Intimate (28 page)

Spoke the final
truth before the heat and hunger took over. “Forever.”

She almost
sobbed, a couple of tears streaming from the corners of her eyes to slide in
glittering trails down into her hair. “Me too. Forever.”

His heart pounded
in time to the throbbing of his arousal so he picked up his rhythm again.

She was so hot.
And so tight. And so everything he ever wanted.

He pumped into
her faster and suddenly couldn’t bear to be parted from her in any way. So he
closed the distance between them again and claimed her mouth in a breathless
kiss.

Even against
his mouth, Marissa made helpless sounds of increasing pleasure. Her body was
grinding against his, building the sensation for both of them, deepening the
intensity of their motion until their kiss finally broke.

He let out a
rough groan of frustration as he felt his balls start to draw in. Marissa’s
face blurred beneath him, and there was a buzzing in his ears. “Marissa, come, baby,
come.”

“Yeah. Yeah,
coming. Soon.”

It had better
be soon. Caleb’s motion was hard and urgent now. He was so excruciatingly
close. “Love you, baby,” he rasped, trying to clear his vision so he could
watch her face. “Love you. Come.”

“Love,” she gasped,
but she couldn’t finish her response. Her back arched up violently, and she let
out a wordless cry of release as her body quaked beneath him, her orgasm coming
hard and overwhelming.

Overwhelming
for both of them. He felt her muscles clamp down around him, but he didn’t make
it past the second hard contraction.

His cry of
relief matched Marissa’s, as all the need and love and fear and joy and
pleasure drew up into one shattering wave.

He collapsed on
her unthinkingly afterwards, utterly spent and limp with consummation and
tenderness. She pulled him closer, held him with both her arms and her legs.
Whispered words that he couldn’t really decipher, but he understood them
anyway.

Understood they
all were love.

They lay
together in breathless connection, and Caleb knew—unequivocally—that their
union was final. There was no going back. No escape route. No boundaries. Not
for him. Not for her.

And he couldn’t
imagine ever wanting that again.

Finally, Marissa
said, “Uh, sweetie, that was incredible, but I’m starting to feel a little bit
squished.” Despite her dry words, both of her hands were stroking over his back
lovingly.

He rolled them
both to their sides again, but didn’t let her out of his arms. “Sorry. I seem
to be worn out.”

“Poor thing.
You did make a little exertion just now. Twice.”

It took a few
minutes for them to catch their breath, but then she squeezed him in a sudden
hug.

“What was that
for?” he asked into her hair, trying to find the energy to raise his head.

“Just because I’m
so happy right now.”

Looking at her
face, he had to believe her.

“And it’s not
just because I love you and feel so good right now,” she went on. "It’s
because I wanted this for you as much as me. I want
you
to be happy, Caleb.
Even happier than me.”

“I
am
happy.” He kissed her, trying to show her how deeply he felt for her, but then
he felt her shaking against him in a familiar way.

“Are you
laughing?” he asked. “I seem to recall you laughing the first time we kissed
too.”

“I wasn’t
laughing. I promise. I was…”

“You were
what?”

“I was just
feeling giddy.”

“Giddy?”

“Yes. Giddy.
There. I admitted it. I feel giddy.”

Looking at her
beaming face, he had to make a few private admissions of his own.

He would never
admit it to anyone, and he would deny it outright with straight face and steady
gaze, if ever questioned about this moment.

But the cold,
hard truth was this.

Caleb was
feeling a little giddy himself.

Marissa woke up with her face in
Caleb’s armpit.

It wasn’t the
worst place in the world to find oneself, since he‘d taken a shower before bed
the previous night and hadn‘t exerted himself since, but the position made her
cheeks uncomfortably hot, damp, and sticky.

It momentarily
felt like she was suffocating.

Upon awaking,
she jerked her head to the side, gasping harshly, and then she flopped her body
over to give herself some space and fresh air. Glancing at the clock, she
realized it was only six-thirty in the morning—far too early to rise on a
weekend.

Caleb appeared
to still be asleep, since his eyes were closed, his body relaxed, and his
breathing deep and even. So Marissa yanked some of the covers away from him and
pulled them up to her neck.

Her face was
still hot, but the room was cool, and she was only wearing a little satin
nightgown, which she’d bought a few days ago to impress Caleb, since the rest
of her sleeping attire consisted of simple cotton and flannel.

The strappy,
black lingerie had been a big success when she‘d first unveiled it on
Wednesday.

It hadn’t been
so successful last night.

They’d gone to the
end-of-season party for the symphony orchestra and had gotten in late. Caleb
had resigned his position, so everyone was saying goodbye. He didn’t have
another job lined up yet, but he was looking around and considering options. He
made more than enough to live on with private performances and weddings, so
there wasn’t any real urgency.

Marissa always
spent the night with him on the weekends, so she’d changed into her new
lingerie. But then they’d had a ridiculous argument about Caleb’s annoying
habit of not twisting the cap of the toothpaste on all the way.

Despite her
sexy nightgown, they’d both been huffy when they went to sleep.

