CHAPTER 27
LANA
Joe was relentless. I’d never felt so connected to another person in my whole life. He moved me like he could read my mind about what I wanted next, and almost instantly, a warm rush of euphoria lit up my entire body. From the hairs on my head to the tips of my toes, I felt this burst of energy roll through me. I cried out, gripping his arms tightly, needing him to know I never wanted this to end. Joe was like a drug, the best freaking drug in the world, and he didn’t even stop there.
My cries seemed to fuel him.
He moved, thrusting harder, faster, deeper, touching me again exactly the way I told him I liked. My first orgasm blurred into a second and then a third.
My thoughts—I couldn’t contain them. My body—I lost control of it. My heart—it beat like a runaway train. Until Joe slowed, and I felt him pulse deep inside me, reaching his climax too. He pressed his forehead against mine, his hair damp with sweat, his breath mixing with mine, as he whispered a few curse words against my lips.
He also whispered something else.
“I love you.”
I was coming off an orgasm of my own. My body full-on tingling. My heart swelling as it was. Feeling giddy and warm, in a hazy glow with him still buried inside me. So, I didn’t know what to think, or if I’d imagined in completely. But his words squeezed my heart like a vice.
Joe pulled out, collapsing on his stomach on the bed beside me. He laid with one of his arms draped lazily across my chest. I traced my fingers over his firm bicep, staring up at an ornate, gold ceiling with pictures of flowers painted on it. Had he said what I think he said?
I was kind of freaking out because no man had ever said that to me. Except for Doug, one random night in April, during spring semester of my freshman year. The words coming from Doug had been unexpected and unwanted. The words coming from Joe—equally unexpected but ridiculously amazing to hear. My heart swelled with so much joy, but that only made this all the more terrifying.
I’d pegged him right on day one. Joe was so far outside of the fucking box. And I liked that about him the most. I only hoped he was as picky as I was when it came to love. Before that woman raped him, from what I’d gathered, he had tons and tons of sex with, basically, whoever without being picky. What if I was just the woman who helped him get over his rapist? Like a temporary bandage. And once he healed, he’d be back to being just as he was before—not picky and not interested in only me.
I didn’t want to share.
I didn’t want this to be temporary.
He sat up in bed, moving over me, peppering my face with a few quick kisses that I couldn’t help but laugh at. “Come on. Let’s get dressed,” he uttered. “I’m going to show you the most touristy things I know in this city.”
He was adamant.
I was hesitant.
He was out of the bed, pulling his clothes on before I had a chance to even process. He hadn’t commented on his three little words, which made me wonder if he even realized he’d said them. A minute later, I still laid in the bed while he was already slipping on his shoes—back in the jeans and T-shirt he’d worn before our meeting.
The look of excitement on his handsome face was too much to deny. Grabbing the sheet from the bed in place around my body, I collected my clothes, and then headed to the bathroom to change.
“See, woman,” he said when I came back out, dressed again in my suit, blouse, and work heels, “this is why you always pack an overnight bag with a change of clothes. If my parents taught me anything in life—God help them—they taught me that much.”
I smacked his arm as he joked with me. But he made a good point. I wasn’t looking forward to wearing this outfit for whatever touristy things his restless mind was concocting.
“Whatever. I’m fine.”
We headed out and for the elevators once more.
All Joe had to do is smile, with his perfect lips and the easy way his eyes fell on me, and the spot between my legs started to ache. And right now, he was more excited than I’d ever seen him, holding my hand, smiling that big, contagious smile of his. He showed that smile to a lot of people—the difference with me, right now, was that I was certain it was real. So seeing him this happy, and smiley, I was half-tempted to stop the elevator, hit the button for our floor, and drag him back upstairs and back to bed. He was turning me on, and he didn’t even have a clue.
“Look, a gift shop!” His eyes lit up like he was a kid who’d just spotted Santa as we stepped off the elevator.
He dragged me inside.
“It’s a hundred degrees outside, you need something else to wear. Let me pick you something? Pretty, pretty please.”
Well . . . the gift shop had plenty of T-shirts, that was for damn certain.
He dropped to his knees.
Dramatic much?
