by Kim Karr
In a low tone I answer, “I’m sorry. I’m calling you back now.”
“Dahlia, where are you? Why are you talking so low?”
“I’m in Las Vegas. You know that.”
“No. Where are you right now?”
Knowing it’s easier to just tell her, I whisper, “In his suite.”
“River’s?! You are? Really! And?”
“Umm . . . Well it’s kind of a long story and I will tell you later but,” I say, trying to choose my words carefully. Then I just blurt out the rest. “We went out to dinner and then I spent the night with him.”
In a cautious tone, she says, “Are you telling me you had sex with River Wilde?”
“Yes Aerie, that is what I’m telling you.”
“You’re shitting me,” she says, her voice full of skepticism.
“No I’m not. What? Is it that hard for you to believe he’d be interested in me?”
“Of course not Dahlia. Men are always interested in you. It’s you I’m surprised about. You’re not exactly a Miss One-night Stand. Were you drunk?”
“No Aerie. Can we talk about this later please? Like I said it’s a long story.”
“Well at least tell me how it was? Was it good?”
“Aerie I’m hanging up now.”
“No, Dahlia wait. Are you okay?”
“Aerie I had sex, not surgery. Of course I’m okay.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. We both know you had a crush on him. I just want to make sure you’re in the right frame of mind. Having sex with someone is one thing, but having sex with someone you already know gets around is another.”
“Aerie how do you know he gets around? And anyway it was one night. We’ll say goodbye, and I’ll never see him again I’m sure.” I decide not to tell her I haven’t even done the interview yet.
“Okay Dahlia girl I get it. And I don’t know he gets around, I’ve just heard he doesn’t keep a girlfriend for long.”
“Aerie I’m fine, and I’m hanging up now. I’ll call you later. Goodbye.”
“Bye Dahlia, and don’t forget to call me this time.”
I hang up the phone and ponder Aerie’s comments a moment before glancing over to the open sliding glass door where the sun is starting to rise. Pink and purple waves of color paint the horizon over the mountains and I really want to see the beauty of this new day, so I decide to get my toiletry bag later.
My pulse quickens as I see him sitting in a chair, wearing only his jeans; his leg over one knee. Walking toward him, I see a pot of coffee and croissants sitting on the table beside him. He grins at me and pours two cups of coffee. “Cream and sugar?”
Standing at the door, watching him, and smiling larger than life I say, “Cream only, kind sir,” and then with my hand on my hip I continue, “And I’m so glad you’re a coffee-drinking kind of man, now that I know, I can stop stalking you.”
He winks at me while pouring cream into one of the cups and he quips, “Oddly enough, a sexy woman with stalking tendencies doesn’t seem to bother me.”
Crossing my arms and leaning a hip against the doorframe, I can’t help but laugh. “I just bet.”
He smirks and says, “And here I thought you’d be a cream and sugar kind of girl with all your sweetness in the morning.”
I move my hands to my hips and say, “What, I’m not sweet enough already?” Then throwing caution to the wind, feeling so comfortable with him, experiencing not an ounce of unease or pretense, I stroll over to him as he motions me to sit on his lap.
The early dawn turns into a hazy morning, light streams from the beautiful yellow glow to my east. I sit on his lap with my knees bent and feet resting on his knee. We drink our coffee as he feeds me pieces of a croissant since one of my hands is glued to my morning coffee and the other is wrapped around his neck.
We continue to kiss and talk even after the sun has fully risen. Dazzling beams of sunlight reflect in his tousled hair and it takes on a multitude of shades from blonde to brown. I look at this incredibly attractive man in awe. He catches my gaze and kisses me a little longer and a little deeper. His touches also become more intimate. I try to calm the overwhelming feeling of desire creeping throughout my body. As his fingers drift up my leg, I suddenly become fully aware that I’m pantiless. I grab his hand and say, “Come on, we have to do the interview,” then pull him through the door heading toward the living room.
Stopping in the bedroom, he grins and nods toward the bed. “You can interview me while we lay in bed.”
