Read In the Nick of Time Online

Authors: Tiana Laveen

Tags: #Fiction

In the Nick of Time (31 page)

She feels so goddamn warm!

“Uhhh, God…” She sighed, her eyes rolled back, and she broke their kiss. Snatching her chin back towards him, he took her lower lip into his mouth and sucked it hard, then softly, as his fingers sprawled across the back of her head. Moving in slow, controlled thrusts, he grinded between her legs, rotating just so, back and forth… giving her a tiny taste of what he could do.

“Ohhhhh….shiiiit,” she slurred as she moved her pelvis against his timed rotations until they were moving to the same sensual, illicit rhythm. Before he knew it, they were in sync to the beat of her music, too…back…and forth…back…and forth… He anchored himself just so, ensuring that the length of his hardened cock rocked against her clit at each beautifully tortuous grind and rotation. Unable to resist a second longer, he slicked his tongue deep within her wet, hot mouth, indulging on the taste of her kiss…

Goddamn!

“Quiero tener sexo contigo!” (I want to have sex with you)

Yeah, he wanted to have sex with her—bad!

He draped his hands around her hips, twisting his groin faster and harder into her as his eyes flashed open, catching the woman staring at him. He could see it in her expression…

Yeah, she felt that, too…

His cock rose to the damn occasion, pushing into her zone, trying to tear away the material of her damn coat, burrow through her jeans, grind away her panties, and slide inside her damn pussy…

“Uhhh!” They moaned in unison, falling apart in each other’s arms. With frantic fingers, she dug into his hair, pushing and pulling his strands as he dry fucked her against the big trunk, wishing he could in some way slip inside of her right then and there. “Mmmm! Quiero probarte!!!”

“Ahhh, what are you saying?”

“I said I want to
taste
you!”

“Mmmm! Oh…God…Ni…Nick…” She broke away, her eyes glassy, her breathing harsh as her chest frantically rose up and down under the layers of her clothing.

“What?” He didn’t stick around to keep looking at her. Instead, he buried his lips in the crevice of her neck, making her shudder and coo as he trailed his tongue along the side of her neck while, with his hand, he explored her shoulder, keeping her oh so near.

“We gotta…we gotta stop.” She panted, suddenly aware of her surroundings. He ceased his kissing and looked into her eyes once more. “We’ll get busted.” She added ‘no doubt’ for good measure. The woman could barely catch her breath as he maintained his position, still grinding against her, churning hard and slow, hoping she’d suddenly change her mind.

I bet her clit is swollen and her pussy’s raining… I want to touch it…

He felt her stiffen beneath him, and he paused, looked into her eyes… They danced with trepidation. At that, he abruptly ceased all movement.

“Alright, okay.” He carefully readjusted her scarf, then took her hand, and they began to walk forward, putting the sexually agonizing scene behind them. His dick strained and pulsed in his damn jeans, feeling betrayed, throbbing with need, wanting an explanation about this madness.

“You’ve got a little head, you know that? Felt like a crabapple in my hand.”

She burst out laughing and slapped him playfully on the shoulder.

“Shut up! You’re so rude!” She laughed a bit louder.

He chuckled, feeling free, feeling alive, loving the sweetness she’d left in his mouth…

Peppermint and chocolate…

Beautiful…

As they reached the front of the building, they slowly let go of one another, their fingertips lingering, touching, for a second or two, and then they waved goodbye to each other. The release of limb from limb was instinctual, and they did it on cue, as if rehearsed—a choreographed action. He opened the door for her; let her inside as silvery tinsels and Christmas decorations twirled from above the doorway and an instrumental version of ‘A Holly Jolly Christmas’ played. He smirked as he caught sight of a bushel of hanging mistletoe right above the doorway, the very spot at which they stood…

So, they began the trek to their rooms, walked their separate ways, without looking back and pretending none of it had happened…but it
had
. His proof was the woman’s lingering fragrance all over his clothing, becoming a part of him, feeding his obsession of her—and once he realized that she was gone, away from his body, his core and his spirit, he missed her so very much, as if she’d been missing for years, and not mere seconds.

He wasn’t sure when it started, or what the final straw had been; nor was he convinced that even mattered, but the truth of the situation lay at his doorstep, begging to be acknowledged and let in.

I don’t just like her. I’m in love her…

Chapter Nine

“B
ut this is
the time, Nick. You’ve been doing so well. Why stop now?” Frieda asked as she ran a small white cloth over the lens of her reading glasses. Back and forth she went, then counter clockwise once more.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now, that’s
why
.” He clicked his tongue against his inner jaw, drawing increasingly more unnerved. His hackles rose, and he felt much like a human pre-heated oven; yet, the only damn thing cooking however was his stress level, and the shit was soaring, right along with his temper. The woman kept pushing and pushing, feeding his frustrations to the point where he wanted to stand up like a lawyer in a damn courtroom and scream, ‘I object!’

