Learning to Fall (18 page)

* * * * *

Daniel took me to his apartment.

Situated above a dry cleaner’s on the west side of town, it was a cramped, albeit cozy, studio with random width hardwood floors and warm brick walls.

“It’s not much,” he said as he unlocked the door and gestured for me to go in ahead of him. “But it’s home.”

“I think it’s lovely,” I said as I stepped inside and looked around. “It’s very you.”

And it was. Framed posters of old movies intermingled with Adam Sandler classics hung on the wall. The kitchen, complete with a stainless steel fridge and oven, was separated from the rest of the studio by a long counter. On the other side was a comfortable looking brown leather sofa and two chairs. Past those…past those was Daniel’s bed.

My throat tightened and I quickly looked away, for some reason feeling like I was prying even though he’d invited me into his apartment knowing I would be able to see everything he owned in one passing glance. As if my eyes had a mind of their own they flitted back to the bed. It was slightly smaller than mine; a full instead of a queen if I had to guess. A navy blue comforter covered the sheets. Two white pillows marked the head of the bed and a fleece blanket was folded up at the foot. 

I wondered if the sheets smelled like him.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

Daniel’s voice cut through the fog in my brain. Startling slightly I looked away from the bed to find he’d moved to the kitchen and was watching me, his brooding gaze unreadable in the dim lighting.

“Just water, please.”

“If you want, I have wine.”

“I already had two glasses,” I said with a rueful shake of my head.

A smile flitted across Daniel’s mouth before he took two glasses out of a cupboard and filled them with water from the fridge. “Water it is, then.”

I followed him as he took the glasses into what served as his living room and, after only a moment’s hesitation, sat beside him on the sofa. Our knees touched. Sucking in a breath, I clamped my thighs together, intensely aware that this was the first time we’d ever been completely alone together.

“I’m sorry again I was late.” Taking a drink of water, Daniel put his cup down on a plain wooden coffee table and turned towards me, stretching his right arm across the back of the sofa. The dark red button up shirt he wore pulled tight across his chest, outlining his rigidly defined muscles.

Not that I was looking.

“I had to work at the bar. I tried to get off early, but a group of peepers came in.”

“Peepers?” I echoed, brow furrowing. What kind of bar had Daniel been at? Seeing my reaction, he chuckled quietly under his breath and gave a slight shake of his head.

“Not those type of peepers. Leaf Peepers,” he explained. “You know, the older people who drive up through New England in the fall to see the leaves change.”

“Of course.” Now I remembered. Maine’s second tourist season, comprised mostly of retirees, ran from the beginning of September to the end of October. It wasn’t as big as the summer season, but it brought in enough people to warrant most of the businesses in the heart of Camden staying open a little longer and a little later including, apparently, Swordfish.

“I stopped by my mother’s on the way to your house.” Daniel kept his tone deliberately casual, but I could tell how tense he was by the whiteness in his knuckles as he picked up his glass and took another sip. “She doesn’t like to cook, so I usually bring her some food after work.”

“Is she…is your mother okay?” It was the first time Daniel had mentioned her. The first time either one of us had brought up our parents. “Did something happen?”

“She’s fine.” Setting his glass back down he rested his forearms on his thighs and leaned forward, staring blindly down at the coffee table. “Or as fine as she can be. My mom…she didn’t take Derek’s death very well.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

“My father walked out on us when I was five.” He turned his head and met my gaze, his grey eyes feverishly hot in their intensity. “I don’t know if I ever told you that.”

“No,” I whispered as something inside of me tightened. “You didn’t.”

“Well he did. After that, it was just the three of us. Derek, my mom, and I. I don’t know if she was different before my father left. I can’t remember. But after… She was never a good mother,” he said harshly. His jaw clenched and unclenched, as though it was physically painful to say the words. “She never hit us. She never even really yelled. But she wasn’t…she wasn’t the mother we needed.” He hissed out a breath and raked a hand through his hair. “It’s hard to explain.”

