I hug the tiny stuffed bear Nate had won for me by throwing darts at balloons.
“Hey, that’s all part of the package deal, isn’t it? I have to win stuffed animals for you, or I’m not really a man. It’s in the handbook.”
We laugh together.
“Do you want some wine?” I ask.
“Is it the dollar store stuff?”
“It is.”
“I suppose so. Do you have any peanut butter to go with it?”
“Are you actually hungry? My stomach is still pissed off about the sheer amount of sugar I’ve eaten today!”
“No such thing as too much maple candy.”
I hand Nate the wine, and he opens the screw top with a roll of his eyes. He fills our glasses, and we move over to the couch, sitting close together. I kick off my shoes, and we talk only briefly before the glasses sit forgotten on the coffee table, and I’m in Nate’s arms.
We kiss, slowly at first, but then Nate pulls back, his hand cupping the side of my face.
“You’re amazingly beautiful,” he says, and my face heats up.
Nate gives me that mischievous half smile of his, and then his mouth is on mine. I’m lost in the sensation as if the rest of the apartment around us, the town of Cascade Falls, and maybe even the rest of the world no longer exist. The only indication that there is anything outside of us is the faint hint of maple flavor in his mouth as his tongue caresses mine.
I feel his hands on my arms, my shoulders, and then my back. One of his hands moves to the nape of my neck, then rises to tangle in my hair. He groans into my mouth, and I know what’s coming next.
He’ll walk out.
Running my hands over his chest, I desperately want to unbutton his shirt and push it off of him, but I also know what that will lead to. Like every other night, he’ll suddenly push away from me and leave as if he were protecting my virtue.
Maybe another tactic.
I pull back slightly, reach down, and quickly yank my own shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor before I press up against him again. I grab the back of his head, pressing my lips to his and holding him there as he groans into my mouth.
I feel his hands on the bare skin of my back. His finger trails over the edge of my bra, and he moans again. I lean backward, pulling him with me until I feel the cushions of the couch below me, and Nate is on top of me. He breaks the kiss, eyes still closed, then attacks my neck with his lips. He moves blissfully down, and I feel his lips against the top of my breast, right above my bra. I toss my head back and push my chest closer to him.
He breaks away.
“I should go,” Nate whispers.
Right on cue.
I grip his shirt, pulling him closer to me and smashing my lips into his. He groans into my mouth again, and his hands slide down to my hips. Feeling more brazen than usual, I release his shirt and move my hands to his back, but only for a moment. I let both hands fall from his shoulders to his backside, then grab his ass-cheeks and pull him against me.
Nate moans.
“Oh, fuck! Cherry!” He tilts his head, kissing down my jaw and neck. He grinds against me.
“Don’t go.” I barely whisper the words. “Stay here.”
“Holy Mary, Mother of…” Nate mutters and then shakes his head. “You are really making this hard.”
“It’s already hard,” I say as I push up against him.
Nate moans and grinds against me again. I feel his hot breath on my neck. My breath quickens, and my entire body shudders. I quickly reach for his shirt buttons, and he doesn’t try to stop me this time. A moment later, his shirt joins mine on the floor, and I run my hands over his bare chest, staring unabashedly at the hard muscles.
He leans forward, his mouth on my throat, and I reach around to grip his bare shoulders. The warmth of his skin penetrates me, and I angle my hips in his direction, enjoying the way it makes him pause, moan, and breathe hot breath on my neck.
“I don’t want to screw this up, Cherry.”
“You aren’t. Please, Nate!”
He lets out a long groan.
“I wanted to wait…” He shakes his head but doesn’t move his lips from my neck. “I want you so much, my Cherice.”
“I don’t want to wait anymore, Nate.”
I cover his mouth with mine, hoping if he can’t talk, he won’t be able to protest any further. I separate my legs a little, feel his hard length slip between my thighs and wish he’d just take his pants off already.
“Fuck this,” he mutters. “I can’t resist anymore.”
As he says it, he starts to pull away from me. I cling to his shoulders in a desperate attempt to keep him close to me, but apparently, I’ve misinterpreted. He doesn’t stand to pull his shirt back on and leave—he stands just long enough to reach down and pick me up, bridal style, and carry me into the bedroom.
He stops at the foot of my bed, turns me in his arms, and sits me down. He drops to his knees in front of me, one hand snaking around my back just long enough to release the clasp on my bra. I lower my arms, and it falls to the floor next to Nate.
“Holy Mary,” he whispers as he slowly runs his hands down my arms, to my sides, and then back up my arms to rest
