Finally Finding Faith

  Faith’s hand lies flat on my chest and she tentatively lifts her fingers and trails them from one side of my chest to the other. Her touch shoots straight to my dick and if I wasn’t hard before, I’m like steel now. I bite back a moan.

  “Daniel,” she whispers.

  “Faith,” I whisper back.

  “Are you awake?” she asks. She doesn’t lift her head and she’s still whispering.

  “No.” I don’t want to wake up. I want to stay in this dream world where I can keep this girl in my arms.

  Her leg shifts and it brushes my dick. “You are awake,” she says quietly. She buries her face in my chest and I can feel her smile against my chest.

  I jostle her in my arms. “Shh,” I say. “Let me pretend I’m asleep so I can hold you a little longer.”

  She stills. Then her leg hitches a little higher and she presses into me, softening against me. “I’m going back to sleep,” she says.

  “That’s probably best,” I say.

  Her body is soft and lax against me. I rub her thigh with my fingertips and she purrs against my chest. I start at the back of her knee and rub all the way up to where my hand slides beneath the boxers to feel the elastic of her panties. I roll to face her, and she breathes against my chest. Her leg is over my hip, and I can feel the moist warmth between her thighs close to my dick. It pulses, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

  “Do you want me to roll in the other direction?” she asks.

  Yeah, because having my dick pressed along the crack of her ass would be so much better. “No,” I breathe. “Go back to sleep.”

  “I can’t while you’re rubbing me.” She giggles against my chest and I pull her in and wrap my arms around her. She scrubs her face into my chest. “What time is it?” she asks.

  I glance over at the clock. “Thirteen hundred,” I say.

  “Oh, it’s still early.” She yawns.

  “Go back to sleep,” I say, nudging her.

  “Are you going back to sleep?” she asks.

  “I will if you will,” I say. Let me hold you for a little longer. Please.

  She nods, her nose brushing up and down my chest. “Okay,” she breathes. She tilts her face toward mine. “Did you call to see if we can get tickets for tonight?” she asks.

  Oh, shit. “I didn’t.” I move to sit up but her arm wraps around my waist.

  “Don’t move yet,” she says. “I like this.”

  I do too. I hug her to me and roll so that she has to go with me. She squeals and the sound makes me laugh. I hook the phone cord with my index finger and pull it toward me. Without letting her go, I call the concierge to ask about tickets. He connects me to the ticket agent.

  “I’m so sorry,” the man says. “We don’t have any tickets for tonight’s shows. They’re all sold out.”

  My heart falls. “None?” I ask.

  “I have some for the three o’clock show,” he says. “But nothing later.”

  I mouth over the phone at her. “How quickly can you be ready?”

  She grins and scurries to stand up. She’s fucking gorgeous with her hair all messy-tumbled and a crease on her face from where she was laying on my shirt. “Really quickly,” she says. She dances in place and holds her breath as she waits for an answer.

  “We’ll take two for the three o’clock,” I say. She squeals and dances in a circle. That’s when I notice her feet. What the fuck is she wearing? She has on knee socks that don’t come close to matching. I grin. I can’t help it. She’s just too fucking adorable. And she’s hot in my boxers. I admit it.

  “I call first dibs on the bathroom!” she says. She grabs her purse and spins to run to get ready. I finish buying the tickets and push the covers back. I can hear the shower running and I get dressed in nice slacks and a button-down shirt. Then I make a call to the concierge because I want to do something nice for her that will surprise her and make her smile.

  I’m tying my tie when I hear the bathroom door open. “Can I use your hairbrush?” she asks through the tiny crack in the door.

  “You can use anything I have,” I say. She opens the door enough to smile at me. Her hair is wrapped in a towel and her face is free of makeup. I have to say, she’s just as hot like this as she was a minute ago.

  The door clicks closed behind her. I can hear the hair dryer and I imagine her getting primped. I smile. It’s a foreign feeling and my cheeks are aching from it. But it feels good. It feels really good. I rub my hand across my scruffy cheeks. I’m not going to have time to shave. I don’t think she’ll care.

