Fall In Love Again (Serendipitous Love Book 3) Read online

  Or maybe something worse than that.

  Nixon was sleeping just like I remembered, sprawled out, lips parted, looking completely at peace. After the first time, we’d wordlessly made love again, then got in the shower and made love there too. I could only wonder at what was happening in his mid, but I was sure it was something like “mac + cheese, together again”. And why wouldn’t it be, after my dramatic-assed, breathless, mid-orgasm declaration of love?

  He didn’t respond immediately, and I almost hoped that I’d only said it in my head. I was aware, but still tipsy from overindulging at the bar in UG, so maybe it was just a trick of the mind. But then he spoke the words that I didn’t know I wanted to hear until he said it.

  “I love you too, Beautiful.”

  It wasn’t as if it was breaking news. Even if I hadn’t known it before last night, from the way he kissed me in the kitchen, to the way he easily slowed me down and took his time with me once we were in his apartment, he’d already communicated that sentiment before he said it. He was waiting on me to give him a green light, and in my alcohol soaked, emotionally fraught state, I’d given him exactly that, even though I was far from ready.

  I wouldn’t ever be ready, not for that.

  I rolled over onto my other side, retrieving my phone from the bedside table. Turning it on, the first thing I saw was seven missed calls. Two from Viv, four from Trent, and one from Adrian. My text message inbox looked about the same.

  “Cousin, you’re worrying me. Let me know you’re safe. – Viv”

  I smiled at the screen, then responded. “I’m okay… stayed with Nix. Talk about it later.”

  “!!!!!!!! SERIOUSLY?! WHAT HAPPENED?!?!!!!! – Viv”

  “Talk. About. It. Later.”

  “You’re such a tease. Okay. – Viv.”

  “Oh, and Trent is looking for you. – Viv.”

  Rolling my eyes, I backed out of the message exchange with Viv, and tapped on Trent’s name. I blew out a heavy sigh when I saw that he’d sent at least five texts in addition to the four missed phone calls.

  “Charlie… You’ve been gone for almost twenty minutes. That’s a mighty long trip to the bathroom. Are you okay? – Trent.”

  “Charlie, are you still in the coffee shop? I’ve been looking for you, and the woman I just asked says there’s no one in the bathroom. – Trent.”

  “Okay, so I guess you left. If you’re upset, fine, but you could have said that instead of leaving without saying anything. I’m going home. – Trent.”

  “Baby, I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to ruin your night with your friends. I was in the meeting from hell with Dionne before I stopped by, and seeing your ex all over you just put me in an ever worse mood. – Trent.”

  “Is this because of me touching you? Because you didn’t seem to mind it from Nixon, so I don’t get why it’s a problem for me to touch you. We’re dating. Touching happens. – Trent.”

  “Okay, I’m starting to get worried. Will you answer your door, please? I already know you’ve got your cousin covering for you, so… - Trent.”

  Ugh.

  As if I wasn’t already turned off enough about the “touching” he referred to, which was more like trying to make a soft porn in the middle of a crowded coffee shop, this long string of text messages, none of which I answered — or planned to answer — made his attractiveness plummet. If I wanted to deal with this kind of emotional reaction, I would get a damned girlfriend.

  I backed out of the text messages, and cleared all of the notifications. I pushed the phone back onto the bedside table and closed my eyes, suddenly feeling tired.

  Trent, Nixon, Adrian. Nixon, Adrian, Trent. Adrian, Trent, Nixon.

  Shit.

  This entire mess was honestly more than I felt like dealing with, especially when the only one of these men I felt an emotional attachment to was Nixon. I found my mind drifting into memories of the night before, hearing him tell me that the loved I wanted was right in front of me waiting. Wishing that I could fully believe that was true. Wondering if I could ever forget he’d looked me right in the face and told me he loved me, then slipped a ring — the ring I’d been yearning to receive — on my finger, knowing what he’d done. Knowing that it would hurt me.

  Last night I didn’t care.

  I was feeling the full weight of all the bullshit from Adrian, the emptiness of my life, the loneliness of my heart, and Nixon kissed me and took all of that away. I just wanted to escape, even if it was in the arms of the one person who’d scarred me more than anyone else.

