Connected

by Kim Karr

  “You like that?” she answers back in her own sexy whisper.

  “Mmmm hmm . . .” I moan again as I continue etching her mouth, searching for more of that taste.

  “We could order some more from room service. Or better yet, chocolate cake.”

  “Whatever you want. As long as I get to taste it on you, I’m in.”

  She turns her head and playfully bites my earlobe while her fingers trace patterns up and down the back of my sweater. I’m so turned on right now, but I need to take a shower. This sweater is itching the shit out of me and has me sweating my balls off.

  Reluctantly pulling away, I give Dahlia a quick kiss. “Order whatever you want. I’m going to jump in the shower. I stink and I don’t want you spending the night having to smell me because I’m having a hard time smelling myself,” I tell her, walking backwards toward the shower.

  Giggling, she throws herself onto the huge bed and hangs one leg off the side. “Go ahead, you’ve kind of killed the mood anyway by using the words stink and smell.”

  “Just keeping it real,” I wink at my beautiful fiancée, lying on the bed where I can’t wait to join her after I clean up. Then I add, “I won’t be long! And Dahlia, I can bring the mood back in two seconds flat.”

  She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Whatever you say, Loverboy.”

  “Care to make a bet?”

  “Actually, I’m going to pass on this bet because I think I just might lose,” she laughs. “Go shower, I need to call Aerie and Serena and check in with them anyway.”

  She sits up and grabs her phone as I turn around.

  Twisting my head back, I see my girl, once again, checking me out from behind. I catch her doing this all the time, and I love it. She’s used to getting caught, so she just shrugs her shoulders and blows me a kiss. I wink at her as she’s dialing her phone, then I hear, “Hey Aerie, it’s me.”

  Turning on the shower, I hear her laughing and giggling with Aerie on the phone, and it makes me smile. I love that sound. I could listen to it all day; it’s like one of my favorite songs.

  The glass walls are starting to fog up as I step inside the steamy shower. The hot water feels great on my muscles after skiing and from bending down to pick Dahlia up off the ground all day. The itching from my sweater is slowly letting up as I soap up my back. Thinking of Dahlia’s face as we stood at the top of that black diamond slope on Pinball Mountain, I can’t help but laugh out loud. She looked slightly petrified, but she was determined to make her way down that mountain on her own and she did, well, most of it anyway.

  Closing my eyes as I rinse the shampoo from my hair, I sense her near me. When I open my eyes I smirk because she’s standing against the sink, arms crossed, just watching me.

  “Hey beautiful girl, whatcha doing?” I ask, wanting her to be standing next to me, not way over there.

  Attempting to lift her tight sweater off she asks, “Mind if I join you?”

  “Hmmm . . . Let me think about that,” I say, and then I quickly dunk my head under the water to rinse the last of the soap before exiting the shower and heading toward her. She has her sweater half way off when I grab her and pick her up, clothes and all, and haul her ass back inside the shower with me.

  “Do you really think you have to ask me a question like that?”

  Her breath is hitched and I know she knows she doesn’t.

  Setting her down under the showerhead, I lean back against the glass wall and watch as the warm water pours down her body, drenching her clothes. She’s giggling, not whining or complaining but actually enjoying this. God, she’s so amazing, so carefree, and so fun. I love everything about her.

  But right now, I’m thinking I’d love to see her sexy body naked. Enough of the giggling. Pointing to her soaking wet sweater that looks like it weighs a ton and her wet pants that are clinging to her long legs, I tell her, “You’ve got too many clothes on for what I have in mind, beautiful girl. Why don’t you take them off?”

  “You want me to take this off?” she asks, pointing to her own clothes.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “I’ll try,” she says, looking at me coyly, purposely taking her time pulling off her sweater. I know she’s trying to tease me.

  “Let me help.” I walk over to her, undo her jeans, and shove them down.

  She wobbles a bit, but I hold her hips tight. She smiles down at me as droplets of water spill down her angelic face.

