Natasha ~ Present
I CLOSED THE DOOR TO my apartment and leaned against it, my breath coming in pants after running across the street and up the stairs.
He’d gotten so angry.
I sighed and fought back tears as I thought of Jericho’s reaction. When I’d seen Belinda talking to him, I’d been hit with the pain of jealousy. Knowing that I needed him to move on, so that maybe I could, I thought I’d give him a little push . . . let him know that I would understand, but he didn’t take it the way I’d thought at all.
I’d seen the pain my words caused, then the quick switch to anger.
I looked around my apartment. Sparse and humble as it was, it was no homier than my dorm room had been. No more lived in. While Millie and Dru had decorated their spaces with things they love, I’d never found the time to make this place anything other than a place to sleep at night.
It was depressing really, and being suddenly hit by a wave of loneliness only made it worse.
Maybe it’s time for me to spruce the place up, make it look actually lived in. Get a pet or something.
Someone pounded on the door behind me, causing me to jump and squeal in surprise. I turned to look at the still-closed door, and knew who I’d find on the other side.
Shit.
I wiped my cheeks, put on a brave face, and opened the door.
“Hey,” I managed, even though Jericho stood before me, seething.
I took a step back, then another as he started toward me, slamming the door behind him as he let himself inside.
I tried to back farther away, but he was there, taking me in his arms and lowering his face to mine. I opened my mouth to protest, and that was all the invitation Jericho needed.
It was like coming home, his lips on mine, familiar and oh, so wonderful. I sighed and practically melted against him as he deepened the kiss. My arms went up and around his neck, to steady myself, and to finally feel him. His hair in my fingers, his chest against mine, and his soft, supple lips.
Everything . . . this was everything. He was everything.
Sweet and sensual quickly turned to unbridled passion as the years apart disappeared and there was only now.
His hands were working on my dress as mine were unbuttoning his shirt, both of us eager to be skin on skin. Everything was on fire, and I worried if I didn’t feel him, touch him, have him right then, I’d burn out.
“Hurry,” I said, desperate for him.
“You’re driving me crazy,” Jericho muttered, and then, we were free.
My hands eagerly roamed from his stomach, to his chest, then over his shoulders and down his arms. He was a little bigger, more muscular, than when we were younger, but was still, oh so familiar.
Years of not being touched in this way by another person had me writhing against him; the need to come was great, but the need to be with Jericho again, to be filled by him, was a visceral one.
He laid me back on my plain, brown sofa and covered my body with his. I opened for him, throwing one leg over the back of the couch, and the other I wrapped around his waist. We were consumed, obsessed, mindless to anything but the search for pleasure. For the connection that was always so damn good between us.
I was kissing his jaw, licking his earlobe, sucking on his throat, touching and tasting everything I could reach. It was like a madness had taken over and I’d given myself over to it.
I felt Jericho’s knuckles brush against the front of my panties and I arched toward him, a whimper escaping my lips at the glory of that feeling. He moved his fingers down to push the delicate fabric to the side, then he was there. The tip of his cock teased my entrance and I moved my hands around to cup his still jean-clad ass and urge him forward.
“Please,” I begged, too caught up in the moment to care how needy I sounded.
Jericho concurred, pushing inside until he was fully seated, then pausing with his eyes closed to enjoy the moment.
“Natasha,” he breathed, and I knew he could feel how tight I was, how it took me a moment to become acquainted to his cock inside of me after all these years.
It felt amazing. He felt amazing. And I really, really, needed him to move.
I bucked up against him, which broke him out of his reverie and spurred him into action. I held on tight as he pulled out and thrust back in, over and over, faster and faster, until I was coming undone beneath him.
He wasn’t far behind, coming with my name on his lips and rocking against me until we were both panting and exhausted.
All too soon, reality crept in, and what we’d just done hit me like a ton of bricks. Without realizing it, my body stiffened in Jericho’s arms as panic threatened to suffocate me. I pushed him up and slid out from under him, falling to the floor in a tangle of graceless limbs, then shot up and ran to the bathroom.
“Shit,” I whispered as I took in my flushed skin and messed-up hair. I was still in my bra and underwear. We hadn’t even gotten naked in our rush to fuck.
I winced even as I thought it, because deep down, I knew that word could never be used to describe what Jericho and I did. We’d always been passionate. Since that first night together, we’d ignited something between us that I’d never imagined was possible.
I didn’t know if it was a common occurrence, since I’d never been with anyone else, and I wondered if Jericho could tell.
Oh, how embarrassing it would be if he could. If he knew that I’d been pining over him all of these years, still in love with the man I’d left without a word. I knew I needed to come clean, really explain everything, not just gloss things over like I had at Prime Beef.
I’d been truthful about why I’d left, but not about everything since . . . not about how much I still love him, even though the thought of admitting it and being with him again terrified me.
Still, it was obvious that we couldn’t go on the way we had been, so we needed to talk.
Really talk.
Resolved, I took a deep breath and opened the door, ready to lay my heart out and see what happened.
But when I walked out into the living room and looked around, I realized it was too late.
He was gone.