I opened my mouth to say something, to make a joke, but gasped instead as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him.
His mouth closed over mine, unyielding, as he held my face to his. Fingers dug into my hair, and a moan fell from my mouth as he pressed his lips to the side of my chin and down the column of my throat. The nice guy, my quirky nerd, had been replaced with this dominant, hungry man, and I liked it.
Placing my palm on his hard chest, I felt his heart racing. Glad I’m not the only one.
My hands explored downward over his flat stomach. The ridges of his abs were like magnets for my fingers through the smooth fabric of his shirt, and I traced the muscles down to his belt, letting my fingers grip the leather.
Jake sat on the edge of the mattress and pulled me onto his lap, dotting kisses along my cheek and down my jawline, gently cupping my neck in his broad hand. “Your skin is so soft,” he murmured into my shoulder, lightly nipping, then kissing.
We stayed like that, oscillating between frenzied tongues and sweet kisses, soft strokes and firm grips. I fell into that moment, and there was just his mouth and his hands and our bodies. The night before had been hot, but the memory was blurry, the edges soft from the alcohol. Sitting with him on the bed, I was aware of every touch.
His fingers trailed up my spine, and he twisted, dipping me toward the bed, giggling as I fell backward. His tongue peeked out from between his lips, and he dragged a fingertip from my knee with painfully slow deliberation toward my hip bone.
My giggle faded, and we lay on the bed, wrapped in each other. “Hi,” I murmured.
“Hi.” He moved one palm to my hip, and our eyes locked.
“No cheesy lines now?”
He shook his head and cupped my ass, massaging and stroking. “I can’t think of anything besides touching you.” His fingers fluttered closer to where I wanted him, to where I hadn’t welcomed anyone in so long.
“Good. You cheddar not stop,” I murmured on a fluttery exhale.
He smiled against my neck as his fingers brushed over the wet panel of my panties. I inched my thighs apart, and my breath caught in my throat as he traced along my seam through the fabric.
“You want this?” he asked, voice husky. He continued to trace long lines back and forth. Electricity arced through me as I rocked my pelvis toward his fingers.
“Yes,” I croaked, my breaths coming in sharp, short bursts. No man had ever asked me if I wanted this, and I liked it. “It’s been a long time, but yes.”
“The Ferris wheel was worth it.” He ran his palm over my stomach and down my hips, then back up my skirt, his warm palm trailing over my thighs. “To kiss you,” he rasped. He slid into my panties, his long fingers stroking and his thumb teasing me with the lightest pressure. “To feel you.”
I arched, back bowing off the bed at his touch. I want this. I want this. I want this.
“So perfect,” he breathed out again, pressing his lips along my collarbone, then to my breast, sucking gently on a hard nipple through my thin shirt. His fingers continued to tease, and his lips left me frazzled with pent-up anticipation. I pulled my tank top over my head, anxious to remove the barrier. Jake didn’t miss a beat, immediately pushing the cups of my bra down and taking me into his mouth. Watching his lips on me was mesmerizing.
I inhaled sharply. The sensation floored me. Part of me needed everything, every touch all at once, before he pulled away. I reached to push down my underwear, but he caught my hand, then dragged the lacy fabric down my legs himself, his movements slow and deliberate. I couldn’t take my eyes off his hand traveling down my leg.
After tossing the fabric aside, he dotted kisses on each of my breasts, sweet little pecks before he returned his hand to between my legs. His finger inched inside me, moving in and out slowly before pressing deeper, searching. He crooked his finger, and I cried out, tipping my head back as he stroked against the sensitive spot.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about all the ways I could make you smile. God, you have a great smile.” He thrust his fingers faster, treating and tormenting the spot deep inside me.
I held my breath. Lost in sensation, I clutched Jake’s shoulder. Don’t stop.
“Jake, please,” I whimpered before kissing him hard, our lips and tongues clashing, willing him to keep going. In seconds, I cried out, an orgasm rushing through my body like a wave crashing to shore after building to a lofty crest. I floundered to clutch the sheets as I thrashed and then trembled.
His fingers slowed, his palm gently pressing against me, and my body convulsed as I felt his smile against my neck.
Let someone else bring me to orgasm. Check. Check. Check.
My breath was shaky, the tremors of pleasure still echoing.
His eyes met mine, and the look that passed between us reinforced for me how different this was than any other experience, and the feeling left my head spinning. It hadn’t been just sexual; he’d released some valve on human connection I’d long felt was rusted shut.
“You’re shaking,” he said, sliding the back of his other hand over the side of my face, brushing strands of hair away. “Are you okay?”
Something in the gentle way he touched me combined with the overwhelming desire I had to be closer to him—to have every inch of our bodies connected—made tears well in my eyes, one falling down my cheek.
“Did I . . . hurt you?” he asked, concern coloring his face, and he brushed the tear away with his thumb.
I shook my head, embarrassment heating my skin. “No. God, no!” This was so many miles away from hurting, but another tear fell. What is wrong with me? “I just wasn’t ready for it to be that . . . good. That intense. I don’t know why I’m crying.”
His gaze wandered over my face, his thumbs sweeping away more tears.
