A Place Without you

by Jewel E. Ann

  “I saw that.” Grinning against her delicate flesh, I press my body harder to hers, allowing my other hand the chance to claim her other breast.

  She arches into me, hands tugging my hair, encouraging me to keep going.

  It’s funny how my mind went from feeling guilty about her age to working overtime to justify everything I want to do to her in this moment. She’s an adult. A consenting adult.

  With condoms.

  Lots of condoms.

  I only need one, and if she continues to make those desperate little noises while rubbing herself against my dick, I’m not going to need any condoms.

  The girl makes me so weak in the knees, I fear I might drop her. I lower both of our bodies to the floor. There’s a king-sized bed, a sofa on the balcony, even a chaise lounge in the corner of the bedroom, but I’m so damn desperate and high on Henna, the floor is as far as I can get us.

  I settle my body between her open legs and push her top above her breasts with one hand while supporting my body over hers with my other hand. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” My attention lifts to her blue eyes.

  The tip of her tongue darts out to wet her swollen lips. I want that tongue tasting me. My hips rock into her.

  Fuck … I need inside of her.

  “Take …” She swallows hard, her cheeks filled with heat. “Take off my shorts, Bodhi.”

  Stealing a few moments to let those words sink in, I dip down and taste one of her nipples with a slow slide of my tongue over it before flicking it several times then sucking it hard.

  “Jesus, Bodhi!” Her back bows off the floor, her hands clawing my back and my shoulders.

  I do the same thing to her other breast, making her squirm and pant beneath me as I inch down her body, teasing her navel with the tip of my tongue, tracing the swirl of henna leading me even lower. Her hands return to my head, making claim to my hair, her bracelets clinking together.

  Biting the material of her shorts, I tug it until the button comes undone. “What do you taste like, Henna?” I run my tongue along her skin just above her delicate polka dot panties.

  Her heavy breaths fill the space around us as she lifts her pelvis from the floor. I run my nose along the inseam of her shorts, torturing myself as much as her, yet loving every second of it. God … I don’t want it to stop.

  “Henna? Henna’s sexy friend? Breakfast!” Lauren calls from some place relatively close to the bedroom door that I feel fairly certain is not locked.

  I freeze.

  “In a minute,” Henna says in a voice so weakened by lust, there is no way Lauren hears her. “Don’t stop.”

  I wince as Henna tugs my hair, trying to keep my head between her spread legs. She pushes her pelvis an inch higher.

  I want to keep going—so much it hurts in very restricted places. Looking for my watch that isn’t on my wrist because she stole it last night, I’m reminded that I probably don’t have time for breakfast, and if I don’t get back to the hotel, I’m not going to have time for a shower and clean clothes—a ketchup-free shirt.

  But … I only have two days left with Henna.

  “Bodhi, please.”

  Closing my eyes, I grip her ass with one hand, holding her to me while my lips brush the soft skin of her inner thighs, my tongue teasing her so close to the top I about lose it when she jerks and moans, lifting even higher onto her tippy toes. Her desperation multiplies mine.

  “Acai bowls, fresh juice, croissants.” Lauren’s words come from a farther distance, but they still dampen my resolve.

  I ease away from Henna.

  “No! God, no!” She sits up, hair wild and completely ineffable. Her shirt falls back over her breasts as she grabs my face and plunges her tongue into my mouth.

  Tacos aren’t life. This girl is life.

  I kiss her, my hands conflicted as I try to push her away for one second before sliding back up under her shirt to claim her breasts again.

  She releases my face and traces her fingers down my torso, her tongue sliding against mine as she works the button to my jeans.

  Fuck …

  My watch chimes from her handbag a few feet to the left of us. My reminder to not be late. I pull away again, out of breath and out of my damn mind.

  “Bodhi.” Henna jumps to her feet after I stand, running my hands through my hair while trying to make sense of what almost happened with a girl I met yesterday.

  I hold out a flat hand to keep her at arm’s length. “Don’t.”

  Said no sane man EVER!

