by Portia Moore
“Hey Stranger, haven’t seen you in a while,” she says chipperly, leaning just enough so he can see her already exposed boobs. He finishes his set and God his groans would turn me on if fitness Barbie wasn’t the one to greet him as he finishes.
“Hey Audrey, where’ve you been?” he asks her with that easy smile that gives me butterflies.
“My shift got changed at the hospital, so I come in the evenings now,” she answers. Once he’s sitting all the way up he looks over at me and I pray that he doesn’t call me over but of course he does. I begrudgingly make my way over.
“Hi I’m Madison,” I tell her extending my hand. I note the quick sweep she does over my pajama-like gym clothes.
“Audrey. Nice to meet you.” I can tell she’s trying to figure out the connection. I know she likes Alex and I wonder if he’s slept with her.
“Madison’s from Chicago. You grew up there right?” he asks her. He knows personal information about her but he doesn’t seem awkward about it. But then why should he be awkward around us even if he did sleep with her? I’m just his friend/roommate.
“Yeah, I grew up in Hinsdale,” she says with a warmer smile. Hinsdale? She’s rich as shit then, or her parents are at least.
“Oh cool. I grew up in Oak Park,” I tell her and she nods. We both glance back at Alex. Her wondering if he’s going to tell her who I am and me wondering if he’ll end this excruciatingly awkward encounter, or if I should just leave and pretend to know what to do on one of these machines.
“We’re headed their next week actually.” The way he says this is almost like we’re a couple and I’m glad. I ignore how much I like the sound of that. Maybe she’ll take the hint and go gym bunny her way around some other guy.
“Oh, that’s great. I’ll be heading back for the holidays this year too.” She’s now stretching her knee out. Her body is fantastic, and I realize I need to come to the gym more often.
“Are you as much of a gym rat as us?” she asks, and I have to stop myself from scowling. Do these look like the clothes of a gym rat?
“No, not really. Alex sort of dragged me here,” I mumble as politely as I can.
“You want to work out with me? I remember when I first started it was so intimidating but now I’m addicted,” she says with a smile that reminds me of a Barbie doll. I glance over to Alex who gives me an encouraging nod. Ugh no I don’t want to work out with her, I don’t want to work out at all. My plan was to bullshit my way through and just watch Alex lift heavy stuff.
“Sure…” I say reluctantly and the way her eyes twinkle and excitement covers her face, I realize I’ve fucked up.
“Owww!” I wine as Alex carries me into the apartment from the elevator. Audrey went from a cute little fitness doll to a drill sergeant who inflicts pain the moment we left Alex. I wasn’t going to let her show me up in her sexy $300 gym outfit and $200 athletic shoes. I had on real gym clothes, the kind normal people wear, and I caught myself taking a stance. Well now I can barely stand. Alex lays me on the couch, barely hiding his amusement.
“This isn’t funny,” I whine.
“You’re okay, you’re just sore,” he tells me with his arms folded.
“Why did you make me do that? Are you pissed at me about something?” He sits on the couch next to me and chuckles.
“I didn’t torture you, I just took you to a gym. I thought we could both release some frustration in a…uh…healthy way.” His tone drops an octave, his eyes revealing what his words don’t. It’s been four months since I last had sex. I even swore off my vibrator. I wonder how long since it’s been for him. We’ve been living together for a month and he hasn’t brought any girls here but that doesn’t mean anything. He could meet them. He’s been with me every night and weekend he’s not working, but that’s not to say you can’t get the deed done in the daytime or weekdays. Though it makes me realize how much time we’ve spent together.
“I’m going to go run some bathwater for you and while you’re in there I’ll order the food and watch whatever show you want once you’re out.” His mouth is curved into a perfect smile.
“I guess that makes up for it,” I tease him. He does exactly what he promises and the temperature of the bathwater is perfect. Ryan ran baths for me before but he never could get the temperature right. I’m not normal; the water has to be almost scalding or it might as well be lukewarm. I put on a tank top and loose shorts, throw my hair up in a messy bun, and hobble my way next to him on the couch. I see him try to hide a laugh as he watches me.
