arms around her frame and gripping her shoulders as he humped and fucked her for dear life.

“Uh! uh uh!” His muscles seized, locked in a vise grip, then released him into a limp version of his prior self as he desperately tried to go the distance, keep himself afloat. “Uhhh….” His erection drove him forward; making him dig into her hard and fast, unable to control himself, pull himself back.

“…Drug addicts fall in love, too…”

That’s what’s happened here… No apologies… ever…

“Ahhhh!” He released her arm and moved his hand expertly between her thighs, never ceasing to pound within her. Lightly biting the side of her neck, and then a bit harder, he tasted the flavor of her perfume and grew impossibly hungrier for her.

“Mmmmm! Baby!”

He maneuvered his left pointer finger over her clit in circular motions, then counter clockwise, forcing the woman to buck and yell beneath his frame.

“Nick!”

Wanting to look into her eyes, not miss a thing, her flipped her ass around, causing a guttural groan to emit from the precious flower while he kept his pace, stayed within her, daring her to stop his flow. He curled a hand around her neck and intertwined their legs, lay on his side and took her with him, stealing her air, her heart, and inviting her to join him and become one.

And then his lips kinked in a satisfied smirk as the woman bucked against him, shaking from limb to limb, her beautiful lips parted but no words coming out…

Her eyes rolled and she exhaled as he continued to jostle her up and down, his dick slick with her juices.

“Uhhhh!” He closed his eyes, his full focus on working vigorously between her thighs, and the woman grinded and worked back. Then, in a sudden move, she turned back over onto her stomach, and again he mounted her from behind. He shoved his arms under hers, enveloping her in a protective hold as if she were some criminal he had to take down.

“Uhhhh! Fuck!” His balls constricted as he pounded over and over within her, made the woman squirm and yell and curse. Rivulets of sweat meandered down his face; meanwhile, he fell deeper into the abyss of her beauty. “Your pussy….shit!” He’d been rendered speechless, for she sheathed him like a well-fitted glove. The woman could take a dick, a long, hard stroke, and her pussy gave tender hugs and wet kisses to his cock, sending him over and beyond.

“You’re making me cum! Uhhh! Uh!” His hips bucked as his dick shot within her, and in reaction she arched her ass upward, sending him on a sudden joy ride as his cock was unrelenting, shooting inside her slick fortifications.

Leaning in close, he released his grip upon her, gently lowered his slightly quaking lips to her ears, and moved past the last bits of his orgasm to ensure that the woman heard him loud and clear…

“I’m so damn in love with you, Taryn, that if you even
think
about leaving me, I’ll read your mind and go fucking crazy!” He had no idea where the words came from, but they came and demanded to be heard. It was too late to explain, for there they were, out wandering about in the vulnerable open. His dick jerked within her right at that moment, as if suddenly alert after a long slumber. She stirred, and then laid her delicately on her back so he could lie pressed to her side, his leg wrapped around hers—something inside of him almost fearful to let her go. They looked into eachother’s eyes as he tried to swallow the big ball of reservations and vulnerability that constricted his tight throat. His body said things his mouth couldn’t and now, they’d caught up…

Tracing lazy loops over her silky, exposed flesh, he drifted in nondescript thought. Within, he ran away from the worries that threatened to do him in, and concentrated on the beauty before him. The side of her mouth curled in a slight smile.

“You’ve said it to me twice, now…”

“Said what to you twice?” Brow raised, he continued to draw along her arm.

“That drug addicts fall in love. Stop defining yourself that way.”

He went quiet and studied her as she contemplated the ceiling—the ceiling that kept them confined, contained, and controlled.

“But that’s what I am.”

“No, you’re more than that, Nick.” She cleared her throat and slowly turned towards him, outlining his chin with her soft finger. “You weren’t born an addict. You were born a baby, a little boy, with so much promise. You still have promise. Yeah.” She sat up a bit higher. “It’s important for us to accept that we have these challenges, regardless of how it all happened but we are
not
our addictions, and our addictions are not us. They are part of our lives, something that happened due to an outside stress that we were unable to manage. You’re a man, Nick, a
good
man…and that’s what I need for you to call yourself from here on out.”

He got ready to protest, to push her assertions away. He needed to feel badly, to feel undeserving and shit on the gift before him. If she took away his new calling card, what could he do? What could he be?

“When I fuck up again, I need to be able to blame it on this!” he blurted, his heartbeat escalating.

Instead of arguing, or becoming irate, she latched on tight to him and surrounded him with a warm, sweet femininity like no other.