  Standing up, I push her back against the wall and start to kiss her.

  She pushes me back a little and runs her hands up her own breasts. Then, with the most innocent smile I have ever seen her wear, she asks, “Do you want to take this off, or do you want to fuck me wearing it?”

  Normally I would laugh at her use of the word fuck, but I’m having a hard time controlling myself. I practically growl as I turn her around and undo her bra. Running my hands down her hot body to her panties, I slowly slide them off, feeling every inch of her soft slick skin.

  “Does that answer your question?”

  She reaches around to grab me but I shift to redirect the showerhead. Moving back over toward her, I kiss one of her shoulders and then the other as I reach my hands around to her front and touch her everywhere.

  Turning her around, I press her against the wall. “You were suppose to give me a show,” I tell her, dunking my head down to her hard nipple and sucking on it.

  “I never agreed to any such thing.” She’s panting now, but I know I can get her to give me one anyway.

  “Remember you said massage or anything I choose? My anything is a show.”

  I continue to lick and suck her breasts as her hands slide down my shoulders to my arms.

  “Okay, anything,” she easily concurs, and I can’t help but grin.

  When she starts to moan, I move to the other breast as she braces her hands on my shoulders. When I pull her nipple forcefully with my mouth, she screams out, “River, please!”

  I know what she wants, but I ask anyway, “Please what, Dahlia?”

  “I want you inside me. Now.”

  She’s watching me. I grin at her and suck harder, tugging a little with my teeth as I rub circles around her other nipple.

  “I will be soon, I promise.”

  She has the tiniest, most beautiful breasts, and as I slide my tongue down her stomach her hands come to cup them. I’m torn between watching her and pleasuring her. The thought of either, or both, has me throbbing. Slipping my tongue in and out, I move it faster and then I slip two fingers deep inside. As soon as I do, I watch the pleasure wash over her face and I know she’s coming hard. “Oh God River!” she screams out as I continue to move my fingers until the trembling subsides.

  Standing up, I take a minute to admire her. Her once too-thin body has taken on the most sensual shape. I can’t get enough of her, regardless of her body type, but I know the way she looks right now is because she’s completely happy. I feel like I own her body.

  Grabbing the soap, I start washing her arm. I slide the soap up toward her shoulder and then drop the bar to the ground to run both my hands up and down her soapy limb. As the soap lathers, I move my hands upwards and with my legs, I gently move her back and press her against the glass wall.

  She gasps when I rest one of my legs between her thighs as my hands find her chest, and I gently rub circles around her nipples. The soap makes my fingers slide easily. The water sprays down, and I move the showerhead so just a slight trickle is hitting us.

  Bending down to pick up the soap, I decide to lather her leg. I do the same as I did with her arm. But this time, once I meet the apex of her thigh, I press a little harder and rub smaller circles around her.

  She moans softly and as I look up her eyes flutter shut. I brush my thumb over her and she squirms in a way I know she’s enjoying it.

  “Please, River,” she whispers, her eyes still closed.

  I plunge my fingers deeper then pull them back. I grin as she tries to follow my hand with her
hips.

  “Please River, please!”

  I know she wants me and her asking me for it really turns me on, but I’m not giving in that easily, although I really want to.

  “What Dahlia? Please what?” I tease her, knowing exactly what she’s asking for.

  Moaning a little louder as I continue to plunge my fingers, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, she begs, “Please fuck me now.”

  Kissing her jaw, I can’t help but chuckle at her use of the word fuck. I remember when we first met how cute I thought it was when she would swear, something I always tried not to do in front of her. Now, her saying the word fuck isn’t cute. It’s so hot, and really, all I want to do is fuck her now.

  Sliding my tongue up to her ear I whisper, “I swear I will. I swear I won’t stop until your legs are shaking and every hotel guest on this floor knows my name.”

  I feel a smile form on her mouth. She’s breathing very heavily as she bites my earlobe.

