The Offer (22 page)

I look over at
Ava who is smiling at Bram like he’s her damn hero. “How do you
like the couch, angel?”

“I like it
very much,” she says emphatically.

All right, so
I guess that settles it. “Where’s the old couch?” I ask him, oddly
sad I never got to say goodbye.

“A charity
organization came to take it away, going to a half-way house,” he
says. “So don’t worry, it’s going to a good cause. And tomorrow
we’ll just return the other couches to IKEA.”

Oh, so we have
plans for tomorrow now? I do my best to keep a stupid smile from
showing on my lips.

“Well, now
that you’re home, I better be going,” my mother says, easing
herself off the couch. She gives Bram a flirty look. “Nice talking
with you, Bram.”

“Always a
pleasure,” he replies, his brogue extra thick. Extra hot. Damn, he
needs to stop showing off his accent.

My mom gives
me a quick hug, says bye to Ava and just as she’s out the door, she
winks at me.

I totally
pretend not to see it.

But once the
door closes, it feels like I’m being locked in a tomb with Bram and
suddenly I want my mother back because I am afraid like nothing
else at what could happen tonight.

Because he’s
here. He’s sitting on my couch – my new couch – and he’s staring at
me so intently that my bones feel like melting away. That look can
only mean one thing.

“Mommy,” Ava
says, snapping me back to attention. “Can I stay up with you guys
and watch Dora?”

“No, sweetie,”
I quickly tell her, grateful for the opportunity. “You have to go
to bed now. How about you go brush your teeth. Did your grandma use
the spindle and give you the ouchie?”

She nods and
then runs off to the bathroom.

“You know
what’s going to be nice?” I say to Bram. “Her starting kindergarten
in the fall. She’ll be so tuckered out, there’s no way she can stay
up late.”

“That will be
nice,” he says. “And easier on you, especially if you start working
days. You think you’ll still be with the Lion?”

I shrug, glad
that we’re talking about other things and ignoring the throbbing
elephant in the room. “I’m just taking each day as it comes, to be
honest. But yeah, I guess I should keep looking shouldn’t I?”

He purses his
lips and drums his fingers along the back of the couch. “Since
bartending wasn’t your career choice, you can always start
incorporating your dream job back in. You know. Your passion.”

I nod. “I’ll
try.” Actually one of things I’ve been wanting to do lately is
start sewing again like I used to do as a teenager, but I’ll have
to save enough money to get a sewing machine. It’s funny how much I
feel like a teen again with Bram around. I want to sew, I want to
listen to 90’s trip hop, I want to just let my hair down and be a
bit wild and free.

For the first
time in a long time, I wouldn’t mind losing my heart. Just as long
as I can get it back. When you’re a teenager and you fall in love,
you think you’ll never move on once it’s been lost. But you always
gain it back, you always fall for someone else. No boy holds it for
too long. Your young heart is a wild, elastic thing. Now, I fear
that age and time and experience stretches it too hard, too far,
and it will never snap back.

But why am I
even thinking about love. My mind should be in the gutter, if
anything.

“Do you hate
the couch?” Bram asks as I go into the kitchen to put on some
decaf.

“Not at all!”
I tell him. I shoot him a sheepish glance over my shoulder. “Sorry,
I’m just surprised. Like, really.”

I look back at
the coffee grounds I’m trying to measure and I can hear him get off
the couch. I can feel him come toward me. The man carries his own
force field and maybe it’s just my hormones or my deprived
imagination, but I swear I can feel every hair on my body standing
to attention as he approaches.

“It’s a really
nice couch,” I say meekly, talking for the sake of talking. Oh man,
when I get nervous, I can talk anyone’s ear off. “I think we saw it
in IKEA, right? I guess you could have returned the yellow couch
earlier.”

“Aye,” he says
and now his voice is like a growl. He stops right behind me and I
can feel his breath on my neck. “I could have. But I wanted your
approval. I told the half-way house that you may change your mind,
so they’re holding it somewhere.”

