by Ellie Rowe
This is a disaster. I’m sitting in my suite of rooms, feeling the weight of such a glaring reminder that my life is crumbling. After everything I went through to rip this place from Blake’s hands, now I’ve lost it.
I’m surrounded by this hard-fought luxury while looking for apartments on Craigslist. I feel like I’m in college again; except then, my search felt fun and exciting. This is a less than lateral move.
Everything I’m finding is either in a lousy neighborhood, incredibly small, or both. Oh, Christ, I’m going to need a roommate. I haven’t even considered what I’m going to do for work. I’ll leave that to future Natalie.
Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. My heart races and I look toward it with a grimace. I do not want to open that. The last thing I need is some photographer or reporter who’s somehow made it past the lobby coming after me.
The knock comes again. It’s soft, so that means it’s not either. Small wins.
I sigh as I snap my laptop shut and stand up. What’s the worst that can happen? I just slam the door and call the police, right?
And if the bastard puts his foot in the door, I can stomp on it and slam it shut again. Satisfied with this plan of attack, I swing it open, ready for a fight. Only it’s not a shitty photographer with a camera in my face.
Far from it.
It’s Roger Zane, standing on the threshold with a bottle of wine in his hands. I peek at the label. It’s even more expensive than the last one. Still, I can’t just let him into my apartment, let alone back into my life right now. Everything that has fallen to shit is at least partly because of him.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, making no move to let him by. Maybe I will have to slam the door after all.
“I thought you could use a drink,” he smiles and proffers the wine bottle. He’s not wrong. I could definitely use a stiff one, but it feels like taking the devil’s candy.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. We don’t have the best track record, remember?” I say dryly as I give him an eyebrow. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, but offers a big smile in return.
“What’s one more drink then, right?”
It was my ‘fuck it’ attitude that got me into this mess in the first place, but I can’t seem to resist. I sigh audibly and open the door wider so he can brush past me, even the most miniscule touch feels electric.
God, I must be some sick puppy.
“Whoa,” Roger says as he eyes up all my boxes. They’re all labeled and perfectly organized, stacked to perfection for easy access and delivery. Trying to put my skills and anger to good use. I don’t know what to say to him, so I just gesture broadly at the universe.
“I, uh, I got your note,” he says with a sad look, “but I was hoping it was some kind of joke.”
“Afraid not,” I say as I flop on the couch. “Corkscrew is in the ‘essential kitchen tools’ box on the granite top there.”
Roger smiles and nods, setting down the bottle to go hunting. “There’s nothing I can do Roger,” I sigh. “Like I said in the note, I’ve lost my job.”
Roger stops his rummaging. “Oh, fuck, Natalie, you’re serious?” It’s funny, even in a time like this, I can’t help but note how good my name sounds coming from his mouth. I ignore the thought for the time being.
“Yes. They found out about my little slap fest…” I shoot him a look, and he smirks as he starts on the wine, “and they didn’t take it too kindly, so, I’m fired. And, to make matters worse, I’ve been replaced immediately by a hateful backstabbing little, pardon my French, cunt named Gabby-fucking-Green.”
I slump further into the couch as Roger returns with a big old glass of wine.
“I found the glasses under ‘kitchen glassware fragile’. It’s like the Dewey Decimal system in there,” he chuckles as he sits down beside me.
“Thanks,” I mumble into my glass. Oh, that’s good. He may have played a part in destroying my life, but he’s got great taste. Almost makes it hard to hold it against him.
“Blake Western promised he’d ruin my life, and he’s done a banner job.” I raise my glass to toast his and he shakes his head.
“I am not raising a glass to that fuckface,” Roger says seriously. I grin. “Instead, let’s raise our glasses for a fresh start?”
I roll my eyes, but clink my glass against his anyway.
I take a deep sip.
“I’m just not sure where to start. I built this life for myself. Having it all ripped away is just… too much. Not sure when you last browsed the internet for housing, but it’s a scary world out there, my friend.”
