by Lux,Vivian
"I won't be able to concentrate."
"Aren't you used to paparazzi?"
"Not while I'm, er, doing my thing."
She laughed and snatched the phone from my hand. "Say cheese."
I suckled her breast greedily, and her laugh turned into a gasp. She arched her back upward, but still managed to make a flash go off in my face.
"Obviously I need to incapacitate you further," I grumbled. "
"How are you going to.... oh!" Her eyes went wide as I slipped my hand down the front of her yoga pants. She was already slick and hot, and I could feel how tight she was even before I slipped my finger inside. "Oh..." her head lolled back and her grip loosened on my phone. I snatched it back and took several shots of her face as I moved my finger in lazy circles, capturing the way her eyelids fluttered and her lips parted.
"Jesus Zoe," I was fucking torn between the need to touch every inch of her skin and the need to capture every expression on her face. I wanted to talk to her, tell her what she was doing to me and demand that she tell me how good this felt, but I also wanted to put my tongue inside of her and see if she tasted as good as she felt. I wanted to lick her all over but also fuck her into oblivion. There wasn't enough time to do all of what I wanted to do and so, with a groan of frustration, I flung the phone to the ground and yanked her pants down.
"Low, I'm not, you don't have to...."
"Yes. I fucking do," I growled against her thigh, and her protests died into a gratifyingly incoherent babble the second my tongue found her clit. I wanted to take a picture of this, how beautiful she looked from this angle. The way her body splayed out across the hood of the car, the way she lifted her legs and twined them around my shoulders, pulling me closer with her knees while bracing against me with her hands. That push and pull, her shyness fighting against her need. I let her strain and grind against me until I'd had enough. "My turn," I told her, pressing the flat of my hand against her belly, gently pinning her in place.
"Jesus, Low," she babbled, her fingers scrabbling over the hood of the car for something to grab. With nothing else to cling to, she sank her grasping hands into my hair and held on to me. The scratching fierceness of her clawing grip ignited an even hotter fire inside of me, and I kissed and sucked and licked until her grip tightened even harder.
The orgasm took her by surprise. I could tell by the way her thighs quivered against my cheek. She arched forward, trying to buck away from my tongue, but I held her tightly to me, wreaking out these savage little cries that nearly sent me over the edge. I wanted to hear them again, see if she sounded different once she was no longer shocked that I could make her come. I knew what she needed now. I knew she liked tight, focused little circles. I knew she didn't want to be teased and tortured. I knew she liked my hand on her breast, squeezing and tweaking. I knew she liked to hold on to my hand, my forearm, my bicep. I knew that she went silent and strained, her whole body quivering slightly as if she wanted nothing to distract her from the peak she was climbing. I knew this now, so the second time she came even harder and by the third time she cried out, I gave her everything I had and she choked out a triumphant, gasping laugh.
"Holy shit," she moaned. "I think I just blacked out there for a second."
"You sure do know how to make a guy feel appreciated," I grinned, leaning over and kissing her, hard.
Her fingers closed around my length, stroking through my jeans. "I'd like a chance to show my appreciation too," she murmured, eyes half closed.
I hesitated. Fuck, the thought of her mouth around me, the little humming noises I knew she'd make, those big brown eyes looking up at me in adoration.... yeah I really wanted that, except...
"Next time, baby," I told her.
Her smile faltered for a second, and then grew wider, and I had to look away before I spoiled this, the most perfect moment of all. The one where we both knew we'd be doing this again.
Chapter 15
Zoe
"Next time, baby."
God, his voice when he said that....
Low had a way of...stating things. The facts, as he saw them. And the way he stated them, you knew for certain that he was telling the truth.
I'd never met a guy who could make me feel so...secure, with what he said.
When he told me I was beautiful, I fucking believed him.
When we said goodnight after the most amazing first date in the history of dating, I fucking believed him when he said we were doing this again.
When he leaned over at a stoplight and told me that he couldn't wait to find out if the sounds I made when he was kissing my pussy were different from the sounds I made when he was fucking me, I fucking believed he couldn't wait.
Because I couldn't wait either.
I trusted he meant what he said, and he said he wanted to see me again as soon as he could. That he'd text me the second he knew his schedule. And so, even though part of me wanted to obsess and worry about every little detail, to call up Jason and dissect the particulars - Why was he so desperate to be somewhere quiet? Why didn't we go out for a normal dinner and a movie type of date? Why was I so relieved that we'd skipped all that? Why was I okay with...everything? But why didn't he fuck me when he so clearly wanted to? - I wanted to try to be okay with having this be just something just for me.
No dissection. No friendly peanut gallery. No wise parental input.
Just...me being okay with...me. Not just okay. A perfect fantasy come to life.
*****
One dream led perfectly into another the next morning as I listened to my voicemail a third time just to be sure.
"This is Xavier Gaines from UltraMarine Publishing. We've received your application for the position...."
I let the phone slip down from my ear and beamed. An interview. Finally. After all of this time. And even better, they wanted me to come in right away. Today at eleven, as a matter of fact!
