RETRACE (7 page)

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Authors: Sigal Ehrlich

BOOK: RETRACE
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“Brazil does sound good,” he says, and his stare turns solemn. “I’m going to propose to Casey when we’re done.”

My eyes dart to his, and he nods in confirmation. Wow, Ben is going to really start his “grown up” life. I take two steps toward him and slap his back.

“That’s great, bro.”

 

I pace the vast landing of my living room for God knows how long. Same as always, whenever I don’t work or have my hands full with something, anything, I feel like a trapped animal in my own damn head. I step out to the balcony, place my forearms on the railing, and watch the evening as it slowly darkens. Inhaling deeply, I try to push out the thoughts that are threatening to infiltrate my mind, any moment now. Of the day both Ben and I were so anxious about. The day that turned out to be his last, and my last as my old self. The driven, content, and peaceful person I used to be. I need a distraction.

Perhaps I should call up one of my “friends,” those helpful ones who are always more than eager to let me release my temper in them. I run a mental list of candidates but no one really picks my attention, not enough for me to even bother to get my phone and call them. And with a thought of sex comes a very distracting one:

Nia.

Without over-thinking my next steps, I grab one of my most cherished scotch bottles, shove my keys and a condom in my cargos’ thigh pocket, ready to pay a neighborly visit. Not that I expect any warm welcome, or for her to even answer the door, but hell if it'll stop me from trying. I'm more than ready to deal with whatever she'll put out.

Standing before the door that’s exactly below mine, I knock and wait. It takes a substantial amount of time for a simple checking who's at the door to take place, which leads me to think she might be considering if she should open it at all. I grin at the peephole. Finally, a double click of a lock is heard. I’m not even remotely surprised that it’s not a smile I’m greeted with. I tilt my head and watch her frown at me for a suspended moment.

Damn she is hot.

Majorly. Smoking. Hot.

She has a light pink tank top on that looks more like second skin. Her tits, palm-size, full and perky, teasing under the almost see-through garment. And yoga pants that do an artful job of accentuating her sublime body. My lips tip at the edge as my grateful eyes meet hers. She reciprocates with an even colder glare. Yep, she definitely didn't appreciate my brush-off when Katie called. Nonetheless, there's nothing much I could have done, Katie was just moments from coming in. Explaining having female company after our last talk wasn't something I wished to subject her to. I’d never upset Katie, at least not deliberately.

Nia is nothing but hostile. Seems like the odds aren’t exactly playing in my favor. I slide my hand to my pocket, playing with the aluminium foil, reassuring: we’ll get there. I bring the bottle of Mortlach, a rare existence, from behind my back in a peace offering and smile suggestively.

“Can I come in?” I ask to her silence, shifting my stare behind her to look inside the apartment.

“Ehm… I'm not sure.” Her eyes narrow at me. “The thing is, I'm not so familiar with the assholery protocol…” Her smile is so exaggeratedly sweet, it scrunches her entire face to a ridiculous squinty-eye expression. “So I'm not sure, you see.” In one sentence, and one idiotic expression, she made me want in more than I wished for moments ago. I inwardly chuckle at the insane urge she just prompted in me to suck, bite, and kiss her lips senseless.

“Okay, I totally deserved that,” I say.

“Right.” The crinkles between her brows multiply.

“An intoxicating olive branch?” I bring the bottle forward, her eyes round in surprise as I pass her by and walk right into the apartment.

“Excuse me!” Her delicate voice climbs an octave.

“You’re excused.” I grin with my back to her, almost cracking up as I run a scenario in my head where I ask her next: “where’s the bedroom, babe?”

“God, you are a smug, condescending…” I turn back to flaring nostrils and mildly flushed cheeks.

“Listen, it was one of those bad news situations. I guess I was too quickly sucked into it. I apologise for the brush-off.” To my utter surprise, her irritation seems to deflate at once, and instead of asking me to get the hell out of her apartment, or give me the lecture of the century about being an asshole, she gestures with half a shrug for me to follow her to the open kitchen. With a content pull on my lips, I follow. My gaze on her ass could easily set it on fire. She has a small, toned, bouncy ass. Seductively perfect. My thoughts spontaneously conjure a scene in which I’m holding this same piece of supreme plumpness, naked though, from both sides as I poun…

“Ice?” She turns to lean her hip on the sink, catching me with my stare still fixated where the object of my brief fantasy was a second ago, licking my bottom lip. I raise my eyes, which are crinkled at the corners, trying to swallow my sexually enthralled smirk. Yeah, plenty of that,
ice
, inside my boxer-briefs, please. I shake my head as a response, biting inside my lips.