I swallow.
“Okay. Um, well, no. It’s for a good cause as you said and I guess
we can return to the store tomorrow or some other day for the rest
and…”

I trail off
because his lips are on the bare spot between my neck and my
shoulder and his kiss, so soft, so slow, is literally stealing my
breath and my thoughts. I am pure silk in his hands and I have to
brace myself on the counter so that I don’t slither to the
ground.

But he has me
too. He places those warm, large hands around my waist, making me
feel so impossibly dainty and one hundred percent his. I lean back
into him and he presses his pelvis against my ass. I can already
feel the hard contours of his erection, straining for me.

“Mommy,” I
hear Ava call from the bathroom. Kid has the worst timing I
swear.

I raise my
shoulder, trying to shrug Bram off. “I don’t want her to get the
wrong idea,” I tell him.

He takes his
lips and hands away and I can feel his eyes on the back of my head.
He clears his throat. “There is no wrong idea, Nicola. There’s only
a right one.”

I twist around
to face him but he’s already halfway across the room and going for
the door.

Shit. Did I
scare him off that easily? The expression on his face is tense and
I wonder if I somehow offended him.

“Good night,”
he says and just like that he’s gone.

Holy moly. I
stare at the closed door a few seconds until Ava runs over to me.
“Mommy, can I have toothpaste that tastes like bubblegum? I saw it
on the TV.”

I absently
ruffle her hair. “When you finish this tube you can.”

I’d never seen
Bram so moody before though it doesn’t surprise me. Beneath that
easy-going exterior, sometimes I can see the darkness in his eyes,
hinting at something underneath. We all have that in us.

Later on,
after I put Ava to bed, I find that I can’t sleep. I toss and turn,
staring up at the ceiling, pulling the duvet over me as the chill
from the Bay wafts into my room. I masturbate soundlessly, getting
off to Bram everything – Bram on me, inside me, around me – but
that doesn’t help at all. It just makes things worse because I’m so
aware of how there’s no substitute for the real thing.

Finally, I get
up and go into the living room. I sink into the couch and I’m
suddenly so grateful for it. Not only is it stylish, but it’s
functional without being too overwhelming - meaning, now my guests
(aka my mom) have a proper place to sleep when they stay over. And
the dark grey color, it kind of reminds me of Bram’s eyes.
Especially when they get all dark, like they did earlier, like
storm clouds rolling in.

I’m about to
flip on the TV and maybe watch something stupid just to take my
mind off things when I look at my phone. It’s just after
midnight.

Would Bram be
awake right now? It might be crazy, but I feel like going next
door. Just to see if he’s up. Just to see…

But I don’t
want to wake him if he’s not, especially since he left so abruptly.
After all he’s done for me, I don’t want to get on his nerves.
Well, maybe just a little bit, but only because it’s so fun.

Maybe I’m
finally understanding why he likes to bug me so much.

I sigh,
staring at my phone. That kiss, such a simple kiss on my neck and I
just wanted to give myself over to him, his forever to have. It
surprised me how eager and willing I was to just let him have me,
with no regard for my heart or for our relationship or for
anything. And I know, I know, I should be using my head above all
else. It’s kept me safe over the years.

But I just
want to pretend that everything will be all right. That giving
myself to Bram will answer all my prayers, even if just for a
night.

I pick
up the phone and text him.
Are you awake?

I wait,
staring at it in my hands that are trembling slightly, wishing I
could take it back. I wait and there’s no response. He’ll probably
get it in the morning when he wakes up and I’ll have to come up
with some sort of excuse as to why I texted him.

Then I hear
his door closing out in the hall and there’s a quiet knock at
mine.

I freeze, my
hand to my chest and stare at it for a moment, knowing that if I
open it, everything could change.

“Nicola,” I
hear his throaty voice whisper.

I get up and
go to it, opening it a crack. He’s standing in the hall in just a
pair of thin, black pajama pants. Very thin. I can’t help but stare
at his crotch for a moment.

“Hi,” I tell
him softly, tearing my eyes away, my pulse starting to awaken with
lust. “Did I wake you up?”

“I’ve been
awake for a long time,” he says, his hand resting on the
doorframe.

“What have you
been doing?”

A heavy pause
settles between us.

He licks his
lips. “Thinking about you.”

Before I can
say anything to that, his eyes burn with urgent need and he bursts
into the apartment like a man who sees what he wants and will do
anything to get it.

