by R. R. Banks
I press my head back against the bed and bite my bottom lip as he stretches me open, the slight stab of pain blending with the wave of pleasure sweeping through me. Colin starts to gently move his hips, his eyes locked onto mine as he slides himself in and out of me with a sense of tenderness. He kisses me, and our tongues meld together as he moves inside of me.
I grip his forearms, my nails digging into his flesh. We're moving slowly, making sure to take our time, and I’m savoring every single moment I have him inside of me. He never breaks eye contact with me, and somehow, it makes everything even more intense than the other day.
The way he fucked me in my studio was hot. Beyond hot. It was amazing. I was so turned on – so ready for him – it barely registered that I was finally losing my virginity. And I orgasmed harder than ever before. But I’m sure the way he's making love to me right now, sweetly, and without any sense of urgency, will make me come just as hard.
I gasp as I feel every inch of him slide deep into me as Colin slowly drives himself into my most sensitive spots. I shudder and gasp, digging my nails even harder into his flesh as I'm buffeted by waves of utter bliss.
His breathing is growing ragged, and his voice is hoarse as he moans, softly calling out my name. I arch my back, taking him even deeper inside of me, and his body grows even tighter. I know he's racing to the edge of bliss himself, and given the powerful currents of ecstasy raging through my body, I'm going to get there with him – if not before.
The intensity is driving me wild. The way he looks at me, and how he holds me with his gaze, like he thinks I'm the most beautiful creature in the world, only adds more kindling to the fires of desire spiraling wildly out of control.
He stutters and gasps, losing his rhythm for a moment. I see his jaw clench, and know he's holding back. Trying to draw this out and make it last.
“Come for me, Colin,” I call softly. “Come inside of me. I want to feel you.”
He squeezes his eyes shut as he thrusts himself into me deep, holding himself there. He hits that spot and sends me tumbling over the edge. I tremble and cry out as a powerful orgasm crashes over me. A moment later, Colin lets out a garbled breath. He shudders, and that's it. I feel his cock throbbing and pulsing within the condom inside of me.
He lowers his head and grits his teeth as he explodes. I cling to him as I tremble while he shudders on top of me. Together, we ride the twin currents of pleasure that have us soaring higher and higher.
Colin collapses on the bed next to me, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His eyes are wide and he stares up at the canopy, doing his best to try and catch his breath. I lay my head on his chest, snuggling up next to him and relishing how his strong body feels next to mine. I've never felt safer in my life. And honestly, I've never felt more loved.
It's ridiculous, really. We don't know each other well enough yet to even be thinking, let alone saying the “L” word out loud. That doesn't mean, that I can't feel it, though. This man has demolished all of the walls and defenses I’ve built over the years. He's destroyed everything I used to keep myself out of harm's way – emotionally speaking, of course.
I wasn't necessarily looking for a partner when Colin came crashing into my life, but, here we are. Curled up next to him, feeling his body pressed to mine, listening to his slow, steady breathing, and strong heartbeat, just feels natural. It feels right.
And that scares me to death.
I don't know how Colin feels. I mean, I get the idea that he likes me. But, not knowing if his feelings are as intense as mine, or if he actually feels the same, scares me to death. I feel like I'm way out on a ledge without a safety harness here. And nobody’s there to catch me if I fall.
It's a terrifying feeling – but it's exhilarating at the same time. In a weird, kind of perverse way. I haven't closed myself off to love as much as Colin has, I just haven't been looking. I've been focused on my art and activism, and haven't had much time or room in my life for anything else. It's not that I wanted to be alone, I just figured that when the time was right, the perfect man would reveal himself to me.
I never expected that man would be someone with totally opposite views from my own.
But, are we really that different? After seeing what he did tonight – all day today, actually – from buying me a closet full of clothing, to offering to pay for Father Gus' medical care, to giving Matthew a job – it makes me think the man might have a heart of gold. Sure, it's buried under layers upon layers of baggage and other dark stuff, but at the end of the day, Colin is a man with compassion and integrity. With love in his heart.
And that's the kind of person I want to be with.
The real question is whether or not I'm the kind of woman Colin wants to be with. I sometimes see glimpses of him that make me think so. Other times, I doubt myself. Doubt that what I'm seeing, and experiencing, is real.
His breathing is steady and regular. He's passed out, asleep. I curl myself around him tighter and try to shut out all of the negative thoughts in my head. Try to drown out the nagging voices of doubt. I just want to live in this moment and enjoy it to the fullest.
A small, satisfied smile upon my lips, I let the darkness of sleep wrap its tendrils around me and pull me under.
Colin
The sunlight streams in through the curtains, and for a confusing minute or two, I can't remember where I am. I lay there, having been woken from a dream that seemed particularly vivid, but the second I opened my eyes, it fluttered away like a dandelion on the breeze.
In that moment, nothing looks familiar to me, and my heart is beating wildly inside my chest as panic creeps in. I stare at the walls around me, trying to piece together my dream and my thoughts – trying in vain to understand where I am. At least, until my bedmate rustles the blankets beside me. When I turn my head and see Bailey, it all comes rushing back in sharp detail.
