Over the Fence (22 page)

The safety of the night was all around us. Kourtney was curled into my arms, and I stroked her back, keeping my touch light. Neither one of us had spoken much since I came to bed, automatically moving next to Kourtney, pulling her close. Her quiet sigh of happiness had made me smile when she had finally relaxed into my embrace.

“Chefgirl?”

“Hmm?”

“I was wondering . . .” I trailed off, unsure if I should ask her or not.

“What?”

“Could I, um, return the favor from earlier?”

I felt her stiffen.

“No. I’m fine. I wanted to do that for you.”

Leaning down, I found her lips in the darkness, dropping a warm kiss on them. “I’d like to do it for you, too.”

“I’m fine.”

“
Fine
. I don’t like that word.” I huffed.

She sighed. “Leave it alone, Nathan. Please.”

I leaned back, wanting to see her face. “No, I don’t think I want to.” A thought occurred to me. “Kourtney, are you . . . a virgin?”

“No.”

“Okay.” I felt both a sense of relief knowing what a huge responsibility that would be, and at the same time a pang of jealousy at the thought of someone else loving her.

“Do you, ah, not like sex?”

“I don’t know, Nathan. I don’t think I’m very good at it,” she admitted, the pain in her voice evident.

“Why would you say that?”

She sat up, pulling her legs to her chest in a defensive action that I was beginning to recognize. I sat up, and reached over to stroke her arm in a comforting manner. “Talk to me, Kourtney.”

She sighed, a sad sound in the room. “I didn’t have a boyfriend until my second year of University. I met Ryan a couple months after summer break. He was like me—kind of shy and not experienced. We became friends, and started dating. Neither of us really knew what we were doing, you know? I had no experience at all and he hadn’t had much more. We fumbled around a lot. It was awkward and not very, um, satisfying.”

I chuckled, despite the twinge of jealousy I was feeling. “We all have to start somewhere.”

“We had only slept together a few times when his father became ill and he had to go home.” She shifted her feet a little. “His father died and he never came back. He stayed and took over the family business he said he never wanted.”

“He didn’t want a long distance relationship?”

She shook her head in the darkness. “We were pretty new. He told me it was too hard for him to think of a long-term relationship with everything else he had going on. He felt, well, he said, I wasn’t important enough to him, yet, to make a decision like that. I understood what he meant.”

I smiled ruefully. Of course she did. I had the feeling she was never important enough in anyone’s life—until now.

“What about after?”

“I was shy and introverted. Plus, I was busy with school and working. I tried, but I wasn’t very good at the social thing.”

I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my tone. “You didn’t date anyone else? Ever?”

“One.” Her voice was tight.

I winced at the pain in the single word. “Sorry—I didn’t mean to bring up something painful from your past.”

She shrugged. “It turned out, he wasn’t very nice. We didn’t date long and we only slept together, ah, once. It was awful. He said he thought a fat girl would be grateful to get laid.” She laughed—the sound bitter. “And, according to the stories he spread around, apparently I was far better with my hands than I was in bed.” She turned her head in my direction. “You may have had the best of me, Nathan. Maybe you want to run while you can.”

I didn’t need to see her face to feel her hurt or the pain I knew I would see in her eyes. I lay down, pulling her to me. “First off, I’m not going anywhere. And second, he sounds like a selfish bastard, and a fucking lousy human being. He didn’t deserve you.” I hated the fact she had been hurt and embarrassed. “And you didn’t deserve to be treated like that. How did you handle it?”

“I had no choice really. I buried myself in schoolwork and ignored the whispering and laughter. Eventually, they got tired of trying to get a reaction out of me, and I was left alone. I decided it wasn’t worth trying to be something I wasn’t, and I gave up on the social aspect and concentrated on my studies.”

“You were young and inexperienced, Kourtney—and shy.” I nuzzled her hair. “You still are. It’s kind of endearing.”

She snorted in obvious disbelief.

