Read Sweet Imperfection Online
Authors: Libby Waterford
It was coming now, his name from a breathless place inside her. She chanted “Nate,” and he increased the pressure of his mouth, holding her tightly to him. On her broken cry of “Please,” he switched from licking to sucking, and her release came swiftly. Only then did he pull away from her warm, pliant body and fit a condom over his cock. Had it ever been this hard before for any woman, even when he’d been a rutting teenager?
He slid into her slowly, her passage incredibly wet and welcoming, and met her face-to-face. She wore a blissed-out smile, and he felt a surge of triumph, a swell of something like love, especially when she opened her eyes, kissed him on the mouth, and whispered, “You taste like me.”
Together, they moved, rising and falling, and even though he could tell she wanted it faster, harder, he kept up the measured rhythm until they were both close to the breaking point. Then he claimed her mouth in a kiss and pushed them both over the edge.
Emma woke slowly, cataloging her physical state as awareness seeped through her fuzzy brain. She was naked but not cold. Sun filtered through the industrial-issue, white plastic blinds and warmed the air. Dust motes danced above her. She was pleasantly sticky from her and Nate’s lovemaking, but there was a kink in her lower back from sleeping on half of a twin mattress all night. She sat up, alone in the bed. A hand run through her hair determined it was an unholy mess. Mascara crusted around her eyelashes. She probably looked like a scary clown, but she couldn’t care. She’d had sex with Nate Hirsch, and it had been fantastic. Twice.
Fantastic didn’t even really do it justice. It had been the best sex of her life. The first time had been so free and easy and fun. The second time had been on a whole other level, deep and wonderfully satisfying. She quivered, remembering the things he’d made her feel with his mouth and hands, following it up with the most deliciously restrained fucking that she hadn’t been able to help coming again and again and again.
He might be the perfect man.
She mulled over the night as she pulled on her clothes in haphazard fashion. What he’d told her about his ex-wife and the pregnancy had cut her to the core. She’d ached for him, hoped to comfort him, but it also brought up something in her own mind she still thought about with regularity. She’d have to tell him about it and soon, but confessions were less appealing in the light of the morning. Was it too much to ask for this sex-fueled idyll to last a little longer?
With that in mind, she left her valuables in his room and, not seeing the towel or bathrobe that had been hanging on the door the night before, used her powers of deduction to track him to the co-ed bathroom down the hall.
The bathroom consisted of toilet stalls on one side of a gray-tiled wall and several closed showers and sinks on the other. After using the facilities, Emma found her prey, a pair of sandal-clad feet behind the only shower in use. Not shy in the least, she slipped off her clothes and hung them up on the hook outside, left on her plastic flip-flops, gave a brief prayer of thanks for her last minute decision to throw a box of condoms into her suitcase, then slid into the stall.
“Mind if I join you?” She stepped under the water, enjoying the hot stream on her skin and the look of incredulous appreciation on Nate’s face.
“Not at all,” he said. “You’re not afraid of starting a scandal?”
“There’s no one else here. I never showered with anyone when I lived in the dorms. I always wanted to try it. These stalls are tinier than I remember,” she said matter-of-factly, taking the bar of soap from his hands and working up a lather.
“I never did either,” he said, not taking his gaze off her as she rubbed soap over her breasts and down her belly. “Um.” He cleared his throat. “Need any help?”
“Sure.” She offered him the bar and turned around. “You can do my back.”
She heard him chuckle softly over the spray and hiss of the water and let herself experience the thrill of his soapy hands running smoothly across her shoulders, lifting her hair out of the way to access her neck. He didn’t miss an inch, and he didn’t stint on effort either, massaging her shoulders until she moaned with the hedonistic pleasure of it. He left her bottom for last, soaping up her hips, her thighs, before smoothing his hands over the curves of her ass. She was thoroughly clean and thoroughly stimulated; as was he, she discovered when she turned around to face him. His penis was hard, curved upward in anticipation of reciprocation. She wanted to reciprocate badly, but maybe not in the way he had in mind when he offered back the soap.