  Because if nothing else, I knew he loved me. Only problem was, I loved him too, and… what would he be expecting, now that I’d said it?

  Macaroni and cheese, probably.

  My eyelids grew even heavier, and I reached for my phone again to check the time. It was only three in the morning, simultaneously too late and too early to continue letting this plague my mind. I let my eyes close again, and drifted to sleep.

  — & —

  I woke up to kisses on my neck.

  At first, they were soft, sweet pecks, delivered between quiet requests of wake up, Beautiful. I said nothing, and kept my eyes closed, but as soon as I was awake, they turned into something else. Wet, erotic, open-mouthed kisses, punctuated with a bite here, a suck there, and an occasional lick were Nixon’s way of marking me as his.

  As if I’d ever belonged to anybody else.

  He was behind me, with his arm tight around my waist and his erection hard against my back as he moved his tongue in slow, lazy circles at the top of my spine. I bit my lip, trying to suppress a moan.

  We shouldn’t be doing this. Not again.

  But then his hand moved to cup my breast, and both nipples peaked in response to his touch, and it felt so good that I didn’t want him to stop. His fingers were gentle, hot, and well-practiced, and his attention set off a throbbing at my core that overpowered common sense. He kissed his way across my shoulder, then back to my spine, then around to my neck as his fingers left my breasts to make the slow journey down my stomach, past my bellybutton, between my thighs.

  “Nix, wait…”

  My heart was racing, and my eyes welled with tears as he moved away from me, but a moment later he was balanced over me, his eyes filled with resignation.

  He already knew what I was going to say.

  “I’m sorry,” I choked out, running my fingers through the thick, soft hairs of his beard as I reached up to cup his face.

  Nixon shook his head. “Don’t be. I get it.” He gave me a little smile that was more sad than anything, but he flashed those dimples at me anyway. Then he lowered his forehead to touch mine, and before I could say or think anything, he was kissing me.

  And I was kissing him back.

  Now that I was sober, I could think clearly enough to know that this was a bad idea, but my body and my heart didn’t seem to give a shit about that. Five years of suppressed desire, and passion, and love for him broke free, and I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him close.

  He was heavy, but it felt good, having nothing between us as we kissed. Just his skin against mine, his hardness pressed against my stomach, our legs tangled together as teeth clicked, tongues mated, lips crashed in a kiss that was all hunger, no restraint.

  Finally, when we were out of breath, he pulled back, and moved away from me. I felt a sob building in my throat as he backed off the bed. The simultaneous anguish and adoration in his eyes was more than I could take, and I suddenly couldn’t understand or justify hurting him like this.

  “Nixon, I—“

  “Shh.”

  I shivered as he placed his hand on the back of my calf, then raised my leg, bringing my foot up to his mouth. One by one, he kissed my toes, then the bottom of my foot, then the top. A shuddering breath left my chest as he kissed his way from my ankle to my knee, then repeated the same tease on the other leg. When he gently nudged my knee, a directive for me to open my thighs, there was no hesitation. I spread
them eagerly, trembling with anticipation, and he licked, kissed, and sucked a path all the way up to the apex of my thighs.

  He kissed me there, with the same quiver-inducing passion, hunger, and intensity that he’d kissed my lips. He pushed his fingers inside to stroke me while he covered me with his mouth, flicking his tongue, and sucking, and nibbling, and licking, until a pleasant buzz of static began to fill my ears. He dipped his tongue inside me, moving in conjunction with his fingers for a moment until he dragged it slowly upward to cover me, igniting tingles of electricity all over my skin as he went. With one hand, he stroked me, while the other hand lovingly groped and kneaded my ass.

  I had his head cupped in my hands, keeping them there while I shameless rocked my hips upward against his face, keeping the rhythm he’d set as I rode his fingers.

  “Nix,” I moaned, threading my fingers through his hair. “You’re…. you’re… oh my God…”

  “Is this good for you?” He stopped devouring me just long enough to ask, then his mouth was on me again, hot, and wet, and hell yes, good.

