The Upside of Falling

by Meghan Quinn

  I scan my room, looking at everything I have scattered around. Hopping out of bed, I scurry around my room, stuffing my book away and trying to hide Dad’s tools. My heart’s in my throat, a lump so large I’m having a hard time breathing.

  Footsteps sound closer. Panic paralyzes me. My hands shake, my inability to hide everything fast enough scaring me. There is no way I’ll be able to hide the plane I’ve been working on before he gets here.

  Tears prick the backs of my eyes as the door to my bedroom swings open, slamming into my wall, denting the plaster.

  “Where the fuck is my wallet?” Ted yells. “Did you take it?”

  “What? No.” I shake my head. “I have no idea where it is.”

  He steps forward. “I’m trying to take your mother out to get her mind off this day, and I just can’t find it. Seems coincidental, don’t you think, since your mom got yelled at by your grandpa today? Did you hide it to get back at her?”

  I shake my head, trying to speak past the lump in my throat. Please don’t see my plane. Please don’t see my plane. “No, sir. I didn’t take it. Want me to help you look for it?” I step forward to help him just as he cocks his arm back. I flinch waiting for the blow . . . but it doesn’t come.

  Looking at him, his gaze is focused at my window, where you can see one side of the Eaglet model plane my dad got me. I’ve been putting new colors on it to give it a fresh look.

  “What the fuck is that?”

  “Th-that’s my plane Dad got me a few years ago.”

  “How come I’ve never seen it?”

  Stuttering, working my way backward to protect it, I say, “I put it away. I know you don’t like clutter.”

  “Why is it out now?”

  I twist my hands together. “I thought since you and Mom were gone, and it’s my birthday, that maybe I could work on it.”

  Ted shakes his head, walking toward it. “You didn’t get permission to work on this piece of crap. You need to ask for permission, Colby. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

  “I . . . I . . .” He puts his hand on the plane, my heart lurching in my chest. “Please don’t hurt it, Ted.” A tear slips down my cheek, but I swipe it away quickly.

  “Don’t hurt your plane?” A maniacal smirk crosses over his face. “But you disobeyed me, don’t you think you need to be punished for that?”

  “It’s my birthday,” I say, praying for some kind of reprieve from this tyrant. I hate this man. I want my dad back.

  “That means shit to me. Your mom told me I can’t hit you anymore, so maybe I’ll take it out on your planes.”

  I step forward, desperation in my voice. “Hit me. I don’t care. Hit me all you want. Please just don’t touch my plane. It’s from Dad, Ted. Please.”

  He nods, and for a second I think he’ll listen to me. Until he picks up the wing of the plane and splits it in half over his knee, tossing the two pieces in front of me, the torn and splintered balsa wood falling to the floor . . . my heart with it.

  “Happy Birthday.” With that, he slams my door just as Mom yells down the hall.

  “Found your wallet, Ted. It was in your jacket.”

  I crumple to the floor and hold the wing to my chest, tears falling from my eyes.

  My plane.

  Broken.

  Unable to breathe, I lie on the floor, clutching the plane, tears clouding my eyes. I want to escape, to never have to live this day again. My birthday. The day my dad died, and the day Ted took away the one thing that reminded me of the good times with my dad.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  COLBY

  Propped up in bed, two pillows between my back and the headboard, I hold my book in front of me. I didn’t bother to get dressed for the day after my shower besides a pair of boxer briefs, to be respectful of the fact I’m in someone else’s house.

  The sun is shining through the white curtains covering the French doors of the pool house, granting me privacy and sunlight at the same time.

  An empty protein bar wrapper is next to me with a bottle of water.

  Simple.

  Just the way I like it.

  The book I read every year on my birthday—for I don’t know how long—is tattered on the ends, well worn, but by no means ready to fall apart. It still has plenty more birthdays left in it.

  Knock, knock.

  Confused, I look to the door. Stryder knows my routine. He knows I don’t celebrate this day, so why is he bothering me . . . and why is he knocking?

  “Come in,” I call out, not bothering to get up. I turn back to my book.