Moved by pure emotion and a surge of overwhelming empathy, I closed the distance between us and took his hand in mine, interlocking our fingers until our palms were clasped together. My skin felt hot and flushed. His was ice cold.

“I understand,” I said softly. And I did. Not many people would have, but they were the people from happy families. People whose mother’s and father’s loved them unconditionally. Who loved them without restrictions or barriers or limitations. They may have yelled, but they did it because they cared…and in a household filled with self-restraint, sound was always better than silence. “My parents were the same way. They were never mean to me. They never mistreated me. But…”

“But they never loved you like you needed to be loved,” Daniel finished for me when my throat closed up, keeping the words I’d never said out loud locked deep down inside a place I didn’t like to look.

“Yes.” I took a deep breath. “Exactly.”

“She blames me for Derek’s suicide. My mom,” he clarified when I looked at him searchingly. “She thinks if I hadn’t gone away for college, he never would have done it.”

And I’d thought my relationship with
my
mother was troubled. “You know that’s not true.”

“I know,” he said with a short, clipped nod. “And I know it’s pointless to blame myself, but sometimes - like tonight - I can’t help but think Derek might still be here if I hadn’t left him.”

After disappointing my mother, I thought I knew what guilt felt like. But it was nothing compared to the guilt I saw in Daniel’s eyes. So I didn’t think. I didn’t plan. I didn’t weigh the pros and the cons. I just acted.

I saw a flash of surprise pass over Daniel’s face as I grabbed his neck and pressed my mouth to his before I closed my eyes. For an instant he remained frozen, his body completely stiff, before he sank his hands into my coiffure and kissed me back with a hungry passion that quite literally took my breath away.

Hairpins flew as we rolled across the couch. For a second I was on top, my thighs straddling his waist, before he flipped me beneath him and settled the long, hard length of his body against mine. Lust shot through me like a tidal wave, beginning in my loins and sweeping up over my navel and breasts, leaving my nipples hard and aching for Daniel’s touch.

Our kisses before had always been slow, silky, and smooth. We’d taken our time, enjoying each other with careful little sips instead of great thirsty gulps.

This was the opposite of that.

Daniel’s tongue skimmed my mouth before it plunged between my teeth. With a tiny whimper I met him thrust for thrust, writhing beneath him as I began to burn hotter and hotter, already half drunk from the taste of him on my lips and the feel of him beneath my hands. My nails sank into his back, anchoring myself to muscle and sinew as he tore himself away from my mouth and began to press tiny, suckling kisses across my jaw, down my neck, and along the delicate ridge of my exposed collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

Yes
, I thought as my head thrashed mindlessly from side to side.
This is what I’ve wanted. This is what I’ve needed.

Why had I denied myself this mindless pleasure? Why had I been holding myself back? I couldn’t remember, and in the heat of the moment it didn’t matter. Nothing did. Nothing except for Daniel. And even before he lifted his head to ask my permission to go further, to go faster, I knew what my answer would be.

When I’d had sex with Justin, I had always felt stiff. My movements clumsy and ponderous. At times there had been brief spurts of flame, but they’d always been quickly extinguished by my own self-consciousness. I hadn’t hated sex, but I hadn’t particularly liked it very much. Now, however…now I couldn’t get enough. I couldn’t feel enough. I couldn’t
want
enough.

Daniel scooped me effortlessly into his arms and carried me over to his bed. He dropped me on the mattress and I giggled as I bounced before he claimed my mouth with his own. Hands braced on either side of my shoulders, he slowly eased me back onto one of the pillows. Pulled completely free of its coiffure, my hair fanned out around me in a dark, tangled cloud. Lifting a long tendril, he let it coil around his finger.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his eyes hot and hungry on mine. “Because we don’t have to.”

“I know.” The huskiness in my voice took me by surprise. I cleared my throat. “I…I want to.”

