Catch My Fall (40 page)

He smiled and went back to typing on his phone a moment, set it back on the desk, and leaned against the wall. He looked so relaxed in his Monty Python t-shirt and jeans, his legs crossed at the ankles. I stared at him, my mind racing through words too fast to say any of them.

He snorted softly. “It’s official, though. Your boyfriend sucks cock. If I ever hear him talk to you like that again -”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

Stellan raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

My mouth went dry instantly as I felt the words rise in my throat. “What if we fuck this up?”

Stellan shifted his weight and paused. “Interesting segue.”

“I’m serious!”

“What are we talking about here?”

My throat was still tight, a tension inspired by both fear and a sense of a dam cracking in the wake of a flood. “You know what I’m talking about. What if we fuck this – us - up?”

He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “We really having this conversation right now? Cause if so, I’d say that’s not the most positive way to start it off.”

“We have to! I’ve missed you. I fucking missed you every day!” He tried to speak, but I wasn’t done. “I can’t do that again. I can’t sit there wanting to talk to you and feeling like I can’t. I felt fucking trapped every day we weren’t talking.”

“You never need to feel like that, ever.”

I took a shaky inhale. “You didn’t talk to me!”

“You didn’t talk to me either!”

We were getting loud.

“What if we end up bitter exes who never speak because we can’t stand the sight of one another?”

He scoffed. “You really think that would happen?”

“I don’t know!” I stopped and watched him as he scratched the heel of one socked foot with the toes of the other. “What if we hurt each other and break each other’s hearts? You’re the one I want when I’m sad. You’re the one I want hugs from, and I know now how hard it is when I can’t have them.”

He came at me then. “You should never have felt that way.”

“You weren’t talking to me!”

“You weren’t talking to
me either
!”

He came close enough for me to touch, so I hit him.

I’m such a grown-up, I know.

He smiled and moved closer. His breath had changed, his energy. When he stepped into me it was as though there was a bubble, a membrane between us that I felt him break as he closed the distance.

He stood before me, turning my hands palm up so he could look at them as he spoke. “I don’t have the all the answers. But I’ll say this - I’d rather get it wrong with you than never get it right, because you and I were too chicken shit to try.”

I stared at my hands. “I’m not chicken shit.”

He chuckled and pulled my hand up to his face. He kissed the pad of my thumb. The distance closed between us another inch as he leaned in.

My breath caught in my throat as he leaned down to me. I couldn’t have moved if my life depended on it.

He breathed in at my cheek, then said something – in Swedish.

I shivered against him, unable to lift my face to his. “No Swedish. Swedish is cheating.”

“Oh you’re getting plenty of Swedish.
Jag vill ha dig så mycket.”

I curled into myself smiling, turning my face away, as though his lips would burn me. “Shut up.”

He smiled and gently lifted my chin. “Jag slår vad om att du låter trevligt.”

I squirmed. “Unfair.”

He touched his nose to mine. “Älskling.”

I waited for him to meet my eyes. “You’re killing me, Smalls.” He laughed. I swallowed. “What does that mean?”

“What part?”

“All of it. Or just - Elsking?”

He grabbed hold of my coat lapel and pulled me toward him, his smile turning wicked. Then, he said the word into my mouth. “Darling.”

He pressed his lips to mine and breathed in. The energy surged between us. I touched my fingers to the bare skin of his arm, and he pressed forward, pushing me back a step. I wrapped my arms around him to hold on, and he responded by touching his hands to my lower back, letting one hand drift down my backside. My body tensed to feel his hand move in such a way.

Oh my god, what is happening right now?

His kisses remained surface, slow presses of the lips, his breath hot, his mouth open. I pulled away to speak. He stilled me quickly, taking the invitation of my open mouth to pierce me with his tongue. I whimpered in response.

He pulled me into him, walking backward toward his bed. He dropped down on it, pulling me between his knees, my chest at eye level. He looked up at me, making eye contact as he slid his hand up under my breasts. I shivered and cried out at the electricity his touch seemed to cause. I almost grabbed him by the hair to recover from my giddy behavior and slammed his face into my tatas just to see the response. That was sexy vixen-like, wasn’t it? I didn’t do it. However well I knew this man, seeing this side was strange, almost frightening. This was the one piece of Stellan I truly didn’t know.

