by Jessica Park
After I slide the dress over my head, I cross the floor slowly and turn my back to him. “Zip me?” I lift my hair.
“Of course.” He’s clearly trying to torture me because he smoothes his hands over my entire upper body before zipping my dress in the slowest possible manner.
I tilt my head back and lean into him. “Chris …”
“We have to go, or we’ll be late.”
I hate him right now. I hate that he has the self-control to get us out of the room, because I can damn well feel how turned on he is.
“Dinner better be really fucking good,” I say.
Chris drives us to the restaurant in his truck. We haven’t said it out loud, but it’s pretty obvious that we’ve agreed not to go out of our way to let on that our only real plans for the rest of the week are to have sex with each other.
The restaurant is modern and dimly lit with blue starburst lights. Sabin, Estelle, and Eric are seated at a large semicircle booth, and Sabin flies out of his seat when he sees me.
“Lady Blythe McGuire!” He rushes over to me and lifts me into the air in a hug. “I missed the hell out of you. What are you doing here?” He sets me down and holds me by the shoulders. “Wait. Is everything all right? You okay?”
“I’m fine. I just came back early and ran into Chris. Apparently, the Shepherds and I have excellent taste in hotels.”
He hugs me again. “C’mon. I’ll buy you a drink.”
He scoots me into the booth first so that I’m next to Eric, who hugs me, and Estelle on his other side air-kisses me. I love that we are in this fancy restaurant, and Sabin has on his cowboy hat. Chris sits next to his sister and takes a sip from her water glass. Everyone is tan and radiant looking, and I am blissfully happy because I am back where I belong.
“Our girl has returned early,” Sabin announces, “so now we have someone we are not related to who we can play with! Chris has been sick of us since New Year’s Eve, but I know you can counteract how boring we are. Right, Chris? Blythe is a lot more entertaining than us.”
I have to bite my cheek so that I don’t burst out laughing. I can’t even look at Chris.
“None of you are in the least bit boring,” I say. “You guys must have had an amazing trip. So tell me all the details! How was Hawaii?”
“Full of spectacular hard-bodied men,” Estelle says dreamily. She is, as usual, in full makeup and beautifully dressed in a taupe sweater that looks like cashmere.
Eric rolls his eyes. “That’s true. There were also other incredible views, though.”
I listen to them gush about the plush condo Chris rented for them, the impeccable beaches, the day hikes they took, and Chris and Sabin’s disastrous attempts to learn to surf.
“It’s true,” Chris says. “We sucked. I don’t think either of us stayed up on the board for more than two seconds.”
“It was still fun, though, right, Chris?” I love how Sabin looks at his brother. I think back to the fight on Thanksgiving night and how that could have ripped a family apart, or at the very least caused serious tears, but the adoration in Sabin’s eyes is unmistakable. He clearly looks up to Chris in so many ways, and I wish that James had a fraction of those same feelings for me. One day, one day. Maybe.
“Hey, we went back and surfed again the next day, didn’t we?” Chris gets a spark in his eyes. “You know, Blythe, there are really so many things that I want to do again… .” He sighs dramatically, and I resist kicking him under the table. Then he raises his glass to Sabin’s and nods in Eric’s direction. “And I’d like to give you two credit for your waterskiing success.”
Eric sighs. “Man, I could do that every day. Blythe, you would love it. Have you ever tried?”
I shake my head. “Nope. I’ve done a little sailing, but that’s it. Oh, and I can row a rowboat like nobody’s business.”
“Very impressive,” Estelle says, smiling. “I could sit in a rowboat and bark orders while a half-naked Hawaiian boy rows us to a deserted beach.”
“That’s enough out of you, young lady!” Sabin jokes. “My sister is not to be thinking anything indecent about boys. Not until you’re forty, Estelle.”
“Fine, fine. Blythe, have you enjoyed any new and exciting physical activities we should know about since we last saw you?”
I’m never going to make it through this dinner.