And what he
wants is me.

I couldn’t
wait a second longer. What little patience I had left for Nicola
had snapped and I let loose like a rubber band that’s been
stretched to the end.

I grab her
face, that fucking perfect, sweet face and kiss her more wildly,
more violent and desperate than I’ve ever felt before. Her mouth
feels like silk as my tongue thrusts inside, wanting to claim every
wet inch and her skin feels like heaven, clouds, that beckon you to
grab and squeeze and make yours.

A small
whimper escapes her lips and into my mouth and her hands are on my
bare chest, trying to push me back but I can’t wait. While I’m
still kissing her, I reach back and quickly close the door behind
me, silently, aware that Ava is asleep. I have no intentions of
waking her up, of having any interruptions. I’m going to get deep
inside Nicola tonight and fuck her so raw, so hard, until she has
no choice but to see the animals we are.

I grab her
roughly and with a grunt, flip her over my shoulder, like a caveman
would, like a hunter would bring home a meal, and take her into the
bedroom where I throw her on the bed. She bounces on it and I shut
the door behind us, making sure it locks, then take the condom foil
out of my pocket and toss it on the bed before sliding off my
pants.

She’s
breathless and wide-eyed as she stares at my naked, massive
erection for the first time. It’s just the reaction I want.
Actually, she’s looking a wee bit intimidated but that’s not so bad
for the ego either.

“There’s no
time for foreplay,” I warn her gruffly as I get on the bed and
crawl toward her, my thick shaft bobbing between us. “But I’ll get
you wet all the same.” I put my hand on her shoulders and push her
down onto the bed while I settle over top of her, my hands on both
sides of her face. I run my thumb over her lips, pushing it in
until I get between her teeth.

“It wasn’t
just tonight that thoughts of you have kept me up,” I tell her,
wanting to know how badly she’s gotten under my skin. “It’s every
night. It’s all the time.” I remove my thumb and press my body down
on top of her, so she can feel how hard, long and ready I am. Her
eyes widen but they aren’t afraid. It’s like her body has been
ready for this and her mind is struggling to catch up.

She’s eager,
even though she doesn’t know what will happen next.

I reach over
for the condom packet and slide it on, my heart pounding loudly,
and spread her legs apart with my knee. The scent of her already
drifts up and I breathe it in deeply, sweet and musky, more
addicting than any perfume.

Quickly,
before I lose it, my body hair-trigger sensitive, I sit back on my
heels and rip open a condom, sheathing the thin latex over my
length. I watch Nicola’s face, her eyes taking me all in and I
remind myself that even when I’m turning down an extra beer and
sweating for hours at the gym, this moment is all worth it. I take
the best damn care of my body and she can’t seem to take her eyes
off of me.

Once it’s on,
I shake a drop of sweat from my brow – Christ, I’m burning up in
here, my skin feeling like the sun – and lower myself down on her,
keeping all my weight on one arm as my free hand slinks between her
waiting legs.

“
Just
making sure you’re ready for me,” I murmur to her, my lips and
teeth finding the soft, delicate lobe of her ear and tugging on it
just so. I bring my hand up to her pussy and grin against her
cheek. Not only does she feel just as plump and silky as before,
now she’s positively drenched. Fuck, I should ditch my plans and
just lap up every last decadent drop but then I know I’d be blowing
my load in the first minute. There’s nothing so primitively sexy,
so fucking raw, than eating a woman out, licking up every ounce of
what makes her
her
. When you
combine that with the pleasure you’re giving her, I dare any real
man not want to lose control. Turning her on turns
me
on.

“You’re so
fucking wet,” I tell her as I push two fingers inside her tight
little hole. The way she squeezes around them, holding me, makes my
eyes momentarily roll back in my head. Fuck, and that’s just my
fingers.

Her breath
hitches and she arches back, her round, pale breasts heaving
upwards. I run my tongue over her nipples, hard pebbles that
respond to my every touch, and she groans loudly. I push my fingers
in further and the groan deepens. She’s like a fucking smorgasbord,
a buffet, a feast, and I have no idea where to start but every
single item is bound to be delicious.