She turned on
her side so she could watch him sleep this morning. Whenever Caleb was awake,
he was fiercely alive—passionate, brilliant, and vibrant—so she liked to
occasionally see him so completely at peace.

She was the
only one who really got to see him this way. It made her shudder with
possessive tenderness.

She shifted,
settling in more comfortably so she could keep watching him but also relax her
neck. When she jerked the bedcovers one more time to get a little cozier, however,
he gave a short grunt and pried his eyes open just slightly.

His expression
was decidedly grumpy when he jerked the covers back to where they had been.

Marissa scowled
at him—more for fun than out of any real animosity. “You have all the covers,
and I’m freezing,” she complained, tugging some more on the sheet.

Caleb tugged
back. “I do not have them all. You just want to roll up in them. I have about
two inches to spare over here.”

“Not true.
I
have about two inches. And there’s nothing wrong with rolling up in them. Stop
being such a cover-hog.” She was exaggerating just a bit, but she knew that
Caleb must be exaggerating as well, since it was a normal-sized sheet so
someone had more than two inches to spare.

She fought him
for the covers, doing her best not to giggle at his grouchy expression and his
stubborn resistance.

Finally, he
gave up and muttered, “If you weren’t all the way on the other side of the bed,
we wouldn’t be having this juvenile dispute.”

“I was stuck in
your armpit when I woke up, and I needed some space, so I rolled back over to
my side.”

He raised his
eyebrows quizzically. “You were stuck in my armpit?”

“Yes.” Marissa
scooted over until she was closer to him, which made their fight over the
covers irrelevant. She wasn’t sure why, but she was finding their silly
argument strangely exhilarating and was waiting for the right moment to launch
an assault on Caleb’s mostly naked body—to make up for their lack of sex last
night.

“No wonder my
arm is stiff.” He stretched the arm that had been wrapped around her as they
slept. “With you lying on top of it all night.”

She’d thought
they’d been having a good-natured tiff, but she started to get worried when his
expression didn’t soften, as it usually did when they were alone together. Maybe
he was still annoyed from last night.

“I’m sorry. I
know guys don't like all the cuddling. I’ll try to stay on my side if you
want.”

Caleb rolled
his eyes. “Did I say that?” He reached out and pulled her over until she was
pressed up against his chest. “I just said my arm was stiff. I wasn’t making a
universal statement about our sleeping arrangements. Why are you so sensitive
this morning?”

“I’m not being
sensitive. You looked crabby, and I know you like your space.”

Her words
lingered in the air strangely, echoing back to all the times during the last
ten years when he’d told her she was in his space.

“It’s our space
now,” he said at last.

This was
exactly the right thing to say. She grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss.

When they
parted, she settled herself beside him and sighed contentedly as he rubbed her
back.

Slowly, his
hand slid lower as they lay companionably together, until it reached the hem of
her nightgown, just at the top of her thigh. A familiar spark ignited in his
eyes as he discovered for the first time that she wasn’t wearing panties.

“I was just
trying something new,” she explained, soft laughter rippling out at his
expression.

 He moved so
suddenly she squeaked, pushing her onto her back and rolling on top of her. “What
were you trying?”

Her body
tightened at the sound of his husky voice and the hot possessiveness of his
expression. “Just trying to see if I could not be a good girl all the time.”

His face
changed. “I like you as a good girl.”

She felt an
unexpected tightening of emotion at the sincerity she saw in his expression.

Then he added,
his gaze growing hotter again. “I also like you without underwear.”

She laughed
again.

“Now. Did you
want to fight about the covers some more, or did you want to do something
else?”

“Something
else, please.” She smiled at him affectionately, despite the way her body was
starting to react.

He shifted down
and mouthed one breast over her nightgown until the black satin was moist and
her nipple was tightly peaked. At the same time, his fingers were busy elsewhere.
She wriggled and shivered as his hands and mouth worked her over, until she
finally demanded—after a low, pitiful moan of pleasure—"Enough, Caleb. I’m
about to scream.”

Caleb raised
his head and looked at her inquisitively. “Really?”

She was flushed,
tingling, and very wet, but she managed to curl her lip disdainfully. “But I
won’t. Your ego doesn’t need any more stroking.”

“If you won’t
stroke my ego, maybe—”

“Don’t even say
it.” But, since he was grinning so endearingly, she reached out and found
another part of him to stroke.

As she ran her
fingers up and down the length of his hard flesh, he closed his eyes and
exhaled in pleasure. She was really getting into it when he opened his eyes,
leaned down, and kissed her full on the lips.

Always adaptable,
Marissa kept up her massage but kissed him back enthusiastically. She put up a
pretty good defense against the assault of his tongue, and they were both
breathless when Caleb finally drew back.

“Any special
requests?” he murmured.

“We’ve done
enough of my special requests. We should do one of your special requests this
morning.”

 “My special
request is to make you come as hard and as often as possible.”

She shook with
hilarity, although the words, in that gravelly voice, were definitely hot.

His eyes narrowed
with feigned disapproval. “It wasn’t supposed to be a joke.”

