I arrive home from work after dinner with Nessa, and a black sedan with tinted windows pulls away from the front of our house. It’s out of place in our neighborhood, and it reminds me of another time when something was out of place. Deep in the woods, when the men popped up out of nowhere.
I wrap my arms around my chest and walk quickly up the driveway. Once inside, I lock the front door, unsettled. I’ve grown used to having Tyler around. There’s a sense of security to it. I can’t help but feel disappointed he’s not here, especially after what happened in the copy room. I’m not sure what the kiss meant today, or if his absence now says anything, but I’d like to know.
I take a shower and shave my legs. I’m totally not preparing for anything. It’s just that my legs are a forest. Basic girl hygiene is all this is. I smooth on vanilla-scented lotion and grab a pair of low-slung sleep shorts from the bedroom dresser, along with a sleep cami.
Towel-drying my hair, I leave it down. I could blow-dry it, but what if Tyler walks in and thinks I’m primping? The last thing I want is for him to think I’ve cleaned myself up for his benefit. His ego is inflated as it is. I don’t want him to think I’m waiting for him.
When he walks in, I’ll act as if he didn’t kiss the sense out of my head. That way, if he’s changed his mind about this kissing business, there’s no discomfort. On the outside I will be totally cool.
Inside, not so much.
I pull on ugly, fluffy sleep socks and kick my legs up on the couch, phone in hand. I could watch TV, but I need something to take my mind off Tyler. I open my poker app and check to see if SuperMom is connected. She’s an Oklahoma stay-at-home mom who kicks my ass weekly.
SuperMom is online, which is no surprise. I think she plays poker with whoever will participate while she takes care of the kids. I don’t let the “mom” in SuperMom fool me anymore. She’s sweet, but she’s a shark, so I’ll have to concentrate. Which is what I need. A good mind-number.
Six or seven hands in, I recognize the sound of Tyler’s Land Cruiser pulling into the drive. There goes my concentration.
Me: Gotta go, SuperMom.
SuperMom: Okay. Kids finally down. Stop by later if you have time for another ass-whooping.
She’s so modest. I needed another ass-kicking like I need more reasons to make an idiot of myself at work, but at least SuperMom is nice. I bet she’s a really cool mom. Mine hasn’t gotten in touch with me, and it’s what I expected. I was prepared for her silence, but it still hurts. This time, though, I’m not letting my pain take me down the wrong road. If my mother wants a relationship, she needs to meet me on fair terms.
I don’t move from my spot sprawled lengthwise on the couch, my legs crossed and resting above the armrest on the opposite end. I check my email, some Yahoo! sensational news posts, which I’m too distracted to focus on. Finally, the sound of the front door cracking open has my shoulders tensing. I immediately loosen them and click through another news article. I almost dropped my monthly data plan, but it’s the only extravagance I allow myself. My only connection to the outside world. I couldn’t let that go.
I hear Tyler close the door and sense him approaching the couch.
Finally, when I can’t take it anymore, I glance up—and can’t look away.
Tyler is standing above me in jeans and a T-shirt, staring at my bare legs. His gaze skims to my eyes.
Oh, shit. Mayday, mayday.
It’s on.
Tyler tosses his keys on the counter—same spot he always leaves them—without removing his gaze from my face.
He leans down and grips my ankle above my fluffy socks. I stare at his large, hot, electrifying hand as it slowly slides up my leg. My heart is racing, about to catapult from my chest, which is seesawing up and down because I can’t control my breathing. With his other hand, he reaches for my phone, which I realize I’m clutching like a knife, and gently pulls it away from me and sets it on the floor.
The hand on my leg makes its way to my hip, and a puff of air escapes my mouth. The urge to reach for him is excruciating, but if he wants this, he needs to make it happen. I won’t be the one to seduce him this time.
I stare into those pale blue eyes that are suddenly a lot darker, with the pupils covering most of the irises. Both of his hands are on my hips now, and he’s watching them as they glide up the sides of my waist, his thumbs slipping over my breasts, until his palms cover my chest above my raging heart, up to my neck, and finally to my jaw, which he cradles, staring at my lips.
I’m going out of my mind, crawling out of my skin. If he doesn’t kiss me soon, I don’t know how much longer I can keep from grabbing him.
Tyler leans down and his lips touch mine, so sweet, so tender, my entire body shakes. This kiss is different from the one in the copy room, which was hot and desperate, like water filling the cracks of a desert floor. This kiss is poignant, with so much longing behind each gentle brush.
I wrap my arm around his neck and pull him close, because I got the message. He wants this, and so do I.
Tyler braces a hand on the back of the couch and covers me with his body. My leg slips to the floor and his hips seat between my thighs. I can feel him hard and big against a very tender place that happens to be pulsing at the moment, but he doesn’t move or grind. He runs his fingers through my hair, thumbs rubbing my temples. “Mira…” He lets out a sigh, as if no more words need saying.
