RETRACE (17 page)

“Come again?” He snorts a laugh.

I fling the door open, having him follow me. Mid-way inside the living room I turn to him, “We can do something else, can’t we?”

His recent snort turns into a wide smile as he watches me squirm, both humored and undecided. Reeves sends a hand to my forehead.

“Feeling good, love?”

“We can do other things, can’t we? We don’t have to… Oh, I know, let’s play…”

Reeves folds his arms over his chest, watching me with a touch of mock.

“What? I was just saying that we can do other things.”

“Honestly, Nia, I have no idea what’s gotten into you.”

“Yes, let’s play. Ooh, I know, let’s play Scrabble. We can play Scrabble and not each other, right?”

“Scrabble and not each other?” Reeves bursts into guttural laughter. “You’re all kinds of crazy today, but it’s damn cute. Okay, playing it is… not each other.”

I smirk and head to get the board game.

We sit on the rug next to my living room table with the game board between us. Reeves crossed legged with a ghost of a smile, me on bent legs to his left, arranging my vowels on one side of the rack.

I check my letters one more time, wrinkling my nose, catching Reeves’ lips crooking higher. I go first, my “B” totally kicked his “E’s” ass. I place an “R” on the star at the center of the playing board, and add the rest of the letters.

“Ready…?” Reeves utters the word I’ve just placed with the most suggesting smile. I roll my eyes. “Nine points…” He notes the number down on a piece of paper and turns to use my “Y,” for his word: “yours.”

“If you are ready… I’m yours.” He grins and I roll my eyes again, amused. “Always,” he murmurs. We both beam at each other.

I bite my lip, holding a smile while placing my next word. Oh, he’ll love this one. When I’m done I blink at Reeves twice.

His grin doubles. “I like where you are going with this,” he says somewhat huskily at my “swallow.”

He winks at me after setting his word: “lick.”

“We’re at, 22:18,” he says, utterly amused.

“I’m getting soda, get you anything?” I ask, inching to stand. He shakes his head slowly, but by the way he looks at me, I know exactly what he’d like to drink: me. A heat wave swirls inside my tummy and continues south. I close my parted lips, unglue my eyes from him, as hard as it is to do, and turn to the kitchen.

I place the can on the table, settling in the space I’ve just vacated. I take a long sip, studying the board again. Once my word “come” is arranged on the board, I take another swig. Reeves watches me keenly, green heated eyes tearing off each piece of clothing I have on. I smile into the can, beyond enjoying his attention. He shakes his head, clearing his mind and turns to observe his rack. His eyes crinkle as he places his word.

“Pound,” he says, popping the P. He grins and I twist my mouth, trying to ease my own smiling. “Your ‘O’ helped my pound,” he says and I can’t help my giggle.

“Umm…” I move my lips from side to side, checking the board and my letters again. “Rock,” I say while placing the tiles slowly, one after the other.

“Hard,” Reeves says the word before setting his letters on the board. Involuntarily, my eyes fling to his crotch. He smirks. I bite my lip and feel my cheeks heat up. He bobs his head and mouths, “hard.” The looks we trade next are a combination of humor and fire. Fire that I’ve grown to know so well, a fire that could only be extinguished with him,
hard
, between my legs.

I make a whole show of thinking, as I pretend to choose my next word.
Oh, I’ve chosen it, carefully…
I feel like throwing my pompoms to the air in victory. With the tip of my finger between my lips, I bend to the table, making sure my cleavage is on display. As soon as I place the “L” that concludes “anal,” I watch the tiles fly into my white shaggy rug. The innocent board follows suit as it is swiped away in one swift movement, and it’s me that’s next on the table.

I’m on my knees, breasts pressed to the wooden surface, and a hard body melds into mine from behind. I can feel him pressing against my rear and his breath next to my ear.

“You were saying…” My earlobe is in Reeves’ mouth, and a very distinctive excitement thrusts slowly against me. The only thing I’m capable of getting out of my mouth is a moan.

“Umm, don’t get too excited, we are not touching
that
word,” I say as his tongue starts to slowly trail from behind my ear down my neck. I tilt my head back, giving him better access. I slightly move into him, take his hand in mine, and slide it under my shirt, guiding him to my breasts. “But you can touch anything else you want.” He pushes down the lace of my bra to get my nipple between his fingers.