“I know. You
should keep talking that way, and you’ll really turn me on.” She managed to
subdue her giggles. “But seriously. Didn’t you ever have dreams or fantasies
about me before we got together?”

Caleb gave a
muffled burst of laughter. “If only you knew how ironic that question is.”

“So you did?”

“You have no
idea.” He moved his head away from her lips so he could kiss her mouth.

“Well, tell me
about them, and then maybe we can make them real. I don’t always have to be a
good girl.”

“I told you I
like you as—”

“I know. But I might
want to do them. Tell me.”

“Most of them
weren’t really very exotic. In one, we just made love on the couch.”

“Well, we’ve
already done that, so I’m already a step ahead. What else?”

Caleb opened
his mouth, but closed it again.

“What?” she
prompted. “Did you remember one that might work?”

He gave her
smoldering look.

She almost
hugged herself in anticipation. “So what was it? Can we do it now? It doesn’t
require any props or special locales, does it?”

He hesitated. “No.
But it would work better if we didn’t plan ahead.” He licked a line across her
jaw. “I’ll surprise you.”

Realizing
intuitively that he was going to be stubborn about this, Marissa sighed in
resignation. “All right. Surprise me with it sometime. But what should we do
now, then?”

Caleb rolled
onto his back and turned his head to look at the clock on the bedside table.
“Damn. You can do anything you want on your own, but I’ve got to take a shower
and get going.”

She let out an
outraged squeak. “What? Now? What the hell?”

“I have that
wedding. It takes at least an hour to get there, and I have to rehearse
beforehand with the pianist. I didn’t realize it was so late.” He heaved
himself out of bed and stood looking down at her, mostly naked and sporting an
impressive erection.

“But I thought
you wanted to have sex this morning.”
She
certainly had—she’d gotten all
excited and everything.

“I did, but
that that was a half hour ago. We did the talking instead, and I don’t have
time now. I’m sorry, baby, but I’ll make it up to you later.” He didn’t look
happy, but she didn’t think he looked properly remorseful either. Mostly just
matter-of-fact, as if he was already thinking about music.

She scowled at
him. “But you’re all ready to go.” She gestured down at his erection to
emphasize her point.

He leaned over
and gave her another quick peck on the side of the mouth. “I’ll take care of it
in the shower.”

She lay in bed,
glaring at the closed bathroom door for a minute, listening to him turn on the
water.

Then, inspired,
she jumped up, threw off her nightgown, and joined Caleb in the shower.

After all, he
might need some help.

***

Late that same evening, they
were returning to Marissa’s apartment after having gone out to dinner at the
same restaurant where they’d had their first date.

They’d made out
a little in the cab on the drive home, with Caleb getting much touchier than he
usually was when they weren’t alone.

As they rode up
the elevator, Marissa was feeling kind of mushy, remember getting rained on
with him and then what had followed.

She’d grabbed
him and kissed him. It had taken all the courage she had.

They walked in
the door, and Marissa stood in the entrance, staring as Caleb’s face took on an
unusual expression. She hoped nothing was wrong, because she was flushed and
aroused, and her nipples were poking out insistently through the thin fabric of
her dress from all the stimulation Caleb had given them in the car.

“What—”

She never
finished her question.

He pushed her back
against the wall and pressed the whole, hard length of his body into hers.

“Oh,” Marissa
grunted in surprise and pleasure, but any more words were muffled by his hungry
mouth, which had claimed hers in an urgent kiss. His tongue ravaged her mouth,
the force of the kiss pushing her head back against the wall.

She could do
nothing but cling to Caleb’s shoulders, feeling far different from the last
time he had trapped her against the wall in this same entryway—when she'd had a
panic attack and pushed him away.

Now, her body
was washed with hot waves of desire, and she wanted Caleb to take her hard and
fast.

When he finally
tore his mouth away and followed a line down her jaw, she gasped, “God, Caleb,
I need you now. Please take me to bed.”

“Not to bed.” His
hands were under her dress, at the edge of her lace panties. “Here.”

She squealed in
delight as he savagely ripped her panties—she hadn’t realized before that
people actually did that in real life. He tossed the shredded fabric onto the
floor, and his fingers found her wet arousal.

She moaned low
in her throat. “One of your fantasies?”

“A dream.” He
reached into her low neckline and pulled out one of her breasts. He leaned over
to take it in his mouth, making her writhe helplessly against the wall.

“Caleb.” She
fumbled clumsily in an attempt to unfasten his pants. “Hurry.”

Instead of
helping her undo his pants, he knelt on the floor in front of her. Marissa
sucked in her breath as she realized what his plan was, and then sucked it in
even more when he pushed up her skirt and nuzzled between her thighs.

Automatically
widening her stance to make room for him, she pushed back against the wall for
support. Her hands flew to clutch his head at the first flick of his tongue,
and her fingers tightened as he fluttered over her clit.

She cried out
incoherently, already absurdly close to climax and unable to form real words.
She tried to pump her hips, instinctively seeking a familiar rhythm.

He raised his
hands to hold her pelvis still in a bruising grip, and she whimpered as the
tantalizing motion of his tongue sent out shocks of pleasure.