Mirage - Alice Tribue Page 0,18
out to dinner tonight and that I should be ready by seven. I’ve just finished my make-up when my cell phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Hey, babe.”
“Hey, what’s up? Are you on your way?”
“No, I’m not. I’m sorry. I had someone call out sick, and I have to work an event across town tonight.”
“Oh.” I try to hide my disappointment. “Okay, it’s no problem.”
“I’m sorry. I was really looking forward to seeing you tonight.”
“It’s really okay, Nathan. We can do it another night.”
“All right, Tori. I’ll call you later.”
“It’s Victoria,” I mutter after he’s already disconnected the call. I’m left with a lingering thought of the abruptness of his call. Do I believe that he has to work? Or is he with someone else? I mentally chastise myself for going down that road of uncertainty and distrust. I’m not that type of woman. I will not act meek or weak for that matter, especially not for a man.
I throw on a pair of comfy sweatpants and a camisole, order takeout, and then settle in to make it a Friday movie night. I think I make it about halfway through the first movie before my eyelids begin to droop and I eventually fall asleep on the couch. It isn’t until I hear a knock on the front door and glance at the clock to find that it’s past two in the morning that I realize I’ve been asleep out here for hours.
A quick peek out of the peephole tells me that it’s Nathan on the other side of the door.
“Nathan?” I question as I open the door for him. He looks tired. I can see it in his eyes, but it doesn’t diminish his appeal. He’s still every bit the confident, sexy man that I can’t seem to say no to. “What are you doing here so late?”
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he walks into my apartment, shuts the door, and pounces, grabbing me by the waist, pulling me to him, and kissing me fiercely. I brace my hands on his shoulder needing to hold onto him in order to stay upright because I’m both completely turned on and completely exhausted. Suddenly, it doesn’t matter how exhausted I am because I’m up in his arms with my legs wrapped tightly around his waist, and he’s on the move. I have no idea how we make it into my bedroom unscathed or how he manages to get us in here without ever breaking the kiss. Even when my back hits the bed, he’s on top of me using his hands to pin me to the mattress.
“I wanted to see you,” he says, eyes blazing and hungry. His lips are on me again, kissing my lips, chin, and neck. He releases his hold on my hands, leaving one of his on the bed and using his free hand to roam, feeling his way up and down my body and stopping on my chest. He pulls the camisole down to expose my pebbled breasts. I swear I hear him growl as he takes them in. My head is clouded over; I can’t think, and it only gets worse when he flicks at my nipple with the tip of his tongue. My back arches off the bed and my hands—the traitors—grab hold of his hair and refuse to let go. He takes this as an invitation to continue, an invitation to be bolder, one that he has no problem accepting. He takes his time sucking on my nipple while using his hand to play with the other. A whimper escapes from my mouth; he shuts me up by coming in for another kiss, drowning out all sounds. He’s good at the art of seduction. I’ve known that from the very first night that we met, but this… this is beyond good and I’m all in. I have no idea how we got to this moment so quickly, but I couldn’t say no or stop him if I tried.
His hands continue their descent down my body, his eyes locked on mine. “Do you want me stop?”
There’s no decision here as far as I’m concerned. I can’t stop it because it’s already too late. “No,” I respond barely above a whisper.
I close my eyes as he kisses me again, his hand reaching the barrier of my clothing. He slides his hand under my pants, under my underwear, until he’s cupping me. Then he slowly begins to stroke me gently.
“Nathan,” I whimper his name.
His fingers dip inside, deftly parting the sensitive folds of