  A slow-building smile works its way up her face. Yeah, she’s all kinds of trouble—Hell.

  “The acai bowls are bland, and the croissants are dry.”

  I grin for a second, but it quickly fades when her playfulness sinks into my gut. The problem is I like every single thing about Henna, and I don’t care that we’ve only known each other one day. Time is a weak force compared to other earthly phenomena like magnetism.

  Attraction doesn’t give a shit about time. It wants what it wants.

  I know one thing for sure—long after our time ends, I will feel an invisible pull to her for the rest of my life.

  Yin and Yang.

  Positive and negative.

  Bodhi and Henna.

  “I’m not even sure it’s physically possible to tear myself away from you,” I say, taking a step away from her and feeling the immediate invisible resistance. “But I have to try because I have to be someplace in a short while, and …” I shake my head as she tries to move toward me again. “Per your warning about the acai bowls and croissants, I’ll just grab a glass of juice before I go.”

  Her mouth twists as her eyes narrow a fraction. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  Henna nods. “Yep. Okay.”

  It feels like a trap. The smile she gives me isn’t a submissive okay. It’s evil and no doubt a hiding-something-that-will-probably-ruin-me kind of smile.

  “I’m leaving now.” I jab my thumb over my shoulder toward the door, eyes wide in anticipation of her next move.

  “Okay.” She laces her fingers behind her back and rocks back and forth on her heels.

  I squint, nodding slowly. “O—kay.”

  “Oh!” She holds up a finger and jogs to the balcony, retrieving my shirt. “Don’t forget to stain treat it.”

  I take the shirt, slipping it back on with the ketchup in the front again. “I think it’s headed for the trash.”

  “Well, I’m headed for the shower.” Fishing my watch from her purse, she hands it to me and lifts onto her toes, stamping a quick kiss on my cheek before retreating to the bathroom. “Bye, Bodhi.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Henna

  WHITE CROP TOP tied in front.

  Ample cleavage.

  No bra.

  Denim miniskirt.

  White ankle boots.

  Hair down.

  Flower crowned head.

  Mission: find Bodhi.

  “Hey, Juni.” I answer my phone as I worm my way through the festivalgoers after surviving the cluster fuck of security.

  “Sunscreen?”

  “Yes.” I wait for the real reason for her call.

  “Hat?”

  “In my bag.”

  “How many condoms do you have left?”

  I glance behind me, frowning at the shadow that’s been following me since I left the hotel after my dad cancelled.

  “Should I be worried about the gray-haired man following me who looks completely out of place?”

  “I’m a cool mom, but I’m still a mom. Ignore him. I want you to have fun, but safety is my first priority.”

  I pull out my hat and swap it for the flower crown. It’s going to be a freakishly hot day. “Thank you. I think.”

  “So … I got the picture from Lauren. He’s adorable. Bodhi?”

  I smile, sighing like a lovestruck fool. “Yes. He’s … life.”

  “He’s an experience.”

  I snake my way through the shoulder
-to-shoulder crowd in one of the tents. “I know. And he’s … everything. God! I had the best night of my life.”

  “And you were—”

  “No condoms. We didn’t get that far.” I roll my eyes.

  “So tell me everything about him.”

  “Not much to tell. We didn’t share our bios.”

  “Smart. You might not see him after tomorrow. Just have fun. Have you seen a lot of friends?”

  “Some. I sorta got distracted by Bodhi yesterday.”

  “Mmm … I remember those days.”

  Dad. She remembers my dad. That makes me grin again.

  “I’ll call you later, unless I get distracted. But I’m sure the gray-haired shadow will keep you appraised of my whereabouts.” Glancing back, I watch the poor guy try to battle the sea of bodies to keep up with me.

  “Love you. Be safe. Have fun. And condoms, Henna. Don’t forget them.”

  “Yeah, yeah, bye.” I slip my phone into my bag and hunch down to find a few holes to maneuver my way to the stage. Within minutes, the crowd goes wild as lights come to life and the lyrics to one of my favorite songs spill from the stacks of speakers.