“You’re not afraid you’ll fuck up again, Nick.” She pressed her lips firmly against the top of his head, as if crowning him the king of her heart. “You’re afraid that you’ll succeed…”

He paused, then nodded in agreement. The woman was right. For the longest, this was all he knew…

Now, so much had changed. At times, he knew exactly who he was, and at other times, he wasn’t certain whether he was coming or going. One thing
was
for sure though; he was madly in love with a woman that was also his best friend…

And it excited and scared the shit out of him, all at once…

T
aryn flipped another
page in the large, yellowed photo album. The old bench in the library squeaked beneath their weight. She looked down at the tiny foil ring Nick had presented to her a few days earlier and the sight of it on her third finger both endeared her to him and cracked her up. He’d said it was his way of promising her the future would only get better, so she graciously accepted the thing, teasing him with, “And I can keep my leftover chicken in it, too!”

“This is so old school.” She laughed. “A photo album… My mother dropped this off the other day. I figured I may as well humiliate myself while in the midst of good company.”

Nick chuckled as he studied first the photos, then her. Out the corner of her eye, she caught his hooded eyes taking her in. Other than these quick, fleeting moments, he’d been acting fairly upbeat. Honestly, she wasn’t certain how to take it. On one hand, she felt guilty for wanting the guy to break down a bit, profess his fears. She knew he wasn’t that type of man, and if it ever were to occur, he’d more than likely be at his breaking point. That’s not what she’d intended, either. He was full of good cheer, good news, good vibes, and good words of encouragement. It was almost too
good
to be true. The boy played hide-and-seek well, hiding in his own skin.

She turned another page, and their eyes landed on her eighth grade school photo at the same time. The man burst out laughing so hard, the vein on the side of his throat constricted. He leaned to the far left, holding his gut as if suddenly unable to catch his breath.

“You can chill with that; it wasn’t
THAT
funny, okay?” Her lower lip quivered as she kept her own urge to giggle at bay.

The man paused, looked back down at it, and started up all over again.

“Look, it was an awkward time for me, okay?” She burst out laughing, unable to hold it in a second longer. Truth was, her odd shepherd dog bangs in the picture seemed to swallow her entire head, though they did offer comic relief.

“Forget the hair… That…that sweater! Isn’t it the same one Bert wears on Sesame Street?”

“You ass!” She chortled as she took a closer glance. Sure enough, it did look Bert-esque.

“Oh boy.” He ran his hand down his face and leaned back, his eyes filled with mirth and glossy from losing himself in the hilarity of it all. “Don’t worry, I promise to show you photos of me, too, whenever the opportunity arises,” he said with a wink.

“You know, this feels really good.” She pushed the book over both of their laps to hide a need to hold the man’s hand. Covered under the cool hardness of the book’s binding, her knuckles grazed the thing as she intertwined their fingers, gripping him just so. “These were good times in my life.” She looked down at the photo once more. “I took them for granted.”

“How old were you back then? Like, fourteen?”

“Yeah, maybe thirteen going on fourteen.”

“All jokes aside, you were cute… If I’d see you around my neighborhood back in the day, I woulda tried to hit it.”

She burst out laughing and playfully stuck her tongue out at him. “What did you look like at fourteen, huh? I bet you were cute.”

“Ha!” His dark, thick brows dipped as he leaned forward, looked around him, and then right back at her. His smile slipped ever so slowly from his expression, and he turned serious,
quite
serious. Biting into his lower lip, he bobbed his head up and down as if fighting the urge to go the hell off. Then, his shoulders slumped and he leaned leisurely back, crossed his ankles just so.

“I was skinny.”

“And?”

He traced the facial hair along his chin with the side of his finger, as if trying with all of his might to recall the shit.

“I wore a lot of ball caps, snapbacks. I wore white t-shirts in the summer, and black long sleeved ones in the winter. I drew tattoos on myself with stolen permanent markers from the school supplies aisle in the drug store. I looked like a kid…a kid trying to be a grown man…”

“Well.” She leaned in closer to him, taking in his beautiful, masculine scent. “There’s nothing childlike about you
now
…”

His eyes gleamed and glimmered, as if she’d set a fire within him.

“Yeah, sometimes I feel like I wasted a lot of time trying to be older than I was… Shoulda enjoyed being a kid.” His brow bunched a bit as he toyed with the elastic of his white footie sock jammed into his sneaker. “One thing though, I’m about my business, Taryn… Speaking of which, I know you don’t need it, but now that we’re together, you need to understand how I like to do things.”

“How you like to do things?” she asked, brow raised. “What are you talking about?”

“I want to take care of you.”

“What?” She tossed her head back and laughed. “Now you sound like my father. I don’t need—”