She set it on the little ledge, gave him a naughty smile, and reached around the door to get a condom out of her pocket. Then she sank to her knees, not minding the cold hard tile underneath her when she saw she was face to, well, face with his erection. “Emma,” he said, his broken voice half pleading, half warning. “You don’t— Ahhh.”
She quickly rolled on the condom then took the tip of his cock in her mouth. The water beat down around them, enveloping her in warmth while her hands anchored to his hips to keep her steady. She slowly sucked down the length of him, taking him all the way into her mouth, until she was full of him. She relished the feeling of power as she sucked. He moaned and lifted his hips to give her better access. She cupped his balls with one hand and found her rhythm. His cock flowed in and out, and she sucked it down every time it came near her throat. He fit perfectly inside her here, too, just as he fit in her pussy. She was wet between her legs thinking of him sliding this beautiful, thick cock inside her. She wanted to tell him how much she loved his cock, but she didn’t want to stop until she’d gotten her fill and given him what she knew he wanted.
She quickened, and his breathing grew heavy, his thrusts more desperate. She’d never been so turned on in her life as when she felt the hot spurts of his cum fill the condom. She hoped the next time they did this, it could be just her mouth and his cock. She loved the way he groaned with pure pleasure the longer she kept sucking. She didn’t pull her mouth away even when his frantic thrusts stilled, and she felt his erection soften. Instead, she took her time, letting it slide out of her mouth, slow and wet.
Moving unhurriedly, Nate helped her to her feet and removed the latex sheath. She figured it would be a while before he’d be ready to address the ache of want that permeated her body, but the euphoric look on his face made it all worth it. She wasn’t prepared for the fierceness with which he suddenly kissed her, leaving her tile-gouged knees weak.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the perfect woman?” He released her and turned off the taps.
Emma’s playful smile died when she caught the look in his eyes. It was almost reverent, and the depth of emotion there seemed to go beyond mere sexual satisfaction. The bottom dropped out of her stomach. Maybe they were moving a little too fast. She couldn’t help how easy and natural everything was with him and how hot he made her. To keep things light, she put a hand on her hip and pouted. “I don’t have a towel.”
“We can share. Hell, you can have mine, and I’ll air dry. I owe you more than a towel after that.”
“Just paying my debts after last night. But I’m open to another round, Hirsch.”
He chuckled. “Give me an hour and a breakfast burrito, and I’m your man.”
Emma was beginning to wonder if Nate Hirsch was indeed the man she’d been looking for, which meant she had things to tell him before their relationship got even more intense.
***
Nate’s stomach growled appreciatively as he surveyed the breakfast buffet set up in the campus center. With Emma’s help, he felt he’d earned both bacon and sausage alongside hash browns and an omelet stuffed to the gills with veggies and cheese. He passed up the table piled high with pastries and went straight to the coffee bar, waiting his turn in line. He caught sight of Emma with her much more modest portion of oatmeal and eggs, claiming a spot at a table with some of their mutual reunion-year friends. She was smiling, and he found himself smiling along with her across the space of the room. It wasn’t only the incredible way she’d surprised him by showing up at his dorm room to give him the most exciting sex of his life. It was
her
. He was coming to know her on a level that he’d always craved and had never allowed himself before.
He dragged his attention back to the short menu behind the harried college-age kids who were manning the coffee bar. He already felt a little wired, but coffee was his morning ritual. It was nearly his turn when he heard a groan behind him.
Nate turned to see the familiar teddy-bear-like shape of his freshman roommate, Cory. “Hey, buddy. Rough night?”
Cory rubbed his red-rimmed eyes and peered dolefully at his friend. “Nate, you bastard, you look great. What, did you get laid last night?”
Nate grinned, and the kid behind the counter called for the next customer. “Here. You go first. It looks like you need it more than I do.”
Cory trundled forward and ordered a latte with three shots. “I went to a pre-party in Ashworth 10. They had a couple of kegs. Just like old times. Then I went to one of the frats. Man, I can’t even remember which one. It was crazy. Bunch of twenty-year-olds drinking rum and Cokes. I can’t do that shit anymore.”
Nate laughed. “Apparently not. How’s Lizzie?” he asked, inquiring after Cory’s beautiful wife, with whom he lived not far from Nate and Emma in Park Slope. The two men had been groomsmen at each other’s weddings, and Cory had taken him out for more than one consolation beer when things with Alison had gone to hell.