“I am.” His low voice wraps me with want. His other hand slides down over my shirt, halting next to my fly. Easily, he unbuttons my jeans and his fingers slide between the rough fabric and my satin panties. Rubbing his palm over me, ever so slowly, his hand on my breast moves to give the other the same delectable treatment.

“Tease,” he says as he rhythmically and blissfully instigates every one of my nerve endings. I send my hand to reach between us, sliding it inside his jeans. He pulls back just enough for it to get inside his boxers. I palm him, grazing over the warm and smooth skin. He lets out a low groan and pushes into my hold. We stroke each other, my hand around him,
his
ardently exploring me, till we’re both panting with desire.

“Reeves.” His name comes out of my mouth on a moan, and he sinks his finger deeper.

“Say it,” his voice is rough and hoarse. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” another finger joins and I pant mid-sentence, “inside of me.”

Before I know it, my jeans and panties are ripped off me. He positions me back at the table and props my ass up before him, reverently caressing it.

“Hold tight to the table,” he says, and the sound of his zipper freeing him is like a sweet promise. I feel his body’s heat back behind me, then he nudges my legs to spread. Right after, he directs himself to where I’m eagerly waiting for him. He teases me first, and I lean back against him. As he sinks just one inch more I drop my head between my spread arms. One of his hands moves to hold me by my shoulder and the other by my waist. He pulls back just a little and then in one fierce slam he causes the wildest delightful cry to fly from my mouth.

There’s nothing subtle nor poised about our need for release as I lean into him while Reeves thrusts into me, repeatedly and with strength. He pulls back and pounds into me again, and again. I grip the edge of the table, absorbing his raw, blessed attack. He grows thicker, and I become slicker and greedier. He slows to leave hungry kisses on my back, from the middle of my spine to the nape of my neck. I press back against him and he picks back the pace and continues playing on each of my aroused strings.

“Yes, yes,” I pant, begging for him to go even faster. He does. And he reaches deeper. The sound of our bodies colliding fills the room. He releases his hold on my shoulder and brings his hand between my legs to start circling, pressing just enough to make me explode into millions of particles of ecstasy.

Still landing from my mind-shuttering orgasm, spasming around him, I feel him increase his already wild pace. Not long after, just before reaching his own relief, he freezes for a short breath, pinned deep into me.

“God, you feel amazing,” he rasps. With his next forceful thrust, “fuck, Nia,” is uttered through a strained breath, just before he falls on top of me. Satiated, we even our heartbeats.

“And just for the record… I won,” I say, and we both lightly chuckle in unison.

“And just for the record, Scrabble is officially my new favorite game.” Reeves watches me, his eyes lit with amusement as I shimmy into my panties while reaching for my jeans.

“Uh,” his low, clear voice prompts me to meet his eyes. He rubs the back of his neck. “You kind of have…a…” He points to my legs. I tip my gaze to search for-I’m not even sure what. He drops to his knees beneath me, his jeans still unbuttoned. Reeves extends his hand toward my knee and peels a little tile that had glued to my skin while
I
was on my knees.

He softly hovers the pad of his finger on the indentation the small letter piece has left. His face tilts up to look at me while donning the most gigantic grin. My lips stretch in reflex. I slightly bow to check the new imprint. I let out a giggle as I see a red-ish “R” marking my skin.

“Maybe I should add a trademark symbol above it,” Reeves says, and we exchange elated stares.

“Am I yours?” I playfully tease.

“In a way,” he says, and turns to put his clothes on.

What was that supposed to mean? When I open my mouth to comment, he already has one foot inside the bathroom. I snap my mouth shut and resume shrugging my jeans on, obsessing over the three words he just uttered.

As night falls, once again, we turn-in in Reeves’ apartment. When he asked if I ever ate, ransacking through my perpetually empty fridge, I took the opportunity to coax him to go to his place instead where food can be found in abundance. Food, I learned quite quickly, is a good way to his heart. It’s not that I don’t want him at home, it’s my bedroom I rather he wouldn’t visit. There are too many mementos in there I rather not share with anyone.

