Leaving Normal (36 page)

She encircled him, slowly pumping and moving. His hips arched, he moved slowly with her.

His hand found where she pulsed, touched, and his fingers went to the spot that stimulated her to the edge of sexual release. She hung on, not wanting to let go. Not yet. He stroked and rubbed, sucking on her nipple at the same time.

Time ceased to be measured. It dragged and ebbed, each of them touching and exploring one another. He felt like a part of her and there was no room to breathe, to think.

Natalie tingled everywhere. The jolt of his thigh against her pelvis ignited him, evoking a tremor.

His mouth broke free of her nipple and he kissed her, a half groan that smothered her lips. Everything inside her pulsed tightly, a consuming tenseness that begged to be unwound.

Her legs spread and she wanted him now, this second.

She'd never felt so slick, so ready.

"I have something in the nightstand." The words came out in a choppy breath. "I can't reach…you'll have to get it."

She didn't need to say what it was. Tony reached over her, opened the drawer and came out with the condom. Thankfully he didn't ask her to put it on him; he did so himself, quickly.

She just wanted him back beside her, in her, next to her, on top of her.

He was there and she gripped his buttocks as he lay over her, her legs opening wide and feeling him at her entrance. She arched her hips, moved higher, wanting so badly…

And then she felt the tip of him, hot and aroused.

He moved forward a little, not all the way inside. Torture.

His arms were braced on either side of her, his facial expression in deep control and concentration. She wanted to tell him to stop it, to just be inside her. Yet at the same time, it was the slowness of it all that drove her to near frenzy.

"More," was all she could utter.

He gave her slightly more. Then a little more.

Her legs rose and she hugged his hips, urging and . pushing herself to contain him completely. Until he obliged. With one long thrust, he was inside, and the gasp that left her throat couldn't be contained.

She struggled to regulate her breathing but failed miserably. On the brink of losing all control, she focused only on the face above hers. His eyes, their color. Briefly, they caught hers, then they closed.

His lips parted. A sheen of moisture covered his forehead.

He moved with a slow and rhythmic pressure that drove her forward, to the edge. She burned and throbbed, felt incredibly filled. The rotation of her hips grew faster, harder. She met him in the middle of each thrust, her hands moving down the length of his back.

There was no place between them that didn't touch, abrade, cause a pleasurable friction. She undulated, her flesh tightened around him.

The movement became less exploratory, more steady and stronger. She was on the edge, that place where she would be able to let herself go. She didn't want to hold back any longer.

Natalie reached for it and let go.

Her entire body convulsed around him as her nails sank into his shoulders, keeping him close, her legs locked around him.

Several more thrusts, and he sought his own pleasure, pulsing within her body and releasing. She closed her eyes to the overwhelming intensity of them being together.

He collapsed on top of her. A jagged breath left his lips in a low rasp as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

A moment later, he lifted his head and kissed her fully on the mouth. He didn't move; she wasn't ready for him to leave her and he knew. He still felt hot within her; a sensation she wanted to savor.

Trembling, she lifted a hand to his face. She spoke nothing. Didn't need to.

Everything she felt, but was unable to say, was reflected in Tony's eyes.

In the flickering light, listening to the thrum of his heart beating against hers, Natalie dared to embrace a truth she had tried to keep at bay.

She feared what had started out as sex would turn to a profound and intimate connection leaving her wanting more.

A lot more.

Premonitions

Natalie was late for work, missing an early-morning meeting with a vendor and forgetting her cell phone at home.

She never thought she'd oversleep with Tony next to her in bed. She hadn't slept all night with a man in so long, she figured she wouldn't doze off, much less drop off into a coma. So she hadn't set her alarm. Big mistake.

When she finally opened her eyes, the clock had read 7:45 a.m. Panic set in, then an instant awareness of the body beside her, an arm draped over her middle and a strong chest butted against her back.

She'd thrown off the covers and dashed for the shower. When she got out, the smell of coffee drifted through the house and the bed was empty.

She met Tony in the kitchen. He stood in his jeans, the top button undone. He'd slid his arms into his shirt but left the front open. His feet were bare.

"I have to leave right now," she'd said. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

She looped her purse through her arm, collected her briefcase containing invoices she'd been meaning to look over. "Can you lock the front door on your way out?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks." Adrenaline pulsed through her, she turned to leave then stopped. Facing Tony, she gave him a smile. She knew what she was about to say would be a huge mistake, a step in the wrong direction and a sure disaster…but she spoke it anyway. "Can I see you tonight?"

He flashed her a grin. "Count on it."

Careless pleasure had washed through her over his response. Then she'd dashed out of the house.