Looking at his gorgeous smiling face, his smooth chest, well-defined abdominal muscles, and gleaming green eyes now ablaze, I know I should say no, resist the temptation, but I can’t, so I shake my finger at him in warning. “Okay, but you better behave, I need to finish this interview.”
Walking into the living room to get my small portable notebook, I hear him mutter, “I promise nothing.”
I can’t help but smile at his remark as I reach for my things. I’m in awe of how his charming smile makes me smile. Before going back to the bedroom, I walk over to the kitchen counter, press play on the docking station, and hit the room change button directing the music to the bedroom. Immediately, I hear the band Fuel singing I Should Have Told You. I love this song.
When I walk into the bedroom, I see River lying on his side, leaning on an elbow that is propped on the pillow. His head resting on his hand, his other arm is slung loosely over his hip. His legs are slightly bent with one propped up, and he’s watching me intently. He is so hot. He starts to anxiously bite his thumbnail and I can’t look at this complete vision of perfection any longer, so I avert my eyes. I know I won’t be able to concentrate if I’m too close to him; I decide to sit at the foot of the bed.
Taking my portable notebook out of my bag, I turn it on and pull up the list of questions we started on yesterday. He takes the thumb he was just biting and starts rubbing circles up my legs. His still moist touch sends shivers up my spine. I can’t even think about focusing on my list of questions.
“Behave,” I admonish as I glance at him from my computer screen. Putting my hand over his wandering one, and in a more playful tone, I say, “Sound Music paid me to come to Las Vegas and do an interview, not do you, not to have a one-night stand and get on the plane empty-handed.” I say the last few words in a much more teasing tone to help lessen the blow of the truth in the reality.
Removing his hand from my hold, he quickly sits up and he grabs the notebook from my lap, placing it on the floor. Wrapping his fingers around my wrists he pulls me right up to him, face-to-face, eye-to-eye. He slides his nose across my cheek to my ear, and with a low, quiet, but almost harsh tone says, “Dahlia this is, was, in no way a one-night stand on my part. Is it to you? Because if so, I totally misread this, you, us.” As he says this, he continues resting his cheek and his lips against the side of my head.
His words momentarily take my breath away as emotions surge everywhere, in my mind, throughout my body, and within my soul. I’m not sure what to say or what to do, but I feel strangely at peace. So tugging my arms from his grip, I grab his face and look into his eyes, knowing I can make this better, that I can take the sting out of my words. Words only thought, only spoken, to protect myself, to guard myself from what I thought was only a night of casual sex.
With my heart beating faster than the music playing, I respond with only fragmented thoughts. “I’m sorry, I just thought… No not a one-night stand on my part. I wasn’t sure…” Then sitting up straighter, gently sweeping the hair from his eyes, I point between him and me. “I just thought you did this kind of thing all the time.”
A frown appears on his face. He shakes his head no as Coldplay’s song Yellow starts to play throughout the room.
Hovering his lips over mine, he lightly brushes them across each corner of my mouth. “No I don’t do this all the time,” he says while gliding his lips to my neck. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever spent the night in a hotel room with a g
irl and shared breakfast with her the next morning,” he continues as his lips start to make their descent. “And I’m glad we feel the same way,” he finally whispers before pausing his kisses and directing his gaze at me. Then with a huge grin, he finishes the conversation. “So now is it okay if I misbehave?”
Placing both my hands on his strong jaw, it’s my turn to rest my head on his, and in an effort to right my wrong, I say, “You know every time you move your nose to my ear like that, it drives me crazy.”
Pulling back, softly gripping my arms with his hands, he nods and a slight grin appears, a smirk really, and he says, “Yeah, I know that.”
LIVING FOR THE FIRST TIME
As our bodies move across the bed
We look out the window into the brightness
The doubts that clouded my head are gone
They have all faded away
And I’m living for the first time in a long time.
The throbbing pulse that travels through my body every time he kisses me continues to increase as his kisses turn into more, and his lips meet my most sensitive spots. Every time he touches me, he makes my breath quicken, my heart beat faster, and my temperature rise. Never have I felt like this before.