I feel cherished, and it’s nearly killing me. I want him so much, and I’m terrified of him at the same time. But I won’t allow fears I’ve harbored to control this moment.
I won’t hide how I feel this time.
His mouth seeks mine, but his lips are soft, his tongue twining and teasing. I run my hands down his sides to his thighs, where I grip him with the passion that’s been burning for so long.
Tyler groans in my mouth and slides his hand down my chest, over my breast, where he pauses to cup and run his thumb over my nipple. I wiggle, because it’s impossible to stay still when he does that. His hand moves down my waist to the hem of my top, and he pulls it up and over my head without hesitation.
That was my sleep cami, and I’m not wearing a bra.
It’s been a long time since I’ve done this, and I’m nervous. If I’m half naked, he needs to be too. “Take off your shirt,” I say.
Tyler braces his leg on the floor and reaches between his shoulder blades to pull his shirt over his head, immediately returning his mouth to mine. Only now we’re chest to chest, and I don’t think there’s anything in the world that feels better than Tyler’s warm skin against mine.
His fingers run over my shoulder, down my arm, to my hand, where he squeezes, warming that place in my heart I’ve protected. I kiss the slight indentation on his chin, the scruff that prickles my lips at the top of his throat, back to his mouth that’s soft and demanding. He kisses me like he’s worshipping my lips, the emotion pouring off him so intense, I nearly break away to catch my breath.
I don’t. I kiss him back with everything I’ve ever felt for him.
Tyler’s chest rises on a deep inhalation and he pulls away, shifting his weight, which makes us both wobble on the couch. His gaze is heated as he stares at me for long seconds, his eyes dark and intense—and if I’m reading it right—concerned. After a moment, he breaks eye contact to look around. “Where do you want to do this?”
This is really happening. He doesn’t ask if I’m sure, just to name the place. And oh, God, why is that so hot?
Then I remember Tyler hooking up with the last woman on this couch, which I attempt to flush from my mind, but now that it’s there…“Not here.”
“Your room.”
“No. Yours.” I want all of Tyler, his body, his heart…his bed. I don’t care that he’s in the loft. Better because it’s his space. All him.
He stands quickly and pulls me up. My chest is completely bare, and even though Tyler has seen it before, instinct has me covering myself.
He doesn’t say anything. He watches me slip off my socks and walk barefoot to the ladder. He quickly does the same with his shoes and socks, and follows me.
I feel him behind me as I climb, the heat of his body so close, his hand on the small of my bare back, protectively holding me in place. I scale the rest of the way and crawl across his bed, which takes up most of the loft floor.
Tyler slides to my side and tucks me up against him. His mouth is immediately on my lips, his hands tugging down my sleep shorts. I have one instant of hesitation. A spark of worry that this is all we’ll ever be to each other, the same concern I mentioned to Nessa earlier.
“Wait.” I push his chest with my hand, and he pulls back.
Tyler and I have only ever been lovers, never more. I want more. I stare at his handsome face, taking in the lines of his cheekbones, the strong chin, the beautiful eyes that are all emotion.
He kisses my cheek tenderly, studying my gaze. “Okay?”
His expression is so gentle, and if I’m reading it right, loving. He’s asking if I’m all right.
Nessa’s advice was to seize the moment. I haven’t been living, I’ve been surviving. This, right now, is living.
I wrap my arm around his back, press my lips to his, and pull him close.
Tyler’s hands return to my shorts, and he slips them off my body, the article disappearing off the side of the bed. The only barriers between us are my lacy boy shorts and his jeans.
I run my hands down the ripples and contoured muscles of his chest and arms. He’s not overly bulky, but his shape is so perfectly masculine, I can’t stop tracing my hands up and over his smooth skin—and down. I want to go down.
My fingers tug on the band of his jeans, to the snap at the front. Tyler rolls on his back, and I unfasten his pants. He pushes and kicks his jeans off and over the side, before his mouth returns to my body. This time on my chest, where he marks a path with his lips around my breast and nipple. He remains just shy of that sensitive peak and it’s killing me.
I arch and pull him closer. Tyler palms my ass and tucks me up against him, right where he’s hard and long, then wraps his mouth around my nipple, sucking and rolling the tip with his tongue.
Oh. My. God. He’s gained skills.
I should be upset about this, because it reminds me he’s been practicing on other women, but you know what? I can’t muster the energy to care. He feels amazing.
Tyler gives my other breast the same insane attention, his body rocking between my legs, making me crazy. “Tyler, I…” Want more. Now.
His response to the words I can’t voice is to run his mouth down the center of my stomach, over my panties, where he kisses me there, the naughty boy.
Some strangled, inarticulate sound escapes my mouth as he moves between my thighs. He spreads my legs and nuzzles the inside of my thigh, pressing soft kisses to extremely sensitive skin.
“Tyler,” I say, this time more insistent.
