Leaving Normal by Stef Holm (best ereader for graphic novels TXT) 📕

with lying beside someone— the right someone. She defined it as a comforting strength, a contentment that wasn't there when she was alone.

Again, she wondered if it was because Tony was a fireman and he represented heroic qualities, or was it Tony himself? She had a feeling it was both, but more so the man.

Tony was more than just any man. He was someone she could fall for if she let herself. If she didn't think about the future, if she put the past behind her and she only thought about right now, this second, this fragment in time—she could let her heart open up and take him inside.

So she let the thought drift, let her muscles slacken. She swallowed, feeling herself relax. He stroked her hair, her shoulder; he touched her in a soothing way that rose gooseflesh across her skin, at her nape, on the soft surface of her lips.

She found that dormant place within her that trusted, that didn't need explanations or validations or reasons.

She smiled, thought it felt great to know herself once more. To feel a sense of belonging. She hadn't realized how much she had wanted this, but she hadn't known how to get it.

Tony must have known. He took her there with a touch, without a lot of words. Just being here with him, holding him close, not falling into the sex bed with her—that had been what she needed.

Her smile deepened, her heart lightened and her body released the last fragments of tension.

She slept.

It could have been minutes or hours, but Natalie woke to the steady cadence of a heartbeat beneath her palm. As she roused to consciousness, she realized her hand was on Tony's chest. He lay on his back, her body fitting snugly next to his strength.

The length of her left leg rested between his, the angle of her pelvis pushed against his hip. She stirred slightly, felt the pressure between her legs and grew aroused in a drowsy way that had long been dormant in her.

Darkness bathed the room, lit only by the LCD reading from the bedside clock and streetlight filtering in through the blind slats. Tony slept, a deep and sated sleep—or so she thought. He moved, very slightly. It was almost like a twinge, maybe a dream that flitted through his mind with lightning speed. Whatever it was, she brought her hand to his face to give him comfort.

He didn't readily wake.

She felt his jawline and the bristle of beard. He was rugged and so very masculine. He was all male, sculpted by hard contours and smooth planes of flesh. Even through the heavy fabric of his shirt, she could tell his arms were ripped with muscles.

She wondered what he'd look like without clothes.

That thought hovered within her, giving her pause… had her closing her eyes and imagining. It would be far better to see. To feel. To touch and discover.

In that span of time just after midnight Natalie made a decision. She didn't come to it lightly nor quickly.

Slipping out of bed, she rose to her feet. Tony stirred slightly, a soft rise and fall of his chest. She went into the bathroom and got a book of matches. Going from candle to candle, she lit them until the bedroom flickered with low light from flames.

She was glad he didn't wake as she undressed down to her new bra and panties. Her pulse beat, her skin cooled from the room temperature even though the heat was on.

Leaning over Tony's legs at the end of the bed, she began to slowly crawl toward him until she straddled his legs and gazed into his face.

His hands came around her waist before he even opened his eyes.

Once open, he stared at her with a sleepy expression on his face and a smile curving the corner of his mouth.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and whiskey-smooth.

"Hey," she whispered, lowering herself on top of him so she spanned the length of his body.

His arms slid down her back, keeping her close. She loved the feel of him, the hard muscle that pushed into her breasts. There was no time to feel self-conscious in the underwear she'd chosen.

She'd bought pink lace, next-to-nothing panties with a matching bra. They were satin with ivory trim. The panties were French-cut with lace panels. She felt sexy-feminine in them.

Tony's hands moved down her spine, cupped her behind.

"I can't see what you're wearing. Stand up."

The notion of modeling what she'd bought for him sort of gave her a brief panic. While she wasn't overweight, she didn't have a flawless body. After all, she'd had a baby eighteen years ago. What used to be firm and perky was now softer and more pear-shaped.

"Stand up," he said once more, his tone scratchy— not from sleep but from a desire that heated his skin. She could feel it. He was hot to her touch.

She backed away, took a step from the bed and stood there. It took all her willpower not to cover herself with her hands. Having a younger man examine her was new and unnerving.

Tony's body was perfect. She didn't have to see beneath his clothing to know he wasn't carrying an ounce of extra weight. She'd felt the ridges of his abs when she'd lain on top of him, the swell of his pectorals.

His eyes traveled her body, from her breasts to waist, her pubic area, hips and legs. "You look great."

The words of affirmation made her smile, relax a notch. "Thanks."

"Really sexy."

"I wouldn't go that far, but I appreciate the comment."

"Natalie," he half snorted. "I never bullshit anyone. Especially not you. Come here."

She went back to him, stretched out on top of his hard body and he kissed her.

He bunched her hair in his hand, keeping her head close, his mouth locked over hers. He had the nicest lips. So soft, smooth and warm. He knew how to master a kiss, to apply just the right amount of pressure. Not too wet, not too