The Absence of Olivia(77)

And that, to me, was almost the best part. Almost.

My favorite part of our encounter kept being replaced by the moment that followed directly after it.

I loved the way his hands threaded themselves through my hair.

I loved the way he groaned a little in the back of his throat when I ran my fingernails down his biceps.

I loved the way my hips tilted to meet his, to bring him closer to me than any other man had been in so long.

I loved how, I knew, even if everything between us was brand new, I’d never given anyone what I was about to give Nate, which was all of me.

“I need you in a bed,” he said suddenly, lifting off of me and taking my hand. I was pulled to my feet and led up the stairs, all the while watching the way each muscle in his back worked with those around it, a synchronized orchestra of sorts. It was hypnotizing and glorious. He pulled me into my room, didn’t bother to close the door, and then started with the kissing again.

The man could kiss.

He didn’t just kiss with his mouth. No. He kissed with his hands all over my body, with his breath panting heavily on my face, and with the most demanding and gifted tongue I’d ever encountered.

As he kissed me, his hands bunched up my dress, pulling it up higher and higher, until he was fisting the length of it in his hands at my thighs. He pulled his mouth from mine, stepped away slowly, and then inched the dress up and over my head. I closed my eyes, not able to handle the magnitude of the situation. I wasn’t sure I could handle it if the first thing I saw on his face when he took in my naked body was anything less than the bulgy cartoon eyes I remembered from Saturday mornings. No. I didn’t want to risk witnessing his disappointment.

I felt the fabric brush over my face. I lowered my arms to my sides, and then I stood in my bedroom in complete silence.

“Open your eyes, Lyn.” Nate’s voice was low and deep and rumbled through me. My eyes opened at his command and I was relieved to see what I imagined the opposite of disappointment would look like. He looked excited. His eyes were taking in each and every part of my body before rapidly moving on to the next. His fingers were moving back and forth just slightly as if they were itching to touch me. I watched as his chest expanded and fell in time with his breaths, which were coming fast.

When his eyes finally landed on me, he spoke.

“You’re so much more than I could have ever imagined.”

Without any thought, I looked down at my body, wondering what he saw that impressed him so. I, admittedly, had a critical eye. It was an occupational hazard. I saw shadows where there shouldn’t be shadows, and dimples where I hated seeing dimples. I saw pointy angles were others might only see elbows. The point was, whatever I was afraid Nate was seeing, he obviously wasn’t.

Thank you, Agent Provocateur.

He took the two steps back to me and gently placed his hands on my hips, his rough, calloused hands sending shivers all over me. One arm moved to wrap around my waist, lifting me off my feet, and my legs instinctively wrapped around his middle. He walked us to the bed, crawled across it, with my body still clinging to his, and then he gently lay me down. My hands immediately went to the closure of his jeans, pulling them open, button by button.

We were rapidly losing the few remaining pieces of clothing between us, but when we were both bare, skin to skin, my body seemed magnetized to his. I’d never experienced such a complete feeling as I did pressed up against Nate, feeling his hands wander over me, claim me, need me. It was intoxicating and beautiful all at the same time. Intoxicating because I wanted to die in that feeling, wanted to end on such a high that I’d never have to float back down, but beautiful because I knew he was just as high as I was. This wasn’t one-sided. This wasn’t forbidden or soul crushing. This was his body finally connecting with mine. And it was beautiful.





Epilogue


Six Months Later

“Are you nervous?” Nate’s voice pulled my gaze from the door at the end of the path.

“I shouldn’t be, but I am.” My answer was honest and raw, exactly the way I was with Nate all the time. The last six months had been an awakening to reality. Suddenly, I was in a functional, adult relationship where I got out whatever I put in. It was astounding.

If I was open, honest, and real with Nate, he gave it back to me. If I told him I loved him, he always loved me back. If I went out of my way to show him I was thinking of him, he made damn sure I knew he was thinking of me too. Six months in and I couldn’t imagine not being with him for the rest of my life, and because I was open and honest with him about it, I knew he felt the same way.

I didn’t miss the angst at all.

“This is going to be one of the best days of your life,” he whispered against the shell of my ear and on cue, I melted. I melted because he knew what the day meant to me, knew that it would be one of the best days of my life.

We made it to the door, hand in hand, and with a deep breath, I reached up and pushed the doorbell.

Within moments, I heard the sounds from inside the house that made tears form in my eyes and a lump lodge in my throat. Nate squeezed my hand, rubbing his thumb along my wrist.

The door opened and the world stopped spinning.

“Auntie Evie!” I knelt to the ground and small arms were wrapping around me.

Ruby and Jax smelled exactly the same. They felt exactly the same in my arms, but they did not look exactly the same.