  After hours of milling around the tents, getting lost in the pulse of the crowds, and scoring a cold drink, I set out to find ketchup guy. But … no luck.

  I snap a selfie with only the bottom half of my face to allow my cleavage to have the focus, then I text it to Bodhi.

  Me: Missing my sidekick.

  A few minutes later, he responds with a selfie of himself drenched in sweat, another white shirt sans stain, and sipping a sports drink. It looks like he’s sitting on the edge of a stage, but I can’t tell for sure.

  Me: I bet you have your own screaming crowd. Location please? I called dibs on you today.

  He sends me a short video of his surroundings.

  Bodhi: Come find me.

  I grin. This isn’t my first Coachella. I know exactly where he’s at. Spewing off apologies for my shoving and pushing to break free from the crowd, I take long strides to another stage that isn’t set to have a show start for a while. Everything vibrates inside of me as I wear a permanent grin.

  “Sorry, miss. This is a restricted area.” A security guard holds up his hand as I make my way toward the side of the stage.

  I retrieve my pass from my bag. Mr. Security Guard inspects it then gives me the nod while stepping to the side.

  Rounding the corner to where I feel certain Bodhi is at, I freeze. A blonde wearing a shirt that says Crew on the back throws her head back in laughter as Bodhi animatedly talks to her.

  “You’re too much.” She nudges the toe of her shoe into the toe of his boot.

  I have a place I want to stick my foot as well.

  “Let’s get a drink as soon as you’re done.”

  “Um …”

  I jump behind a large speaker as he turns his head to look around.

  “I think I have plans.”

  “Well, if you don’t, text me.”

  “Yeah. Absolutely.”

  I peek around the speaker just as he returns a genuine smile to the other crew member.

  “Cool. Later.” She sashays off in the other direction.

  Bodhi lifts his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow and blond girl shoots him an admiring glance over her shoulder. The hair on the back of my neck stands erect as my claws inch their way out. I had no idea I was catty, until now.

  I’m not trouble. Bodhi is trouble.

  Returning to my hiding spot, I contemplate just walking away. We only have two days—really more like one and a half. He’s going his way, and I have school in the fall. There’s no room for promises or cattiness. We are temporary—don’t sweat it, everything is temporary.

  “Let’s stop time so we don’t have to say goodbye.”

  I jump as two familiar arms wrap around me from my backside.

  How the hell did he sneak around here and find me?

  “Bodhi …” I sigh his name, closing my eyes and relaxing my head back onto his chest.

  “Henna.” He kisses my neck.

  My arms cover his. I don’t want him to let me go, and I have no idea what to do with that realization.

  He whips me around and pins me to the speaker, holding my hands behind my back. “No bra. Interesting choice when wearing a thin white shirt.” His tongue makes a lazy swipe across his lower lip.

  “I wore it for you.”

  A twitch of a grin nudges his lips, eyes alight with mischief. He hums. “For me?”

  I nod.

  He takes his time letting his gaze roam along my body. “If you dressed for me…” he looks around before leaning closer to my ear and lowering his voice “…you’d be naked.”

  Feeling extra flushed, I hold my breath until I can speak without stammering a bunch of nonsense. “I offered you naked Henna. You wanted a glass of juice and a quick getaway.”

  A throaty laugh escapes him. “Clear lapse in judgment on my part.”

  I let my thoughts simmer into secrets I will never be able to share with him. Something about him makes me want to get all sappy and sentimental. Probably the same something that had my claws curling, ready to attack an innocent blonde just minutes ago.

  “When are you done?”

  He glances at his watch. “Five hours.”

  I frown.

  “But I have forty-five minutes to grab some food. Can I feed you too?”

  With only hours remaining, I want to spend Bodhi’s forty-five free minutes making out with him. I can’t get enough. New attraction is like the first glance of an exquisite view or the first bite of the most delectable dessert. I want to indulge on Bodhi, but lunch is fine.

  It’s safe.

  “Lunch sounds perfect.”