I laughed. “Only if you let me pick something out for you too. Get up. You’re crazy.” I tugged at his arms so he’d get up off the floor.
It became a game. Who could dress who in the most ridiculous tourist outfit? He chose me an ‘I heart New York’ T-shirt, hat, and flip-flops. He even found sunglasses shaped like apples. I chose him a shirt with the Statue of Liberty that said ‘Lady Liberty’ across the back in big bold letters. Surprisingly enough, the gift shop that had everything imaginable didn’t have any shorts. So I had to wear my work skirt with the rest of my new outfit. I didn’t care. I was excited. And I found it especially sweet when Joe offered to take the rest of my stuff back upstairs.
I waited for him in the lobby.
Once he returned, we set off to do the touristy stuff. First stop, visiting the top of Rockefeller Center. Talk about the longest line ever. It was ridiculous. Probably the busiest day of the year. Joe wrapped his arms around me from behind, holding me tight, not saying much as we paid and then joined the end of the line.
“Do you mind if I answer some emails while we wait in this?”
“Go ahead,” he said into my shoulder, kissing me lightly. “I’m not letting go, though.”
I slipped my phone from my pocket, trying not to be distracted by his lips on my neck, while also dreading what I would find waiting for me when I opened my email. The last two days had been crazy, and I’d been neglecting work. I was almost thankful for this long line so I could at least try to skim a little off the top of my work load.
As I opened my email, I found I had over two hundred unread emails waiting. “Holy crap,” I whispered, feeling my stomach swirl a little. My thumbs started to fly over the alphabet keys, answering what I could, as fast as I could while we creeped along, inch by inch, in this line.
Joe was reading what I was writing. I knew because the smart-ass occasionally corrected my grammar. I didn’t mind what he saw or read. I trusted him so completely. The whole ‘spying on me’ thing—I didn’t even care anymore.
“Oh God,” I realized, after we’d already been in line for over an hour, and we’re nearing the end of the line and the elevators now. “I haven’t called Abe. He doesn’t know I found you. He’s probably worried sick.”
“I’m sure Kitty told him something when she returned his truck. Send him a text. Tell him you’re safe and with me. Tell him you’ll explain everything as soon as you can.”
I did just that—and I would have done more, but we had to move as it was finally our turn to board the elevators. Not to mention, I’d killed most of my battery answering so many emails.
The elevator was full as we rode up all seventy floors. I didn’t know what to expect. “Have you ever done this before?” I asked Joe.
“No. Never.”
“Seriously? How long did you live in New York?”
“Through middle and high school.”
“Do your parents still live here?”
“They do.”
He said no more. But his arms around me pulled me against his chest a little tighter. I wondered why—and what had happened that lead him to stop talking to his parents? Another Joe Coffee mystery. He sure had plenty of those.
“Here we go,” the young man operating the elevator said. He had been rattling off facts about the building and about New York City, our own two-minute tour guide, none of which I’d paid attention to. The only thing important was me and Joe and our small back corner in this crowded elevator.
At the top, the people filed off the elevator. I was met with the wind, and the sun, and the most stunning view. New York, the towering buildings stretched out, the water in the distance, the hazy summer air, and then there was the Empire State Building, in the mist of the concrete jungle, standing tallest of them all.
Joe breathed in deeply.
I glanced at him as he took in the view. I mean, the view was stunning and all, but I was more distracted by him. I could tell that he missed this place. He missed his city. I could see it on his face.
“Will you ever move back?” I whispered the words, not sure if he’d even heard me. Because my life was in Portland, always would be, and if he ever moved back here that would most likely mean this thing between us would have to end. Funny how something so new could already mean so much to me, could already be so terrifying to lose, could already give my chest a taste of the heartbreak that losing him would induce. But it did.
“No. Portland’s my home now.”
I nodded.
“Alright, kid.” He smiled down at me, winking. “Next stop.”
“What? We just got here.”
“And we have about a million other things to see. Let’s take a picture.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, snapping one of us before I was even ready.
“Hell no, Joe, slow down.”
I made him take no less than five more before I was satisfied. Then we left, on to the next stop on his speed tour of the city.