“Yes, tell us.” Chris jumps in. “Any new hobbies you’ve added to your repertoire?”
I clear my throat. “I think that I’ve got all I can handle as it is.”
“Yeah, so how’s the running going?” Eric asks.
He and I talk together for a bit, and he tries to entice me to enter one of the spring races in Madison. “You could totally do it! A five-K? Ten-K?”
“A ten-K!” I nearly shriek. “I can’t do that, Eric.”
“We’ll see,” he says.
Dinner is nonstop conversation and delicious food. I eat ceviche out of a martini glass and devour my scallop entrée, which comes with so many components I can hardly identify what I’m eating. But everything is outstanding. Eric feeds me a forkful of his polenta with basil and cream, and I can’t help groaning over how good it is. I also can’t help noticing with satisfaction that Chris shifts in his seat when I do so.
When they ask me about my trip home, I’m surprised to find myself giving more details than I would have expected. I even tell them about going to the Christmas Eve party at Lani’s and Tim’s and talking to Nichole about applying for an internship.
“Are you definitely going back to Massachusetts after graduation?” Estelle asks. “We’ll miss the fuck out of you if you do.”
Sabin throws his arm over my shoulder. “We would miss you, but this sounds like it could be cool. Besides, if it’s a magazine, maybe they have travel features, and you’d actually, you know, travel. To Hawaii! And need an assistant to carry your suitcases!”
“I’m sure you know just the person for the job.” It hits me that I only have four months left at Matthews before graduation. “I don’t know. A lot can happen in a few months.”
“A lot can happen in a few hours,” Chris adds all too casually. He takes the olive from his martini and winks at me as he pops it in his mouth. Relentless. He is relentless.
I cock my head and glare at him. “Are we getting dessert? I love dessert. Sabe, want to share something with me? I think I saw a cranberry torte thing that looked good. And coffee. Espresso, maybe.”
“Yeah,” Chris says under his breath, “Blythe’s definitely going to need an espresso.”
I clear my throat. “So, the torte?”
“Oh, I’m in! I love me some torte,” Sabin says as he rubs his belly. “What is a torte exactly? Why isn’t it a tart? Is a torte a subcategory of tarts? Why don’t all tarts taste tart?”
“Can we still order it even if we can’t classify it?” I ask.
“Definitely. Hey, B., do you want to come to the show we’re seeing tonight? I can probably get you a ticket still.”
“No. No, she can’t,” Chris says all too quickly.
Sabin frowns.
“I mean, Blythe was saying on the way here that she’s exhausted from her trip. You know, holiday nonsense and all.”
“Oh hell,” Sabin says under his breath. “No way. No, no, no.”
I glare at Chris again. He smiles at me and shrugs.
Estelle and Eric are busy scrolling through pictures on their phones and deciding which ones of Eric are the best to send to Zach, and they don’t notice anything.
When the bill comes, Chris refuses to take any money, which irritates me, but I’m not surprised. He does enjoy caretaking.
Sabin claps his hands together. “All right, little siblings. We have to run if we’re going to make the show. And Chris and Blythe need to get to the hotel so that they can get back to fucking each other to all hell.”
“Oh Jesus, Sabin!” Chris tosses up his hands.
“What in the world is going on?” Eric says. He and E
stelle have finally looked up from his phone.
I can’t even look at Estelle because she’s got the most satisfied grin on her face. “Well, fuckin’ finally, am I right?”
This is humiliating.
Sabin wraps his arms around my head, covering my face so that I can’t even see and fakes a soft sob. “My innocent little friend has been violated! Sullied!” He tickles me, and I nearly crash into Eric laughing.
When we all say good night, Eric lets our hug linger for a moment. I realize that he had very little visible reaction to Sabin’s outburst, and I wonder if he disapproves. I brush it off for now.