“I’m sorry. How embarrassing,” I said, trying to cover my eyes.
“Don’t apologize,” he said, voice dipping in volume. “You said it’s been a long time. We’ll only do what you want, what you’re ready for.”
Though his arousal was imposing between us, he dragged my hand, not to his pants, but to his lips, planting tiny kisses down the side of my thumb at the sensitive skin on the underside of my wrist, stopping me from hiding my face.
* * *
An hour later, we lay facing each other on the bed, our breathing steady and even. A blanket of contentment settled over me after coming undone in his arms a second time and bringing him to an eruptive climax with my hands. Without taking things all the way, the connection between us was undeniable. He seemed to intuit that I needed time to jump in, more than I had realized, but I hadn’t felt rushed or self-conscious. My tinges of self-doubt, that he must be bored or think me childish, were always met with more sweet kisses, electrifying touches, or achingly slow caresses.
Jake trailed his finger over the shell of my ear, pushing a strand of hair off my face. I loved his touch against my skin, grazing so gently one moment and erotically the next. I’d never felt so drawn to someone.
“Tell me something about yourself,” I whispered.
“Are you collecting all my secrets?” he asked, sleepily. I nodded, and he stretched one arm up above his head, his eyes raised to the ceiling as he thought about a response. As he stretched, I admired how his stomach tapered into a V.
“Doesn’t have to be a secret.” I searched his face, taking in the lines and shadows. This was incredible, but I had to remind myself that this was not my real life.
“I’ve been successful in my career, made a lot of money, and I love what I do. I was able to strike out and start my own business recently. It’s scary and exciting, but sometimes, it all feels a little . . . empty.”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you worked in that you make a lot of money. You already got into my pants.” I slid a hand down his arm.
Our clothes had come off slowly. My bra and skirt
were somewhere across the room near his pants, and I had no idea where he’d tossed my underwear. We lay together naked.
“You weren’t wearing any.” He swatted my bare bottom lightly. “Anyway, I don’t think you’re the kind of woman who would be interested in men because of money. You’re too . . . good.”
“I don’t think anything we just did is in the good girl’s handbook.”
“Agree to disagree,” he chuckled, stroking my hip.
“Anyway, you said it feels empty. How do you mean?”
“I work long hours and come home to an empty place. I don’t even have a cat. I worry I’ve missed a step along the way.”
“Yeah?”
“It gets lonely, is all. I always pictured my life with someone, really with them, you know? Like having a real partner, a family, all of that.”
I bit my tongue. Even after everything we’d just done, this conversation felt too intimate.
In that moment, I also wanted to confess everything. How I was lonely, too, and why I’d been closed off for so long. I wanted to tell him about being scared I was broken, because no one’s touch had ever done the things that his had. That I knew exactly what he meant when he talked about feeling empty, and how scared I was of not having my job as a refuge. I opened my mouth, but I held back. He’s not a stranger anymore, but he might as well be.
“I’m not sure why I’m telling you all this. I guess you’re just easy to talk to,” he said after I’d been silent for a moment. “Tell me a secret. Why did you want a one-night stand? That seems out of character.”
A tingle swept across the back of my neck, and I winced, remembering the last time I’d been in this room. “It is unlike me.” I buried my face in his chest, the warmth of his arm at my back.
The urge to share everything bubbled up inside me again, but I pressed my eyelids together, commanded my head to take back control from my heart, and told him the part of the truth that didn’t make me look so helpless. “I wanted to get out of my rule-following life and do something a little wild.”
“I’m not complaining.”
I pulled back so I could look up into his face, and in that moment realized I didn’t know the answer to the question that suddenly overtook me. “Do you think, or . . . um? Is this a one-night stand?”
“I hope not,” he said in a low voice, brushing hair off my face again, a gesture I was quickly coming to adore. “This is night number two, so it’s a mathematical impossibility.” His mouth twitched as if he was about to say something else, but he nodded instead, and we lay in silence once more. The unspoken addition to his sentence was that whatever this was had an expiration after a few more days when he flew home. That’s what I’d wanted, but a sudden wave of loss settled over me.
“Why did you talk to me in the bar?”
“I was intrigued by the pole dancing conversation. Is that woman okay?”
“Seems to be on the mend. I guess I should thank her.”
“Me, too.” He laughed before his index finger tipped up my chin. “That was part of it, but look at you. You’re gorgeous, and when I heard you on the phone and knew you were funny, too . . .” He paused his sentence with a kiss dropped on my lips. “I had to say something.”
We lay together in silence. His breathing slowed, and I wondered if he’d fallen asleep by the time he finally spoke. “Tell me something else, Naya like a papaya.”
“I’m scared of butterflies.” I shuddered at the thought.
He chuckled. “Butterflies?” His breath caressed my ear.
“All bugs, but butterflies are the worst.”
He walked his fingertips up my ribs like a spider, and I smacked his hand. His low rumble of a laugh reverberated against my back. When his hand crawled over my hip, I scurried to a sitting position.
“Hey!” I squealed.