I take another sip and continue, “The next time you see me, I’m gonna be roomies with Stacey and River, two out-of-town dropouts with big dreams of opening a vape shop from our living room or something like that…”
“Hey,” Roger puts a hand on my knee, and I feel my thigh tense under the pressure. A familiar heat radiates through my body, I’d like to blame the wine, but I know better.
“I feel like this is all partially, if not completely, my fault,” Roger says as he eyes me seriously. “I know you’re already pretty organized, but… how about you stay here instead?”
“I just told you —”
“I know,” he cuts me off with a squeeze in the thigh. “But, what if you could stay here, for free? From this night forward. I’d like to offer that, if you let me.”
Oh my God. All I can do is stare at him with my mouth open. Like a knight in shining armor, he just swoops in and rescues me from a terrible cockroach-infested fate.
I’m so moved, I almost feel myself tearing up. I mean, I’d like to say, ‘oh no, I’ve got a much better option than living rent-free in this luxury suite’, but… here we are. His hand tightens on my thigh again. Here we are, indeed.
He puts down his glass and reaches for mine. I finish it in one sip first, and he laughs before setting it down next to his.
“Won’t you let me do that for you?” he asks as he slides closer to me on the couch. “Please,” he whispers in my ear before he nips at my earlobe. I gasp and run my hands down his hard-muscled front, letting them glide over the growing bulge in his pants.
I can’t answer him yet, but judging by the way things are heating up, I don’t think he’ll mind if I wait just a little longer. His lips meet mine and he pushes me backward onto the couch. One hand explores the curves of my body, while the other keeps him hovering above me.
I kiss him back with fervor before undoing the buttons of his sleek work shirt. He slides his tongue in my mouth, and I moan in delight. The sound sends him reeling as he presses his hardness against me. I’m already desperate to feel him inside me again, and I work at his pants.
He pulls his mouth from mine and grabs my hand as my fingers slip inside his pants.
“What?” I ask, breathless. A wicked grin spreads across his face as he sits back on his heels and slides his hands up my thigh and under my skirt.
“Lucky me,” he says as he realizes my tights end at my thighs. “I wanna see.”
He pushes up my skirt, revealing the lacy tops of my tights with their matching panties. What can I say? When I’m feeling down, I control only what I can. Matching underwear was all I could handle today, and I’m utterly grateful for it.
“Oh, yes,” he breathes in ecstasy as he lowers his mouth to my thighs. I gasp at the contact of his soft lips. His palms squeeze my thighs before his finger flicks aside the flimsy lace. He slides one inside and I moan, gripping the side of the couch for support.
He pulls out his finger, and, with expert dexterity, rips my underwear in half. “Hey!” I yelp as I look down. His head pops up for a moment.
“I’ll buy you a dozen,” he lowers his head and suddenly, I feel his wet, slick tongue snake up my folds before entering. All is forgiven. Does he want the skirt, too? I got it on sale — rip away!
He digs his fingertips into my hips as he thrusts his tongue further inside me. I can say without a doubt, I have ne
ver felt so fucking phenomenal in my entire life. I spread my legs, and he moans inside me, flicking his tongue to my clit in between thrusts.
Oh my God, this is heaven.
Little stars are dancing across my line of vision as my thighs spasm at each lick and thrust. He pushes me closer and closer to my breaking point, and I tangle my fingers in his hair, pressing my foot against the table for leverage.
This man is a goddamn professional. His thumb slides up as he works to circle my clit, not letting up until I’m past the breaking point and thrusting myself into his wanting mouth, riding wave after wave of divine pleasure.
I gasp and sit up to stare at him, this sexy, surprisingly thoughtful, sex extraordinaire. If the penthouse has this kind of amenity, I may just stay for life.
Twelve
Roger
The taste of her is still fresh on my tongue as she recovers her breath and flings her body against mine. We kiss and our tongues snake together, deep in each other’s mouths. Her hand slides up and down the bulge my hard-on creates in my pants. I lie back on the couch with her above me.