  “Y-yeah,” I managed to breathe, biting my lip as he plunged his fingers further.

  “What about that?”

  “Yes.”

  He pulled back a little, moving his tongue in deliberately slow circles and zigzags, sending my already stimulated flesh into such a frenzy that I propped myself on my elbows, panting as I watched. “That feels good?”

  “Yes.”

  A little smile spread over his face, and then he plunged his fingers deep as he covered my clit with his mouth and sucked hard, lapping the sensitive nub with his tongue. I… saw stars. A sound I didn’t even know I could make escaped my throat as my whole body tensed, and held, and then released. A feeling of unadulterated bliss swept over me as time slowed down, rippling around me as I rode the prolonged wave of ecstasy. My ears were still ringing by the time I felt in control of my body, and when I opened my eyes, Nixon was looking at me, with something like amazement in his gaze.

  “I take it you liked that?” he asked, in a low voice that sent shivers up my spine. Still panting, I nodded, but Nixon shook his head. “Speak up for me baby, I wanna hear you. Did. You. Like. That?”

  My chest began to heave, and I swallowed hard, wetting my suddenly dry throat so I could answer. “Yes.”

  “Yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  Nixon sat up on his knees, catching me by the ankles and opening me wide to prop my legs on his shoulders. He looked me right in the eyes, watching my reaction as he entered me, slowly, pushing deeper until he was as far as the position allowed.

  And then he started to move.

  A slow, steady, deep stroke that made me bite my lip as he pushed in, and exhale as he pushed out. He felt incredible, thick, and wide, and heavy inside me, pulling whimpers, coos, and moans from my throat as he worked. One hand teased my nipples, while he brought the other up to push the fingers that had been inside me into my mouth.

  “See how good you taste, baby?”

  He smiled when I licked them clean, then teasingly sucked and licked as if it were him in my mouth. A moment later, he moved my legs from his shoulders, draping them around his waist so we could be closer. I cupped his face in my hands as he pushed harder, and hell yes, faster, in breathtaking, intoxicatingly deep strokes that made my heart flutter.

  “You feel… fucking amazing,” he growled into my ear, hooking his arm under my knee so he could push even deeper. “Is this good for you?”

  “Yes,” I moaned, digging my nails into his back as pressure began to mount at my core.

  He pressed his mouth to my neck, pounding faster. “What about now?”

  “Hell yes.”

  “Tell me again.”

  “Hell yes.”

  Nixon sat up, grabbing my ankles and pushing them up by my ears as he buried himself in me over and over, skin slapping skin, both of us sweating, and cursing, and praising the lord, and rocketing closer and closer to release.

  “Nixon,” I whimpered, dragging my hands down to grip his ass. “Please don’t stop.”

  “Don’t stop?”

  “Please.”

  He chuckled, then groaned a little as I rocked my hips into his. “Don’t stop until when?”

  “Never.”

  “Never?”

  “Never. Don’t. Ever. Stop,” I breathed, looking up to meet his eyes.

  Smiling, he lowered his mouth to mine, sucking my bottom lip between his. “Whatever you want, baby.”

  For some reason, that made me wetter, and somehow he slipped deeper, making me cry out in pleasure.

  “Goddamnit Nix,” I said through clenched teeth, grinding my head into the bed as my legs began to jerk and tremble. I repeated his name as pressure built, and it seemed to spur him on.

  “Whose pussy is this?” he asked, looking me right in the eyes as he kept stroking, not breaking rhythm, just pushing me closer, and closer, and…

  “It’s yours.”

  “Tell me again.”

  “It’s yours.”

  And then I was falling, falling, falling into an orgasm so intense that I lurched away from the bed, wrapping my arms around Nix’s neck as I came. He freed my legs, but kept pounding until he came with a guttural groan in my ear, while I still pulsed around him.

  It took a minute for me to see straight or feel anything, and when I became fully aware again, Nix still had me wrapped in his arms. We were sitting up now, somehow, with me in his lap, still full of him as I relaxed into his embrace. I don’t know how long we stayed like that, but the light in the room changed from dusky to bright before he finally let me go, and pulled back to see my face.