I couldn’t get enough of his body heat, and that drowsy, surrounded feeling of being next to him. The wheels in my head wanted to turn, to analyze the situation and look for exit strategies—old habits died hard. But he wrapped his palm around my ankle, stroking upward over my calf, and the wheels stilled. I didn’t want to escape. I didn’t want to move an inch.
“Do you mind that we haven’t . . .” I let my voice trail off into the air. I’d arrived at the hotel planning to take a leap, to have sex with my handsome stranger. His fingers inside me had been so intense, I’d nearly doubled over with the physical pleasure, but also with the weight of the connection coursing between us. I wasn’t sure how he knew it was hitting me so hard, but he hadn’t pushed or prodded or made me feel guilty. I wasn’t used to someone waiting for me. Still, I worried I’d let him down.
He planted a few pecks on my knee. “No, I don’t mind,” he murmured against my skin, moving his hand up and down my thigh, fingers grazing the skin a little higher with each pass. He looked to me, eyebrows raised as if for permission, and I nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, I definitely want more, but when, or if, you want me inside you, I don’t want you to have any doubts. I’m happy to keep making you feel good.”
My pulse quickened, and I settled back, sinking deeper against the pillows and headboard. Previous lovers had tried to get me to climax like this. There was never a big finale. I began to just fake it, so the guy didn’t feel bad.
“Okay?” he asked, and I nodded again. “Good.” His tone was distracted as he planted sweet kisses higher on my thigh, his tongue wet on my skin for brief moments.
“Jake.” I purred his name, my head bobbing backward.
“Mm?” He spread my legs wider, arms wrapping around my thighs as he kissed only a few inches from my center. He stilled, his eyes meeting mine. “Do you want me to stop?”
My knees slowly fell apart as he settled between them. My words were punctuated with stuttered breaths, anticipation taking hold. “No. I, uh. Don’t stop.” My hips gyrated as he shifted higher, and I swayed between desperately wanting his mouth on me and cringing at the shame I’d feel if I couldn’t get there. “I might take a while to finish, though.”
He smiled up at me, that cute crooked grin, then looked down at where my legs met, his gaze intense. I was open to him, bare in so many ways, and he settled his hands on my thighs as he continued to kiss higher. “I’m in no hurry. Tell me what feels good, okay?”
As his mouth met its destination and his tongue began a slow trail, my head fell back against the pillows. I had no idea this was what I was missing. I moaned as he glided over my slick, sensitive folds, expertly flicking, circling, and stroking, leading me to the edge until I reeled.
Ten
Jake: I can’t wait to see you again.
Jake: When are you free? I should be good after 9:00.
I wrapped a fluffy towel around my chest and leaned against the sink in my bathroom. I’d left Jake’s hotel room around two in the morning and taken an Uber home after a searing kiss in the hotel lobby. He’d invited me to stay, but that felt too big, so I told him I had an early meeting. After only five hours of sleep, I should have been a wreck, but I was buzzing with energy. Multiple orgasms: more effective than coffee. Who knew?
Naya: I have to do a favor for my boss tonight so 9 will be good.
Jake: I can’t wait to see you again.
Naya: You already said that
Jake: I know. I have no chill.
Jake: Also, I can’t wait to see you again.
Positioning the camera in selfie mode and finding that perfect angle that thinned my face, I snapped a photo. My shoulders were dappled with water drops, the towel hugged my breasts, and the sunlight from my bathroom window cast my skin in a great light.
Though the thrill of being a little naughty and turning him on made my temperature rise, I debated whether I should send it. Davis had taken photos of me when we dated, and I always feared he’d share them.
But Jake’s not Davis.
>
Once again, I imagined the sweet smile from the ice cream shop and the heated gaze after we kissed. “They’re different,” I said to the empty room, and hit send.
Naya: And now you don’t have to wait to see me.
The three dots bounced, indicating he was composing a reply before the buzz came a minute later.
Jake: Wow.
Jake: I will have this image at my fingertips all day—you are so cruel.
* * *
I walked casually across the quad between meetings, enjoying the fresh air and open sidewalks. Students had started their mass exodus from campus, and everything was peaceful. I’d wanted to work at TU because of the chance to collaborate with top scholars, but the campus grounds still took my breath away after all these years. Daylilies peeked up toward the sky, dotting the manicured lawn with yellow and red touches that made the sunshine just a bit brighter. Nearby, the splash of water from a stone fountain mixed with the sounds of music blasting from a group of students gathered around a laptop. This looked like the cover of an instructional manual on how to have the perfect day. I briefly considered twirling in the breeze.
What the hell is going on with me?
What was going on with me was definitely my handsome stranger who didn’t seem like much of a stranger anymore. I continued down the path to my office, a smile plastered on my face.
“You look like you’re in a good mood.” The familiar voice of a colleague interrupted my thoughts as she slowed her speed going in the other direction. “End of the year, right?”
I chuckled and nodded. “Exactly.” Jill was a few years my junior and taught in the business school. We’d served on a few committees and project groups together, and she was always kind and pleasant. The perfect person to chat with when I feel this good. “Do you have plans for the summer?”
“Hopefully not looking for another job. Do you know much about the rumors of departments getting cut?”
How to Fail at Flirting Page 7