Her lips slide over to my neck, her tongue tracing the outline of my ear. I slip my hand back under her skirt and give more attention to her wet pussy. She grabs my hand though, removing it from between her legs.
I look at her. She’s got a naughty little look on her face. I have a feeling this is going to be good. She puts both hands over my head and holds them down. Still keeping me cuffed like that, she slinks lower on my body, kissing and licking my chest. Being unable to touch her as she sends such wild feelings through me adds to the desire. I writhe beneath her, pressing my hard-on against her.
She gently bites one of my nipples, and I inhale sharply at the mix of pleasure and pain. I’m starting to lose my mind, and goddammit, I want this woman so badly it almost physically hurts.
She lets go of my wrists to unzips my pants and yank them open. She slips my hard-as-a-rock cock out of my boxers and starts to take it her mouth; except, she pauses.
More teasing.
I lean my head back and groan in anticipation.
Then she takes me.
Her tongue works around the head of my penis, pulling me deep in her mouth, before bringing it out and teasing again. I squirm as she keeps bringing me to the edge and then backing away. She manages to get my pants and boxers off my legs without ever taking her warm, wet mouth from my cock. I need to touch her. I reach down to fondle her breasts over her shirt as she sucks on me. But, with her mouth still around my dick, she mutters “mm-mm,” which sends vibrations of pleasure all through me, before she removes my hands from her chest.
No touching.
I literally fucking growl with desire.
Once more, she takes me to the brink, but I’m not ready to finish this yet.
I lift her chin, taking her mouth from my cock. She knows what I want. Even as we kiss again, she hoists up her skirt and straddles me. I finally slip deep inside her and we both moan. She tears my shirt off and begins to rock back and forth, shifting her rhythm to keep us both in ecstasy. Together, we unbutton her shirt, and she throws it aside, now riding me harder and harder.
With one of my hands, I pull down one of the cups of her bra. I put my mouth to the exposed, erect nipple. My other hand slinks to her back, and in one move, undoes the clasps of her bra. I yank it off her and she presses herself against me. She starts to roll down the thigh-highs, but I stop her. They turn me on.
The feel of our nearly naked bodies brings us a new thrill. She’s gasping and moaning as she bounces on me. I start matching her, move for move, pushing deeper every time. She’s running her hands through her hair, sucking on her own fingers as my hands press against her breasts, before I move them aside so I can lick and suck on them again.
It’s like we can’t touch enough of each other’s – and our own – bodies. Like we need the ecstasy to happen everywhere at once.
What ensues next is some of the most acrobatic sex I’ve ever had in my life. The woman is a firestorm.
We’re on the floor, on a plush carpet, which adds its own sensations to the experience. Still inside her, I turn her legs so they’re to the side, allowing me to push even deeper. She moans in appreciation.
I lie on my side, slowing our rhythm to a more sensual pace. My hands move from her breasts to her taut belly, occasionally slipping to her clit to add to the stimulation…
We’re shifting positions again. She throws one of those thigh-high stockinged legs over mine, giving her more control of the pace, which she speeds up. Her heel digs into the back of my thigh to guide me. She wants it faster and faster.
“Oh God, Roger,” she moans.
“Natalie, Natalie,” escapes from my lips in response.
She comes with a great big moan, and I feel the sudden wetness slide over me. But I’m not done yet…
She’s on her knees as I enter her from behind. I hold her hips and set the rhythm as her ass slaps against me in a delicious manner. She holds herself up with one hand, playing with her clit with the other. Occasionally, one of her fingers slips back to tease my balls. It sends shivers up my spine.
In another moment, I’m against the wall and she’s sucking me off before standing and putting me inside her. I grab one of her legs under the thigh to lift, thrusting deep inside her with every inch I’ve got. Our rhythm now is fierce, our eyes locked on one another with passionate intensity as we groan and grunt with uncontrolled ferocity…
Finally, we’re on the bed, and she’s on her back with those stockinged legs over my shoulder. There’s no turning back now as we both unleash whatever passionate fires we’ve got left. I suck on her nipples and she grips my hair, letting out cries of erotic joy.