Instead he grabbed my jacket. “Damn it, take this off!”

I let it fall to the floor. My voice cracked when I spoke, like a nervous teenager. “Are we really doing this?”

His hands slid up under my arms, his breath warm against my nipples even through my clothes. “We better fucking be. I can’t wait to get my hands on these gorgeous tits of yours.”

I giggled against him and tried to pull away as he palmed my ass with both hands and scooped me over him onto the bed. He propped himself above me on all fours, smiling down between leaning in to kiss my neck, my collarbone, and my ear. I shivered with each new touch, running my hands up the back of his neck and letting my fingers run over the soft bristle of his hair. He lowered himself nose to nose with me and smiled against my lips. Then he pressed himself between my legs so I could feel him through his jeans. I drew a sharp breath and stifled a cry.

He seemed to like the sound, because he growled. Then he kissed me, roughly.

That kiss opened the gates. Something about the way he took hold of me, pressed his full weight on me - it made me desperate. I wrapped my legs around him, dragging my nails up under his shirt as I pressed my teeth against his shoulder and bit him. He growled again and began to move against me, a slow but deliberate rhythm.

We’re all adults here, so I’m just going to say it. Dear god, my pussy ached.

He whispered something in Swedish, and I grabbed his ass and pulled him against me, kissing him deeply. If he kept moving like that, I’d be having my first orgasm before either of us took off a single article of clothing. He pulled away, lifting himself to his knees and pulling his shirt off before me. He hovered there a moment, running his hands over my knees and down my thighs and smiling wickedly. I took a moment to stare up at him – at every contour of his body, faltering as I reached up to touch his bare chest, as though his skin might burn me. The sight of his body, solid from years of martial arts, stirred something primal in me.

“Are you hungry, Gullebit? I’m making your father some lunch if you want to come up.”

We both froze at his mother’s voice. She’d opened the basement door and called down, but we almost scattered from the bed like middle schoolers.

“Thank you hon, no. I’m all set,” Stellan called back.

She accepted and shut the basement door.

Stellan shook his head and stared at the mattress beneath us, laughing softly to himself. He patted my knee before running his hands over his head and slumping over on the bed. “Did that really just happen?”

I smiled and sat up, gesturing for him to kiss me. He did, and he smiled, reaching down to the front of his pants to reposition himself, grumbling. The moment, the momentum, the tension of the air deflated. Still, I longed for his warmth.

He exhaled, heavily. “I’m two seconds from walking you across the street to the Colonial Inn and getting a god damn room.”

I swallowed, feeling shy as I spoke. “My mom is out for the day?”

He turned and glared at me, silent. Then without a word, he grabbed his shirt, my jacket, and yanked me toward the stairs. His shirt wasn’t on until we reached the front door.

I wondered what his mother must’ve thought as we barreled past the kitchen and out of the house.

I reached the front path and felt his hands squeezing my back side as he passed me toward the driveway.

“Where are you going?” I asked, looking back at him as he unlocked the doors to the jeep. “It’s a five minute walk, if that.”

“Exactly. It’s a whole five minute walk. Get that sexy ass in this car, right now.”

My face burned as I buried it into the collar of my jacket, hiding my smile. I climbed into the passenger seat, and he grabbed me before I could buckle myself, slipping his tongue into my mouth and his hand between my thighs. I squealed and gripped his wrist before he could get anywhere dangerous and demanded that he drive. He obliged, with a little less concern for traffic laws than one would expect from a Virgo.

We were parked at my curb within sixty seconds, and I was hustling to get out of the jeep and into the house. He beat me to it and was in my living room, shirtless and shoeless before I even reached the door. He grabbed me at the threshold, kicking the door shut behind me as he pulled me in. His skin was hot even through the fabric of my shirt, and his body was solid.

I suddenly felt so very soft. He kissed my ear and whispered something in Swedish. His hands finally moved with purpose under my jacket, up my waist, and onto my breasts, squeezing them gently, but forcefully. I gasped and pulled away. I was suddenly so aware of what was happening, what was about to happen that I couldn’t go further.

Not yet.

He felt the apprehension and softened. “What’s wrong?”

I took three breaths, then swallowed. “You’re going to hate me.”