After we say good-bye to the three in the parking lot, Chris and I climb back in his truck. After just a few minutes of watching him drive, I can’t take it anymore. Just looking at his hands on the steering wheel is turning me on. God, I love his hands. The way he moves, the way his fingers find every spot on my body that gets me hot, the way he intuitively knows when to be gentle and slow … and when to push harder against me, to be strong and firm. Those hands do incredible things to me, and they’ve made me greedy.
I run my fingers through his dark hair and scratch my nails down the back of his neck. I can’t go another second without Chris touching me. I lift up slightly, hike up my dress, and slip my nylons down. I put one foot up on the dashboard. I lean back and open my legs before I take his hand in mine. I push my underwear to the side and set his hand on me.
“Put your fingers inside me,” I say. “Please.” I can barely talk.
“Like this?” he asks teasingly.
Very slowly, he eases one finger in. I close my eyes and put my hands up to my head. I can feel how ridiculously wet I am already, and he’s not even moving his hand. He’s just holding his finger inside me.
“Christopher, please,” I beg.
“Oh, you mean like this?” He briefly takes away his hand and then pushes hard against me, shoving two fingers deep inside. I moan, and he starts moving in and out, slowly and firmly. I have no idea how he can do this and drive, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the road.
“Is that what you wanted?” he asks.
I nod.
“And what about this?” I feel his fingers pull out and run over me a few times before he settles on my clit. “Did you want this, too?”
I moan as he starts to brush a finger over me. He presses a little harder, and I start gasping. The truck stops, but he leaves it running. Thank God we’re back at the hotel in the dark underground parking lot. Chris leans over to kiss me and switch hands, this time yanking my underwear down hard before rubbing me again. His tongue is in my mouth, and I think about how incredible it will feel later when he goes down on me.
I can’t believe that I’m going to come already, but his fingers are on just the right place.
However, I still plan on giving him crap for earlier.
I pull my lips away. “I’m still pissed at you,” I whisper.
He smiles at me and pushes his fingers back inside me. “I can tell.”
I whimper and start breathing harder, and my hands are gripping the back of the seat. He’s moving steadily inside and against me, and I come hard. If it didn’t feel so fucking good, I might be embarrassed at how loud I am. As it is, I couldn’t care less. My whole body shudders under his touch.
“I’m going to take you up to my room now and continue apologizing for not fucking you before dinner.”
“Yeah?”
“You good with that idea?” he murmurs while he kisses my neck.
“Mmmhmmm. And you can also apologize for baiting Sabin the way you did.”
His tongue is slick on my skin and the throbbing between my legs is relentless. “I did nothing of the sort.”
Now I can’t help laughing. “Yes, you did. You were like a dog pissing on a tree, marking your territory.”
“You don’t look anything like a tree.”
“I’m flattered. But that was not nice what you did. And it was unnecessary.” I push him up so that he’ll pay attention for a second. “Sabin is my friend; that’s it.”
He smiles. “I know that. I was being an ass. So now I really have some more apologizing to do, huh?”
Somehow we make it up to his hotel room. I hear him throw his wallet from his pocket into the room, and then he’s behind me, grinding against me. Listening to me get off has made him completely hard. His breath is hot on my neck while his hands unzip my dress and then find the hem, lifting it up over my head. I can feel how much he wants me now. I kick off my boots and he takes hold of the top of my nylons and underwear and kneels as he pulls them down. I feel him lick the curve under my ass as he helps me out of my clothes, and then he reaches up to unhook my bra.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Reflection
Our five days at the hotel pass insanely quickly, and before I feel ready, it’s our last night together. The next day we’ll be returning to campus. This will be over. I know that we’re not done and that there will be more to us, but for the moment, this time at the hotel with him is all I am ready to handle. Even so, I’m a bit shaken by how much I am dreading separating from him, even in just the physical capacity. Our friendship is solid and unwavering, I am sure, but I’m still edgy at the thought of this ending.