  I press her back further into the wall and replace my fingers with my cock. She instantly responds, trying to wrap her legs around me, to push me further inside her, but I resist and just lightly slide in and out of her.

  I’m torturing myself, but I’m enjoying watching her more. She’s trying to grip the wall, but there is nothing there. I stand still a few moments, drawing out her anticipation, trying to get myself under control as she continues to try to push her body closer to mine.

  I enter her with my tip only, over and over. As she moans, she continues to call out my name. When I see her body start to tremble, she’s screaming my name, “River, please!” I have no willpower left.

  In one swift motion, I grab her and lift her up, pushing her body up against the wall. She responds instantly, wrapping her legs around me as I plunge inside her hard and fast. I have to remember to breathe, she feels so good. I continue to watch her, as her eyes start to roll, and I know she’s so close.

  I want to take it slow and make her come over and over, but I need her too much. I start moving faster, thrusting into her over and over again, each time harder and faster. When I see the look of pleasure come across her face, I know she’s there, again. She screams my name one final time as I hold her hips in place and yell out her name. Leaning in I kiss her hard as sensation overtakes me.

  As our bodies quiver, I swallow her cries of contentment, wanting to taste and feel every inch of her happiness.

  Citizens’ song Amazing Grace startles me awake. It’s playing from Dahlia’s cell phone, her ringtone for Grace. Reaching for her, I realize she’s not in bed.

  “Dahlia, your phone!” I yell, yawning and covering my head with the pillow.

  She doesn’t answer. I call out to her again, but the room is too quiet. Looking around I realize she’s not here.

  Scanning the area to find and silence the fucking phone, I see a note on her pillow. I roll over and grab it.

  I know how tired you are from ‘skiing’ so I thought I’d let you sleep in. Just running the shorter trail then I’ll bring coffee back. I love you more.

  Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I remember she woke me up earlier and wanted to run the lake trails to see the sunrise. I told her to give me a minute, but shit, I must have fallen back asleep.

  Lifting my head off the pillow, I see her phone. I sit up and grab it from the bedside table where it is plugged in. The battery must have died again, so she left it to charge. The song keeps playing, and the message light is blinking ten missed calls. The time reads 6:14am.

  Scratching my chest, I decide to answer it. “Hello,” I mumble into the phone as I balance it on my shoulder and situate myself on the bed.

  I’m surprised to hear Serena’s voice instead of Grace’s. “River?” she asks and then she’s oddly silent.

  I flop my head back on the pillow and stretch out. “Serena? What’s . . .” I start to say when she interrupts, “I need to talk to Dahlia.” Her voice is a little off, and she sounds sad or nervous, I’m not sure which.

  Taking the phone in my hand, I sit back up immediately. “Serena she’s not here. She went running. Is everything okay? Is it Grace?” I have to ask, but pray it’s not.

  “River you need to find her. We need to talk to her now.” Her tone is urgent, and I have to know what’s going on.

  With concern clear in my voice, I ask, “Serena, what’s going on? What’s the matter?”

  Her voice is muffled through the phone for a few seconds, and I can’t really hear what she’s saying when Grace gets on the phone.

  “River, we’ve called the police,” she tells me, her voice quivering as she speaks.

  “Grace, I’m lost. What do you need the police for?”

  “Didn’t she tell you?”

  My heart is racing, and I really just want her tell me what the fuck she’s talking about. “Grace, what are you talking about? What’s going on?”

  “I left Dahlia three messages last night. They let him out on a technicality.”

  “Grace, who did they let out?”

  “The man who shot Ben. He’s out,” she’s telling me this and I’m trying to process what’s going on.

  I look at Dahlia’s phone and hit the home button. I see three messages from Grace that haven’t been listened to, and fifteen missed calls from Grace and Serena.

  “Grace, she hasn’t listened to your messages yet.”

  She’s crying and I think she is unable to speak but she manages, “Hold on.”

  Caleb gets on the phone. “Hey man. Where is she? I’m not sure what’s going on but we need to keep an eye on her.”