I lifted her chin, wishing I could turn on the light and see her eyes. They were so expressive and I was learning fast they often said more than her words did. “And since then, has there been anyone else?”

“No.”

I sucked in a surprised breath.

“At all?”

“No.”

“I don’t understand how that’s even possible.”

Kourtney sighed. “Nathan—I’m not used to getting the sort of attention you give me. Growing up I was only ever ridiculed for how I look. I got used to the snide remarks about my height, my weight, my looks, especially my eyes. At University, things were different and yet they weren’t. I wasn’t shunned as much, but there were still more people willing to ignore me than there were to be a friend. Often, there were still nasty remarks and rude laughter when I left the room. I got used to being alone. I found it easier to hide than to be rejected all the time. I found if I stayed to myself I could almost be invisible. People . . .
men
. . . don’t usually have the same reaction you do.”

I hated the pain in her voice as she spoke of her past. “Is that why you didn’t want to meet me?”

“I didn’t want to see that look in your eyes. The disappointment of reality versus fantasy.” She confessed. “I’d seen it so much in my life already.”

“Did you see that look, Kourtney? From me?”

“No.”

“And you never will. I like what I see when I look at you.”

“I’m trying to get used to that, and how you think of me,” she admitted.

“I’ll keep reminding you.”

We were both silent as I traced circles on her back while her fingers played on my arm.

Hesitating, I took in a deep breath, but I had to ask. I felt I already knew the answer; however, I needed to hear her say it. I trailed a finger down her cheek. “Kourtney, have you ever had an orgasm?”

The sudden heat under my finger told me what she couldn’t. “Ever?” I breathed.

“Not with anyone. No. And when I, um, tried . . . yeah, well, I . . . um . . . no.”

Embarrassment colored her voice; I gathered her closer, hating to hear it. Her pain upset me, even if it came from the past. For a minute I didn’t say anything as I thought about what I
could
say, without sounding either like an arrogant prick—or an asshole.

“We’ll have to work on that.”

“Save yourself the trouble. I don’t think I’m built that way.”

I refused to believe she wasn’t responsive to sexual desire. I had felt her reaction to me when we were kissing. I had felt her heat when I thrust up into her. Her responses had been passionate, once she allowed herself to relax. She felt desire, of that I had no doubt. What she needed was the right person to help it burn.

I held her tight to me, teasing the sensitive skin behind her ear. I tugged the lobe between my lips, swirling my tongue on the sensitive skin. I smiled when I felt her involuntary shiver. I kept my mouth on her ear, murmuring, “I think I’m up for the challenge.”

“Nathan . . .”

I nipped sharply at her lobe. “Hush.”

“I might be a disappointment to you,” she whispered into my neck.

“Not even possible.”

I felt her entire body sag in defeat. I could feel her insecurities dwarfing her, and I hated it. “Together, Kourtney. We’ll take each step together, at whatever pace you need to,” I assured her encouragingly. “You trust me, right?”

“Yes, Nathan; I trust you.”

“Then know
nothing
you do will ever disappoint me. And giving you pleasure will be the greatest reward I could possibly ask from you.”

I lowered my voice. “I can’t wait to see you come. It’ll be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” I growled into her ear. “I know it.” I groaned against her skin as she shuddered. “See, Chefgirl—feel that sensation—and imagine it magnified ten thousand times.”

“You don’t play fair,” she breathed out.

“Nope.” I smirked. “Not when I really want something. And make no mistake. I want you.”

I was sure she whimpered. I pulled her down with me, drawing her face to mine, kissing her sweet mouth thoroughly. When I finally stopped, we were both panting. I dropped my head to her shoulder, struggling to calm myself. A grin broke out on my face and I snickered as I lay back down, pulling her to me.

“What?”

“Told you I wanted you panting in my ear.”

A small giggle burst from her lips. I brushed a kiss on her cheek, and nestled her close to me. I could sleep now.