  The door parts open and the minute her scent hits me, my eyes shoot up to find Rory standing in the pool house, bag at her side, wearing black leggings, a matching black long-sleeved shirt, her hair curled and . . . red lipstick painted across her lips.

  “Rory?” I sit up and set my book to the side. “What are you doing here?”

  Shutting the door and setting her bag down on the floor, she smiles at me, walking toward the bed. I've never seen anything so beautiful. I needed this. Her. “I came to wish you a happy birthday.”

  Climbing into bed with me, she pushes me back against the pillows, and sits on my lap. I place my hands on her hips, fucking happy to see her. “You didn’t have to come here.” I stroke her cheek. “I don’t celebrate my birthday. I lie low on this day.”

  “Stryder told me the same thing, and we don’t have to celebrate if you don’t want to, but I don’t want you to be alone. I have the whole day off, and I want to be with you.”

  I search her eyes, kind and loving, and I can feel myself slipping, falling for this girl. I didn’t know how much I wanted her until she showed up, and now I don’t want her to leave. Because even though it’s my tradition to be by myself, Rory is different. I crave her presence, right here in my bed, snuggled up next to me.

  “Is this okay?” she asks, looking nervous.

  I run the pad of my thumb over her lip, the red lipstick staying put. “This is perfect. Thank you. You’re the best birthday present I’ve ever had.”

  Smiling brightly, she wiggles on top of me, waking my dick. Scanning my body, she looks me up and down, her eyes lingering on my abs. “You’re even more handsome in person.” Her hands travel down my chest along with her body.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, watching how she grabs the sheets around my waist and pulls them down, revealing the obvious bulge in my boxer briefs.

  “Starting this birthday off right with one of your fantasies.” Getting up from the bed, she snags the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head, tossing it to the side. She does the same with her pants, leaving her in matching red lingerie. Unlike the thong she wore last night, today she’s wearing a see-through G-string covered in a flower. And it reveals a lot. Her bra, fuck, the damn thing is see-through besides a few strategically placed flowers over her nipples.

  So. Fucking. Gorgeous. As she climbs onto the bed, my dick grows hard and thick with each move she makes toward me. My aroused state starts to blur my vision, everything around us fading to black as I focus on Rory and Rory alone.

  She gently runs her hands up my thighs until she reaches the waistband of my boxer briefs. My cock is so fucking hard, begging to be touched. Licking those luscious red lips, Rory takes no time in stripping me down, revealing my length, her hair tickling my thighs as she takes me all in, her eyes wide, yet satisfied.

  “You’re huge, Colby.” She looks up at me, pure lust flowing through her. With eyes locked on mine, she reaches out and then holds my cock in her hand. A hiss escapes past my lips, the feeling of her hand wrapped around me so incredible.

  It’s been a good amount of time since I’ve been intimate with anyone, so I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to be touched, to have a woman between my legs. But fuck, it’s Rory, and it’s that much better. And any fantasy I had about her has been completely overshadowed. She’s . . . magnificent. So fucking hot. Seeing her bent over my cock . . . God. Nothing comes clos
e. Not even last night when I watched her lose herself to her orgasm. Heard every uneven breath. Heard every moan. Watched her eyes dilate with desire. Like they are now. I came then while watching her, and then two times more seeing the unforgettable vision of her coming over and over again.

  Bending forward, her tongue peeks out, and I hold my breath as she licks the very tip of me. My head falls back against the pillows, my body melting into the mattress beneath me.

  “Fuck . . .” I breathe out just as her mouth pulls me in, hot and wet, taking me all the way to the back of her throat and pulling back up, her teeth barely grazing my skin, adding another sensation.

  “Rory, you don’t have to—”

  Her other hand finds my balls, where she takes them in her palm and gently rolls them with her fingers.

  Fucking magic.

  Catching my breath, I sit up on my elbows and watch as those perfect red lips slide up and down my cock—every fantasy of her mouth coming true. While she’s intent on what she’s doing, I keep my gaze trained on her, each stroke up and down my cock weakening me, melting me, until I feel like I’m simply a useless body going along for the ride.

