Never Close Enough (7 page)

Chapter Nine

Ella

   On the drive to his house, Porter kept her hand securely in his.  It felt as if once he’d gotten ahold of it, he wasn’t going to let it go and that was definitely ok with her.  She wasn’t sure when she’d decided to lose herself in Porter, but somewhere
between the dress, and the door, and the dinner, she’d decided to let herself have one night.  She felt entitled to a rebound.  That’s what most twenty or thirty-somethings did after a break-up; they made rash decisions and spent one night with someone to ease the heartache.  But this felt different.  It didn’t feel like heartache and it didn’t feel like one night was going to be enough of Porter.

   The way his hands had captured her face, and how his arms seemed to mold around her body, and the way all h
er nerves seemed frazzled after one small kiss.  Not to mention how the one small kiss morphed into many deep interlaced kisses.  Ella caught herself blushing at the memory of the kisses they shared only a few moments ago.  She exhaled loudly, trying to shake the butterflies from her stomach.  She stole a glance at Porter and saw that he was wearing a small grin as well.  She felt him gently rub his thumb along her hand and the butterflies simply multiplied.

   Porter pulled onto a gravel drive that took th
em off the main road, and the road seemed to wind along, dodging trees and curving around coastal brush.  After a short drive a small house appeared and seemed to be the only house down the road.

   “Is this you?” Ella asked, pointing ahead at the house as
they neared.

   “Yup, this is my house.”

   Ella didn’t know exactly what she was expecting, but she was definitely taken by surprise when she saw his house.  It looked to be at least three stories high, the top half had shingled siding in a medium colored wood, while the bottom half was a warm forest green. The trim around the house was white, as well as the shutters.  There were two elegant wooden columns that held up the roof of the front porch.  The third floor boasted a very large picture window, and Ella thought that being so high up, there was probably a pretty awesome view of the ocean, which was just about a half mile from his road.  The house looked to be the perfect mixture of masculinity and femininity.  The colors were warm, but the angles were sharp.  The lines were clean, but it looked incredibly inviting.  “Porter, this house is amazing,” she said with unmasked sincerity and awe.

   “Thanks, I worked really hard on it.  There are still a few projects I want to complete, but it took quite a bi
t of work.”

   “Did you fix it up a lot?”

   “You could say that.  I built it from the ground up.”  Ella shot him a surprised look.

   “You
built
that house?”  She asked shocked.

   “Yeah.  I used the money I got from my father’s life insurance when I turn
ed eighteen and I bought the land.  Then I just spent the next couple years building it as I went.  I lived with my mom during the build, so most of my income went directly into the house, as well as all my free time.”

   “I’m not going to lie Porter, that
is incredibly sexy.”

   Porter laughed, “What is? My house?”

   “No.  The fact that you built it.”

   Porter shrugged his shoulders.  “It wasn’t that difficult.  This is what I do for a living.”

   “Porter, not everyone can build a house,” she said as she smiled at him.

   “Well, I don’t want to bring you here under false pretenses,” he had a huge smile on his face.  “I didn’t do any of the plumbing or electrical.”

   Ella laughed, “Ok, I guess in that case you’ve been bumped down to ‘mildly attractive’”.

   “Well, maybe I can improve my rating with the cheesecake I have inside.”

   “That is highly likely,” she said with a smile.

   They got out of the truck and Ella was still gripped by the beautiful house he had built.  There was definitely something ridi
culously sexy about a man who had built his house with his own hands.  She was sure it was programmed into a woman’s DNA to be attracted to a man who can provide shelter, but this was more than any fort or lean-to.  This was a piece of art, crafted by a man who obviously had the patience and commitment to see the project through.  There was something to be said for a man who was simply capable.  If he could build a freaking house, what
couldn’t
he do?  Probably very little.

   She followed him up to the fro
nt steps and watched him unlock his door.  She used the opportunity to admire him from the back.  Of course, there were the broad muscular shoulders that she had recently had the pleasure of rubbing her hands along while he kissed her senseless, but now she could also see the great ass in his jeans.  She had never really been one to longingly stare at a man or his backside, but Porter’s ass was worth staring at.  He walked into the house and flipped on the lights.

   Ella followed him into the house and was
lead into a great room that included a living room, dining room and kitchen.  She came into the living room with big, comfy, plush couches facing a large flat screen TV.  Past the living room was a state of the art kitchen with white cabinets, crown molding, and a large island in the middle with a light colored granite top.  To the left of the kitchen area was a smaller dining room with just a little table to seat four.  The bottom floor had light colored hard wood floors throughout, no curtains, and no pictures hanging on the wall.  It looked like a bachelor pad, but it was beautiful.

   “Wow,” Ella said as she walked around the big room.  “This is amazing Porter.  How long did it take you to build it?”

   “Well, I guess from the beginning to when it would have been sellable, it was about three years, but that was with just me doing most of the work.  I had help putting up the frame and pouring the foundation and all that, but it was mostly just me.  I would work all week, and then come out here at night and work until I couldn’t see straight.  I would come out on weekends, too.  Once it was essentially done, I would tweak things, or redo things all together, until I felt like it was just right.  Once I felt like there wasn’t really anything else for me to do, I started the boat.”

   “That’s right, the boat,” Ella remembered.  “Again, Porter, I am totally impressed.”

   “Wine?”  He asked from the kitchen.

   “Sure, that sounds great.”

   “Red or white?”

   “White, please.”  She wandered around the big living
room, looking at his handy work, thinking how beautiful everything was, but that a woman’s touch could really soften the place up.  She took a seat on one of his big-cushioned couches.  She smoothed her dress down her legs as he brought her the wine, placed a plate on the table with a slice of cheesecake on it, and sat down on the other side of the couch.  She took a sip and eyed him.  She gently rubbed the cushion next to her, signaling him to move closer to her.  He took a sip of wine, looking at her, gave her a smirk, and crooked his finger at her, asking her to make the move.  Ella laughed, rolled her eyes, and scooted over so that she was right next to him, smoothing out her dress again. 