I'm at home. In one of the guest bedrooms. And with those realizations, I suddenly recall the night before, remembering how we'd made love. As snippets and flashes of making love to her scroll through my mind, my breath catches in my throat.
Bailey's eyes open, and when she smiles, I can’t help but think to myself that she might be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life. My heart swells to the point I’m afraid it might burst.
“Good morning,” she says, her voice groggy.
Bailey stifles a yawn as she scoots next to me, nuzzling her body closer to mine. She moves as if she wants me to put my arm around her, but suddenly stops. Maybe she notices the look on my face, which I'm sure matches the sense of disconnect I’m experiencing in my head.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
“Yeah, I'm just a little disoriented,” I say. “It's been a long time since I've had anyone stay over. I literally haven't woken up next to someone else in years.”
There's a moment of tense silence between us as she looks at me and searches my eyes for something, though I'm not sure what. It's awkward for me, knowing what happened between us the night before. There's no denying it, I feel something for her, and judging by the way she looks at me, I can see she feels it too. It's more than just a simple crush. It's already deeper and more profound than some mild case of infatuation or simple puppy love.
Whatever “it” happens to be, neither one of us is quite sure what to make of it yet. At least, I know I'm not.
I pull her to me, letting her curl up closer to my body – savoring the warmth. Her naked flesh is soft and comforting against mine, and I can lay there and revel in it for hours, never getting tired of it. As we lay there in silence, our bodies intertwined, my eyes begin to flutter shut again. I can totally go back to sleep right now, nestled against Bailey's perky, supple body. But I can tell that even though she's not saying anything and is laying there in perfect silence, she's very much awake right now. I'd feel like a bit of an ass if I fell asleep while she was still laying there, wide awake.
“You okay?” I ask.
She nods. “I'm
good,” she replies softly. “You?”
“I'm good,” I say.
We speak in hushed whispers, as if speaking in our normal tone of voice would somehow shatter whatever fragile, delicate thing is hovering between us.
“What are your plans for the day?” she finally asks.
“You know, destroy a few lives, tear people from their homes, the usual,” I answer. “Maybe, I'll even start a genocide somewhere, just for kicks.”
I pull away, propping myself up on my elbow to stare at her. She's smiling, but I can tell that she isn’t finding my jokes very funny at the moment. Not in the least, actually. So, when I see the serious look on her face, I just sigh.
“Sorry, I was just messing with you,” I say, tucking a wisp of loose hair behind her ear.
“Well, I'm not amused.”
“I can tell,” I say. “Though, I tend to find it adorable when you're mad. Just so you know.”
“Then you must find me adorable a lot,” she says, “since you seem to have a unique gift to provoke my anger.”
Even though her words are harsh, there's much less heat and anger behind them than there would have been weeks ago. It probably has to do with the fact that we've slept together a couple of times now, if I’m being honest. Kinda hard to hold a grudge against someone you've just slept with the night before.
That's progress, though, right?
We had such a beautiful time the night before, that I really don't know what has her so rattled this morning. I don’t know why Bailey seems so on edge. Did she have a bad dream? All I know is that last night, things seemed fine. We actually seemed to be drawing even closer to each other than before. And, of course, that culminated in our making love. In making each other feel good.
“Talk to me,” I say. “You don't seem like yourself. What’s changed since last night?”
She hesitates a moment, opening her mouth to say something, only to close it again without speaking. I reach out and stroke her cheek, looking deeply into her eyes, as I try to figure out what's going on with her.
“You can tell me anything, Bailey,” I say. “It's okay. We can talk through anything together.”
“I just – I like how things are going between us,” she says. “And I guess I'm kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop?”
I cock my head and look at her. “What do you mean?”
She shrugs. “I don't know,” she says. “I mean, I know you're not big on relationships. And I keep thinking back to the first time we had sex in my studio, and how awkward it was afterward, and how you couldn't get out of there fast enough. I guess I'm kind of expecting you to run at any moment.”
I chuckle softly. “For one thing, this is my house, so it's not like I can go very far.”
She remains stone-faced, not laughing at all. She doesn’t even have the grace to give me a courtesy laugh. Which means this is more serious than I thought.
“I had a dream that you left me,” she says. “Only, it felt like more than a dream. It felt more like a – premonition, I guess.”
“Do you see me trying to go anywhere, Bailey?”
She shakes her head, but it seems to do little to mollify her.
“I'll admit, I'm more than a little nervous,” I say. “But, something's changed between us. Or rather, you've changed something within me. And I like it, Bailey. I don't know what it is, and I obviously can't promise you anything right now, but I like what this is, and even more, I like where it's going.”
“Really?” she asks me, her face so wide-eyed and innocent that it melts my heart.
“Really,” I say.
She presses her body to mine with more force than before, wrapping her arms around me, and burying her face in my chest. She plants kisses all over my pecs and abs, seeming to take an enormous amount of comfort from having me right next to her, holding her. Touching her. It's almost as if she's drawing strength from our physical contact, and needs more, just to reassure herself.