  Rolling my balls, she then presses her finger to a spot just below them, rubbing and caressing. My eyes shoot open and my dick goes straight into her mouth. My balls tighten so goddamn fast I can feel my orgasm about to rip through me.

  “Fu . . . fuck, Rory. What the—” She repeats the caress, tearing the words from my lips as her tongue runs up the length of the underside of my cock, stopping just at the tip to my F-spot. Pausing for a second, she lightly kisses it before flicking her tongue over the sensitive area, her hand gripping my cock, the other rolling my balls and pressing a finger right below them.

  “Rory, baby, I’m going to come. I can’t, fuck, I can’t . . . goddamn it,” I moan, my hands gripping the sheets below me as her tongue brings me to orgasm. Her hand tightens around the base, her tongue relentlessly licks the tip, spurt after spurt coming out of me. My vision blacks out, my body rolls with my orgasm as it rips through me, paralyzing every single limb.

  I let out a long, heavy breath as Rory walks to the bathroom. I hear the distant sound of the water running and then I feel a warm towel press against my skin, wiping me clean. When she’s done, she comes back to the bed, presses her half-naked body against mine. Her head finds its spot in the crook of my shoulder, her hand moves to my chest, her fingers light, dancing across my skin. Reaching up, she places a gentle kiss against my jaw and whispers, “Happy birthday, handsome.”

  It’s the last thing I remember before I fall asleep, sucked into eternal bliss, more content than I’ve felt in a long time. It’s been so long since I’ve known goodness on this day, but this girl—my girl—has brought something never experienced, especially on my birthday. Peace.

  “Mmm, are you awake?” I ask. Rory’s ass is pressed against my crotch, the lace rubbing against my length. I don’t know when we switched positions, but cuddling her has never felt so damn right, like she was meant to be in my arms.

  “I am,” she answers sleepily, turning in my arms so she’s facing me, her eyes lazy, but alert. “How are you doing?”

  I can’t contain the smile that spreads across my face. “Fucking awesome.”

  She chuckles and lightly splays her fingers over my bare chest. “You passed out pretty quickly.”

  “You sucked all the energy from my body.” Wincing from my choice of words. “I’ve never experienced it like that before. You made me black out.”

  She wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Then I accomplished my goal.” Bringing her lips to mine, she lightly kisses me, her mouth so soft. “Last night you gave me such an amazing orgasm with only your voice, and I wanted to return the favor.”

  I place my hand on her hip, toying with the fabric of her G-string, twisting it with my fingers. “Last night was really fucking sexy.”

  “Do you know what was sexy?” Her eyelashes flutter. “The way you spoke to me, so commanding. It was like it triggered something inside me I’ve never experienced before, like I needed the control taken away from me. I came really hard.”

  Shit, talk about a way to get my dick hard in two seconds.

  Taking a moment, she pauses her fingers over my collarbone and asks, “Did you masturbate when you hung up?”

  There is no hiding it. I nod. “In the shower; the image of you coming on repeat in my head.” I run my fingers up her side. “The way your body arched off the bed, the way your mouth parted open in disbelief, the way your hand was buried so damn deep beneath your thong. Fuck, Rory, I’m getting hard now just thinking about it.”

  She starts to move her hand south until she reaches the divots in my stomach, playing with my lower abs, just above where my dick is yearning for her touch again. Wanting to tease her just as much, I slip down the strap of her bra so it hangs loosely over her arm and trace light circles above the swell of her breast.

  “How hard?” She rubs her legs together and I wonder if she’s wet. If she’s just as turned on as I am from her touch.

  “Find out for yourself,” I say, my voice dropping low.

  Her skin breaks out in goose bumps, her eyes flutter, and her body moves closer to mine as her hand travels those last few inches to the tip of my cock, the pads passing over the crown.

  “God, Colby.” She moves her hand farther down, gripping the base. I suck in a sharp breath and let her stroke me for a few passes, before I stop her and spin her to face away from me.