“She’s awesome. Made partner at her firm, which is why she had to bail on the reunion. We’re doing Fire Island for the Fourth. You in?”
“I’ll think about it, man,” Nate said. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he took it out to read a text. It was from Emma, who’d conscientiously programmed their numbers into their respective phones that morning.
Get me a coffee, black. Thx.
“I’ll have a medium black coffee and a nonfat latte, please,” Nate said when the kid behind the counter gave him a tired nod.
“Okay, who’s the girl?”
“What girl?” Nate tried, though he had never been able to hold out on his friend.
“The girl who’s texting you coffee orders and making you look like you just inherited ten thousand shares of Apple.”
“I ran into Emma Chen-Delvaux last night. We’ve been hanging out.” Nate didn’t trust himself to look right at Cory, so he stuck a piece of bacon in his mouth instead.
“Uh huh. ‘Hanging out.’
Nice
,” Cory said, his tone laced with congratulatory innuendo. “You always had a thing for her. Way to go, man.”
Nate chewed and swallowed. “Please. We’re friends. Relax.”
“Whatever, man.” Cory took a swig of his coffee. “I’m happy to see you smiling for once. That bitch Alison did a number on you, and it’s good to see you leaving her behind.”
Nate stilled. He could always count on Cory to tell it like it was, for better or worse. “Yeah. Well. Thanks.” He shifted his plate so he could grab both coffees and make his way back to Emma. He was starving and not only for breakfast.
“Let me help you,” Cory said, the spring suddenly back in his step.
Nate had visions of Cory cozying up to Emma, cracking some inappropriate comments. Emma could hold her own, but he didn’t want to expose her unnecessarily.
“Thanks, but I got it. You go eat. This bacon is ridiculously good.” Breakfast meats had always been a weakness of Cory’s.
“All right, I’ll let you off the hook this time. But when we get back to the city, I want details. Juicy ones.”
Nate shook his head, and Cory melted into the crowd of breakfast seekers. When he delivered Emma’s coffee, he was rewarded with a smile and the brush of her fingers against his as she grabbed the cup. Warmth spread through him, and he wondered fleetingly if maybe things weren’t going a little fast. He hadn’t been with anyone since Alison, and Cory’s not-so-subtle reminder that he’d been taking it easy for a reason had him wary of putting too much out there. But then he watched as Emma bantered with the other people at their table, including him in the conversation, yet not demanding anything from him. She was still his friend, despite their long absence from each other’s lives, despite the shared intimacies of the night before. All he had to do was keep things light, casual, and maybe he wouldn’t screw this up. Flirting had always come naturally to them both. They’d be able to leave reunion weekend as friends if not a whole lot more.
“So let me get this straight,” Nate said. “You bought a brownstone in Park Slope for how much? It’s either too good to be true, or you have insanely good real estate karma.”
“Well, it was a foreclosure. And a serious fixer-upper. I couldn’t even live in it for three months. I did the math, and with my budget, I’m going to be working on it for the next forty years or so. But it’s totally worth it. You’d love it. All original woodwork, in complete disrepair, of course, with lovely light in the morning. It’s got a really cool attic that I’d love to turn into a playroom or something one day.”
“Are you going to eat those?” He gestured to the unopened bag of chips that lay on the battered Peace Corps sweatshirt they were using as a picnic blanket. They sat halfway up the hill overlooking the green, surrounded by groups of people munching on brown-bag lunches provided by the university. Nate had devoured his sandwich, apple, and chips and was currently polishing off a brownie.
“As a matter of fact, I am,” Emma said, grabbing them possessively. “If you’re still hungry, I hear they have snacks at the art history seminar I want to go to.”
“I’m in.” He grinned at her, and she let the fluttery feeling that had been popping up in her gut all day bloom into more of a permanent ache. She was a sucker for the crinkles that surrounded his eyes when he smiled. He’d been smiling rather a lot today.
“Your place sounds like quite a find. I can’t wait to check it out, see where you are in the process. Maybe I can help you shave a few years off your estimate.”