I feel him smile against my leg, and then my panties are sliding off my body. He shucks his boxer briefs, along with my undies, and plants kisses up my leg. I don’t know where he’s going with this, but he better get on with it because all that “expert” attention he’s giving me has me wanting things. Certain things. Inside me. Now.
Before I know what’s going on, a warm, wet tongue licks up the center of where my mind is expecting other parts of him to be. I gasp.
He looks up, his eyebrow quirked. “More?”
I stare at him because, oh my God, what is he doing to me? I’m going to melt into the mattress if he keeps this up. I actually have to wrench my brain back to the question.
Do I want him licking me there?
Considering how amazing that felt, um, yes. Please. Do I want him, after all the time we’ve been apart—emotionally, physically—to be inside me, connecting in the most intense way I can imagine? Yes. More so.
And then back to this other business I’ve heard so much about but have never personally experienced.
Because the only sex I’ve ever had was that one time with Tyler.
“I want you…inside me,” I say hesitantly.
His expression turns serious, as if my words bother him.
I gulp, panic rising in my chest. He can go back to what he was doing. I just want to feel connected to him.
Before I can ask what’s wrong, he’s climbing up my body, pressing me into the bed as he reaches for the bookshelf and opens a box. He fumbles around, then tears open a condom and slips it on.
Tyler settles between my legs and I can feel him there, right where I want him. Only, my body is shaking, and this time it’s from nerves. The last time Tyler and I did this, it didn’t end well. I mean, it felt good. But I wasn’t prepared for the emotions it brought.
His hands rest on either side of my head, his thumbs lightly brushing the arches of my cheekbones. He stares into my eyes and my worries drain away, because the look on his face is pure tenderness, maybe more. I don’t glance away. I want him to see how much he means to me. That this was never just sex.
Tyler rocks forward, moving inside me, and I’m all sensation, my head tilting back, arms gripping his shoulders. He feels large, the connection tight, but so good.
He dips to my neck and kisses a trail to my mouth, his lips moving urgently, the opposite of his body, which is slow and sensual.
I’m tingling everywhere, an urgency building where we’re connected. Tyler slips his hand between us, and rubs me in a spot that has me seeing stars.
I break off our kiss right as something rips through me, tearing me into a million pieces. My head rocks from side to side and I’m moaning. It’s too much, but I don’t want it to end, because I’ve never felt anything like it before.
Tyler’s pace picks up, and all I can do is hold on, my limbs still tingling from the wave that rocked me off my axis. Holy shit. Orgasms are my new favorite thing, right after Tyler. Well, he’s always been my favorite, but now I want him and orgasms. Because oh my God.
He’s peppering sweet kisses over my face, down my neck, until his eyes shut tightly and his body tenses, a deep moan escaping his lips.
I kiss his jaw, his mouth, until he collapses on top of me, his arms holding his body high enough so he doesn’t crush me. He’s heavy, but I love it. I love the feel of him above me, inside me. Close.
A wide grin spreads across my face as I snuggle into his neck and chest. I missed out on so much the last time we were together, too scared and worried about the feelings he’d evoked that night. But not this time. This time, I want to bask in what we just shared.
And I can’t wait to do this again. With an orgasm, because that was awesome. I didn’t know what I was missing.
I’m in a lulled state of happiness when I sense a shift. Tyler’s body hasn’t moved, but something has changed. And then he does move.
He sits up, his eyes flickering to me, without holding. “You okay?”
He said those same words after we had sex in high school, except this time, I really am okay.
“Yeah. You?” I smile, but Tyler’s expression is blank.
“I’m good, just hungry. Can I get you anything?”
I sit up, because he rolled off me and I really don’t want him to leave. I pull a sheet to my chest, not hiding the confusion on my face. “Um, okay.”
“Cool. Peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”
I nod, but something isn’t right.
Tyler ties off the condom and puts on his clothes. All his clothes. As if he’s not returning to bed. A fist clenches my chest, but I don’t say anything. I am frozen in fear.
Please don’t leave.
He climbs down the loft ladder and I hear him rustling around in the kitchen, opening the fridge, the cupboards. I chew nervously on my thumbnail, listening. After a couple of minutes, he climbs back up and sets a plate with a sandwich and a glass of milk by the bed. He remains on the ladder, running a hand through his thick, dark hair.
“Mira, I’ve gotta go. I made plans. I wasn’t expecting…Anyway, my friend is waiting for me.”
I look away, sucking in a breath to hold back the well of tears behind my eyes. Why is he doing this? Why?
“Sorry, I know it’s bad timing. I’ll see you later, though, okay?”
I don’t answer. I don’t look at him. I won’t tell him it’s okay, when it’s not. And he damn well knows it. I can hear it in his voice.
I listen to the sound of him climbing down the ladder. The closing of the front door is what sends the choking in my chest to the surface.
The largest tears I’ve ever shed drop to my cheeks. I curl into a ball on the bed, hiding my face in Tyler’s pillow, smelling him, loving him, and hating him at the same time.
After all we’ve been through, why would he do this?