I drafted my ancient pair of Spanx into active duty and managed to stuff my sadfat into the black pencil skirt that had betrayed me before. "Take that," I yelled, scowling into the mirror. The sadfat had squished upwards, but that's what empire-waisted blouses are made for, right? At least I think that's what Jason told me. I lifted my fist in triumphant salute at my dressed and made-up reflection. For a second, I wished there was someone home to cheer me on, but Mom and Greg were both at work and Max was in school.
No matter, I had this. I was doing this.
That feeling of triumphant confidence lasted exactly as long as it took for me to negotiate crosstown traffic and locate the dank, damp basement offices of UltraMarine. The waiting room had a musty, dusty smell and microscopic bits of moisture clung to the hairs on my arms.
How the hell can a place be this dank in California? I wondered. I felt like I was in a cave. The receptionist sure looked like a cave dweller. Preternaturally pale, with white blonde, wispy hair, she looked out from under her too long bangs and blinked her wide, watery eyes one time, then stared at me like a carp.
"Um, Zoe Chandler?" I said, clearing my throat. "I'm here to see Mr. Gaines?"
She kept staring at me. Then slowly, slowly, like a sloth, or someone moving underwater... in molasses... upstream... she turned in her swivel chair until her back was fully to me and clicked over to an Outlook calendar on an ancient desktop computer.
I started looking around for the hidden cameras. Was this a prank? Had I stumbled onto some set for a new reality TV series? "Job Hunter’s Jail?" "Laid-Off Laughs?" "Keeping up with the Unemployed?" I could see the time blocked off for my interview right there on the screen. I mean...I couldn't see my actual name in the block, but the time was clearly marked off for something.
But the receptionist shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said. Even her voice was thick and phlegmy. She cleared her throat with a watery cough. "But Mr. Gaines is in a meeting."
"Yes," I said, plastering a bright smile on my face. "I believe that meeting is supposed to be with me? I'm interviewing for the assistant editor p
osition? He called this morning? Left a message?" I couldn't seem to keep the question marks off the end of my sentences. I was turning into a Valley Girl out of sheer stress.
She gave me another fishy blink. "No, I'm sorry. He's not in."
"You're kidding me."
"I'm sorry."
"Mr. Gaines left me a message this morning at 8:39AM," I said, whipping out my phone and waving it in her face. Panic was dumping buckets of adrenaline in my veins, causing me to talk too fast and overshare. "I only didn't answer because I was in the shower. I know it seems kind of late but I had to wait for my mom to finish in the bathroom and then my stepdad he needed to get in there and...." I clamped my mouth shut. Shut up, Zoe.
The receptionist blinked at me, managing to convey a whole host of emotions in just the closing of her eyelids. The one she was conveying right now was boredom.
My cheeks heated up. "I can play you the message right now."
She blinked again, but this time, it looked less bored and more sympathetic. She leaned forward and dropped her voice. "I believe you," she whispered. "But, that's like, totally something Mr. Gaines would do. He probably forgot he even called you." She giggled like this was all a colossally funny joke. "I mean, one time? He double booked a dinner with his wife at the same time as a dinner with his mistress. At the same restaurant."
I wrinkled my nose. Mr. Gaines sounded like a massive douchebag. Don't take just anything, Jason's voice sounded in my head. But I need a job! my brain protested.
"So let me ask you," I said, leaning over the slightly damp Formica counter and matching her conspiratorial whisper. "Is Mr. Gaines a good boss? You know, for when I do the interview?"
She tossed her pale hair over her shoulder. "Oh yeah sure. He gives good presents."
"Presents?"
"Yeah, totally. The first dress he bought me was too small, because he'd misjudged the size of my tits, but once we got that figured out, he's been right on the money ever since." She smoothed her pale hand down, and I couldn't help but recoil at the sight of her tight-fitting, Lycra dress. I could see now that it ended mid-thigh.
It was my turn to blink. "I see," I stammered, trying not to betray how badly I wanted to puke. "Well thank you very much and sorry for wasting your time."
"Did you want to sit and wait for him? Sometimes he gets out of these things early."
"Um, thank you but no. I can call and reschedule with him."
She blinked her acceptance of this answer and turned back to the ancient computer.
Walking out of there, I held my head high for as long as I could. But I felt low. Lower than I had ever felt before. The weight of everything - failure, fear - it all rested directly on my shoulders, dragging me down so hard bent nearly double.
I collapsed into the driver's seat of my car. I was a human black hole, collapsing into myself. I wanted to cry, but I was too numb for tears. I just felt heavy.
Without knowing what I was doing until I was doing it, I looked down.
My phone was already in my hand, my thumb swiping through the menus until I found them. The pictures Low took of me last night.
The ones that made me feel beautiful.
I switched the camera around.
Licking my lips, I thought for a moment, then nodded.
I unbuttoned my blouse and tugged it off. Then I pulled the strap of my camisole down, letting it slide off my shoulder and puddle around my elbow.
The rise of my breast spilled upward. I tugged the strap a little further down.
Then I took the picture and hit send.
Chapter 16
Low
"No."
I actually said no when I saw it.
Then I looked at it even more closely.
"What are you looking at, Twi-er-Low?" Rane tried to peer over my shoulder.
