by ANDREA SMITH
I turned and looked up. Trey. I put my right arm around his neck, and laced my fingers into his proffered hand. He danced as exquisitely as he looked. I was mesmerized by his closeness as always, laying my head against his chest and closing my eyes, drinking in his closeness, his scent, his 'Trey-ness.'
It was another of those 80’s songs that could be fast-danced slow, or slow-danced a bit faster. I was glad that we were doing the latter because I just wanted to bury myself against him.
Some of the lyrics floated to my consciousness, and I was curious as to why Trey had selected this specific song.
What message was Trey giving me with this song? The lyrics were contradictory in places, just like us. Did he want me to stay? Was it just about staying one night?
And say I will … will what? Oh. . . Oh!
I looked up at him, our eyes met, I got it.
“Happy Birthday, Tylar,” he whispered. “You know that I would’ve found you no matter what, don’t you?”
“I’m not sure of anything anymore, Trey. These past few weeks have been difficult in so many ways. I don’t want things to be so complicated anymore, at least with us.”
He leaned down and kissed me softly, gently as the song was winding down. Thankfully, the band moved right into another song and the dance floor was once again a melee of activity.
“I want to go back to the hotel,” I said. “Will you take me?”
“Of course, I will, baby.”
Gina was right there as we left the dance floor. She had her shit-eating grin still on and handed me my purse.
“I called the limo,” she said. “He’ll be out front in two minutes. Ian and I are going to stick around a little longer. The driver will drop you guys, you know, wherever. . .”
“Thanks, Gina,” I leaned over and hugged her. “Thanks for everything.”
“Goodnight, Gina,” Trey said, smiling at her just a little bit appreciatively.
The limo was waiting as Gina promised by the time we got outside. The chauffeur opened the double doors, and Trey and I slid in on the same side. It felt good that in this instance, I was in control. Trey had no clue where I was staying.
“Grand Hyatt, Buckhead,” I reminded the driver. Trey cocked an amused eyebrow at me.
“Glad to see you don’t scrimp when it comes to lodging in the big city,” he teased
“Actually, it was a birthday gift from Ian and Gina, two nights,” I replied.
“Drink?” I offered.
“Sure, whatever you’re having, Ms. Preston.”
I fixed both of us vodka sonics in the tall frosted glasses in the limo’s wet bar. Trey took his graciously, and held it up.
“To your twenty-first birthday, Tylar, and to the fact that you now can drink legally, easing my conscience. And to your continued success in school and in your work, and hoping that we always remain a part of each other’s life, cheers.”
“Cheers,” I repeated tapping my glass to his.
I settled back with my cocktail, leaning against him as the limo made its way to my hotel. I found Trey’s toast a little puzzling, again, the comment about remaining a part of each other’s lives. What the hell did that mean? I was going to find out.
“Trey,” I asked as he tipped the frosted glass back, taking a drink of his cocktail. “What happened to the blond whore you were with at the bar?”
He immediately choked on his drink, causing him to spit most of it back out against the glass partition separating the driver from us.
“God damn it, Tylar,” he said with apparent exasperation. “Why would you blurt something like that to me just out of the blue like that?"
He grabbed his linen embroidered handkerchief out of his pocket, wiping his dimpled chin. He leaned up and wiped the glass clean on the partition. I had embarrassed his good manners. Good I thought, now answer my damn question.
“I wasn’t with anyone at the club tonight.”
“So you are going to sit there and tell me that there wasn’t a blond seated next to you at the bar tonight?”
“What I am telling you is that the blonde seated next to me at the bar was not with me. In fact, I was there first. She happened to come in later, and took the seat next to me. That’s all there was to it.”
“Really?” I said, “If that is all there was to it, why did you dance with her?”
“She asked me to dance, I did not ask her to dance,” he clarified. “I can’t think that you had an issue with that. It appeared to me as if you were doing some sort of a tribal mating dance with Rodney until you scared him off.”
“You are the one that scared him off,” I said, pointing my finger at him.
He smirked, snatching my finger with his hand and kissing it. I continued undeterred.
“He saw you shooting your daggers at us!”
Trey grinned, pulling me onto his lap.
“You like being able to intimidate those guys, don’t you?” I asked, running my finger along his bottom lip.
“I’d like it much better if I was able to intimidate you, Tylar,” he answered softly, bringing his mouth down on mine.
(Oh my.)
His kiss was passionate; there was urgency to it. I molded my body to him, aware of the effect it was having on him. His right hand was rubbing my back and lower.
“This dress leaves very little to the imagination,” he commented. “You drew quite an audience tonight, Ms. Preston.”
I was only interested in an audience of one. I wanted to see how Trey was going to play it once we got to the hotel. I wasn’t going to have to wait long. The chauffer drove up the circular drive of the hotel, pulling up to the lobby entrance.
“Are you staying with me tonight, Trey? Or do you want the driver to take you to your apartment?"
“You know,” he said, fingering my gold necklace gently, “We could both stay at my apartment tonight if you want.”
I wasn’t going to give in on this one. I wanted him to do it my way for once.
“I want to stay here tonight, Trey; I would like for you to stay with me.”