“This is your fault,” I tell him with a pout.
I’m happy once I’ve had my Chinese food. I get in three episodes of Hell’s Kitchen before his eyes start to glaze over and I give in and tell him we can watch his favorite show, Power.
“Can I get a drink?” I plea after the intro. He gives me a wide fake smile and I giggle. When he’s back with my drink I smile gratefully. It’s deliciously smooth and fruity.
“Where’s yours?”
“I’m not drinking tonight,” he says lifting my legs and putting them on his lap. I wince in response. He looks at me, his brows furrowed together in concern.
“You’re really that sore?” he asks and I nod, playing it up. My thighs feel like a giant sat on them, but it could be worse.
“She worked you that hard?” he laughs and I nod again.
“It’s not funny. She did it because she thought I was your girlfriend and punished me for nabbing you up,” I say and he rolls his eyes as if I’m being ridiculous.
“It’s true,” I tell him lightly. He gently moves my legs off him and disappears towards the bathroom. When he comes back he has a bottle of oil in his hand.
“I’ll give you a massage to make up for it,” he relents. I narrow my eyes in on him, the massages I’ve had in the past lasted five minutes before whoever was giving one tried to stick their dick in me. But then I remember Alex isn’t my boyfriend and there isn’t a possibility of that happening, and I kind of feel sad about it.
He sits back down and pulls my legs back on his solid thighs and begins to push his fingers into my feet. It feels so good; my body instantly relaxes. He takes his time and then makes his way up my leg. I’m tingling everywhere and I bite my lip to avoid moaning. I sink into the couch as his hands start to knead my thighs. His hand travels further up and a whimper slips out of my mouth.
“Want me to keep going?” he asks. His stare is heated and I melt under his gaze.
“Yes,” I say through a whisper. His hands move further up and he pulls me where my lower back is on his lap and I can feel him harden under me but he keeps his eyes ahead of him glued to the TV. I close my eyes as one of his hands makes its way under my shorts and I stop breathing as his finger grazes against the material of my underwear. My heart is beating so fast and when I feel his skin touch me I whimper. His thumb moves over the most sensitive part of me gently, almost a shadow of a touch, and when he presses into it I can’t help but whimper, and then another slides past the thin material and goes inside of me and my body arches for him. My heart is pounding, my body on fire as he goes deeper, arching his fingers to find my g-spot. I’m panting now, so close to flying over the edge I’m about to spill over, I feel his arousal twitch under me but his face gives nothing away.
“I’m-I’m about to come,” I can’t help but confess, and he looks down on me with a satisfied grin on his face as I fall over the edge, my body shuttering as I come down. He slides his hand out of my underwear and I catch my breath.
My body is alive, every cell in me vibrating. I want more. He pulls my shorts and panties off of me. I sit up and throw my leg across his lap and pull his face into my hands and kiss him hard as I grind down on his dick. He moans, gripping my ass. I want him so bad. I reach my hand in his sweatpants and my fingers grip him and he’s long, how I imagined, but so much thicker. I play with it in my hand trying to decide if I want him in my mouth or inside of me and he grips my waist.
“I’m not going t
o fuck you,” he tells me and I look at him confused.
“What?” I ask breathlessly, desperately.
“Not until you’re mine,” he tells mine.
“Tell me this is mine,” he demands, and I hesitate. His eyes are full of lust and need.
“I can’t,” I say looking away from him.
“Yes you can,” he says grinding against me.
“I can’t,” I tell him again. His expression hardens but he grins. He holds my waist and slides his body beneath me, and I’m straddled across his face. He’s taken me in his mouth, and I can’t breathe. He’s attacking my clit, devouring me, drinking me in, and I can’t control my moans. His mouth, tongue, and fingers are a conductor playing my body like an orchestra.