“Oh God, oh God!” she calls.
“Yes, Jesus, yes!” I moan.
Then all I can do is concentrate on the wave of passion that’s about to crash down around us. We’re each in our own worlds of near oblivion as we finally come together. Our bodies tremor with the release. I swear even my fucking bones rattle inside me. I fling every ounce of lust, desire and passion for this woman deep into her.
Her legs fall to the sides as I collapse on top of her. Both our bodies are slippery with sweat. She wraps her arms around me, hugging me close. We pant for air.
For a moment, nothing exists except our bodies. The passion slowly recedes from a raging inferno, to a gentle fire, to glowing embers somewhere in our centers. It provides us with a nice after-glow.
Several minutes later, we’re in the shower for what’s supposed to be a cooldown and clean-up, but I get hard again as she rubs soap on my dick. We rinse away the suds and end up making love as we stand there with the water cascading down on us.
This time, it’s a slow, even pace the whole way. Simple.
Our kisses now are soft and gentle. In short order, we both orgasm again, but, quietly, staring deep into each other’s eyes…
Eventually, we’re naked and laying on her bed as we finish the wine. We barely talk, just trace each other’s bodies with our fingers, sharing the occasional kiss. Finally, she drains her glass and proudly announces, “Here’s to some phenomenal fucking.”
She settles back on her pillow and closes her eyes, a contented smile on her face.
“Mm,” I say, polishing off my own glass. I lean forward and kiss her thigh. “That’s all it was? Fucking?”
I’m surprised by the words even as I say them. I hesitate, not daring to look back at her.
“What would you call it?” she asks. Her voice sounds far away and throaty.
I stall for time by kissing my way up her body. Somewhere around her breasts, I mutter, “Epic lovemaking.”
“Sure…” she whispers. I look up at her then.
She’s asleep. Once again, here’s to the lady who conks out after sex before I do! I feel like I’ve discovered a unicorn.
There’s a little bit of wine left in the bottle, so I pour it into my glass and toss it back in one go. The
n I stand and look for my pants.
I should go, right? That’s how I do things.
It’s best to go.
My pants are there, by the couch, inside out from when she yanked them off me. I stare at them stupidly, like I can’t figure out what they’re for.
My gaze returns to Natalie in bed. Her breasts gently rise and fall as she slips deeper into sleep.
Stay, I hear a voice inside me say.
So, I do.
I slip into the bed beside her, pull the blanket up over both of us, and ease my head onto the pillow. For another moment, I watch her, sure she’s going to wake up in horror at what I’m doing and kick me out.
She keeps sleeping. I press my luck and sidle over a little, so our bodies touch.
Maybe it’s my imagination, but I think, even in her sleep, she pushes herself closer to me.
I stay there another moment with my eyes open. Her face as she sleeps is… lovely. That’s the only word I can come up. A face you might find only in dreams.
Finally, I allow my eyes close, letting my body sink into the bed and against her. As sleep overcomes me, I know that I’m in real danger of developing serious feelings for this woman.
For real.
Thirteen
Natalie
Mmm, I love the way the sunlight hits me in the morning. Some people would rather live in a cave, but I love to rise with the sun.
Wait. The sun?! Oh, shit, I’m late, I’m late!
I fling myself to the bedside table and lunge for my phone, and it’s… it’s… it doesn’t matter, does it? I blink wearily, adrenaline flushing away from my body. It doesn’t matter what time of day it is at all. I don’t have to go to work.
The thought makes me grimace, guilty about all I’d done to lead me here, but suddenly, my head clears. I don’t have to go to work… at all. I’m not late to anything. There’s no meeting to rush to, no fire to put out. Is it weird that this actually feels kind of liberating?
I set down my phone triumphantly, snuggling back in to enjoy my sunrise. The bed feels warm and cozy.