“You’ve been quite irritable this week, Mr. Vitale, and that’s normal.” She kept her eye on her cleaning, slowing just a bit from her chore. “It is one of the many phases of recovery.”

“Right, I’m still in early recovery stage, but becoming upset and cantankerous all goes with the territory as well as at times experiencing feelings of joy, elation… I’ve already read the information over and over; you’ve told me many times. I got it!” he snapped, tired of the textbook lingo.

“Exactly. The first stage proved acknowledging that you had a problem. You weren’t certain of the extent, but you knew something wasn’t quite right and that the drinking lay at the center of it. Secondly, you had a willingness to change. That took many years for you to achieve, but you arrived, and that’s what counts. Third is the investigation stage – it’s you proactively finding out what your options are. You did that and you did it well and you informed others of your decision. Fourthly, detoxification. That was a rough phase for you. You were quite upset with our staff…you used profanity at an escalating rate.” She grinned wide.

“Yeah.” The last thing he wanted was to relive the entire sordid ordeal. “Sorry about that… I wasn’t myself at the time, wasn’t feeling well, and the realization of everything had set in. Much time has passed and I can tell you—you didn’t deserve the names I called you. I apologize.”

“I know, and I understand.” She paused, tilted her head slightly to the left and smiled. “But you’re doing well, Nick. You’re in early recovery now just as you stated. It’s a great time, but also a hard one. It’s when you wake up, physically and mentally, and you become a new person—the person you were always supposed to be. During this process, your moods will shift. It isn’t about whether your temperament
will
change on and off like a crazy dial going haywire; it’s
when
will it stop, settle down, then start up all over again. And this is one of those ‘when’ times.

“The final phase is advanced recovery, and you’re not there yet, but this is the time when you lay the foundation. Anyway, I knew after you attacked Oliver that we were entering this phase within a phase, so to speak. He infuriated you, rubbed you the wrong way, and you were already in an argumentative mood.” She set her cloth down and placed her glasses gently over her eyes.

The corners of his mouth drooped downward in displeasure as he sat further back in his seat. He crossed his leg, ankle resting on thigh, and clasped his hands over his lap.

“Yes, that guy aggravates me and it’s not just because I’m in this phase you are talking about. He is just a king-sized prick! He’s disrespectful to almost everyone here and purposefully keeps shit going. He’s
nothing
but a bunch of drama. We all
come
from drama; none of us need this mess! Why is this happening here?”

“Why is
what
happening here, Nick?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?!” His voice escalated and he frowned in frustration. “I feel like I’m in some strange dream, or sleep walking. Can’t you see what he’s doing? He projects so that he doesn’t have to address his own shit!”

She nodded in understanding, but offered no explanation as to why the bastard was still chillin’ like a villain amongst decent folk.

“I’m not drunk anymore,” he quipped. “Alcohol won’t drown him out. I was a lot more relaxed when I was intoxicated and high, or anticipated being drunk or high soon enough. I can’t tune him out, shut him down or drown him behind a bottle of booze. Now I’ve got nothin’ but my own laurels to rely on. I thank you again for allowing me to redeem myself, for the second chance, but the further I get in my recovery, the more he irks me. It’s the damnedest thing. I’m clear-headed and can feel and see
every
damn thing he’s doing and saying…and I can’t take it, Frieda…I just can’t.”

The woman kept that silly, plastered, plastic grin on her face and nodded, as if he were on some shrink’s couch confessing his darkest secrets.

“And you were right; I
don’t
feel safe with him in the group. He’s the type of man that would run to the news stations and tell everyone that I was in rehab and now back on the streets, in uniform, just to be spiteful, not because he cares. Can we take a vote?” He threw up his hands. “I’d like to do like that one show.” He punched her desk with his index finger. “Vote his ass off the island. He annoys
everyone
.”

“Yes, he does annoy many people, but what you all don’t understand is that we are working with Oliver. He has circumstances that you and the others are not privy to. Due to confidentiality issues, I can’t disclose them, but you didn’t physically assault him until a specific moment in time and that simply can’t be ignored, Nick. He’d said many things up until that point you may have found objectionable, but you turned the other cheek or at least stayed in your seat after a heated word or two. Do you know when that was?”

“When what was? When he said something objectionable? Every damn time he opens his mouth it’s something objectionable, yet, I’m the one with a warning under my belt! This is fucking nuts!”

“No.” She shook her head. “Do you recall what was going on in your mind the exact moment when you lost your cool with him? Do you understand why it was at that pivotal point that you erupted?”

He readjusted his seating position and forced himself to relax. The lady had the damn wheel and he knew where she was driving.

“You know, don’t you? Of course you do.” She grinned, and a touch of sarcasm kissed her tone. “You perceived him attacking another person…a young lady, to be exact.”

He said nothing, offered no details, juicy information, or true confessions. Surely she was itching for a nibble, for him to confirm the rumors, find the actuality buried behind the facade, the sweet truth of the matter.

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