  He takes my hand, letting our fingers intertwine, and we grab two Korean BBQ bowls and ice cream on the way back to the stage where Bodhi has to work.

  “It’s melting. You’d better hurry up.” Bodhi points to the blue ice cream melting down my wrist. “You’re gonna get—OH!” He fists his hand at his mouth as it drips down the front of my white top.

  “Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” I lick it as fast as I can, but the desert heat is one step ahead of me. “Help!” I hold it away from my stained shirt as it continues to drip.

  Bodhi grabs my wrist and starts licking the ice cream in the cone, the pools of it running down the sides. Then he licks my fingers and forearm, eyeing me with a mischievous grin around his lapping tongue.

  I want that tongue. I want those lips. And when my smile fades, I think he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

  Without taking his eyes off me, he, too, loses all playfulness. It’s replaced with the same need I have. I know this because I’m certain Henna and Bodhi is a phenomenon greater than the simplicity of fate. We are a definable law of nature like those that came before us from Newton, Ohm, and Mendel.

  He tosses the rest of my ice cream in the trash and pulls me around to the side of the tent. There are a few people, maybe fifteen yards away, vaping and chatting, but …

  We don’t care.

  Bodhi grabs my face and kisses me. Our tongues and hands lose all control, feeling each other everywhere.

  “Get a room,” someone says on a laugh in the distance, followed by a few whistles and snickers.

  We don’t care.

  Every crazy emotion stays caged in my head and my heart because that’s what they are—crazy. I want to beg him to tell me everything.

  His last name.

  His address.

  His age.

  His greatest childhood memory.

  And his most daunting fear.

  But we are temporary. I need to keep reminding myself of that one truth.

  His hand brushes over the thin material of my crop top. I moan into our deep kiss while he skims his thumb over my hard nipple.

  More whistles and catcalls ensue.

  We need someplace more private. Someplace that requires a condom to prevent nine-mo
nth surprises.

  “Hen—”

  I fist his shirt to keep us attached at the mouth as he tries to pull away. There isn’t enough time to get my fill of him. There will never be enough time.

  “Henna—”

  I kiss his neck, tracing my tongue along his collarbone.

  “Let’s go somewhere more private.” I slide my hands around his back and poke them down into his pockets, giving his nice ass a firm squeeze.

  “Fuck …” He rests his forehead on mine, breathless. “Trouble. Hell. You’re my complete undoing.”

  “What do you think I taste like?” I whisper.

  “What?” he says with a strained voice.

  “You asked me what I tasted like.” I shrug. “I don’t know what I taste like. But …” My heart knocks wildly against my ribs as I realize I want Bodhi. I want to use those condoms. All of them. “I want you to tell me what I taste like.”

  “Henna … I …” He pushes me so my backside is almost touching the tent, his body guarding me from our audience in the distance.

  We stare at each other with drunken eyes and parted lips as his right hand squeezes my ass, sliding my miniskirt up a bit.

  I swallow hard, knowing that if someone were to walk around the tent they’d see my half-exposed ass, something that the whistlers down the way can’t see.

  “Tonight.” I kiss him, letting my tongue tease his lips first to ask permission.

  He returns one last kiss that liquefies every inch of my body, leaving me a mere pool of a girl on the ground. “Tonight.” He grins. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”

  *

  FOR THE NEXT five hours, I meander around the festival, higher than I’ve ever been after any form of pot. Every ten minutes, I post a snap, resisting the urge to hashtag with #CountdownToLosingMyVirginity.

  Showered, waxed, and covered in a thin layer of lotion, with nothing more than a long, flowing sundress covering my otherwise naked body and pink Birkies, I wait by the exit we took last night. I know Bodhi should be calling me at any moment as the scant, lingering crowd filters out at the end of night two.

  Over my shoulder and a safe but protective distance away, Mr. Bodyguard watches me. He’s not here to adjust my moral compass or rat me out for a few gummy bears; he’s here to make sure no one harms me. That’s it. That’s just how cool my mom and stepdad are.