  I didn’t feel like it was fair to him, for me to shed the tears when I was the one rejecting his offer. Still, I couldn’t help the tears that escaped, dripping onto my cheeks before he reached up to wipe them away.

  “Don’t,” he murmured, cupping my chin in his hands. “This… this is my own doing. I fucked up… I know.” He gave me a wry smile, then wiped away a fresh wave of tears as they trickled down my face. “I just wish you could forgive me.”

  I licked my lips, sniffling before I looked up to meet his gaze.

  “So do I.”

  — & —

  Thank God for break room lockers.

  I’d just finished using Nixon’s bathroom to take a shower, and when I stepped out, there was a change of clothes waiting for me. He’d gone downstairs to retrieve one of the several sets I kept in my locker — never knew what might happen in the kitchen — and I was grateful that my exit from his apartment didn’t have to be a walk of shame in my partying clothes from the night before.

  I dressed quickly, not wanting to prolong the awkwardness of me being there, knowing that both of our emotions were raw. When I exited the bathroom, Nix was standing at the window, holding a cup of coffee in his hands as he stared out over the street.

  This was a ritual of his, a moment of quiet reflection while he finished his first morning dose of caffeine. He hadn’t dressed yet, but had put on boxers, and the picture he made, a picture I’d woken up to many, many mornings was easily a photographer’s dream.

  As if he felt my eyes on him, he inclined his head, glancing over his shoulder. When he saw me standing there, he turned around, and the set of his jaw told me something had shifted.

  “You want some coffee?” he asked casually, contradicting the tension in his shoulders and frustration in his eyes.

  I shook my head, then headed for the bedside table to retrieve my purse and phone.

  “Trent called.”

  My hands stilled a few inches over the phone, and my heart slammed to the front of my chest. “Nixon, you—“

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t answer it. It started ringing, I glanced at the screen and saw his name. That’s all.”

  Relief swept over me. The last thing I needed, on top of everything, was the reoccurrence of a high school feud. “Thanks for letting me kn
ow.”

  “You’re welcome,” Nixon said, putting his coffee down on the desk as he ambled toward me. “So I guess you’re gonna run back to him now?”

  I lifted an eyebrow as I pushed my phone into my purse and closed it. “Is that a problem?”

  “Charlie…” Nix paused, chuckling as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, Charlie. It’s a fucking problem.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because you said you loved me. I’m supposed to be okay with that muthafucka getting to have you, after what happened between us last night and this morning?”

  “You said you understood,” I said, struggling to keep my voice from creeping into a scream. “Not even two hours ago, you told me you “got” it!”

  “Well I lied, okay? Because no, I don’t get why you can entertain ole boy who you don’t even really give a shit about, while I’m right fucking here, trying to love you, and you reject it! No, Charlie, I don’t understand that.”

  I shook my head, breathing out a heavy sigh. “Am I in the goddamned twilight zone right now? You don’t understand why I’m not falling all over myself to be back with you?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I don’t understand why you won’t even give me another freaking chance. How long am I gonna have to atone for that one mistake?”

  “I’m not asking you to “atone” for anything, Nixon. I am well within my rights to choose what I will and won’t accept, and I decided not to accept the bullshit that you did — not me.”

  He scoffed, tilting his head back toward the ceiling as he laughed. “So you were little miss perfect in the situation, huh Charlie? Your actions didn’t set anything in motion? The bullshit you did had nothing to do with any of it?”

  “Don’t you fucking dare.” Before I could think twice about it, I was in Nixon’s face, nostrils flared, face pulled into a scowl that probably matched his. “Yeah, Nixon. Okay. I shouldn’t have pushed you. Shouldn’t have made you choose. Okay, I’ll accept that. But what you won’t goddamned do, is act like I made your grown ass do anything. We could have recovered from my bullshit. Did recover from it, remember? So while you’re passing out blame, trying to act like I’m not justified in my unwillingness to jump back into your arms… remember that you’re the reason we aren’t together in the first place.”