“How could I possibly refuse you anything,” he said, smiling.
The chauffeur opened the doors for us. Trey got out first, then helped me out. He handed the driver a tip, then guided me up the steps, where the doorman was waiting to open the glass door for us.
The lobby was relative empty and quiet at this time of the morning. It was just after one a.m. We entered the elevator, I pushed for seventh floor. Trey loosened his collar and tie. He was in a suit like he had worked today, but it was Saturday. Perhaps his law firm was that stuffy that they required full suits when working weekends. He seemed distracted as well. Maybe he was just tired. Not too tired I hoped.
The elevator doors opened on the seventh floor, and I located my room, sliding the key card down to unlock. Once inside, Trey gave it the onceover.
“Very nice,” he said, taking me into his arms again.
I pulled him past the living room into the bedroom with the giant king-size bed.
“Look at the view from here, I said, it’s really gorgeous at night isn’t’ it? And there’s an outside terrace off through those glass doors,” I pointed.
“The most beautiful thing here is you,” he said, sweetly, wrapping his arms around me from behind as we both looked out over downtown Atlanta.
“Let’s get ready for bed, okay?” he said softly. I nodded.
“Just give me a few minutes, okay?” I asked.
“Take all the time you need, Tylar.”
I kicked my shoes off, and took my jewelry off. I knew that I was going to need help getting my dress off. I turned to Trey who had clicked the television on with the remote; he was searching for an all music station and found one that played soft classical music. It was very soothing. He looked up at me from his sitting position on the bed.
“Trey, can you please help peel me out of this dress I asked.
He rose up off of the bed, taking my hand.
“Come on
,” he said, “Let’s take this into the bathroom.”
(Oh my!)
The bathroom was huge, with a double shower. The hotel supplied the signature ‘his’ and ‘her’ terrycloth bathrobes. Trey started the water in the marbled double showers, and picked out some scented body wash bottles from the basket. He got clean wash clothes and towels from the brass rack in the corner and laid them on the half wall going into the shower.
He was out of his clothes in less than a minute, except for his boxers. He turned to me and I presented my back to him so that he could unzip my dress. Once unzipped, he slid his hands inside, and lowered my dress so that it slipped to the floor at my feet.
I hadn’t worn a bra with it since it had a built-in shelf bra. All I had on was my silk thong, another item of clothing that Gina insisted I had to wear with a dress as tight as the one I wore. I think Trey was surprised by my thong.
He was still standing behind me, close enough that I could feel his warm breath on my neck. He cupped my breasts with his beautiful, long-fingered hands, and gently massaged them.
(Oh that felt good.)
He hooked his finger in the elastic band of my thong and pulled it down, exposing my butt to his gaze. I stepped out of my thong and turned to face him. His erection was full and strained against his boxer shorts. I boldly hooked my fingers on the waistband of his shorts and tugged them down over his erection past his thighs where they dropped to his feet. He stepped out of them.
His penis was huge. I didn’t want to give off any indication of fear or second thoughts because I knew how sensitive Trey was to my 'history' for lack of a better word. I was going to have him tonight and whatever monsters or memories that still lurked in my subconscious would just have to be satisfied to sit back and watch. It was my turn. I would not allow anything to deprive me of this.
I stood on my toes and kissed Trey, moving my body against his. He took my hand and led me to the shower. We didn’t say anything to each other. Trey lathered up one of the washcloths handing it to me. He wanted me to wash him.
It was sensual and erotic. I started washing his muscular firm body, taking delight in rubbing the wash cloth over his flat firm stomach, narrow hips and tight buttocks. I gently washed his testicles, knowing that this was a very tender area on men. I took his penis in both hands, gently lathering it up with my hands, stroking it up and down until I heard Trey’s sharp intake of breath. I quickly looked up to make sure that I hadn’t hurt him, but it was pure pleasure that I saw on his face.
It was now his turn. He lathered up the other wash cloth and started with my breasts. He soaped up each breast, and then moved the shower head to rinse it, taking his mouth and licking the water droplets from each.
He moved the washcloth lower, careful not to pull on my bellybutton ring, which I think he was beginning to find sexy. He washed between my legs, letting his fingers massage the folds of my sex, and touching my clitoris softly and sensually; no way reminiscent of what my mom’s boyfriend had done.
We rinsed the soap from each other with the hand held shower heads. We rinsed off thoroughly. The bathroom was fairly steamed up by this time; so were we.
Trey toweled me off gently everywhere and I him. We put on our ‘his’ and ‘her’ white terrycloth bathrobes, moving to the bedroom.
I scrambled onto the bed, pulling the covers back, shedding my robe and diving underneath onto the soft, clean sheets. Trey followed suit. Once under the covers, our body warmth quickly made it warm and cozy. We were facing each other and Trey lifted my face to gaze at me.
“Tylar,” he said, quietly but firmly, “I want to make love to you more than anything that I’ve ever wanted. You understand that, right?”
I nodded affirmatively. I hoped I wasn’t about to get a lecture on safe sex or instructions on what I was supposed to do in order to make this a successful coupling. I was thinking that could really kill the mood. I wasn’t prepared at all for what Trey was about to say, at least not in its entirety.
