Infini

by Krista Ritchie

  While I lean against him, Luka kisses the base of my neck, and as he hits a bundle of nerves, a gasp breaches my lips, my hand searches for support. I end up clutching his muscular thigh.

  His other palm roams my body, toying with my sensitive nipples. It feels amazing. I’m lit up, and we’re just on number one of my list.

  I ache for more. I’m so afraid that we’ll be cut off and interrupted again. Yet, I like each lengthy step, the moment stretched like a taut rubber band, readying to snap into a body-shaking climax.

  While my back is right up against his chest, he does something that he knows I love. Luka wraps both of his arms around me. One snakes around my collarbones, the other around my abdomen. His embrace firm and incredibly loving. I’m vulnerable as he clutches me this strongly, but I still have control—and I trust him entirely.

  Wholeheartedly.

  “Tighter,” I whisper.

  He strengthens the force of his hold on me. The muscles of his biceps cut in sharp lines, and my head lolls back while his lips burn hot trails up my neck.

  His mouth finds mine, kissing me upside-down, and I feel his smile.

  In a short breath, he whispers, “Two.”

  Two: all kissing.

  I reach up and run my fingers through the back of his hair. Especially as he dips his head down again and kisses me languidly, extending the force. I grind my ass, my body digging deeper against his body, even if there’s no more space. So close.

  His lips break from mine, a grunt in his throat. He starts walking forward, and of course, I go with him. Not detaching. He guides us to the window, and my palms hit the glass.

  “Three,” he says deeply.

  Three: skin-to-skin contact.

  I tremble in anticipation of what’s to come. OhGod. “Luka,” I cry out his name, and I don’t wait for him to unzip me. I spin around on him and fist his shirt.

  Luka kisses me roughly, full-forced again. I kiss back. Feverishly, he rolls up the bottom of my dress to my hipbones. Exposing my panties.

  I bite his lip.

  He nips mine, and I finish unbuttoning his shirt. He tosses it aside, bare-chested—his sculpted abs in direct view, and then he undoes his slacks. Stepping out of them, I see the outline of his cock in his dark-blue boxer-briefs, rock hard and long.

  Swiftly and skillfully, he unzips me in one quick stroke, and my dress falls to the floor. Luka draws me against his chest like a dance move, and he murmurs, “Three, again.”

  A sheen of sweat already coats our skin, and even more heat gathers. My flesh tingles, and my hands explore his body as vigorously as he rediscovers mine. Practically naked, my laced panties leave nothing to the imagination.

  His forehead touches mine, staring deep into me. “You’re going up again.”

  “Why?” I breathe, wanting to hear him say it.

  His lip almost quirks. “I want to feel your pussy against me.”

  I pulse and pulse, and without falter, he lifts me up, my legs spreading open and then gripping tight around his waist. He pushes me closer, and I arch towards him, gasping aloud.

  Luka holds my ass but his other hand strikes the window. Pressed there. “Bay,” he nearly groans out. My limbs shake.

  “Luka.” I wrap my arms around his shoulders, eye-level with him.

  He seizes my gaze, staring straight into me again, and he rubs the inside of my thigh, inching to my panties.

  Instead of letting my shoulders touch the window to brace me, he uses the strength of his left arm to keep me hoisted around him. He still cups my ass, and his more dominant hand—his right hand—finds the most sensitive place.

  His fingers graze my swollen clit through my panties, and I curse beneath my breath, my veins on fire—the feeling incredible. Mind-numbing. And I never tear from his gaze.

  Luka shifts the fabric of my panties so he meets flesh. Our eye-contact is just as intense, and I inhale a sharp breath as he adds friction, rubbing—OhGod.

  OhGod.

  He’s a statue that I tremble against, and he only clutches stronger. I can’t imagine breaking off the way he’s looking at me. It fuels me. Lights my core in a thousand extraordinary colors.

  He pushes two fingers into me, and I can’t pick my mouth up, too overcome. I blaze head-to-toe from the force between my legs. Feeling full.

  Luka speeds up.