  The door opens and she steps out. She walks out slowly, like she’s unaware that she’s rocking my fucking world. She was beautiful before, but good God – now she takes my breath. She’s wearing a slinky dress that drapes her curves. It dips low between her breasts with a loop of fabric. It has a slim belt that skirts her hips, right where my hands want to be. I clench my fists and force myself to stay put.

  Her dress falls just past her knees and her legs are bare and they go on forever and a fucking day. “Oh, my god,” I breathe. I sound like a teenage girl.

  “Do I look all right?” she asks.

  I hold my finger up and make a spin with it, because I want to see all of her. She slowly spins, looking at me from over her shoulder, biting her lower lip. Her back is bare too, and her dress drapes open to just above her bottom. “Yeah,” I say. I gulp. “You look all right.”

  I can’t put two words together right now.

  She turns her back to me. “Tell me the truth,” she says. “Can you tell I’m not wearing panties?”

  Fuck me.

  Faith

  I feel stupid, until his jaw falls open and he can’t utter a sound. Then I feel beautiful. And powerful. And utterly wanted.

  “Well,” he starts. He stops to gulp. “I didn’t know until you told me. But now it’s all I’ll be able to fucking think about.” His gaze doesn’t leave my ass as he licks his lips. I turn back around to face him and point to his mouth.

  “You have a little drool right there,” I say.

  He reaches up and swipes a hand below his mouth. “I do not,” he says, looking at the back of his hand. “I might in a second, though.” He does that spinny thing with his hand again. “Spin around one more time?” he coaxes, but he’s grinning and there’s devilry in his eyes.

  I turn very, very slowly and he lets out a groan.

  “Seriously,” I say. “Do I look all right for the theater?”

  “Well, I was kind of hoping you were going to wear the mismatched socks.”

  Heat creeps up my face. “They wouldn’t match my shoes,” I say. I sit down on the edge of the bed and put my shoes on, buckling the thin straps around my ankles. They make me about three inches taller, which means I will now come up to his nose.

  “So…” he says. Then he stops and shakes his head.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” he says. But he’s grinning.

  I tilt my head at him. He’s happy. “Don’t say nothing. Ask me.”

  “So,” he says again. Then he grins widely, even wider than before. “Why aren’t you wearing panties, again?”

  I am thoroughly enjoying this. I turn around and show him my rear end. “The dress is so sheer that I get a panty line with them on.” I shrug. “And the bra is obvious.”

  He swallows hard and his dark eyes get even darker. “You’re not wearing a bra either,” he says. It’s not a question. His eyes linger around my chest.

  I point over my shoulder. “Backless dress, remember?” I ask. “Are you all right?” I ask.

  He sits down on the couch and stuffs a pillow into his lap, and then scrubs a hand down his face. He lays his head back and growls.

  “Oh,” I say. I finally get it. “Oh,” I say a little louder, because a light bulb just went off in my head. “You’re ah… having some… um… lust issues.”

  His head jerks up and he looks me in the eye. “I’m having some there’s a beautiful woman with
a naked snatch right in front of me issues.”

  I have to turn away from that one, because my face is probably completely red. “Wow,” I breathe.

  He’s behind me in less than two seconds. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to be crude. But you got me so turned on that I don’t know what to do with myself.” His voice grows quiet. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything, Faith, and I’m a little bit terrified.”

  “You feeling things now?” I ask. I can’t bite back my grin.

  He steps closer and I feel the hard press of his manhood against my bottom. “Yep,” he says. His hands trace my rear end where my underwear line would be.

  I draw in a breath, because I’m about to pass out. “God,” I breathe.

  “Nope,” he says. “Just Daniel.” He pushes my hair to the side and his lips touch the nape of my neck. I have to reach for the back of the chair beside me to stay on my feet.

  “Hey, Daniel,” I say quietly. He turns me to face him, and I can feel every inch of him against my belly.

  “What?” he breathes back.