She was smiling.

There was fire everywhere and I couldn’t get out. No matter where I turned, I was trapped—something pinning me in place. I had to get out; I had to find a way . . .

I struggled, releasing the seatbelt that was holding me in place. I had to find the door handle and get out, but then I heard it. A voice calling my name. Pleading with me to save her.

Kourtney.

Kourtney was trapped with me, somewhere in the smoke. I had to find her. I had to save us both.

The smoke became thicker. I struggled to get enough air in to call for her, desperate to find her, to help her, but I was fading, the darkness overwhelming me. Pain shot through my leg and I screamed.

I sat up, gasping, struggling at the weight pinning me down, holding me back from getting to Kourtney, then I realized it had been a dream. The same dream I had all the time, except this time she was there—Kourtney. I felt the gentle touch on my face and I stared down, blinking and confused as a light snapped on. I looked into Kourtney’s terrified expression.

“Nathan,” she murmured anxiously. “It’s okay, my love, I’m right here. You’re safe.” Her hands cupped my face and I felt the dampness on her palms. “I’m right here,” she crooned.

Shuddering, I yanked her to me and her arms wrapped around my neck. I dropped my head to her shoulder as she stroked my hair, whispering soft words of comfort into my ear. I felt my panic ease, my pulse returning to normal from Kourtney’s calming presence.

She drew back and grabbed the bottom of my shirt. “Arms up,” she commanded quietly.

“What?” My voice sounded weak, even to my own ears.

“You’re soaked, Nathan. We need to take your shirt off.”

“Oh.” Like a child, I raised my arms and allowed Kourtney to pull the damp shirt off me. She stood up and started walking away, and instantly I felt the panic swell. “Chefgirl, don’t go . . .”

She stopped. “I’m getting you a towel. Your pants are damp, too. Take them off.”

I half-grinned, trying to lighten the moment. “I knew that would happen sooner rather than later.”

She snorted as she came back from the bathroom. “One-track mind.” She quipped. “Stand up.”

Still unsteady, I did as she asked, feeling the towel pat the damp skin on my back, whisking away the moisture. “Turn around.”

I complied, watching as she patted down my arms and chest.

“You have a tattoo,” she commented; her soft breath wafting over my chest.

I nodded.

“What is it?”

I swallowed hard as she continued her ministrations. “In memory of my family. It’s all I have left of them.”

She traced the broken heart, her finger curling around the blood-filled teardrops at the bottom. “Did you have this done after you lost them?”

“Yes.”

She reached up, and her lips ghosted a feather-light caress on my skin. She had kissed the symbol that meant so much to me. My heart filled with warmth at the sweet gesture.

“There was an accident . . . and fire,” I began, closing my eyes for a moment at the painful memory.

“I’m sorry.”

“I have scars on my right leg.”

She hesitated, her hand still on my chest.

“You can look. It doesn’t bother me anymore,” I offered, wanting to share this secret part of myself with her, somehow knowing she would keep it safe.

She stepped back, and gazed at the scarred skin that ran down my leg. She wrapped her arms around my waist and I was held to her warmth. “Is that how you lost your family? In a fire?” It was a hesitant question before she brushed small kisses on my chest.

I held myself close to her, accepting her tender sympathy. “I lost everything that night, Kourtney.”

It was the closest to the truth I could share with her at the moment.

“The teardrops?”

“Each one represents a person I lost,” I explained. “People I loved.”

Her arms tightened. We stood in silence for a moment. Her grip loosened, her hand wrapping around mine as she led me to the chair. I watched, too weary to even offer helping. She efficiently stripped and changed the damp bedding, then lifted the light blanket for me, the same way I had done for her the other night. “I, ah, I don’t have anything else dry to change into.” I indicated my boxers. I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable.

“I think, contrary to what your ego may believe, Nat, I can handle you in your underwear.” She winked at me. “Your fine ass is, at least, covered.”