  High-pitched noises fly out of my mouth—I almost shut my eyes. Look at him. I stare right at him. God, look at him.

  His gaze consumes me whole.

  I hit a peak, pulsing around his fingers, and I buck against Luka. He retracts his hand and holds me so tight to his body. I moan softly into his neck. Hands in his hair.

  Don’t let me go.

  Don’t let me go.

  And then my phone rings.

  I lift my head slightly. Dazed. Luka glances around, but I pant, “It sounds like…my ringtone.”

  He brings me to the bed and sets me on the edge. “Do you want me to—”

  “No,” I cut him off. “Just…leave it.” If I answer the phone or look at the caller, this could end. I don’t want reality to catch up to us yet.

  Luka listens, but he does return to his slacks. He digs in his pocket and procures a condom. I swallow, realizing that this is happening.

  Tonight.

  As he approaches the bed, he assesses my rigid posture and expression. “If you want to go slower—”

  “It’s been four years—”

  “Five.”

  “I don’t think it can go slower than that,” I finish my thought. “I want this. I want you. I’m just kind of nervous because I haven’t had sex in a long time.” Unlike you.

  He understands. “That’s the point of all of this, right? The list.”

  “Yeah,” I nod, but we both go quiet, heaviness tensing the air. If we could, we’d be together. I think we’re both well aware of this fact by now. I scoot towards the headboard, my cell ringing out to silence.

  Luka bends down and picks up his own fallen phone. He puts on a playlist of music, and the old song “Stand By Me” by Ben E. King starts playing.

  I immediately smile. “You’re too much.”

  He laughs. “Compliments from Baylee Wright. I’ll take them all.”

  My heart is full.

  As Luka towers at the edge of the bed, I eye the tattoos that cover his right leg, disappearing up the hem of his boxer-briefs. I spot a tiny river otter from afar. It’s random.

  All random.

  Unabashed, he lowers his boxer-briefs and frees his erection. Stepping out of his underwear, he opens the condom package and then effortlessly slides it on.

  I was with him when he actually struggled at that, and now he does it easily. And his dick is bigger, which shouldn’t be surprising that he hit a growth spurt. It’s been obvious that he’s not a fifteen-year-old boy anymore.

  I just soak in the differences. The similarities.

  And I’m more satisfied with this new chapter of our lives. If I could rewind time, I’d be with him in that gap of separation, but since I can’t, I hang onto the present.

  I crawl beneath the red covers, and the mattress undulates with his weight. Right beside me, he slips under them too, and I peel my panties off my ankles.

  Naked.

  We’re both naked.

  I lie down, head on the pillow. I feel like this is my first time again. I’m just as nervous. It really is a giant redo of our last experience together. Caught behind a costume rack. Horrible.

  We ended things one-hundred percent terribly.

  Bracing his hand beside my head—and keeping his weight off of me—Luka is above my body, and he uses his knee to break apart my locked legs. Spreading them wide open.

  Then he kisses my nose, causing me to smile.

  “What are you scared of?” he asks quietly.

  I think. And I realize that I don’t have the same fears as I did years ago. “I’m afraid of loving it too much,” I tell him.

  His brows fu
rrow. “Why?”

  “Because it’s going to end. Someday. One day.”

  Luka can’t promise that it won’t end, but his lips meet mine in a full-bodied kiss that lifts my chest up against his. Breathing life into me.

  I clutch his biceps, my body reawakening. My ankle rubs his leg, and our tongues tangle. He clasps my cheek with one hand, and when he edges back, our eyes possess each other.

  Very tenderly, Luka says, “All I know is what I feel. And I’m in love with you, Bay. Right now. Not just five years ago—but here, today. Yesterday. Tomorrow. It’s forever kind of love, and I’m not letting go. I can’t let go.”

  Tears crease the corners of my eyes, and I nod in affirmation, in agreement. Too overcome to speak aloud. I touch my eyes with my finger, and he rubs an escaped tear with his thumb.

  I love him beyond recognition. Beyond perception. I love him so fully that it hurts.

  I mouth, I love you, and he soaks up the words before he kisses me again. And again. Deeper. Stronger. We wrap up in each other’s limbs, heat brewing.

