Chapter 18

18

GINA

I waited until Porter had parked and gotten out of his truck before going to meet him. I wasn't sure if we should hug or kiss or shake hands. When we got within touching distance, we both hung back. Apparently, weeks' worth of denial had extended beyond the reach of the treatment center.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi." I blushed.

"Should we go inside?" He took me gently by the elbow, leading me toward the door.

In that innocent touch, a thousand angels sang, poems were written, and a flock of doves released into the night. I leaned toward him, careful to watch my feet as I crossed the threshold. This was everything I had hoped for and more. We didn't have to say anything, and yet we both knew where the night would end. I fought to keep my breath even as we waited for a table.

There was a new waitress on duty, one who clearly knew Porter. She nodded to him politely. He nodded back, accepting her invitation to occupy a booth in the corner. I slid down opposite him, my eyes locked on his face. I didn't even register the menu as the waitress slid it in front of me.

"Soup tonight is onion. Fish is flounder. Special is meatloaf. Do you know what you want to drink?" she said in a rapid-fire cadence.

"Just water," Porter answered.

I didn't understand the question, stunned as I was to be sitting across from him, so far from the hospital. He didn't look anything like the cautious addict who had spent his days playing video games and reading the Bible. He was in his element here, and I was the stranger.

"Do you want a soda?" Porter asked.

"Um, just water," I recovered, electing to order what he had chosen. The waitress left us alone, but I got the feeling she would as soon see us out the door as linger. "I want to apologize," I began.

"No need," he said. "I understand."

"It's just that if I gave you my phone number while we were still at the treatment center—" I tried again.

"Gina," he called me back to planet Earth. "I understand. You could've lost your job."

"But you seemed angry."

"A bit," he admitted. "I thought you didn't want to see me, but I realize now that's clearly not the case."

I laughed, blushing and looking down at my lap.

The waitress came back with two glasses of water. "Ready to order?" she asked.

"Give us a minute, please," Porter responded, smiling sweetly.

She nodded, some of her hard reserve cracking away. "Let me know when you're ready."

He looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to tell him why I'd come.

"I didn't like the way we left things. I didn't want you to think that you were just any other patient to me because you weren't. You aren't. So, here I am, back in my hometown after all this time."

"Does your dad know you're in town?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Not yet. I didn't want to make things any more awkward than they might already be."

He nodded and took a sip of his water. "So, you took the day off?" he prodded.

"I took vacation."

"Does anybody in Nashville know you're here?"

"Nope." I grinned, reaching for my water.

"Would anybody be mad if they found you here?" He narrowed his eyes conspiratorially.

"Yes." I gulped, licking my lips. "Possibly."

"Okay." He nodded, taking a drink from his own cup. "Because my sober brothers and sisters would read me the riot act if they knew what I was doing."

I held out my glass. "To clandestine meetings."

He toasted me, his eyes alight with a devilish flame. "Clandestine meetings." He signaled the waitress. "Are you ready to order?"

I grabbed the menu and flipped through it. I hadn't had a chance to look properly, but that didn't seem to matter. All of a sudden, we were both eager to have dinner done with and out of the way. I opted for an omelet, always keen on having breakfast at night. He ordered fried chicken with a side of coleslaw, and we made small talk until the meal came.

"How's Evil?" Porter asked.

"Good, I think." I smiled guiltily. "I had to leave her with the vet."

"This doesn't bode well for my position in her government," Porter teased.

"She'll get over it after a few chicken gravy treats," I said.

"So, is it weird for you to be back here?" Porter asked. "You mentioned you haven't been in a while."

I nodded. "It is a bit strange, yeah. It hasn't changed much, that's for sure."

Our food arrived, and we dug in, each famished but saving room for a dessert that wasn't on the menu. My omelet tasted good, like a home-cooked meal loaded with veggies and herbs. I was halfway through it before my stomach began to settle, and I was able to finish another quarter before I was full.

He started on his coleslaw, licking his thumb to capture some of the residual chicken grease. I wanted to lick his hands clean for him, to taste the salty sweetness of his meal and the underlying flavor of his skin. He caught me looking and grinned. All bets were off now. He knew what I wanted, and he wanted to give it to me. I felt my breath catch in my throat. Tonight, maybe minutes from now, I would experience what I had longed for all those sterile weeks we were forced to maintain our distance. Tonight, Porter would be mine.

There was an awkward pause as we both realized we were finished with our meals. It was time to move on to the main attraction. Porter twisted in his seat and flagged down the waitress. She left the check and gathered our plates, sparing only a tight smile.

I reached for my purse, but Porter shook his head. Instead, he peeled two bills off a fold and lay them on the table between us. "Where are you staying?" he asked, taking one last drink of water.

"At the hotel," I answered.

"I'd invite you back to my place, but it's one room with a communal bathroom I have to share with the entire floor."

"My place, then?"

"If you don't mind." He slid out of the booth, reaching a hand back to help me rise.

"I don't mind," I demurred. Quite the opposite—I was ready, willing, and able.

We had each driven to the diner, so we had to part, get into our individual vehicles, and drive to the rendezvous. We were so focused on getting into a room together, putting a door between us and the world, that we didn't even speak in the diner parking lot. There was no kiss, no hug, no parting words. We leapt into our respective drivers' seats and peeled away.

Porter made it back to the hotel first and was waiting outside his truck when I pulled up. I hopped out of the car, pressed the lock button on my key fob, and grabbed his hand. The touch was electric. There were so few times in our history when we had been able to make contact that even the pressure of palm against palm felt erotic. My insides churned in anticipation of the evening. If holding his hand felt this good, I imagined what the rest of the conquest would feel like. But I didn't have to imagine for long. It was happening; it was finally happening, and my heart soared up to the sky on wings of lust.

