Valentine (On Dublin Street 5.5)
Page 18“Liv,” Nate groaned, his hips slamming against me as he took me with more stamina and power than probably most men half his age. “Baby, fuck, baby.”
“Yes.” I jerked my hips back against his, undulating into his thrusts that had increased with so much enthusiasm the headboard was rattling against the hotel wall. “YES!” I cried out as my orgasm tore through me.
***
Three orgasms later I held onto Nate’s shoulders as I tried to steady my jelly-like legs long enough to get back into my shoes.
My long lunch was over.
It had been the best lunch break of my entire life.
As soon as my feet were in the shoes, Nate wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me up against him. “We should do this every week.”
“What? Hotel sex?”
He shook his head. “Lunch.”
“Well…” I grinned and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “We technically didn’t have lunch.”
“You know what I mean.” He rubbed his nose against mine and sighed. “We should take time to have lunch together once a week.”
Feeling all warm and mushy I nodded. “I’d love that.”
“Good.” He pulled away but just to reach for my coat. “I better get you back.”
He helped me into the coat and then pulled me against him again, my back to his chest. His lips brushed my ears and then he whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Liv.”
I smiled, curious at his sudden positivity toward the concept. “Valentine’s Day was yesterday.”
I grinned back. “Nate Sawyer, you charmer you.”
“It was a good line, wasn’t it?”
“It was a freaking awesome line.” I grabbed his hand and led him toward the door. “Why didn’t I think of it?”
“You can make it up to me tonight.”
“More sex?” I said incredulously as we walked out into the hallway. “Can our bodies take it?”
“We just need to refuel first.”
“Then sex it is.”
We walked hand in hand back to the elevator, brimming with satisfaction and contentment. I was practically humming to myself as we got into the elevator. Even the crappy elevator music couldn’t spoil my mood.
“So…” I said, “Would you rather have sex in a haunted bed or on a beach with the kind of sand that’s more like grain and pebbles and dirt than actual sand?”
“It depends… who is haunting the bed?” Nate turned to catch my eye.
Seeing the word ‘threesome’ gleam with mirth in his eyes I said, “Jimmy Stewart.”
He grimaced like a little boy. “Spoil sport.”
The elevator doors pinged open and the woman who’d been sharing it with us shot us both a horrified look before hurrying out of it ahead of us.
Nate and I turned slowly to look at each other and we drew stares from the other hotel patrons as we strolled arm and arm out of there, laughing the whole damn way.
The sound of two of my colleagues talking in the hallway met my ears as I packed up for the day and it made me smile.
I thought about what it was like for me when I first started teaching English to high schoolers. The long hours parents didn’t see. How I’d finally look up from my marking and planning to see the clock on my wall said seven o’ clock in the evening, how the school around me was eerily quiet because most of my colleagues had left ages ago.
That all changed when Marco came back into my life.
I had a husband and children who needed me to be home at a decent hour.
I wanted to be.
The kids had left at the last bell an hour ago and it was time for me to get in my car and drive home to my husband who was waiting for me to celebrate Valentine’s Day. We hadn’t planned much, other than to ask Joss and Braden to babysit this year (it was their turn, Marco’s and my turn next year), so that Marco and I could just have some quiet time with one another.
I smiled smugly. Or not so quiet time. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.
Laughing at myself, I wandered out into the hall.
Nish and Barbara, my friends and colleagues, were the chatterboxes out there. They turned to smile at me. “Off home so soon?” Nish said, grinning mischievously.
I shrugged. “It is Valentine’s Day.”
“As if we could forget,” Barbara said dryly, referring to the drama we’d had in school today.
“I still can’t believe Rochelle Muir ripped actual hair out of Stacy Abernathy’s head.” Nish winced.
“And over Michael Steel.” I shook my head in disgust. “I’ve caught that boy kissing too many girls to count.”
“Fourth years,” Nish and Barbara said in unison, making me laugh.
“I would if my husband looked like yours!” Barbara yelled at my back.
I grinned and shot over my shoulder. “There’s more to him than just good looks. He’s very adept with his hands.”
“I hate you!” She yelled back.
Laughing I sauntered out of the hallway.
Outside it was a crisp, fresh afternoon that was just starting to grow dull. Sun would set in about an hour. I glanced up at the sky and willed the spring on. I was sick of the short days of winter.
As I turned my head back toward my car, I caught a glimpse of something, or should I say someone, out of the corner of my eye. I looked back at the school gate and my breath stuttered in my throat.
Standing with hands in pocket, leaning against the gate was my husband Marco.
Wonder moved through me and I slowly made my way toward him, my heart quickening in my chest at the sight of him.
Will this feeling ever leave me? That feeling of anticipation and joy I felt every time I saw him.
God I hoped not.
Marco took a step toward me, and my gaze travelled up his tall body. He was wearing his good black boots, dark jeans, a stylish double-breasted wool jacket and a plaid scarf I’d bought him for Christmas. There were blues and greens in the scarf, colors that set off the blue green of his eyes. I was caught in those stunning eyes. They were the first thing, after his immense height and build, that you noticed about Marco. They were such a striking contrast to the beautiful caramel of his skin, and so darkly lashed I was almost envious of them.