Finding Faith (6 page)

My greedy hands committed his chest and stomach to memory, continuing on a downward path with my eyes following. His rigid muscles tensed under me, making me look up to meet his gaze again.

He was in control when he first showed up, but now it was my turn to take what I wanted, and I wasn’t taking any prisoners. I lightly skimmed over the outside of his very tight jeans, delicately grazing over the thick bulge.

“Oh, God, John.” I closed my eyes tipping my head back, breaking our connection and took in a deep breath, my breasts rubbed harder against John’s still clothed chest. The already tender nipples puckered more in response to his body. With my index finger, I slowly traced the outline of his cock, letting the palm of my hand trail behind as I went. A soft groan escaped my lips as he grew even more under my touch.

I bit my lip to stop any more noises from escaping.

John rested his forehead against mine. “Faith, I’ve missed you so much,” he said, letting out a painful groan.

He buried his face in the crook of my neck kissing and licking in slow desperation up to a sensitive spot he knew I had under my ear. His hips rolled with my touch.

His hand moved to one breast, needing more from me, tweaking and rolling my nipple. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, teasing me back into a frenzy. He couldn’t get enough of me, or from me. He had to have contact with my skin in some way. It had been too long. We were on a sinking ship and he was doing all he could to make us stay afloat. If we stopped the contact, we would drown for sure.

“It’s always been you Faith,” he whispered. “And it can be us again now that I’ve found you.”

His words were like a cold pail of water dumping all over me, making me stop what I had been doing. It couldn’t be us again. Not now. Not ever. I can’t be doing this to him again.

I slipped out from under John’s hard body and harder stare, fumbling as I went. John was left hovering over, his eyes closed in frustration.

I sat up, filling an open space at the end of the couch closest to his head. In an attempt to rid his face of a look that made me feel guilty, I ran a hand into his mussed up hair. Not wanting to get emotional, I ran the same hand down the side of his face to his jaw, tipping his face up to meet mine. His eyes opened but he didn’t speak. My thumb found the day’s worth of stubble and stroked it. The coarse hair felt foreign.

When I didn’t think my voice would crack I murmured, “You better go before I hurt you some more.” I was trying to come off stronger than I felt.

Afraid I was still weak-kneed, I slowly stood, testing my weight, tightly rewrapping the robe, wanting to seem that I had my wits about me even though they were two sheets to the wind. I headed for the door, hoping he wouldn’t force a conversation I didn’t want to have.

John closed his eyes again, dropping his head back down between his intimidating forearms where I had been. The veins running up from his hands into his arms throbbed wildly. I wanted to run my tongue over them and taste him. I needed to stop thinking like that or he would never leave.

He stood up, snatched his coat off the ground where he’d dropped it, and looked at me angrily.

“I won’t give up as easy this time,” he said turning toward me, his green eyes hard as steel.

I knew that look. It was the “I’m not fucking around glare.” On a visceral level, I sensed he meant every word, sending pin pricks over my entire scalp.

When he left, I slammed the door on him, needing to get away from the dominant man who I was unfamiliar with but strongly attracted to before I yanked him back in and finished what he had started.

The instant the door was shut my legs gave out, causing my limp body to fall against the door making a loud thud. I only hoped John had made it to the elevator so he didn’t hear it.

My eyes grazed over the expanse of the condo to the small book shelf that only housed two books. Needing to clear my head, I went into the kitchen and got myself a glass of white wine. Once filled to the brim, I headed back down the hall that was as dark as my soul felt lately to remake my bubble bath and toss out Ben and Jerry. John made sure there would be no threesome tonight.

Before I made it back to the tub, with wine sloshing perilously close to the edge of the glass, I padded my way to the living room window toward a pull I couldn’t control.

The chilled wine was putting out a raging fire as it hit my lips. As I swallowed down the sweet drink in big gulps, I glanced down to see the street below and almost choked at what I saw. John was standing alone on the empty sidewalk like he was waiting for something.

It couldn’t be. His head was turned up in the direction of my place so there was no doubt it was him. My stomach churned at the gorgeous sight.

I forgot how beautiful and masculine he was. The black leather jacket hung off his broad shoulders, highlighting his fair but sharp features, making him look dangerous.

What was he still doing here? Was I not blunt enough? He better have gotten the hint. I don’t think I could chase him away again. Actually, I was positive I couldn’t.

God, I had too.

I didn’t want to lock eyes with him and give any sign of interest, so I backed away from the window. Once a safe distance away, I turned and sprinted to the bath with only the flutter of my curtains as evidence that I had seen.

The encounter from beginning to end scrambled my brain. I had plenty of boyfriends over the years since moving here, never doubting my sex life was good until tonight. Had he always been that way? Surely I would remember.

As I closed my eyes and started to let the tension drain, my doorbell rang. Damn it! That was always his problem. He always tried so hard to make me happy, not wanting to leave until he saw me content. Except for the night it really mattered. The night I thought for sure he’d follow after, but didn’t. This time I stomped out of my bathroom to the front door. I was a woman on the war path.