  I’m trying not to get annoyed at this prick and his use of the word ‘we’ as I answer, “She went running. What the fuck is going on?”

  I can hear him inhale a deep breath, “Look man, I think the guy that shot Ben is looking for something. I drove by Dahlia’s house last night just to check on it, and someone broke in again. I drove over to your house looking for her, but they wouldn’t let me in the gate and neither of you answered their calls. I called your sister and she gave me your number. I called you all fucking night.”

  I bolt out of bed and look frantically around for my pants. Running to the bathroom, I find them on the floor. I pull them on and find my phone still in the pocket. My hands are trembling. “Caleb, I’ll call you back when I find her,” I tell him and hang up.

  Calling hotel security, I hastily explain the situation. Whether it’s necessary or not to send someone to find her, I have no fucking idea, but I want her found now.

  Just as I throw on my shirt and sneakers and head for the door, the hotel phone rings. I’m torn between answering it and running out to find her but since I did call security, I turn around and go back. I silently pick the phone up.

  “Mr. Wilde?”

  “Yes,” I answer with concern clearly in my voice.

  “Sir, we’d like you to come down to the lobby and we’ll escort you to the hospital.”

  I swallow a few times trying to catch my breath as all the air leaves my lungs, and my knees buckle beneath me. As I’m searching for the courage to ask the question I already know the answer to, I hear the ambulance sirens in the distance and I don’t need to ask anything.

  Wiping a tear from the corner of my eye, I bolt out of the room and take the ten flights of stairs down to the lobby where security is waiting for me. I can hardly think, but I know I can’t lose her. I can’t lose my best friend, my soul mate, my smile, my laugh—my everything.

  They say she’s already on her way to the hospital in the ambulance. I want them to take me to see her now. No one knows what happened, just that someone heard screaming and called security. This car ride feels like the longest fifteen-mile drive of my life. My phone keeps ringing, but I can’t answer it. I just have to see her, my beautiful, perfect girl. I need to know she’s okay.

  I slide open the photos I have of her. Some are serious, some are funny, some are quirky, and some are downright hot. All of them a reflection of her beautiful fac
e, and the tears I’ve been holding back start to flow like the unease I feel about my inability to keep her safe.

  Absorbed in my thoughts and the quiet of the car, I can barely even hear my own breathing. The heat is blasting and even though I’m not wearing a coat, I’m sweating. The security chief is talking to me, but I’m not listening until I realize he’s telling me we’re at the hospital. Rushing through the emergency room doors, I make my way through a very packed waiting room toward the small glass window at the reception desk. As I get closer I think I see Dahlia back behind it, but once I’m there, I realize it’s only wishful thinking.

  Holding myself up against the counter, I feel slightly queasy. My nerves are getting the best of me. My heart is pounding a thousand beats a minute, my stomach is in knots, and the chill running through my body is making the shivering painful.

  “Can I help you, sir?”

  Putting aside any preamble of a greeting, I blurt out what I need from her. “My fiancée was just brought in and I need to see her now!” I’m raising my voice at this nurse and getting looks from others waiting behind me, but I don’t give a shit. I’m desperate to find my girl.

  Her standard reply throws me into a tailspin. “Sir, are you family? Only family members are allowed back,” she says, handing me a form to fill out that reads: Non-Family Member Patient Inquiry.

  I’m trying to keep my patience but losing the battle as I take the clipboard from her and repeat, “I told you, we’re engaged.”

  She looks up at me with an expression that says she’s heard this before. “Sir, like I said, access is for the patient’s family only. Please fill that out, and have a seat. We’ll inform you of her condition once we get her permission.”

  “She has no fucking family! I am her family!” I frantically yell through the window.

  Taking a deep breath, I pull myself together. I complete the form and hand it back to her. I stand there trying to figure out what to do when I see the doors to the emergency room corridor open, and a patient is being wheeled out with her leg in a cast.