I’m about to come. It’s never happened this fast and I can’t breathe. My body goes stiff and I let out a sound I’ve never heard before as a tear leaves my eye. He lifts me off his face and I can hear him stand up behind me, I’m still coming down in waves, his hard body pressed against me, and he brings his cheek to my ear.
“Next time then,” he whispers, leaving a soft kiss on my cheek. What the hell?! I’m left on the couch alone, his TV show playing in the background, my body reeling from one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. And I’ve never felt so alone and incomplete.
I want more than this, not to just get off…I want him. I stand up and head into his room. He’s already in bed with the lights off, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He looks at me but doesn’t say anything. I walk over to him and climb on top of him.
“I want you. I’m yours.” His eyes light up before our lips clash, his mouth devouring mine. He rolls on top of me, his body hard and warm against mine, then he kisses me softly. His hands tenderly and slowly explore my body. His eyes savor me as if he’s been waiting on this day forever. By the time he slides inside of me my body stretches for his size; I’m already melting around him. I close my eyes.
“Open your eyes,” he whispers in my ear, and I obey him. As he thrusts into me, I hold onto him as he goes deeper inside of me, his stroke slow and deep, each one better than the last, our eyes on each other’s the entire time. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced and soon it’s happening—my body building to a perfect crescendo. He kisses me, I cry out into his mouth, but he’s still going even harder and I can feel his body tensing as I’m trembling uncontrollably. But it’s happening again, another coming on so strong and I make a sound that could break glass. I feel lightheaded…intoxicated…I’m not in control anymore. Alex is, and he owns me.
Fifteen
I can’t remember the last time I woke up naked, my body exhausted, but with the biggest smile on my face I’ve ever had. I’m satisfied completely, physically; mentally my spirit is soaring and levitating happily somewhere.
“Good morning,” Alex says sitting in the window looking like he was sculpted for my own personal pleasure.
“Good morning,” I say not able to fight the smile on my face. My cheeks are hot and I feel light.
“Come here,” he tells me with a butterfly-inducing smile. I stand up and walk over to him. He kisses my neck before nuzzling his face in it. His arms snake around my waist and he holds me as if he’s afraid to let go. I run my fingers through his hair while he looks up at me, his eyes beyond beautiful in this light. I give him a quick peck on the lips since I’m not sure how my breath smells.
“I want a real kiss,” he drawls puckering his lips together and I dodge him until he gives me kisses all over my face.
“Fine, go brush your teeth!” I scurry off but not before he slaps my ass. He joins me in the bathroom. His stare makes me feel like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.
“What?” I ask him amused.
“What do I look like?” he asks unable to contain his smile.
“Like you just won a prize or something.”
“I guess that says it all then huh?” he stands behind me and whispers in my ear with his signature smirk.
“But get over yourself.” His voice is low and husky. I finish rinsing my mouth and grab a towel to wipe my mouth and I can feel him, ready and hard for me. It makes me instantly wet and before I can glance behind me he’s inside of me. I grip the sink to hold my balance but he has me, a strong arm around my waist, the other cupping my breast as he makes slow, deep strokes into me.
“I can’t believe you made me wait this long for this,” he says, his hand sliding down my stomach, fingers gripping my pulsating clit.
I can’t either.
Our plane ride is short but we’re exhausted. We had to leave by eleven to get to the airport and after having sex three times paired with the workout from last night, my body is thankful for the rest even though it’s on a cramped seat in an airplane, wrapped up in Alex’s arms. Even with his mild snore it makes it all worth it. We only have another hour before we’re back in my city, my home, one I haven’t been anxious to get back to but that I miss, one I can’t see myself away from permanently. I peer over at Alex. It’s scary how being with him can also feel like home. I try to think of the last time I had this feeling. With Jackson I didn’t feel safe. I was excited, and desired, but not this. With Ryan it felt comfortable, but not this. Now I have everything and in such a short amount of time as well: the lust, the friendship, excitement, and knowing that I’m his. That he cares. That one day he could love me. And I want it.