  “Next time you’re alone with a woman in a romantic situation, don’t call her girly bits a naked snatch, okay?” I snort out a laugh. I can’t help it.

  He steps back and swipes a hand down his face. “Why can’t I call it what it is?” he asks, but he’s teasing me. He’s grinning so widely that I can see every tooth in his head. Damn, but he has a pretty smile. He takes my breath away.

  “Because it’s not very romantic.” I pat the side of his face playfully, and he turns his head and blows a raspberry into my palm, holding my hand to his mouth much longer than he should.

  He chuckles as he says, “I really wasn’t going for romance at the time.”

  I laugh. “I could tell.”

  “I just wanted you to know how I was feeling.” He’s still laughing.

  I want to see him laugh like this every day for the rest of our lives. Oh, shit. Where did that come from? I step back from him, because I just scared myself. A day is one thing. A lifetime is another.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks. He cups my face in his hands.

  “Nothing,” I say, shaking free of his hold with a gentle twist.

  “Something is wrong,” he says. He glares at me.

  “We’re going to be late if we don’t get moving,” I warn. “Are you ready?”

  He nods, but his brow is furrowed.

  He follows me to the door and into the hallway, closing the door behind us. I have my purse over my shoulder and he tangles his fingers up with mine. He tugs them gently until I look at him. “I’m sorry I was crude,” he says. He looks into my eyes and I feel like I could fall into him and stay there forever. But I can’t.

  I hold up my thumb and forefinger and show him the tiny space between them. “I have a teeny tiny confession,” I say.

  His brow arches. “Do tell.”

  I don’t look at him as I say, “I kind of liked it.”

  “Liked what?” he says, a question in his gaze. Then he says, “Oh.” He jerks a thumb toward the room. “Crude does it for you, huh?” he says. He’s grinning again, and he’s so handsome when he’s happy. He was born pretty, but when he’s happy, he glows. He chucks my shoulder with his. “Gets your panties wet.” He covers his mouth. “Oops,” he says. “You’re not wearing any.”

  “Shh!” I hiss as people get into the elevator with us. He pulls me to stand in front of him with his hand on my waist, while the other dips down and squeezes my butt cheek. My heart flips in my chest. I bat at his hand behind me and catch it, drawing it around to press it against my belly. But then his thumb slides across the underside of my breast. I hiss in a breath. “Stop it,” I mouth, glaring at him in the mirror. He sticks his face in my neck and chuckles against my skin.

  I don’t know where this intimacy came from, but it feels so right. And so wrong at the same time, because I know he’s not at a place in his life where he can accept more from me. And I can’t ask him to give me anything because he has nothing left in the hole that is his heart. He has to fill it up for himself before he can give any to me. I know that, and it makes me sad. But he laughs again into my neck and I forget my trepidation. I have the rest of the night to enjoy.

  We step out into the street and I immediately wish I had a coat that looks nice. But all I had was my old college sweater and jeans and they are now stuffed into my purse. I shiver lightly. He immediately shrugs out of his suit coat and places it around my shoulders. “Can’t have you freezing,” he says.

  “What about you?” I ask, tugging his coat closer. “You’re going to get cold.”

  He laughs. “I could use a little cooling off.” He waggles his brows at me. His fingers tangle with mine again and he points. There’s a carriage waiting in the street. One drawn by a horse. “Your chariot awaits,” he says.

  I look at him. “Did you call for this?” I ask.

  He nods. “When you were in the shower.”

  I smile at him and look into his eyes. “This was on your list.”

  “And yours, too,” he says. He leans down and kisses my nose.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “How did you know that?”

  “Doesn’t every girl want to ride in a horse-drawn carriage?” he says, but he’s still grinning. He helps me, and as I step onto the platform, he whistles softly when the wind blows my skirt around my knees.

  “Oh, would you stop?” I say. But I secretly hope he doesn’t.