Her day proceeded at a frantic pace, the pressures of running a floral shop during a holiday really weighing her down. She barely had a moment to reflect on last night and how she felt about it.

Rather than spend a spare thought on the subject, she ran through the day getting things done. She rescheduled the meeting, placed orders, connected with her glass supplier, had to balance those invoices and pay bills. By closing time, she was exhausted.

Before pulling into her driveway at dusk, she glanced at Tony's house. The interior lights were on.

Last night had been incredible, amazing. She'd never felt so alive, so fulfilled. Just as she feared—or at the very least had tried to deny, there had been an emotional connection between a man and a woman. She supposed there simply was no sexual intimacy for her that wouldn't involve her heart.

Thinking about it, she realized she didn't want to be a one-night stand. She wanted more than that with him.

Conflict ran through her, sharp and painful. The picture was clear, but she preferred looking at the cloudy version. If she didn't view the whole truth, she could still see him, still fit herself in his arms…sleep next to him.

Natalie entered her home and switched on the lights.

In the kitchen, a bottle of wine sat on the island coun-tertop. It was one of her bottles. Tony must have taken it out of the wine rack. A note was taped to the bottle's front.

Bring this over when you get home.

Climbing the stairs, Natalie went into her bedroom and noticed the bed. It was made. The sheets had been rumpled this morning. Now the duvet was pulled up, the pillows plumped. Everything nice and neat as if two people hadn't slept together in it last night.

She took a shower and rinsed off makeup and the day's stress. She toweled dry, smoothed a light coat of moisturizer on her skin, then picked out a pair of jeans and a comfy sweater to wear.

Back downstairs, she snagged the bottle of wine, locked the front door behind her and walked across the street.

Lantern lights softly glowed from everyone's front yard, brightening her path. She knocked on Tony's door, feeling an instant's pleasure when he opened it and she saw him.

His height dominated the space, his dark hair appearing a little spiky and shorter since this morning. .

"Did you get a haircut?"

His masculine chin rose, that familiar gesture he made with a killer white smile. "Yeah."

"I noticed. I notice everything about you."

He wore dark jeans, a long-sleeved, black knit shirt that stretched over his chest and arms. He dressed in an effective manner; maybe he didn't see that the fit of a shirt emphasized all the muscles beneath it, but she did.

How did simply looking at him stir heat in her? Make her want to pull that shirt off over his head and…

She walked in, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, the bottle of wine dangling loosely in her grasp.

He kissed her back, a greeting that made her forget the busy pace of her day. Her arms tightened around him and she felt as if she were home.

The slow and hot punch of the kiss caused air to clog in her lungs, making breathing an effort. He tasted like cinnamon. The house smelled like something had been baking. A sugary sweetness that still lingered on Tony's lips.

"What have you been eating?" she asked against his mouth.

"Those cinnamon rolls out of the can."

She smiled against his lips. "Really?"

"I know how to cook."

"Is cracking open a can actually cooking?" She softly laughed, the vibration of her mouth against his sending a dart of heat through her.

He didn't reply, merely kissed her thoroughly until she felt unsteady on her feet. Passion roused in her so profoundly it almost troubled her that she could be affected this way by him.

When she looked into his eyes she was hoping she'd find a shadow of fear or hesitation to mirror her own. But it wasn't there. He was still confident as ever, the brown eyes gazing at her hooded and comfortable, if not sexual, along with that easy grin.

"What?" he asked, his forehead touching hers as he looked at her so very closely.

"You scare me," she uttered in a half whisper. Then repeated it just to make sure he heard her. "You scare me."

His heart drummed fast; she could feel it next to hers. He took her chin in his fingers, lifted it so that she was looking directly at him when he said, "You scare me, too."

"I do?"

"Hell, yeah."

She wasn't expecting him to say that. "I thought you knew what you were doing."

"Not even close. I like you, Natalie. I can see myself with you, but I know it's taking a chance to give you my heart. You're set one way and I'm set the other. I keep thinking there's got to be middle ground."

"I don't think there is."

"I'd like to keep trying to figure it out."

"But what if we do something stupid?"

"Like what?"

"Like…" She didn't want to say it aloud. "Like get too attached. One of us will get hurt. I don't want to hurt you, Tony."

"I think we're both in this too deep already. It's too late. If one of us walks away, the other's getting hurt."

She wondered if she could walk away. She tried to tell herself she wasn't even remotely attached. But after last night…after walking over here when she came home tonight—if that wasn't getting attached, she didn't know what was.

Even so, ever the one to reason, she tried to talk herself out of it.

"Well, if we quit now, the hurt won't be so bad."