I swung the door open and yelled, “Damn it, John. I told you we can’t get involved.” When I stopped my blind outburst I saw Grace standing in front of me.

“Well, hi to you too bestie. I came over to make sure you weren’t chopped up into little pieces by the new guy. He is nicknamed Killer after all. Mike and I are going to watch a movie, wanna come over?” Grace asked, waving a movie case in front of me with a big axe on the cover.

“I’m fine.” Not really, but I wasn’t about to tell the nosiest girl in town I was left sexually frustrated and it was my own damn fault.

“Tell Mike I’m sorry for not being much fun tonight.” I blew off the tirade, acting like it hadn’t happened. Not wanting to answer any of her questions.

“Don’t worry about Mike, I have that covered,” Grace answered with a wave of her hand and giddy laugh. I let out a relieved breath that questioning was averted by the subject change.

My luck ran out once her boobs came to a halt a minute after she had. “What’s this about not getting involved? Did John do something to hurt you?” Grace’s brow creased with concern over me.

I rolled my eyes in response, not wanting to talk. “No, he didn’t hurt me.” He did everything but hurt me, I silently answered. “I just can’t get involved with anyone now, Grace, you know that. Since he showed up I didn’t want to lead him on that’s all.”

“Whatever, Faith, he’s a hottie, I don’t understand why not. For someone who doesn’t know you, he sure seemed worried about you.”

If there was ever a moment I was glad I had never told Grace about John this was it. Judging by her reaction, he obviously didn’t tell her our history.

“This problem with Brad will be over soon enough. It’s not like you’re guilty of anything and aren’t worthy of love. If anything it’s the opposite. You deserve much more love than you get from the jerks you date.”

“Thanks, pot calling the kettle black, now go back to your date with Barney,” I said with a flick of my wrist, forcing a fake smile to make my friend feel better. I didn’t want to hear Grace’s usual speech. I knew my self-esteem was shot dead in the water and I didn’t need her to remind me of it. Nothing would build it back up anytime soon so it didn’t matter.

Grace sighed, “He doesn’t look like Barney, knock it off.” Now Grace rolled her eyes at me, her arms crossed over her size Ds.

“If you say so, now let me get back to my bath,” I said, shutting the door on the biggest gossip of the building.

I decided to make it a cold one.

The sweet scent I had inhaled from where she laid under me on the couch was infused in my nose. When I lifted my head to dodge her scent to not torture my hard cock anymore, the smell of summer flowers in her condo took me back to her old bedroom.

I pictured the girl who left me years ago. We would lie on her twin bed after school, curled up together. I would rest my head in her lap and she would run her delicate fingers through my hair, playing with it while we talked about what our future would be. Marriage, kids, even a dog. She would stay home with the kids while I worked.

But this was the new reality. I was never supposed to see any of this, her home, her life. She moved on and never planned to include me.

Now outside, I wondered how I ended up staring at the glow coming from her apartment. The thought made my blood boil. I thought the noise I heard in my ears was the wind from the winter night, but it was the blood rushing into them.

A shadow came into view. It couldn’t be. A soft profile appeared. Was she looking for me? That was the only sign I needed. I wouldn’t give up. But if I stood here any longer watching her, the zipper of my jeans would burst if my cock twitched one more time, asking for release.

On my walk back to my truck I enjoyed the chilly wind that whipped at my throbbing body. The slight relief it gave made me feel marginally better. I still had a hard-on, but it diminished quite a bit. Nothing I couldn’t wait and take care of once I got home.

I was in a shock. The woman I planned to propose to years ago, but lost my nerve, kicked me out flat on my ass. I didn’t even know how I contained myself. I wanted to go back, force myself inside and kiss her until she realized that she was mine.

Then it sunk in, the same thought I had while in her place. The warm condo and warmer woman I left mere minutes ago were never meant to be seen by my eyes. Faith never wanted me to find her. She moved on, never looking back, not wanting me to be a part of the new life that she created.

Maybe she did mean it when she said she didn’t love me. If she loved me, would she have done that to me? I wasn’t going to let her off that easy. I wanted answers. I wanted her.

The only thing I did know positively was the woman I tried to seduce up in that condo wasn’t my ex-girlfriend.

Faith was strong-willed, self-assured, fun. I didn’t recognize the stranger I was storming away from.

The last night we saw each other we met at a deserted baseball field. We favored one of the dugouts because the backside faced the street to help keep our extracurricular activities from prying eyes.

When the dugouts were new they had been a royal blue, not a chip in the entire enclosure. Over the years, with lack of upkeep, it had turned into a faded peeling shell.

It was a miracle that the slightest breeze didn’t tip it over. The condition didn’t matter to me. I only saw it as it had been when we’d first found our secret spot while in high school.

I realized it was juvenile to want to meet in our former high school rendezvous, but I couldn’t resist. I needed to use all of my secret weapons tonight. Feeling the hard box in my front pocket, I knew I had to convince her to stay.