We didn’t finish the interview. My plane departure time came and went. We fell asleep sometime in the late morning. After more amazing, can’t-get-enough sex, River asked me to stay the weekend with him, and without any doubts, I agreed. How could I not? I feel alive again—living, breathing, and experiencing life like I never had before—because of him. He took me to places within my body and my soul I’ve never been, and I wanted to discover more.
Something happened within me when he asked if I considered our night just passing casual sex, because he clearly didn’t. The sorrow, grief, and sheer loneliness I was carrying with me for almost two years passed much quicker than seasons change. I feel a sense of new beginnings, hope sprung alive. It’s as if I’m heading into spring, and winter is finally fading behind me. My mind begins to see the leaves turning green; no longer are they brown and lying lifeless on the barren ground. I can hear the chirping of the birds, they are no longer flying south, and as the harsh cold winds of the Santa Ana morph into gentle cool breezes, I can say I’m alive once again.
Hearing the music change from Glory Box to Tell Me I’m A Wreck as I wake, I glance to look at the clock; it’s almost noon. Lifting my head from its very comfortable position, I look up and see River. He’s awake and grinning at me. His hair is a mess, but still so sexy, and my stomach flip-flops from his sheer raw attractiveness. He nods his head toward the nightstand. “Your phone is vibrating over there,” he says in an almost wicked way as his gleaming eyes divert back to mine and then down the bed.
Smiling, I lay my head back down and snuggle into his chest. I glance up at him, sighing and nodding my head, wondering how it is he can take an ordinary sentence and turn it into something sensual, almost erotic. I mumble, “Yeah, it’s probably Serena, I really should call her back and check on her son. He was sick before I left.”
Shaking his head, he sits up and pulls the sheet from our naked bodies as he leans over and softly kisses my stomach, gliding his hand all the way up my chest with his fingertips as he stands. Reaching for my phone and handing it to me he say, “Text her fast, you can call her later.”
I sit up and sneak a quick peek at his bare ass as he walks toward the end of the bed. It is perfect, and I just smirk at him. I can’t help myself. Sliding the unlock bar on my phone, I send Serena a quick text.
Sorry I haven’t called. Been busy. How’s Trent? Let me know. Kiss him for me. :-* <3 :)
I finish, adding a virtual kiss, a heart, and a smiley face to the end of my text and press send.
Having pulled on his boxers, River walks back over to me and takes the phone. He sets it back on the nightstand. Gesturing toward the bathroom, he says, “Come with me.”
I snatch his shirt from the floor and shrug into it, leaving it unbuttoned.
Cocking his head he watches me, his eyes scanning my body. Goosebumps emerge everywhere. Taking his extended hand, he leads me into the large spacious bathroom. The floor is black marble with his and her sinks to the right and a large open glass shower to the left with a huge Jacuzzi tub in the center. I immediately head to use the restroom, which is in its own separate room next to the sinks.
While in there, I hear River softly humming a song. I can’t quite make it out over the sound of the water flowing from the sink. When I open the door, I stop and observe. He’s singing and shaving like the two were always meant to be done together, like hugs and kisses or rock and roll. He doesn’t notice me standing there as he abandons his singing and starts brushing his teeth. Gazing at him, I can’t help but think again about how attractive he is, and I laugh out loud at the thought of using that same toothbrush this morning.
I walk over to him and lean against the counter. I cross my arms and bite my bottom lip as I stand next to him, grinning.
Turning his head, while bending over the sink, he pulls the toothbrush from his mouth. “What’s so funny?” he manages through a mouth full of foaming toothpaste.
Giggling uncontrollably now, I manage to answer, “I sort of used your toothbrush this morning, hope you don’t mind.”
A devilish grin appears on his face, his eyes narrowing as he sets his toothbrush on the counter while the water continues to run. “Oh, yeah. Then you shouldn’t mind this.”
