“How’s Mateen?” he asks.
“I will not be surprised if he wants to be a fire fighter now.” I snuggle against Nomar’s side. He wraps his arm around me and presses a kiss to the top of my head.
“I talked to Griff a few minutes ago. Heard about his teacher’s fall. He said the fire captain gave the kids a tour of the truck, even ran the siren for them after the ambulance left. Mateen was fascinated.”
“He used to watch for the ambulances out the window of his hospital room at St. Jude’s. He had never seen one before. But he is only nine. Every week, he wants to be something new. I tell him he can choose anything—or everything.”
“He’s a smart kid. Griff can’t get too close, but he says Mateen is constantly asking questions. Good ones. He pays attention. And he looks out for the other kids.”
Heat blooms in my chest. “He was so sick for so long. I think it taught him to be kind.”
“Or you did,” Nomar says. “You raised him, Lisette. Three years ago, he was a little kid obsessed with FIFA and Superman. He didn’t speak a word of French, and he’d never seen the inside of a classroom. Now, he builds robots. He’s on a school trip with his friends.Youdid that.” He sweeps his hand around my living room. “You did all of this. You’re amazing, sweetheart.”
Blushing, I run my hand up and down Nomar’s thigh. It feels sorightto sit and talk with him. To have him in my home. As if we are a normal couple.
“There are moments where it feels like no time at all has passed since we met,” I say softly. “And others where it feels like a lifetime ago.”
He nudges my chin up and slants his lips over mine. The kiss sets me ablaze. Desperate to ease this ache in my core, I straddle him.
His hands sink into my hair. The hint of pain pricking my scalp pulls a moan from my throat. I should not feel this much this soon. But I think…maybe…I have loved him for three years, and only now understand. Ineededhim then. But Iwanthim now.
“Lisette…” He rolls his hips, and I shiver at the feel of his hard length. “Naked. Now.”
Nomar cups my ass, stands, and carries me toward the stairs.
“Put me down before you hurt yourself!” I beat my fists against his back, but cannot stop myself from laughing as he feigns huffing and puffing all the way to my bedroom.
“I could carry you all day, sweetheart. But I’d much rather strip off all your clothes and spend the next few hours showing you just how much you mean to me.”
I thrill at his words. At the depth of emotion welling in his dark brown eyes. At the way he cups my chin and skates his thumb over my lips.
My hands shake, and I reach for the hem of his t-shirt. “I need to ask you for something.”
“Anything, sweetheart.” Nomar kisses me again, and I take strength from the promise in his tone.
With my fingers hooked in his belt loops, I back up until my thighs press against the mattress. “Take off your clothes.”
He still wears his gun on his hip, and works the holster free from his belt before stripping off his blue t-shirt. His boots, jeans, socks, and briefs all land in a pile on the floor.
My gaze lands on his cock, and I lick my lips. “Come closer.”
“You don’t have to.” Nomar sinks to his knees in front of me, his hands sliding under my skirt to skim my thighs. “The piercing can be a lot to handle.”
“I want this.” The room takes on a subtle shimmer, and I brush a single tear from my lashes. “I did not think I could…ever again. But with you… Even if I cannot finish, I want to try. Please.”
He nods, then kisses each bit of skin he uncovers as he helps me out of my clothes. My nipples get extra attention from his lips, teeth, and tongue. By the time I sink down onto the mattress, my core is drenched, and I am ready to beg.
“Go slow, sweetheart. If you need to stop, squeeze my ass. Okay?”
I peer up at him, unsure if I want to smile, cry, or come. I am giving him everything. A part of me I thought would never be whole again.
My fingers curl lightly around his shaft. He twitches in my hold, and his scent fills my nose. Closing my eyes, I curl my lips over my teeth and lean in.
The piercing slips along the roof of my mouth, and his flavor bursts over my tongue. He’s salty and strong, but also sweet. With him, I have no fear—except perhaps that I have forgotten how to do this—a worry that his soft groans quickly dispel.
“Oh, God. Just like that, sweetheart.”
I cannot take him deep. He is too big, too thick. But I work his crown, my tongue pressing to the thick vein on the underside of his shaft. My free hand finds his balls, cupping them gently as I continue to lick and suck. He lets me set the pace, only rocking back and forth on his heels in small, slow movements.