As Nia pours our drinks, I take the chance to take inventory of the place around me. I look for anything that will help me gather info on her while instinctively checking the best alternatives for an escape. Sick, yet entrenched. This place is half the size of mine. It’s small, but unique; somehow everything about the space says: Nia. Like her, the room oozes clean-cut, subtle, ease inducing, quiet beauty.

“Here.” She hands me a glass, still assessing me. I take the drink and nod.

“Nice place.”

She glances around, timidly smiles, and hums an agreement.

“Cheers.” I raise my glass.

“Cheers.” She brings her drink near her naturally reddish lips. In unison we sip back the amber liquid, our eyes firmly locked. Our stare is so powerful it brings a light color to Nia’s cheeks, causing her to cast her eyes down. I assume it’s her attempt to break the tension that in a blink of an eye became so thick between us. She starts toward the plush grey sofa. I follow suit.

I lean back into the sofa after setting my glass on the reclaimed wood coffee table that’s standing on a cream shaggy rug. I part my legs, slouching, my arms crossed behind my head. I watch her as she settles next to me with an unwelcomed guarded distance. She crosses her legs and covers them with a light blue, patterned throw pillow. Resting her hands on the pillow, she brings her eyes to meet mine. I smile at her and her lips quirk up… not enough, to my tasting.

“What are you doing here?” She asks next, her pointy nose slightly wrinkled.

My immediate response is a grin. Talk about straightforwardness, I like that. “Paying a friendly visit?” Her eyes narrow in blunt doubt. I raise my hands from behind my head in surrender. “I come in peace.” She huffs a short giggle.

“What if I told you I needed some company and decided you’d be perfect?” I lean forward to take my glass and swig it back, intentionally not looking at her.

“I don’t sleep with random guys.” The words practically gush out of her mouth. Her brows pucker, cheeks slightly flushed, but the determination in her eyes can’t be mistaken. I almost spit the contents of my mouth.

“Whoa.” I can’t help but let out a healthy chuckle. All of a sudden the condom in my pocket becomes more of an exciting challenge.

“Just making sure we’re on the same page.” She shrugs again, her eyes still hard.

I, on the other hand, can’t seem to calm my grin down. “Got it. I promise to try and get you to know me before…” I shake my head amused. She just rolls her eyes.

“You don’t have any personal knickknacks around,” I state, both really wishing to learn more about her and trying to stir the conversation away from awkward zone. Nia takes a short validating visual tour of the room and looks back at me.

“I guess. The only things that matter sit next to my bed.” I cock an eyebrow. “Which are none of your business,” she adds too quickly. I could happily live without the stay-back vibe she is emitting.

“Nia.” I scratch my bottom lip with my thumb. Her Hazel eyes grow as they trail to mine. “Can you just stop this thing you are trying so hard to pull off?” Her brows almost meet. “I said I’m sorry about how I ended things last time. I’m here to just spend time with a person who I think is pretty cool. I don’t have any hidden agendas.” I captivate her stare. Foil in pocket better kept undiscussed… “If I make you uncomfortable in any way and you don’t want me here, just say the word and I’ll leave, no hard feelings.” She heaves a long breath and finally her edgy demeanour mellows.

“Sorry for that. I want you to stay.” Her eyes coyly counter my solid ones.

I release a silent breath of relief. Just for the record, if she would have had asked me to leave, I would have had to convince her why it would have been a crime against her own wellbeing to not let me stay.

To lighten up the atmosphere I say, “So we stopped at where I was telling you how I fell for one of my clients.” I bring back our conversation where I made her laugh, just before Katie interrupted.

Her full lips instantly stretch, releasing a rolling sweet laugh. “Did you just continue from where we left off two days ago?”

My answer is an affirming side smile.

“God, you’re weird,” she says with an animated expression.

“Guess, I am…”

“How did you become a bodyguard anyway, it’s not exactly the most common job.” Her finger moves to trace the patterns on the pillow resting on her thighs.