  He pulls me further beneath him so we’re in perfect alignment, and he whispers, “Five.”

  Five: sex. He skips number four on my list. Maybe purposefully leaving oral for another time. Because once we do everything on the list, we’re over.

  Luka seizes my gaze while he lifts up my hips, just slightly, and inch-by-inch, he slowly fills me. The hairs rise on my arms, his unhurried, agonizing pace striking all of my nerves. I shudder and my legs unconsciously twitch.

  I clutch his toned ass that flexes as he thrusts harder into me. OhGod. He starts rocking in and out, and I swear, I see stars. My eyes nearly roll back, breath lodged in my throat.

  Luka cups my face and kisses me, forcing me to breathe properly. It’s one of the kindest efforts ever given to me in bed.

  I appreciate it, so much so that I grind forward. He meets me, pushing deeper. I moan against his lips, and he smiles—before a grunt catches his throat, aroused. So aroused.

  I try to hang onto his body, my limbs tensing up and aching to hit a climax and fall slack. I’m so full. Luka never stops the momentum. Our friction builds more sweat, and he suddenly lifts me up in his arms.

  I’m on his lap, my arms draped around his shoulders. Our eyes lock, and gripping my hips, he moves me up and down his shaft.

  “Luka,” I cry out, the feelings in my body and heart welling my eyes.

  His glass, too, and he presses his forehead to mine, holding the back of my neck with one hand.

  My nails dig into his shoulder. “I don’t want to come. Not yet, not yet,” I say in rapid breaths.

  Luka kisses me and whispers, “You’re going to come, and it won’t be the last time, Bay.” But he doesn’t specify whether it’ll be from him or someone else.

  One more push in and out, and my vision blackens, my body shaking, and my lips part for the millionth time, no noise able to escape. I clench around him, and he reaches an orgasm just as powerful, his body rocking forward. He holds me.

  He’s always holding me.

  As light returns, I blink—slowly descending this high. We both breathe heavily, and I rest my forehead on his shoulder, my body weakening to mush. I have no energy to lift myself off his cock.

  And then my phone rings again.

  I stiffen.

  He glances over his shoulder, my cell vibrating on the carpet.

  Do we look? Do we ruin this? I hesitate. “If it’s serious, your phone would be going off too, right?” I ask him.

  “Yeah.” He nods, combing back his damp hair. I feel like he’s trying to assure himself. “We’re good.” No sooner does he finish, and his phone pings with a notification, either text or email or social media. I don’t know which.

  I freeze more.

  “Ignore that,” he tells me, but my ringer dies out only to start up again. He sighs, resigned and frustrated.

  We both know we can’t really ignore it any longer. I rise to my knees, and Luka pulls out.

  I slide off the bed, cold air chilling my bare skin. I shiver but hurry to find my phone, buried in my clutch.

  The moment I clasp my cell, the ring ends.

  Three missed calls from… “It’s my aunt,” I tell Luka and immediately return her call, worried that something happened to the baby. Her due date is still far away.

  I press my phone to my ear, shivering more.

  Luka tosses me a hotel robe and adjusts the air conditioner. I watch him also simultaneously slip on boxer-briefs and check his phone—multitasking too well. We both have good hand-eye coordination, but he can’t juggle more than four balls at once.

  I like having a leg up on him somewhere.

  He also can’t spin a basketball on his finger for more than two seconds. That, I won’t ever let him live down.

  I put on the soft cotton robe, knotting the ties around my waist, and then the phone line clicks.

  “There you are,” Aunt Lucy says, voice more tight than usual.

  “Is everything okay?” I sit on the edge of the bed.

  “You tell me.”

  I don’t understand her vagueness at all. “What do you mean?” I look up as Luka flashes me his cellphone screen.

  Are you with my sister? Be honest. – Brenden

  Luka shakes his head like he has no clue what to say, and he takes a seat next to me, hunched forward, hand on his mouth in thought.

  Why wouldn’t Brenden just text me?