  She goes to protest, when with one hand, I snap her bra open and bring my hand to the front of her where I pull on the center, taking it off completely. I bring her close to my body by her stomach, her ass matched up against my erection, the sway of her breasts grazing my hand.

  Moving her hair to the side with my nose, I work my lips up and down the side of her neck.

  “Ohhh . . .” she moans, giving me more access, tilting her head to the side, her ass grinding along my cock.

  Not wanting anything between us, I move my hand from her ribs to her G-string where I start working it down her legs. She helps me and then backs her ass into my crotch once again.

  “Fuck, that feels so good,” I whisper along her skin, nibbling on her shoulder, biting enough to cause her to grip the back of my neck, keeping me in place. I repeat the bite, this time a little higher along her neck.

  “Yes.”

  Running my hand up her side from her smooth hip to her ribs, I slide my palm up and over her breast, her hardened nipple, loving how the tip rubs against my fingers. Her hand wanders to my hair where she pulls on the short strands, straining for me to be closer, my cock slipping along her crack, up and down, up and down. The sensation causes me to bite down harder on her skin.

  And then realization sets in . . .

  “I don’t have condoms.” I hate myself right now.

  Breathing heavily, she says, “My canvas bag. I brought a box.”

  Thank fuck.

  Placing a kiss on her neck, I hop out of bed, find the box, and tear open a wrapper. I waste no time in rolling the condom over my aching cock. My eyes are glued to Rory’s pert ass. So round and lifted, it’s the finest ass I’ve ever seen . . . probably from all the classes she teaches.

  The finest ass I’ve ever seen.

  I slip in behind her and she situates herself against me, resuming position, but this time, she takes my hand and runs it up her stomach to her breast where she has me cup her. Leaning over her shoulder, I watch in fascination as my hand squeezes her tit, her rosy nipple hard, aching for my touch.

  “I need you in me, Colby.”

  “Are you wet?” I ask, my fingers pinching her nipple.

  “Yes,” she moans.

  I release her nipple and work my way to her other tit, squeezing it hard when I say, “Prop your leg up.”

  She does as I say, opening herself to me. “Do you want me to fuck you, Rory?”

  She pulls on my neck and buries her ass against me. “More
than anything.”

  “Are you going to be loud?”

  “Do you want me to be?”

  Good answer.

  “Yes.” Stryder’s family is out for the day, and I couldn’t care less if Stryder hears us . . . or the neighbors for that matter. “Don’t fake it.”

  “Never.”

  Commanding her like she enjoys, I say, “Reach between your legs and find my cock. Now.”

  Wasting no time, she reaches between us and grips my cock. “Put it at your entrance.”

  I squeeze her nipple, causing her body to arch and her hand to pause. “Don’t make me wait.”

  Resuming her progress, she places the head of my cock at her entrance. “You want me inside you? You want to feel how thick I am? You want to know what it feels like to have me bottom out inside you?”

  “Yes,” she moans, her hips lightly pulsing, bouncing up and down on my tip.

  I bite her earlobe and slowly work my way inside her. So fucking tight.

  “Oh God, Colby. Oh my God, you’re so . . .”

  Shit, this angle isn’t good.

  “On your stomach.” When she doesn’t move right away, I pinch her nipple and say, “Now, Rory.”

  A wave of wet hits me before she slips to her stomach, my cock falling out of her. I move to get behind her and tilt her pelvis up in the air, her glistening center begging for me.

  Goddamn. So sexy.

  Wanting—needing—a sweet taste, I tilt her pelvis up even higher and lick across her slit. Her moans are drowned in the sheets, her hands grip the bedding, and her knuckles turn white. I take another swipe, and another, and another until she’s dripping. Fuck, she tastes so good. I press down on her clit with the tip of my tongue, holding it there for a few seconds before I flick it at a rapid pace, sending her right over the edge, her moans echoing through my head.

  I can’t wait any fucking longer.

  Gripping her hips, I flip her to her back, watch how her breasts beautifully jostle with the movements, her hair wild and floating over her face, and then I take her hands in mine, linking us.