“It was the natural course after I was done serving,” I say, my eyes wandering to line her gentle curves.

“Oh, so
you were
a soldier?” Her entire face lights up in curiosity and… excitement?

“Yes, one of the greatest honors of my young-ish life… I was a platoon leader in combat.”

“What made you decide to enlist in the first place?”

“It was a condition of my parole,” I deadpan. A healthy chuckle rolls off my mouth at her big eyes and “o” shaped mouth. I shake my head, my eyes still dancing. She counters with a brief snicker.

“It was something I always wanted. I guess the challenge, everything it stands for…” And moronic as it may sound, I thought it would have made the mother I never knew proud.

“What was it like?” Nia asks. I lift my eyes to her thoughtful hazel ones. “Being a solider?”

I slouch back onto the sofa, parting my legs wider. “Well, for the first half year you feel like a kid dressed up in uniform, following whatever everyone else is doing. Getting your ass scolded into submission.” My lips slightly quirk, “This was the hardest part for me, I wasn't a following the rules kind of guy before.” Unconsciously my finger moves over the little metal balls of the fine chain holding the dog tags that rest under my shirt.

“Were you scared, being in a combat zone?”

“Scared? No. It’s just changes you, when it becomes… your reality.”

“I can’t even imagine being in a situation where I am shot at. It sounds surreal,” she says pensively.

“Once you’ve faced live fire, when you’ve been in the field in the most chaotic situation, it feels real, very real. The moment you realise other people’s lives depend on you, and yours on them, it's when it all starts to make sense. It’s as if you mature overnight. You bond with these people, they become your brothers.”

I grip the chain and breathe through the wrench in my chest as it compresses. “When you understand you'd die for them, and they’ll do the same for you.” My voice fades out, my eyes cloud and with causal pretence move to look out the wide windows. A familiar smolder clots my throat, too quickly I drift to dark places. Places I never want to forget, yet fight to stay away from. My stare drifts to look at where warmness radiates to my skin, to Nia’s hand on my thigh. I slowly raise my eyes to hers.

“Reeves,” my name is a gentle whisper, “are you okay?” She leans toward me, her eyes soft and caressing. My brows pull in and I slightly cock my head, swallowed by her hazel softness. My gaze drifts south to her pouty lips, to watch her tongue moisten her bottom lip. My stare deepens at the erotic motion. Every other thought evaporates from my mind as I inch forward, my eyes moving from her stare that had slightly darkened to her lips and back. Her eyes take an anxious tone as my face reaches closer. In unison our lips slightly part. The small space between us fills with tension. I’m close enough for her subtle honey scent to reach me. I take a lung full to have it reach all the way through. We both slowly inch closer, and when her breath mingles with mine, I airily touch my lips to hers.

There’s a second of charged surprise between us, but quickly gears are shifted and the soft, brief connection turns into hasted conquering. Flesh to flesh, teeth to teeth, any control has left us as the barrier has been lifted. The first encounter of my tongue with hers can only be described as an overall feeling of being washed by sensual, electric rain. My fingers thread through her smooth hair, pushing her deeper into the trance our tongues have taken. We don’t kiss, we fight for more. To get deeper. To graze tighter. To consume the new territory. Wild attraction detonates all over us. Her hands rest on my bristled cheeks and for a long moment we both disappear into another dimension in which the only thing that matters is our physical connection.

A warning invades my enthralled pleasure: this is not just a carnal kiss, there’s something more. With every taste of the sweetness that’s her mouth, I know I should pull back and stop it. After a few more stolen moments, I reluctantly, slowly, inch back with my hand still holding her delicate neck. I lean my forehead to hers and inhale deeply, doing an immense job not to lunge my tongue back into her mouth and lay her back on the sofa. I leave a chaste kiss on her pointy nose instead, and stand up, heading to where I assume the bathroom is. Nia doesn’t speak, nor makes any effort to stop me.

I close the door behind me, find the sink, and splash cold water on my face. I prop my arms on the vanity and drop my head. There’s something about her that just makes me feel good, something I’m not willing to fuck up before I even have the time to explore. And I know, very well, that if I bed her I’ll screw it up. Like I always do. I adjust the swell inside my cargos, close my eyes, and take a few long mending breaths.

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