  Maybe he’s afraid I’ll lie to him. I don’t want that type of relationship with my brother, but I feel boxed in. I’m barred from giving him the truth by Aerial Ethereal, so I have to lie.

  “How are you doing?” Aunt Lucy clarifies. It must be hellishly late on the east coast, so I don’t know why this question would warrant multiple late-night calls.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her, trying to make sure of this. “The baby—”

  “Is fine. I called about you.” She must shift her phone because her voice is muffled and I hear chatter in the background. Clearer, she says, “Devon says hello.”

  “Hi, Devon.” I swallow. “I’m fine too.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Because your brother thinks you’re using cocaine again, and between you and me—we both know that you never started, so tell me what’s really going on.”

  My face falls. “Why would he think that?”

  Next to me, Luka flashes his cell again.

  I’m not trying to grill you. I’m worried about Bay. She’s been acting off lately. Text me back. – Brenden

  “Apparently you’ve been standoffish at work towards him,” Aunt Lucy says, “and every time he asks if you’d like to hang out, you say you’d rather be alone.”

  I pause and decide to tell a partial truth. “I’m just stressed out. Infini’s new choreographer is really demanding, and I haven’t felt social lately. It’s nothing to worry about. I’ll talk to Brenden tomorrow and tell him that.”

  Aunt Lucy is quiet.

  My stomach is in my throat.

  Luka is typing on his phone, forming a response to Brenden.

  “Aunt Lucy?” I say.

  “Are you still taking your antidepressants?”

  “Yes,” I say firmly. “I haven’t had a really bad low in a while.”

  Luka’s eyes flit to me for the briefest second. His concern is noted, too.

  She lets out a strained breath. “You’re not skirting around the truth because I’m pregnant, right? Because that’s not right. I’m able to handle your emotions and mine because I care about you. And you’re my responsibility. Understand?”

  I smile faintly. “You’re going to be a great mom.”

  Her voice softens. “Thank you, but talk to me.”

  “I’ve been honest,” I say.

  “Will you FaceTime me?”

  Right now? My eyes widen as I look around the hotel room. Sheets tangled, covers askew, and clothes litter the floor. “I’ll FaceTime tomorrow,�
� I say. “I promise.”

  Aunt Lucy hesitates but then says, “Tomorrow. I’m setting a reminder on my phone.”

  “Okay. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  I almost smile as we hang up, but Luka presses send on a text that I start reading.

  I don’t know anything. Sorry, dude. – Luka

  I give him a look. “That’s your response?”

  “We literally exchanged numbers two days ago, only because I left my keycard and got locked out of the suite. I’m not exactly your brother’s best friend.”

  Correction: they’ve never been friends. Friendly, maybe. But in New York, all invites from both sides were rejected.

  “He’s going to text you back,” I tell him.

  Luka rereads the text and shakes his head.

  “If you read your message a certain way, it comes across dry and rude.”

  Luka laughs.

  “I’m not kidding.” I groan because now I’m smiling. “Luka.”

  He extends his arm. “I’m not sarcastic.” His humored smile shouldn’t be that beautiful or contagious, but it is. A hundred percent.

  “Brenden doesn’t know you that well.”

  On cue, Luka’s phone pings in his palm.

  Are you fucking with me? – Brenden

  Luka hands me the phone. “You text him back.”

  “As you?” This is a bad idea. But we’re full of those.

  “Yeah.”

  I start typing, trying to figure out what to say to my older brother as Luka. This is bad. Bad, bad, bad. “We’re going to hell for this,” I tell Luka.

  His lips stretch. “At least we’ll be together.”

  I lean into him, and he wraps his arm around my shoulders, kissing the top of my head like usual. The tension lessens in my limbs, and I breathe easier. “There.” Pressing send, I flash the phone at him.

  Luka reads my message.

  I’m being truthful. I really have no idea where she is. If I hear from her, I’ll let you know. Thanks :)

  Luka tilts his head at a me. “A smiley face?”

  “What? It’s nice and a tone indicator.”

  He shakes his head again and starts laughing, which causes me to laugh just as much. The noises cease the moment another ping resounds, his phone in my hand.