I reach out and stroke her cheek, looking deeply into her eyes. The mood in the bedroom seems to be lighter now as the tension that marked our first moments awake slowly, but surely evaporates. I run my thumb across her soft, full lips, recalling how amazing they felt pressed to mine.
“You're lucky I don't bite your finger off,” she teases.
“That might be okay,” I say. “After all, I’ve always been fond of a woman who bites.”
“Careful what you ask for.”
“I usually am.”
She nips at my hand unexpectedly and catches my thumb between her teeth. A playful light gleams in her eyes as she makes a vicious growling sound, and I yelp, pretending that she's hurting me. I know it might seem silly, goofy, and childish. But, I can't help it. I enjoy having fun and acting like a kid when I'm around her.
She releases my thumb before grabbing hold of it and placing a gentle kiss on it. Then, just for good measure, Bailey leans forward and plants a soft kiss on my lips. I chuckle to myself and can't help but look back in wonder at how we got here. It's crazy to think that one woman who had the power to get under my skin as deeply as she did, is now even deeper beneath my skin, for an entirely different reason. Whereas once, she made me feel little more than anger and annoyance, now, she makes my heart race, and makes me tremble with absolute passion and desire.
Now, I can't imagine my days without her. I can't imagine going an hour, let alone a day, without seeing that sparkle in her eye, hearing her laughter, or feeling her body against mine. I can't imagine not talking to her, debating with her, arguing with her, loving on her, sharing our hopes, dreams, desires, and passions. Bailey has brought something to my life I never expected, and now, it seems that I can’t live without it.
What's more – and what's even scarier – is that not only can I not imagine it, I find that I don't want to.
“Penny for your thoughts?” she asks.
“I was just thinking about what a huge pain in the ass you used to be,” I say.
“I hope I still am,” she says. “I don't plan on changing anything about myself.”
I laugh softly. “Nor would I ask you to,” I say. “You know I admire you for your passion and the courage of your convictions, believe it or not.”
“My convictions? As in criminal? I've been charged many times but have never been convicted. Not even once, believe it or not,” she says, playfully poking me in the chest.
I roll my eyes but am still smiling. “I'm actually kind of surprised,” I say. “I mean, it's not like you're a criminal mastermind, exactly.”
She slaps me in the chest, laughing. “You just called me stupid.”
“No, that's just what you heard,” I say. “Think of it kind of like a Rorschach test. I have to say, your answer is very telling.”
She laughs, lightly slapping me in the chest again, and my heart swells with an unfettered feeling of happiness. One that makes my soul feel like it’s glowing. This is the kind of effect Bailey has on me – I think this might be the first time I've even considered the idea of having a soul, let alone one that glows with giddiness.
But with her, I feel like all things are possible. It's crazy, but it's true. That’s what I’d like to refer to as the “Bailey effect.”
As she continues to giggle, I roll over onto my back, and the blanket gets pulled down off my chest. Bailey rolls with me, and she lays her head on my chest, idly stroking the bare skin on my torso. The feel of her nails on my flesh sends a pleasant chill through me. I reach out and gently run my fingers through her hair, which she seems to like. We lay like that for a while, the silence between us no longer strained, but comfortable. Companionable. Filled with something a lot closer to love, than not.
“I admire you for standing up for what you believe in,” I say. “Even if what you believe in goes against everything I stand for, I still respect the hell out of it. I admire your courage and your fearlessness. It's something uncommon in people today.”
She raises her head and stares at me with her
mouth hanging open, seemingly unable to say anything at all. The look on her face says she can't believe what she's just heard. Which is odd because it's not the first time I've expressed similar sentiments. Maybe not as forcefully, or convincingly as right now, perhaps.
Slowly, that look of awe and stunned disbelief melts away, and is replaced by that mischievous grin she sometimes gets. There's a devilish sparkle in her eyes as she looks at me and starts to sing.
“Colin likes me,” she croons in that high-pitched, sing-song voice of hers. “He's got a crush on me. A big old crush. Oh yeah, Colin Anderson has a crush on me –”
Her impromptu concert is cut off when I smack her in the head with a pillow. She laughs and hits me back with her pillow. And together, like children, we're laughing and shrieking as we roll around, wrestling, and roughhousing in bed.
Once our wrestling match ends, we lay there, our bodies intertwined, for what feels like hours. We talk, sharing stories about ourselves and our lives. We get to know each other on a deeper level than before. We're open, honest, and share everything with one another – and the wonderful feeling of lightness, of being free, consumes me. It’s foreign and strange, but all consuming.
And everything in the world, in that moment, feels so fucking right.
Bailey
“You ready for this?” he asks.
I swallow hard but give him a thumbs up. “Good to go, boss.”
“Don't call me that,” he says and laughs.
It's D-Day, and I can't recall a time when I've been more nervous. Not even before my very first gallery show. My body is trembling, and it's not because it's freezing cold outside, either. There was a light dusting of snow overnight, and although the sun is out and quickly slipping toward the horizon as the day gives way to night – it was never warm enough today to melt it all, so the world around us looks like it's been nestled into a smooth, white blanket. It's one of the things I love about living here – the natural beauty of the seasons.