  Daniel

  I have no idea what happened during the show. I spent too much time watching Faith. She was entranced. Her breath caught when she was scared, and she laid a hand on her chest when she was moved, and she squeezed my thigh when she wanted to make sure I saw what she saw. But all I see is her. Her eyes fill with tears and I pull out my handkerchief, because men always carry handkerchiefs just for this reason, and hand it to her. She dabs at her eyes and shoots me a glance.

  “I see you,” I say quietly to her.

  “Well, I hope so,” she whispers back.

  I look into her eyes. “No, Faith. I mean I really see you. I see you. All of you.”

  She looks away from me, and toward the stage. But she squeezes my hand and dabs at her eyes again.

  She doesn’t speak again until the end of the performance, and she gets up and claps along with everyone else. She turns to me. “Just in case I forget to tell you later, I had a really good time today.”

  A grin tugs at my lips. I follow her from the theater with my hand at her back.

  “Are you ready to go to Rocko’s?” she asks.

  I am absolutely starving. The only thing either of us has had to eat was a snack I bought at intermission. She’s been with me all day. She has to be as hungry as I am. “It’s close, right?” I remember going there with my mom, but it has been a number of years.

  “We can walk,” she says with a nod.

  “Maybe there will be a nice, stiff wind,” I tease. Her face colors again. I will never get tired of that.

  “Dream on, soldier,” she teases.

  We take a seat at Rocko’s and I go for the one-pound burger. Rocko has a wall of fame, and if you can eat the humongous burger, you get your picture added to the wall and your burger is free. I have never been able to do it, but I’m hungrier today than I have ever been before when I tried this. Not to mention older. She gets an order of fries. “No burger?” I ask.

  She shakes her head and grins. “This isn’t my first rodeo,” she says. She drinks a cherry cola and she looks so damn happy. Today really was the perfect day.

  “What’s your story, Faith?” I ask. I have wanted to know all day. No man in his right mind would let her go if he ever spent one moment with her. “You made me spill my guts. Now it’s your turn.”

  She shakes her head and bites her lips together. “You don’t want to hear my story,” she says sadly, and her face clouds.

  I take her hand in mine. “I do,” I say. “Why hasn’t a man snatched you u
p?” I ask.

  “There goes that snatch word again,” she says.

  I chuckle out loud, hanging my head back. My chest rumbles. I have laughed more today than I have in years. I whisper playfully, “At least I didn’t say naked snatch.”

  She crosses her legs beneath the table and that makes me laugh even more. “Wet, naked snatch,” she says quietly, and the heat of her words shoots straight to my dick. She laughs.

  I know what she’s doing though. She’s trying to brush off my question. I am the master at evasion, so I know. “Tell me your story, Faith. Why aren’t you in a relationship?”

  She nods. It’s a quick jerk, almost like she’s steeling herself. “I was.”

  “Married?” I ask.

  She nods and she leans back. She’s purposefully putting distance between us. I’m okay with that for now. “Yes, for two years.”

  “What happened?” I ask. “He has to be an idiot if he let you go.”

  She smiles, but it’s sad. It’s more for me than her. “He died.” She coughs into her fist like she needs to clear her throat. She blinks furiously and waves a hand in her face. “I swore I wouldn’t do this today,” she says, chuckling, but it’s a watery sound.

  “How did he die?”

  She clears her throat again. “Drunk driver. Two years ago today.”

  “Oh, shit,” I say. I get up and slide into her side of the booth so I can sit beside her. She pushes me back, though.

  “I’m fine,” she says. “I’m not going to cry. Not for long.” She laughs again.

  I take her face in my hands and look into her green eyes. “It’s okay to cry.”

  She heaves a sigh. “It’s been such a wonderful day,” she says. “Thank you so much for taking my mind off of it.” She smiles, and this time it’s real. “I really appreciate it.”

  “I wish you’d told me sooner,” I say. “I would have worked harder.”

  She giggles. “Today was wonderful,” she breathes. She lays her forehead on my chest, and I palm the back of her head, stroking down the length of her hair. She lets me for a minute, and then the waiter is back with the food. I don’t move back to my side of the booth. I stay right where I am, because it’s where I want to be.