“Before this goes any further, there are some things that you need to know and understand. Up to this point, my reluctance to consummate our relationship for lack of a better term was for the most part, my concern for you. There are still many things to clear up with respect to your nightmares, your past and your recollection of those things. You made a strong point a few weeks back about my fear of taking our
relationship to a sexual level. You accused me of thinking that you were damaged goods, and therefore not worthy or good enough for me. You are so mistaken about that, and I need to clarify this going forward.”
“I don’t want to cause you any more pain, Tylar, physically or psychologically. You are a virgin, and you need to know that there is going to be some pain associated with the first time you are penetrated. My desire is to be as gentle as possible with you, and to bring you pleasure. If at any moment you wish for me to stop, just say the word okay?"
I nodded affirmatively. I felt like I was getting one of those long-winded set of instructions before a mid-term.
I knew that it was important to Trey, and I respected his need to lay his cards on the table so to speak.
“Secondly,” he continued, “If anything we do stirs up any images or memories that in any way upset or frighten you, promise me that you will speak up? There has to be trust between us that you will do that, promise?”
“I promise, Trey.”
“Finally,” he said, “And this part may be the hardest part for you to accept, but it is a deal breaker; once we do this, you are mine, do you understand?”
Actually, no I did not. He could tell that I didn’t.
“What I mean by that is that I won’t tolerate you being with other guys, men, whatever. But I also am not prepared to make any permanent commitment to you, at least not at this point in time.”
I was really in no mood to negotiate this at the moment, but some clarification was in order, so I decided I would do the summation.
“Just to be clear,” I responded, “May I summarize my understanding of what you just said in your last point?”
He nodded, “You may.”
“Okay, once we consummate this relationship, you don’t want me fucking other guys, right?”
“That’s correct,” he answered.
I continued, “And conversely, you aren’t going to be fucking other girls, women, right?”
“Correct,” he answered.
“And at this time, there is no expectation of a mutual long-term commitment by either party, is that also accurate to say?”
“It is,” he responded.
“I’m fine with that counselor, with just one minor addition.”
“And what would that be, Tylar?” he asked in his attorney voice.
“I want an ‘out clause’.” I stated firmly.
He seemed a bit taken aback by this.
“I’m not sure I follow you,” he replied.
“Well, somewhere down the road one or maybe both of us could have cause to meet someone that we might consider to be a potential love interest. Out of mutual respect for the other party, since we are in essence agreeing to a sexually exclusive arrangement for the time being, we each need to have an opt-out clause to address just a situation. At a minimum, it puts the other party on notice that the current arrangement is dissolved, prior to any breach of the current terms.”
I think I was possibly blowing his mind with this one, but I felt it was a legitimate concern that required consensual agreement.
“In other words, Trey, if you should meet someone you have the urge to fuck, fall in love with, or marry, pick up your Blackberry, call, text, email or twitter me, simply advising that you are opting out of the current arrangement. I will show you the same courtesy if I find myself in that same situation, agreed?”
I could tell he didn’t particularly care for the direction the conversation was taking, but too damn bad. He had already sucked the romance out of the moment; I might as well make sure my interest was protected as
well.
“Fine,” he said a bit irritated.
“Good, we’re on the same page it seems.”
I moved over close to him, pressing my body to his. (Hmm, his erection is definitely gone.)
Well, we’d have to see about that. He should’ve just gone with the flow and worked the details out later.
I propped myself up on my elbow, resting my head on my hand. I felt the need to prove to Trey I was not some scared little fragile virgin. His little spiel just now, while meant to reassure me, had pissed me off. I was not going to show it though. That would simply reaffirm whatever hang-ups he had going with respect to women. I’m not the only damaged one here, counselor.
In time I would figure out whom or what had left him so vulnerable. For now, I would make good use of what I had learned consciously or sub-consciously from my whore of a mother.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Trey was lying on his back, with his right arm crooked behind his head. He had been quiet for the last few moments after we had established the terms of our arrangement, which he had been so eager to put on the table. He was a complicated man; there was no doubt about that. But I wanted him and I didn’t care at this moment in time what the terms were.
The lights in the room had been dimmed, creating a romantic and seductive atmosphere. The soft classical music gave the ambience for love-making. I wasn’t sure that was going to be the case tonight. I was pretty sure it was going to more of a fuck-fest. I got the impression Trey was a little out of sorts because his pre-coital discussion had not gone exactly the way he had planned.
I was on my stomach next to him. I took the opportunity to move over and straddle his nakedness with my own. I let the covers slip off of me, and gave him the full view of my upper torso. I leaned forward, placing both of my outstretched arms on either side of him. He was staring at me with an expression that bordered lust and anger. I wasn’t sure what I had done to spark up the anger, but I took full credit for the lust and decided to focus on that emotion. It would be more . . . productive.
I leaned further down, lowering my face to his. I kissed his face, his eyelids, the tip of his gorgeous nose, and his chin. He put his free hand on the back of my head, pulling me down, capturing my lips with his. My breasts were brushing against his naked chest, the nipples taut and erect. Our tongues met with a fury, dancing and exploring each other with a feverish pitch.