Virtually all that Chris and I have done at the hotel is make love. Or fuck. Whatever. We’ve gone slow and gentle, we’ve gone hard and rough. We’ve traded power back and forth. Sometimes he leads me, defining what we do, how we do it, and what the mood is. Sometimes I do. I have been relishing the chance to be in control, to make decisions for myself, to take what I need, and to give to someone else. So I am sore, very much so, and my entire body hurts, but in the most amazing way. My ability to connect physically, to feel sexual and sensual, is undeniable now. Chris has given that to me.
We’ve been in bed all day. I think both of us are conscious of the ticking clock. His brothers and sister stopped calling, and texting, and banging on the door two days ago.
Chris leans over me, kissing my chest and my stomach.
“How can you be this good?” I whisper. “It’s impossible.”
“If I’m good at all, it’s because of you. Because I want to give you everything.”
He lowers his kisses and bends up my legs. I know what he’s about to do, and I’m dying to let him do it, but there’s something I want first.
I move between his legs and take his cock in my hand. He is so hard, so perfect. I start moving slowly and then lean over and begin to slide him into my mouth. I keep my fingers around the base and press my tongue against him as I take him in fully. The taste of him is extraordinary. The taste is mine. When he’s wet and slick, I tighten my lips and begin to move up and down, doing what I’ve gotten good at over the past few days.
Chris groans loudly. “Fuck, your mouth is so hot. God …”
Hearing him say this makes me move faster. Tonight I’m to make him come in my mouth. It’s something that we haven’t done completely yet because the lure of having sex has always taken over, but right now I desperately want this. I’m moving my hand up and down in rhythm with my mouth as he shifts under me, and I love how it feels to blow him. Soon his hands are in my hair, and his breathing quickens.
“I can’t last like this, Blythe. You’re too good … God, you’re too good.”
I don’t need him to last because there is no way that I’m letting him stop me this time. And I know for sure that this isn’t going to put him out of commission for the night. I start sucking on him faster, harder. I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.
His hands are tight in my hair now, moving up and down with my head, and I can tell by the sounds he’s making that I have him on that same edge where he puts me. I slow down a bit to keep him there because I want him blind with pleasure.
I love it. I love making Chris feel like this. I feel him clench his muscles as he pushes a little farther into my mouth. Then he is saying my name, and I taste him, I drink him in, totally turned on and hig
h from being able to satisfy him like this. When his groaning has subsided, when he’s fully done, I kiss my way breathlessly up his muscled chest, and before I even reach his mouth, he flips me onto my back and starts kissing my neck.
“That was …” I feel him shake his head. “There are no words.”
His tongue makes its way over my body. He moves his lips across my inner thigh, and I can feel my legs start to shake because I know what his tongue is about to do to me. “I love making love to you,” he tells me. “Your body feels so damn good.” Then his mouth is between my legs. I reach down to find his hands, and I take them in mine. I close my eyes while he does what he does so well.
Every little touch of his lips, his fingers, his tongue … Everything he does makes me want more of him. Just when I’m getting close, he stops and pulls away. Chris sits back on his legs and sets my hands on my own body. He watches while he moves my hands for me, over my stomach and my breasts, tracing the path that he kissed moments ago. Then he puts my own hands between my legs. I rub a finger against myself while Chris takes a condom from the bedside table. He moves one hand to put the tip of his cock against me and puts the other hand back over mine so that he can feel me make myself come. Which I do. Or, rather, we do. And just when I start, just at that moment when I feel everything begin to release, he slides inside. He leans over me now, moving his hips just slightly while I tighten around him over and over. As loud as I’ve been tonight, I can’t make a sound now. Feeling him inside me like this consumes me.
I tuck up my knees and pull him deep into me. He lifts up just enough so that we can look at each other. “God, Blythe,” is all he can manage to say.
He looks more lost in this—maybe in me—than he has until now, and it’s momentarily disarming. But I want to try something, so I lift up my leg and push against him, cuing us to roll over so that I can be on top. Another thing that we haven’t gotten around to trying yet.