I cupped my hand protectively over the screen. "Get the fuck away."
"Well then," Rane laughed. "Keep your spank bank to yourself, I guess." He crossed the length of the room, muttering. "Rude."
"Fuck off." I snarled.
Then I looked up at him, aghast. In all the years I've been playing with Rane, I don't think I'd ever told him to fuck off.
He looked as surprised as I felt.
I shook my head. Where the hell had that come from? "Sorry man."
"No, it's cool. I'd kick your ass if you were trying to look over my shoulder after Maddie sent me a nude." His eyebrows went up. "One of your weekly specials?"
"Nah." I looked again. "Least... I hope not."
Rane made a noise.
I looked back down. The stirring, gathering feeling in my groin, that was nothing new.
What was different was the feeling I had everywhere else.
Light, happy, fucking happy. Because she sent this to me, knowing how happy it would make me. Our little game, the one that we played together. The pictures we took, the things we shared....
Maybe things weren't on their way to getting fucked up just yet. There was still time, time to play a little longer. That feeling, was it, relief?
Yeah. I was fucking relieved.
Rane and the rest of the band were finalizing shit with Keith for a special appearance we were scheduled to make this weekend. One show, five songs, it was going to be easy. Nothing I needed to pay attention to. Besides, I had better things to do with my time.
Like finding a private place so I could call Zoe back.
I abruptly stood up and left the conference room. Pepper gave me the eyeball, but I knew exactly how far I could push it with her. If she wasn't yelling at me, then I wasn't worrying.
The men's room down the hall was a single room, with a chair in one corner and a twee little Japanese fountain in the other. The dribbling water in the fountain sounded exactly like someone pissing, which I guess was supposed to mask any untoward sounds that might come from this room. I hated it. But the door locked behind me, and that was the important thing.
I sat down in the weird little chair and turned my back on the toilet. I was so fucking excited my hands were shaking.
She answered on the second ring, a breathless little "Hi." She sounded sweet on the phone.
I wasn't in the mood for sweet. Not after seeing that picture she'd just sent.
"You like it when I look at you?" I asked.
Instantly her voice dropped. "Yeah," she breathed, managing to make a single syllable sound sexy.
"You want to see what I see." I wasn't asking questions.
There was a sharp intake of breath. "Yeah."
I leaned back, rocking the chair against the wall. I had time to myself for the first time in two years, with nothing coming up on our calendar except for a festival appearance next week. I could be around for a while. I could do this without hurting her by leaving. So I felt no guilt at all when I closed my eyes and pictured her, splayed out on my bed, her hair pooling across the pillow like a spilled liquid. I clenched my fist as I pictured her breasts, perfectly exquisite in my mind. "I see you on my bed," I started.
"Yeah?" Her voice was eager. "What am I doing on your bed?"
"You're rolling around."
"Why?"
"Because I just made you come so hard you can't take it."
She exhaled. "I could take it."
"You think so? What if I spread those thighs of yours and just ate you for hours? Could you take that?"
"I'd give it my all, yeah."
"You're a trooper."
"I am aren't I." She sounded proud and it made me laugh. "What else are you seeing?"
I grinned. "Not gonna lie. Your tits are phenomenal."
"I know. You told me."
"And it was the truth. I know this for sure. I'm a tits connoisseur."
She paused for a moment. My phone made an odd beeping sound. "Zoe? You there?"
Her voice was high and breathless. "Check your texts."
I exited my call screen and went over to my messages. One from Zoe. A picture.
"Jesus," I exhaled.
>
"You like?"
"I do."
"Were you right?"
"I was wrong, they're not phenomenal. They're unreal."
"Show me something, Low."
I stared at the picture she had just sent me. She was holding her phone down near her stomach, aiming through the valley of her breasts right up to her face. Her head was tilted to the side, her lip firmly gripped in her teeth. "I want to take a picture of you from this angle, Zo."
"What angle?"
"Between your legs like this. I want to see you like this in real life."
"You did," she reminded me. As if I could forget.
"You were standing. I want you spread out, Comfortable."
"On your bed?"
"On my bed." I swallowed hard. I was quickly losing it, feeling myself getting dizzier, falling, falling for this girl. One-week Woe was losing his mind. I tried to rein myself in. I couldn't fuck her over. I had to be so fucking careful.
She didn't know anything about my angst, though. She was making a little gasping, kitten-y noise and...
"Are you?"
"I'm thinking about it. Pretending it's you that's touching me here. Thinking about your tongue."
"Shit, yes. You're touching yourself?"
"Touch yourself too, Low. I want to hear you."
"Christ."
"Send me a picture, Low."
"What do you want to see?"
"What your face looks like right now. Pretend it's me down there between your legs," I could hear the wicked grin in her voice. "Since you wouldn't let me do it for real."
"Fuck," I pulled the phone back and snapped off a quick selfie and sent it without looking. My grip on my cock hardened. "You suck dick like a champ."
"I sure do," she sad, teasing, breathless. "How good am I right now?"
"So good, baby. You're so good." Christ I should not be doing this. I should not be jacking off to this girl, hearing the sounds she was making, bringing herself to the brink while she thought about me....