We broke through the lobby to the elevator, stepping inside and closing the doors. The moment we were alone, we were in each other's arms. He wrapped one arm around my shoulders, grabbing my thigh with the other and lifting it to his hip. I ran my fingers through his hair, yanking his shirt from his trousers with the other hand. Our lips locked, our tongues wild and frenzied. A month's worth of pent-up frustration exploded between us, and we were savages.

The elevator door opened, and we dropped the embrace, taking a step back from each other in case anyone was watching. The corridor was empty; we were alone. I dashed for the bedroom, plastic key card in my hand. It took me three swipes to make the red light turn green, each attempt generating more frustration, and eliciting a chuckle from behind me. When the lock finally gave and the door swung open, we rushed for the safety of the bedroom like two shipwrecked survivors.

I threw my purse in the corner and turned on him. He slammed the door shut, his eyes hungry in the dark. The curtains were drawn, and the lights were off, giving us very little to go on except an orange finger of sun in the slit between the drapes. Neither of us cared.

He finished what I had started in the elevator, tearing his shirt up over his head and casting it aside. I had only enough time to kick off my shoes before he was on me, pressing me to the wall, hand cradling the back of my head. He brought his mouth down on mine, his lips soft and his tongue hot. I welcomed him in, sucking, licking, reciprocating. It was a sensual kiss, not as insane as it had been in the elevator. Here, we had time. We had the entire night.

I threaded a hand between us to reach up and stroke his jaw. He gripped me at the waist, sliding both hands around behind me to cup my bottom. I wished then that I was wearing my clubbing skirt. How masterful it would be for him to have such easy access to my private assets. How smooth the fabric would feel between our bodies while it lasted.

But alas, I was wearing jeans. I hadn't been sure of myself enough to bring out the big guns and had opted for something more casual. The bulk of the denim between us was almost too much, and I reached for my own zipper.

He felt what I was doing and released me from our embrace. Standing back, he pulled down his own pants, throwing them away on the carpet. I slipped out of the confines of my own garments, revealing my true self in all my glory. We fumbled toward the bed, he in his underwear and me in mine. He pulled down the comforter in one massive swoop, leaving it in a crumpled heap on the floor.

He took me in his arms and laid me down on the mattress, the urgency in his movements draining away. Gazing down at me, he paused, as if considering his good fortune. He climbed on top of me, crushing me to the bed and stealing my breath. In a fluid motion, he pulled my hips against his and rolled to the center so that I was lying on top. He put his hands down my panties to cup my backside, spreading my legs so that his erection fit neatly into place.

I gasped. The bulge in his crotch felt so big, pressing against my intimate flesh. It sent shivers of pleasure dancing through my core as I rocked back and forth against it. He reached up with shaking fingers to unlatch my bra. My breasts fell free, catching the dying light as it turned from orange to purple behind the curtains.

He fit one hand over each breast, gently tracing their curves as I bounced. The sensations, both in my groin and in my chest, were so enchanting they stole my breath. I wound further and further out on a ledge, over a precipice of shimmering pleasure. He was my one-way ticket to freedom. I shuddered, reaching an orgasm before he had even penetrated me.

My delicate flower, slid so tightly against his cock, was swollen and throbbing in her release. I gasped for breath, collapsing against him. He kissed me soundly on one ear, rolling us so that he loomed over me. He dropped my panties down my legs, allowing them to fall on the night table. Shimmying out of his boxer shorts, he pulled his cock free. I watched, lazy from exertion, still feeling the pulse within my stomach that spread slowly like ripples in a pond. He reached two fingers between my outer folds, finding me soaked and ready for his passage.

I felt the intrusion like a shock wave, and an instant revival of the orgasm tore up my spine. He removed his fingers, painting my wetness across his shaft. He was thick and engorged, and in the dim light, I could see that he was hard as a rock. He inched forward, positioning himself between my legs. The tip of his member pressed down upon my entrance, prying me apart. There was joy as he took his rightful place, sliding deep within my cavern.

I sighed happily. This was it; this was the feeling I had been waiting for, the reward for maintaining my distance for so long. I reached around him to grab him by the buttocks, urging him deeper. His muscles tensed beneath my touch, driving him down, filling me up. He began to move, slowly at first, delicate little thrusts that made my thighs quiver. Building to a climax of his own, he drew out and down with a passion, in and out with a vigor that would make sailors blush.

Distantly, I heard the bed knocking against the wall. The phone shuddered in its cradle on the nightstand. He claimed me again and again, each time bringing me closer to that mystical place in my body. Just when I thought I couldn't get enough, he broke through my barrier, plunging me to the bottom of an ocean of glory. As I cried out his name, he pounded out the final thrusts that would seal his fate. His muscles tensed as shudders raced through his body, emptying his seed deep within me.

I choked on a laugh, or was it a sob, reaching my hands up to circle his shoulders. He wilted, his arms bowing out to the side as his chest fell forward onto mine. I wrapped my legs and my arms around him, feeling his sweat cool my skin. I savored that delicious feeling of being full, being connected to another human being, before he rolled to one side and slid free. We lay apart for one stunned moment, before he threaded a hand beneath my back and drew me closer.

I put my head down against his chest, draping an arm across his waist. I could hear his heartbeat slowing inside him, returning to normal after so much hard labor. After a long moment looking at nothing, feeling returning to my limbs, I glanced up at him.

"What's next?" I asked.