Before I can move away, his arms encircle my waist and reach down to my backside. He lifts me up as his lips crash into mine, and he sets me on the counter. His tongue jets back and forth over my top teeth, then he does the same over my bottom teeth before his tongue finds the roof of my mouth. Desire flows through me as easily as the water streams from the faucet trickling into the sink.
Shifting his taut body slightly, he spreads my legs further apart and presses into my core. He moves his mouth to suck my bottom lip before he starts kissing me hard and wildly. True undaunted yearning cascades through my body as fast as the water ripples around the basin and down the drain. The toothpaste is now dripping from both our mouths as the water continues to fill the sink, but neither of us cares.
Finally, I nudge him in the shoulder and he steps back. “Hey. That’s not playing fair. I didn’t say I wanted you to brush my teeth. I . . .” but I don’t get a chance to finish. As his eyes flicker to my lips and down my open shirt, his breathing labors as his lips part and he bows his head forward. The tip of his tongue finds the small swell of my breast where some toothpaste has dripped and as he starts slowly dragging his tongue up my chest, an unstoppable moan escapes my mouth.
As his lips slowly and seductively slide from my chest to my neck, I wipe the toothpaste from my mouth with the back of my hand and try to stop panting as my body heat rises from his touch. When he looks up at me, his eyes are full of passion. Licking the edge of his bottom lip, he propels his hard body back into mine, but this time I wrap my legs around him instead of pushing him back, welcoming the feel of his soft skin against mine.
With a quick intake of breath and toothpaste still dripping down his chin, he says, “What were you saying?”
Moving toward him, I slide my tongue up his chin, licking all the toothpaste off before wielding a simple, “Nothing.”
With his taut body crushed to mine, he reaches and turns the water off. The only sound that can be heard in the room now is our increasingly heavy breathing.
“Actually,” I moan as my lips drift down his cleanly shaven chin. “I was wondering.” I pause to inhale deeply as my hands slip into the waistband of his silky black boxer shorts, “Why haven’t you sang for me yet today?” I barely get my words out between trying to catch my breath and shoving my hands down his boxers to grab him.
With a sharp intake of breath, he pulls me forward, my behind barely resting on the counter. My hands fall from his hardness and he exhales deeply as he rocks his hips into mine, his hands travel down my spine, pushing
me even closer. Crying out, I scratch my nails down his back before arching so I can grind my hips further into his.
As his hands travel around my waist and rest on my lower back, he takes a step back. He stares at me with desire clear in his eyes, the same eyes I used to be afraid I would jump into and never get out of, but now so happy that I did take the leap.
“You want me to sing something for you?”
Nodding my head, I feel his hands travel right to my sex. He slides them between my legs and trails his fingers up and down my inner thighs, teasing me, almost torturing me. “Let me turn the music on,” he breathes out. But he doesn’t leave the room, he doesn’t leave me, instead he glides his hands around my hips and lifts me off the counter, carrying me to the shower, pushing me up against the wall. He turns the water on before setting me down and I get the feeling the water is our music.
He grins and asks, “What do you want me to sing?”
“Anything by Maroon 5 of course.”
Showering with River is intimate, very sexy, —almost carnal. As he lathers the soap all over my body, he sings She Will Be Loved. And even though he frowned when I answered Maroon 5 to his question, he sings it anyway. I reward him generously when he sings, “It’s not always rainbows and butterflies it’s comprise that moves us along.” My favorite line in the song.
When he finishes, he whispers seductively into my ear paraphrasing the same words he spoke last night but also divulging his sexual desires. He tells me how much he wants to taste me everywhere, describing what he wants to do to me with his body. Feeling unabashed and very comfortable, completely connected in this man’s arms, I detail what I want to do to him, with him, freely, with no walls and no barriers between us.
My brain feels as if it’s in overdrive, but my body is invigorated as he steers me down the road I so desperately want to be on. With every shift of gear, my body quickens over and over again. I feel like a car accelerating too fast, and my body is driving into oblivion. God this man is . . . is . . . I can’t even think as he slowly moves his hands up and down my sides, reaching behind me, lifting me and backing me up against the shower wall.