That surprises me. With all the information he's known about me, I'm shocked that he didn't uncover the truth about my mom and my dad.
"Do you want to talk about what happened to them?"
It's the question I always dread. It's not easy to answer. My mom died from cancer. Her inattention to her own health was her death sentence. She felt ill one morning and by the time the doctor at the free clinic by our apartment in Boston was done his examination the news was grim and she was on her way to the hospital in an ambulance.
A week later the news was worse. They gave her three months to live but her will was lost in the hospital room when a doctor she'd never met before told her that the cancer that had started in her lungs had overtaken her body.
That was when my dad came from New York City. They talked and cried, and then hours later she died. Life changed then and again on a cold winter evening when my dad, weakened from his addiction to anything that could numb the pain, died in a park in Manhattan, while I waited for him on a bench less than a mile away. He never came and my life was never the same.
"We don't have to talk about it tonight, Ellie." Nolan's voice breaks through my thoughts. "I'll order us a burger, two fries and a bottle of water. You can have the butter cookies this time."
I swallow. I want him to know about my parents but the words aren't there. "We'll split the cookies."
"Not tonight," he says under his breath. "You just saved my life. I owe you, Ellie. The cookies are just the start of my repaying you for that."
***
"We're even." I crawl across my bed, looking back at where he's sitting. "You can stop, Nolan. Please stop. We're even."
He wipes his lips against his shoulder as he reaches out to grab me. "We are not even close to being even. Sit on my face, Ellie."
"Oh my God." I try to pull my leg free of his hand. "I came twice already. You don't need to do it again."
"I do." He grazes his fingers over my calf. "I love it, Ellie. I fucking love the taste of you and those sounds you make. If you'd let me, I'd record the audio of you coming on my phone so I can listen to it when I jack off in the shower."
"No." I laugh as I shake my head. "No recordings. I don't want those surfacing after we break up. I'll never live it down."
"Stop," he hisses as he moves up me. He grabs my waist flipping me over until I'm beneath him. "Don't talk about this being over. You don't fucking know how I feel, Ellie."
I chuckle. "I know exactly how you feel. Your cock is hard. It's going to crush my thigh."
"I'm falling, Ellie." He rests his forehead against my cheek. "I'm falling so hard."
My chest tightens. It's the sex that's driving his words. We kissed on the street after we ate the burgers and he fed me the cookie. When I asked him to my place, he flagged down a taxi and held tight to my hand until we closed my bedroom door and stripped.
"Don't." I push against his chest. "Don't say it unless it's real."
He moves so his hands are bracketing my face as he stares down at me. "It's real. What I feel is so fucking real that it scares me but I crave it. I need it. I need you, Ellie."
I need him too. It's not just the sex and the fun. It's more. When I'm around him I feel my heart binding to his in a way it never did with Tad or any man I've ever dated. This is more. This is real and I'm terrified that if it ends, I'll never get over him.
"I want you to make love to me," I whisper into the still air between us. "I've never had that. I want you to show me what it's like."
He bites his bottom lip as his throat works on a deep swallow. "I've never had that either. I never wanted it until now."
I watch in silence as he rips open the condom package he brought with him. He sheathes himself before he leans down to kiss me tenderly. "Let me fall for you, Ellie. Let me show you what you mean to me."
Chapter 42
Nolan
"I think I fell in love last night."
Eda stops in place right in front of my desk, the cup of coffee in her hand shaking. "You what, sir?"
"Sit." I point at the chairs in front of my desk. "Have a sip of that coffee. You look like you could use it."
She lowers herself into one of the chairs. "This is your coffee. I bring you coffee every morning."
"Why?" I rest my elbows on my desk. "It's not part of your job description."
"I bring you coffee because you send me flowers every second Friday." She takes a sip of the steaming liquid. "You think I don't know it's you, but I do."
"Before Harold died he asked me to arrange a flower delivery for you every second Friday of the month for a year. It was important to him, so I continued the tradition."