We lie side by side in Reeves’ wide bed, indulging in the fresh scented, navy linen. Reeves is in his boxers, leaning high on a pillow against the headboard. I’m on my side, facing him with the soft comforter threaded between my thighs. Raptly, I watch his lips move as he tells me funny stories from his travels as a bodyguard. I lightly laugh when he tells me about one of his client’s man-eater of a wife and the excuses she uses to get her husband’s security people to her room while dear hubby labors nearby.

My eyes independently start to crawl down the length of his tall and firm body while I listen to his calming voice. His tight, fair skin, the ridges and rims of his chest, his defined abs, the soft dark trail between his shaped V that leads to his boxers. For a span of a minute I’m lost, drinking the sight of him. My eyes return to leisurely feast on his handsome face, his sharp nose, his plump lips, hard cheekbones and the little crinkles now decorating his eyes. He cranes his neck my way, locking our stares.

“I don’t know much about you,” he says in a soft voice. It’s more a genuine interest, rather than any sort of accusation. “I told you things about me that I’ve never shared with anyone else, and yet you told me nothing about yourself.”

“What would you like to know about me?” My stomach begins to twist in a knot.

“Whatever you are willing to tell me.” He sends his hand to cover mine. He rubs his thumb in circles over my skin. “You can start by telling me the real reason you decided to leave home. Why am I an escape?” My chest tightens viciously both at the way he looks at me at this very moment, and because I know it’s time I should tell him something about my past.

“I moved away because it was too hard to be at home.” Reeves turns to mimic my position, laying on his side, his eyes owning mine. “I lost someone dear to me about three years ago.” I swallow over the lump forming in my throat. Reeves’ cringe of pain and empathy sends my heart to pang. His stare next prompts me to go on, saying I have his full attention and so much more. “It changed everything for me,
it changed me
.” My eyes roam to focus on a spot on the wall behind him. “It changed the way I felt about myself, the way I saw… life.” My lips twist in a bitter smile. “Reeves, I’m sorry but this is too hard and… I… had a part in losing this person… I’m sorry, I need more time. I know you’ve opened up to me, and you’d like me to do the same to you. That’s what friends do. I want that too, maybe I just need more time.”

Reeves’ hold on my hand tightens. He doesn’t push me. His silence lets me know I’m the one in control.

With a far-off stare I resume, “The way people acted around me, my friends, my family, it felt like no one really understood what I was going through. I had to have a break, a fresh start. Everyone tried to help me out of my shell.” I take a deep breath. “But it didn’t help much. Maybe I wanted to be in that shell.” I hold a tear back. “It felt like I didn’t belong there anymore. I still feel like I don’t belong anywhere.”

I turn to look at him and our eyes catch for a strained beat. Reeves brings his hand to cup my cheek and I lean into it. He inches toward me and presses his lips to my forehead before sending his hand to his nightstand drawer to produce a black marker. I watch him as he removes the cap with his teeth. He then turns to the wall, just above the headboard and writes:

You Belong Here

He draws an arrow that points to the pillow I’ve been resting my head on every night for the last few months. My heart starts to beat double-time. Emotions bubble up inside of me. Scared, I laugh it off. With the greatest pretence in history of nonchalance, I roll my eyes and say, “It’s always about sex, huh? ‘You’ is pretty general, you know. You can just use it to woo anyone you get in here.” I let out another titter, trying to mask the storm inside of me, and wink.

It isn’t a laugh, or any sort of amusement for that matter that he reciprocates with. On the contrary, his lips turn into a hard line and his eyes fire up. I watch him as he takes the cap and fists it in his hand forcefully till his knuckles whiten.

His chest lifts with his next inhale. His eyes turn soft as he watches me profoundly while bringing the marker to point at his bare chest. With his stare penetrating mine he slowly writes on his skin, just mere inches above his heart:

Nia

“You are right, you belong in here.” Reeves places his hand over my name.

He just tore me apart, savagely, in the best of ways, and I’m left petrified. Tears choke me and my next breath is a hard one to take in. I turn my head sideways, making an immense job of collecting myself, of holding my tears back. I’m scared to even allow myself to admit what I’m feeling right now. I can not.

“Shh, listen carefully, if you’re quiet enough you’ll be able to hear my heart telling you that.” He smiles at me gently. My own heart is about to overflow.