Leaning away from me, he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off before he turned his attentions to my corset. “Your turn, little fox.” After a few minutes of pulling, however, he sat back on his heels with a perplexed shake of his head. “I don’t understand. Are you superglued into this thing?”  

I laughed again before I rolled onto my stomach. “You have to untie the back,” I instructed, a smile toying with the corners of my mouth as I crossed my arms under my chin and patiently waited while he unraveled Whitney’s knots.

I always imagined if Daniel and I ever took the next step and became intimate I would be nervous and tense, but instead I felt completely relaxed and light as a feather. I suspected the wine I’d drank at the Halloween party had a little bit to do with it, but not everything. The truth was the
decision
to make love with Daniel had been more nerve wracking than anything else. Now that I’d let go of my inhibitions and given into my feelings instead of my fears, the
act
of making love was nothing short of extraordinary.

Following the grooves of my shoulderblades, Daniel’s hands glided down my back as he finished untying the final knot. When he kissed my spine I shivered and rolled over, arms automatically crossing over my naked breasts. His expression solemn, Daniel rose up off the bed to take off his jeans. While I watched, utterly captivated by the flawless lines of his body, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his black boxer briefs and slowly peeled them down his strong, muscular thighs.

There were too many shadows for me to see
everything
Daniel had to offer, but what I could make out in the dim glow of the recessed lighting was enough to cause my eyes to widen and my breath to catch in the back of my throat.

Given the feverish way he’d kissed me on the couch I expected him to immediately unbuckle my skirt. Instead he stretched out beside me, his hips pressing intimately against mine as he gently pulled me towards him, positioning himself until he had one arm underneath my head and the other on the curve of my bottom.

“I don’t want to rush this,” he said quietly, his gaze so intent on mine I wondered if he wasn’t simply plucking my thoughts right out of my head. “I want to enjoy you, Imogen. Every.” He kissed my lips. “Delectable.” He kissed my neck. “Inch.” When his mouth settled on my breast and his tongue swirled around my nipple I gasped out loud and arched my back, fingers burrowing in his hair. I tugged hard, gasped an apology, then tugged again as he nudged me onto my back and began to lick a path straight towards the hottest part of my body.

“Daniel, I don’t know-” 

“Every inch,” he murmured against my burning flesh. “I want to taste every inch.”

I’d never been kissed down
there
before and I couldn’t help but squirm as Daniel took off my buckle and slid my skirt down my legs, leaving me in nothing but a scrap of lacy red panties I was thanking God I’d had the foresight to put on.

With a low growl, Daniel grabbed the edge of the lace and pulled my panties off
with his teeth
.

Then he lowered his mouth…and I lost all sense of time and reason.

By the time Daniel finished, I could barely lift my head off the pillow. My arms and legs felt heavy. My vision felt blurred. With a low, husky laugh he worked his way back up my body. I watched, eyelids half closed, as he opened the top drawer on his nightstand and took out a condom. For a moment there was only the sound of our harsh, heavy breaths and the crinkling of plastic as he tore the wrapper open and expertly fitted the condom over the long, hard length of his cock.

Already slick with need, I braced my hands on his shoulders as he slid steadily inside of me.

With a groan, he threw his head back, muscles rippling and clenching beneath my fingertips as he moaned, “Holy fuck.”

Usually I wasn’t a proponent of cursing, but in this case I supported it wholeheartedly.

Holy fuck was right.

He began to glide in and out. As we adjusted to each other’s rhythms there were a few seconds of fumbling, but by the fourth smooth pump of his hips we’d established a steady ebb and flow that began to quicken as our heartbeats accelerated and our pulses began to race. He slipped his hand between us, and with half a dozen expert strokes of his finger had me pinching my eyes shut and gasping his name as I came with him buried deep inside of me. He followed almost immediately after, his entire body trembling as his back bowed and he spilled his seed.