   She took a sip of her wine and felt him tuck a loose strand o
f hair behind her ear.  Just that simple touch made everything simmer inside and she instinctively closed her eyes, relishing in his touch.  Trying to maintain a little composure, she opened her eyes and looked at him.  “So, do you cook in that magnificent kitchen?”

   Porter laughed, “No, not really.  I have limited cooking skills.  I can grill and I can handle a box of mac’n’cheese every now and then.  Anything more complicated than that, and I just either go out, or I head to the bar.”

   “So, you didn’t make this cheesecake?” Ella said with mock surprise motioning towards the cake on the table.

   “Nope, my mother made that.  Want a bite?”

   “Definitely.  I was lured here under the pretenses that there would be cheesecake,” she said laughing.

   “Then
cheesecake you will get,” Porter lifted the plate, scooped up a piece, and held the fork up to her mouth.  She took the bite and immediately closed her eyes as she groaned.

   “Oh my god, Porter.  That’s amazing,” she said as she chewed.  She heard him lau
gh and when she looked back up at him he was wearing a half grin, but his eyes looked darker.  She licked a piece of stray cake off her lip and she heard him inhale sharply.  The way he was looking at her was turning the simmering into a rapid boil.  “Here, let me,” Ella said.  She put her glass down, took the fork and plate from him, and fed him a bite.  He took it, but kept his eyes on hers as he chewed.  “Don’t you like it?” she asked, frowning at his unenthused reaction to what she deemed to be the best cheesecake she’d ever tasted.

   “It’s very good, but I’ve had it before.  And besides, you’re the most delicious thing on this couch.”  She watched as he put his wine down and then leaned over towards her.  She knew what was coming.  He hesitated just be
fore his lips met hers to give her the opportunity to stop him, but she simply closed the gap between them.  He was scooting closer to her and she could taste the cheesecake on his mouth.  He took the plate from her hand and placed it on the table all without breaking their contact.  Once both of their hands were free from obstacles, they immediately moved to exploring each other.  His hands, once again, were wrapped around her face, cradling her cheeks and urging her mouth closer to his, while hers were roaming up his chest and over his shoulders. 

   As she felt his shoulders, her hands ran into his jacket and she started sliding her hands down his arms urging the jacket off of him.  He wriggled out of it and dropped it on the floor.  He leaned forward an
d wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him, chest to chest, and her knees came to rest on the couch between his thighs.

   “I told you this dress was bad news, Ella,” he said as he moved to kiss the side of her neck.  “And I can’t get enou
gh of this spot here,” licking and sucking on the little curve where her neck met her shoulder.  He ran his hands up and down the sides of her body from her waist to her arms, his thumbs skimming over her breasts.  His mouth moved from her lips, to her neck, and back to her lips.  She couldn’t form any words, but she couldn’t help the whisper-quiet moans that escaped her.  Tiny whimpers that caught her off guard because she wasn’t in control, not even a little bit.  She was on some sort of sexual auto-pilot, and even though she could feel every tremble and every connection their bodies made, she was not the one making the decisions as to where her hands were roaming, or which part of his body she was kissing.  She was everywhere and nowhere.  And she loved it.

   He surprised her by grabbing her waist again, moving over her to lay her down along the couch, draping his body over hers.  The weight of his body was considerable, but felt safe and secure.  She reached her arms behind his back, up through his arms,
pulling him closer to her. His hand skimmed down her side again, but this time on the way back up, his slid his hand along her thigh pulling her dress up with it.  The coolness of her exposed skin was heated instantly by his large hand.  She couldn’t help but wonder if she should stop this before she regretted anything, but he seemed content where he was.  The longer he spent kissing and nuzzling the more relaxed she became with her new, more revealing dress.  She reminded herself that this was ok.  She had every right to enjoy this man who was obviously feasting upon her.  If anything, she deserved it.

   With new found courage, she found the hem of his shirt and started to glide her hands up his stomach and was astounded at what she felt under the fabric
of his shirt.  She pushed his mouth away, pulled up his shirt so she could see his stomach and asked, “Are you for real?”  His stomach was rock hard with absolutely no distinguishable roundness.  She knew he was in shape by the muscles she’s already drooled over, but this was ridiculous.

   He looked a little confused by the abrupt interruption of her question.

   “What do you mean?”

   “Um, I guess I’m just wondering why you look like some sort of god carved out of stone?” She asked seriously.

   “Like what you see, do you?” He smiled at her and flipped his nose on the tip of hers.  She blushed at his question, suddenly shy.

   “I can’t think of any complaints,” she smiled at him.

   “Hmmm, well, good,” he replied sinking down for another soft kiss.  He rested his elbows on either side of her head and used his hands to brush her wayward hair off her forehead.  He locked eyes with her and quietly asked, “Are you ok with all of this?”

   “What do you mean?” She whispered.

   “This.  Us.  Are you ok with all of this happening? I don’t want to rush you into anything you’re not ready for,” he said.

   “I’ve given myself permission for this one night,” she replied as she ran a hand through his silky hair.  She saw a strange look in his eyes.  She almost thought
it was a hint of anger, but it was gone as soon as it appeared.  He crashed his lips down on to hers again, his tongue taking wide sweeps through her mouth, dancing with hers.  She felt him inhale so deep, it seemed as if he was trying to get as much of her in his system as he could, to flood all of his senses.  He suddenly pulled away from her, so quickly it startled her.  He stood over her while she still lay sprawled out and half covered on the couch.  He reached a hand out to her.