Love me
I sense somehow she hears me. She pulls back enough to look up into my eyes.
“Oh, Nathan,” she whispers. “Don’t you realize how much I need you?” Her voice has a desperate edge, her grip tight on my arms.
Show me
Her shirt peels off easily, a white flag waving before it falls. My lips trail across her forehead and into her hair. Hands reach, skimming bare skin, but it’s not enough. Insatiable, I crave more and more…I desire everything…every part of her.
“I need you too, Brooke, more than you know.” I run both hands through her hair and pull her into a kiss.
Choose me, my heart murmurs.
Her hands pull my jeans open and I sigh as her fingers slowly dip inside.
“I want you, baby,” she says softly.
Another deep kiss, there’s a sharp pull from my heart to hers.
“I’ll always take care of you…cherish you,” I say gently.
Believe in me.
“You promise?” She moves my hand to her breast, now bare.
Cross my heart
“Yes, yes,” I assure her, fingers circling as she leans closer.
Be with me…forever.
She pushes her skirt off her hips, until it puddles around her feet. She’s glorious in her bare beauty, curves to graze with my tongue, my fingers, my soul.
Her lips press against my ear, the soft whisper. “Make love to me.”
Yes. She is mine.
Up on the bed, I’m on my knees with her soft hips cradled in my hands. I pull her closer slowly. The sense of fullness once I’m completely inside of her is overwhelming. She’s a vision as she moves with me. Even in the faint light I can see her eyes look straight through me.
I love you, Brooke
“Nathan,” she whispers, again and again as I touch her tenderly.
Never stop calling my name…especially when you’re in my arms
“Is this what you need?” I ask, my fingers sliding, full of intention while I continue to rock into her. I watch her carefully, every stroke an attempt to make her tremble.
“No one has ever made me feel like this.” She tightens and sighs, then opens deeper.
We are meant for each other, Brooke
The way her hair fans across the sheets is startling, a silk headdress, worthy of a queen.
“Do I feel good to you?” she whispers, then moans.
I can’t…I can’t find the words for her perfection
“Jesus, Brooke.”
Shining eyes. “…oh, my love,” she whispers.
I curl over her, and her legs trail mine as my strokes go deeper, harder, pushing us somewhere we’ve never gone. She gasps with each thrust and I feel her sigh of surrender right before my movements become desperate and hard.
“I love you…so…much,” I stutter.
She cries out and pulls me close as we climax. The world falls away as we hold each other tightly in our own mysterious and unending galaxy.
Our bodies seem to stay connected long after we finally pull apart.
• • •
I wake just as dawn breaks and slowly realize where I am. Brooke’s wrapped around me like a starfish on her rock and I sigh with contentment. The memory of the night before fills me with hope and resolve.
In the quiet I conclude that it’s a waste of time to worry about our future. It is certain and destined, even if we have to crawl out of the jungle to shed a monkey on our journey. Brooke will find another job, I have B-Girl and plenty of savings…but most importantly, we will be together.
By the time Brooke wakes, my positive attitude is solid and it rubs off on her too. We watch the DVD collection of Gumby and Pokey episodes over coffee, toast and jam. When it’s finally time to head out, I keep it light agreeing that I’ll text her mid morning. I resolve to listen to Wayne Dyer on my iPod as long as possible while I visualize Brooke and I, united in our own little world.
• • •
I try to focus on work and get a fair amount done. I’m proud I’ve lasted until almost eleven before I finally text her.
Thinking about my girl…how’s it going? Have you seen Mojo yet?
I’m fine, love. No, he’s been in closed-door meetings all morning so I haven’t had to deal with him yet.
Okay. I’ll check in with you later. I love you.
I love you too. XO
I take a break from Bucky and take some time to study Joel’s Robbie model sheets for the new project when I suddenly hear my name.
“Nathan?”
I think I recognize her from HR. She always has the fake happy look on her face.
“Yes?”
“I need you to come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“We need to talk to you.”
“We? Can you tell me what’s this about?”
“Please just come with me,” she insists. The happy smile is gone.
So this is how it’s going to go. I turn off Wayne Dyer silently hoping that he stays with me even if I have to leave my iPod behind.
I follow her to the elevator. It’s the most nerve-wracking ride I’ve ever had, the silence is like a deafening scream. As soon as we step off I realize that we’re heading towards Arnold’s office.
“Why aren’t we going to HR?” I ask, trying to manage my nerves.
“It was decided to have this meeting here.” She says simply likes she’s giving me directions to the mailroom or something.
When she pulls open his office door I pause at the threshold, realizing that there isn’t a single thing inside I’m ready for. Curtis taught me that in football a blindside is when you are tackled without seeing it coming. My instincts tell me to run the other direction, but I know a man must face things head on.
I am Brooke’s man, and I will not run.
I step inside and scan the room. The main HR lady is in the first seat, sitting so upright she looks like she has a metal rod up her back. Then there are two suits watching me carefully, another strangely familiar looking guy sitting just outside the pack and then finally Arnold, seething like a monkey who’s had his banana taken away. The death glare he gives me would totally derail me if Wayne and his affirmations didn’t have my back.
Brooke is gloriously absent from this train wreck and I’m so glad. It’s the one bright spot of relief in this cheery gathering.
“Please have a seat Mr. Evans,” suit lady directs and points to the chair facing the firing squad. “These are our lawyers, Mr. Ruiz and Mr. Felton,” she informs me as she points to the suits on my right.
Damn.
I have two thoughts. The first is that I’m pretty sure I’m not here to get a promotion. I have to fight off a smile at my humor in the face of disaster.
The second is that they can fire me for some bogus reason and blast me out of here on a rocket. It’s not going to change anything that matters to me.
Fuck them…every single one of the soulless fuckers.
I move to the chair, sit down and fold my arms over my chest defiantly. Let’s get this done.
I’m ready, you raving assholes.
Bring it on.
Animate Me / Chapter Twenty-Five / What’s Mine is Yours?
“Hurry Cecil, he’s wrecking our terribly happy magic kingdom!” ~Beany Boyxxiv
“Nathan Evans?” Suit lady asks.
Is this a trick question? My sullen audience regards me warily. I glance around the room and note that Mojo only has framed posters of Sketch Republic shows up and the show pictured in front of me was canceled last season. He really should get that replaced.