He gave me a gentle look, without expectation. His embrace remained firm, but his hands settled in a neutral zone. “What’s up?”

“I need a second – to shower. I’m gross as hell.”

“You are not, you smell like sunshine.” He ran his lips over my jaw to my ear. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

That was it. I pulled free, giggling nervously. “I do. I need to take a minute.”

He let me step away, still smiling. “Ok. Go take a shower - woman.”

I protested the stereotype, and he kissed my forehead before gently pushing me toward the stairs, smacking my ass as I hit the first step. I scurried into my bedroom, cast off my jacket and shoes before making a ridiculous ditch effort to collect scattered clothes from the foot of the bed and toss them into the closet. I went to the bathroom and turned on the water, listening to him downstairs. I brushed my teeth and went pee before suddenly freezing on the bath mat as the room filled with steam. For a moment, I couldn’t get undressed - as though he might feel my nudity through the floorboards. I scolded myself, stripping down and climbing into the claw foot tub, letting the water pour down my throat.

I stood there, slowly leaning into the water, staring down at my legs, my stomach, my breasts. I saw every soft inch of my body – the white lines at my breasts, the crease across my stomach when I bent at the middle, the softness at my inner thighs. Every inch of me now felt like a betrayal against my inner porn star. This was the body of a woman who had only ever had sex in the dark, under the covers. It was daylight, there were no curtains in the world dark enough to cover what I now saw. I fought to drown out the self-flagellating voice, hastily grabbing shower gel and shaving my legs, under my arms - hell, even my nether regions got a once over. Somehow my brain had decided I could potentially groom myself to a slender version of myself, but no matter how clean shaven and smooth my legs were, I still felt like cottage cheese squeezed into a sausage casing.

Fuck. Fuck.

He’s an Adonis, and you’re frumpy as hell.

Fuck.

I was so busy wishing I could use my Schick to shave off twenty pounds of rolly polly that I almost didn’t hear the bathroom door open. I froze, unable to even mutter his name as the shower curtain pulled aside, and Stellan stepped in behind me.

He groaned at the sight of me, but I kept my face forward, my eyes closed tight, as though I could will myself invisible. His energy was palpable in the small steamy space. I was exposed, unprotected. His body moved in behind mine, pulling me against his chest, as one hand slid across my stomach and the other ran over my hip and down my thigh.

Well, there’s no hiding now. He’s just managed to caress every flaw you have.

He pulled me into him, and I felt him hard against my backside. Flawed or no, his body didn’t seem to mind my rolly polly half as much as I did. He kissed my ear and slid his hands down the length of my arms to take the shower gel from me.

I swallowed hard.

He turned me to him. “Come here, beautiful.”

I pressed myself against him, shielding my body from view. He leaned in to kiss me before running his hands down my back. They were slick and soapy, finding their way down the back of my legs before he snuck one up between my cheeks. I squealed and wriggled away from his hand, but he just gave a wicked laugh and smiled, running his hands over my stomach and my breasts, watching his hands as he squeezed them.

“What? I’m just helping you get clean. That’s all.”

I sighed at the sensation, letting him walk me back under the water to rinse off. As the soap cleared away, he suddenly stooped down to take my nipple in his mouth. I gasped, running my hand up the back of his neck. He suddenly switched to the other breast. I cried out. Nothing had ever felt so good.

He groaned and rose to kiss me deeply. He grabbed my ass and pulled me against him. I let my hands rest at his chest, feeling the smooth skin and the small mound of his nipples, slippery under the running water. Without taking his tongue from my mouth, he grabbed my hand, moving it down. Oh my sweet Jesus, every inch of him was perfect – and hard, ladies and gentlemen. I grabbed him like I was playing Atari and let my hand move with gentle rhythm. He growled into my mouth and forcefully slipped his hand between my legs. I bent at the waist, trying to escape his touch without relinquishing my own. He wouldn’t let me, grabbing me and pulling me against him so I couldn’t squirm free. His fingers slipped into the wet that had gathered there and grazed against me in such a way that I simply gave in. Anything he might do at that moment, I would have welcomed. He slid his fingertips further down, and I ached to feel them inside me, but instead he pulled his hand away and before I could protest, slipped his fingers into his mouth to taste them.