The thought doesn’t completely terrify me like it once did. I snuggle in against him again and grip the edge of his sweatshirt in my hand. He begins to stir and a beautiful smile tugs at his lips.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks me, squeezing my hands in his.
“I was just thinking,” I tell him nonchalantly.
“About…”
“I miss home.” I see the slightest grimace on his face after I say that.
“Yeah, you love your city,” he says, almost reminding himself.
“But I’m starting to rethink what home is,” I tell him, not able to look at him. But when he kisses me on the forehead I can tell he likes my answer.
“I’m glad you’re coming with me.” This time I look back at him and his smile pushes out every nerve and piece of anxiety that tries to ruin this moment for me.
“When you asked me at first, I was shocked,” he says, squeezing me tighter.
“It was too soon?” I ask him feeling embarrassed.
“No, and it makes sense your family wants to know who you’re living with in a whole other city. But you were so strange, wanting all this distance between us, not wanting to show your cards about how you felt, but then you asked me that. You’re a frustrating woman, I tell you that.” He laughs and I pull back and playfully punch him.
“So do you and your sister look alike?” he asks and shrugs.
“I guess. People say we do though I don’t really see it.” I kid; we’ve been mistaken for twins on more than one occasion. I pull out my phone and show him a picture of us—me with a wide smile, my hair in elaborate braids, wearing a tank top and tight jeans. Melissa with a bemused grin, a black thin sweater and slacks, peering over her five hundred dollar frames.
“Ugh, you’re practically twins.” I roll my eyes.
“You get along?”
“Yeah, but she tends to forget she’s my little sister and not my mother,” I say with a half shrug.
“I can’t blame her though. My mom, she sort of checked out after my dad left. I tried to pretend everything was the same, but Mel knew. She wasn’t an optimist like I was back then. My mom is a nurse and when my parents were together she was able to work regular hours at a clinic but when he left we needed more money so she started working at an ER at one of the biggest hospitals in Chicago, which meant we hardly ever saw her. So for a while we had to raise ourselves.
“Melissa was the responsible one. Making sure we ate real food instead of frozen pizzas, nagged me to do my homework instead of talk on the phone with my friends and boys all
day, made sure the house wasn’t a mess. It kind of prevented us from being best friends since she acted like a little adult but I respect the hell out of her and love her so much. However, now that we’re both adults, it seems as if she’s still trying to raise me and that can get super annoying.”
I’ve never talked to a guy like I do with Alex. He asks me things and I don’t cut the truth short, shine it up, or make it seem pretty. Since our first non-date I’ve always felt like I can tell him anything and he wouldn’t look at me any differently. It’s definitely something new for me.
“She sounds amazing, just like you,” he says with a sheepish smile.
“You’re so corny,” I tease him. He takes my hand to his mouth and bites it. I fake an ouch and he gives me a wonderfully sarcastic smile before his expression turns serious again.
“If Melissa took the role of your mom how did that leave you guys?”
“It sort of was weird. My mom was this perfect little housewife before things went south. She made us lunches, read to us, tucked us in…everything that a mom is supposed to do. She was my best friend. But when my dad left…he took a big piece of her heart with him and left us the crumbs. She wasn’t herself. She became a new person: focused, determined. She had to be since she had two girls to raise by herself. I get that, but it was jarring. I didn’t understand it then and I definitely made things harder than it had to be for her but she never holds it against me. Being around her though is hard sometimes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m terrified of becoming her…” I swallow hard and am horrified when I feel tears attempting to spring to my eyes, but that happens when you feel disgusted by your fear. I hear all the time how girls say they don’t want to turn into their mothers and that’s not exactly what I mean. My mom is a great woman. It’s more of going through what she did, experiencing that much pain and having to be transformed from it. I shift in my seat.