by Whitney G.
I’m too elated to be upset right now, but once this euphoria wears off, the “wham, bam, thank you, ma’am” realization may hurt a little.
On my back, I scoot across the mattress until my head hits the headboard. I’m about to shut my eyes and replay what just happened, but I feel Blake sliding into bed next to me.
He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me on top of him. “Does that take care of numbers five and eight?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t have an orgasm.”
“You had four.”
I blush. “Yes…That should um, take care of those numbers.”
“Good to know.” He smiles and brushes a strand of hair away from my face. “Are you sore?”
“A little.”
Kissing my lips, he grabs my hand and slides it down his thigh—placing it onto his hardened cock.
I gasp as he uses my hand to rub it up and down.
“Now that I’ve fucked you your way, can I fuck you using mine?”
My eyes widen. I’m honestly not sure if I can go another round with him, especially if it’s anything half as intense.
“It’s not.” He’s getting good at reading my mind. He reaches over to the nightstand and pulls out a condom, handing it to me.
I take my time unwrapping it, avoiding his eyes even though I can feel him staring at me. I sit up and place it over him, trying to think of something to say in this moment, but there’s no use.
The second I’m done, he grabs me and rolls me on top of him. Slightly lifting me up by my waist, he positions me over his cock and I slowly sink onto him.
I moan once he’s entirely inside of me and place my hands against his chest to steady myself.
He holds my waist still so I can’t move, and then he caresses my face. “Go slow.”
As his hands move away, I start to rock against him—never breaking eye contact, never wanting to.
He slides a hand around my neck and pulls my head down to his, slowly kissing me. Gently biting my bottom lip, he groans as I start to move a little faster.
“Slow, Paris.” He lets go of my lip and cups one of my breasts—circling my nipple with his tongue.
I can’t go slow with him. He feels too good.
He trails his tongue to my other breast and grips my hips—preventing me from moving as fast as I want to.
“Blake…”
He looks into my eyes as he moves me up and down his cock, ignoring my pleas to speed things up.
“Why are you in such a rush?” He holds me still after bringing me back down, after he’s completely inside of me. “Does this not feel good?”
“Yes.” I try to move myself back up, but his grip is too strong. “Yes…”
“We already fucked your way, didn’t we?” He sits up—keeping me still, keeping us entwined. “Isn’t it my turn?”
“Blake, please.” I feel him slightly moving me up—teasing me.
“Please what?” His hand caresses my back. “Fuck you faster?”
I nod, but he doesn’t oblige. He presses his mouth against my neck—softly biting my skin whenever I say his name.
He rocks me against his cock again and I start to tremble—start to quiver in anticipation of a release, but each time I get close, he stops and kisses my lips instead.
“Please.” I murmur as he runs his fingers through my hair.
Kissing me, he finally lets my waist go and I wrap my arms around his neck.
I grind my hips into his, letting the tremors build and build—letting his lips continue to make love to my mouth.
“Ohhh Godddd.” My skin slaps against his one last time and I lose all control. “Blake …”
I fall forward, knocking us both to the mattress. I can hear him saying words, but I can’t understand them over my heavy breathing.
Seemingly concerned, he lifts me off him and lays me on the other side of the bed.
“Paris?” He sweeps sweaty strands of hair away from my forehead. “Are you okay?”
I try to say, “Fuck yes,” but everything goes black.
My body is sore. Beyond sore.
I can barely feel my legs, my arms are weary, and the skin on my neck is reeling from all the sensual bites Blake placed there.
I don’t want to get up for the rest of the day. I just want to lie here—against Blake’s chest, and relive every single second of last night.
I’ve never been fucked like that. Ever.
I suddenly feel his hands rubbing my back and my eyes flutter open.
“Good morning.” He smiles.
“Good morning.”
He pulls me close and kisses my forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”
I nod.
Gently, he slides his hands to my hips and pulls me even closer. “Did you have any plans in mind for today?”
“Has the snow magically gone away?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t have that many options, do I?”
“I have an idea.” He traces my lips with his fingers.
“I’m sure you do.”
“It’s not what you think it is.”
“Oh.” I’m sad that it isn’t.
“I’m going to make you breakfast while you shower, and then I’m going to take you somewhere.”
“Aren’t the roads still bad?”
“They are.” He rolls out of the bed. “Go shower.”
“Alone?” I gasp once I realize that I’ve said that aloud.
“Yes, alone.” He looks over my body. “If I shower with you, we won’t get anything else done today.”
I’m not sure why that’s such a bad thing, but I don’t get a chance to ask him about it. By the time I realize that he’s serious about me taking a shower alone, he’s left the room.
I lift myself up from the bed and make my way into the bathroom—smiling at every muscle ache that I currently feel. I’m not sure how I manage to get into his shower, but I’m honestly incapable of doing anything past turning on the water.
I stand still and let the streams fall over me—sighing every few minutes, asking myself if staying with him for a few more days would ruin anything. I’ve had more fun with him these past few days than I had with Adrian in the last three years combined.
As the glass begins to fog, I shut my eyes and hold my face under the water for what feels like forever. I don’t want to think about anything but last night, and I honestly hope that all Blake has planned is a repeat.
I’m replaying the part where he kissed me against the wall, when I feel hands cupping my breasts from behind.
I immediately open my eyes and turn around to see Blake.
“I thought you said no to showering together?”
“I changed my mind.” He covers my lips with his and pushes me against the wall. “I’m going to fuck you again.”
He tries to lift my leg around his waist, but I don’t let him. I tear my lips away from his mouth and start to plant kisses against his chest.
As he threads his fingers through my hair, I move my kisses down to his abs, then to his stomach.
I look up at him as I gently rub his cock, as I tease his tip with my tongue—listening to the light groans that are escaping from his mouth.
“Paris…”
I swirl my tongue all around him, ignoring how roughly he’s pulling my hair.
“Fuck.” He yanks me up and spins me around, pressing my breasts against the tile. “I’ll take you out tomorrow.”
Ten
Three days left.
That’s it.
That’s all I have left with Blake and for some reason, I’m dreading saying goodbye. I figure he must be dreading it as well, because he’s been asking me what it’ll take for me to stay every chance he gets.
He’s told me to wear something casual so he can take me out again, so I’m wearing jeans and a red T-shirt.
As I look over myself in the mirror, my phone rings. David.
“Hello?”
“Am I interrupting another pussy-licking session or are you able to talk?”
“I’m able to talk.” I roll my eyes. “But only for a few minutes. He’s taking me out tonight. Again.”
“Of course, he is.” He laughs. “Could you do me a favor and call your mom, please? She’s been calling me every hour on the hour because you have yet to call her back. It’s been over a week, Paris. Don’t you find that a bit irresponsible on your part?”
I frown. I’ve ignored every other person that’s called me since I came here; I don’t want to face the drama that’s waiting for me at home any time soon.
“I don’t want to talk to her, David. Or anyone else for that matter. They all just want me to apologize to Adrian and take him back. I can’t do that.”
“Wow.”
“Wow, what?”
“Nothing, I just—” He pauses. “I believe that you won’t take him back this time.”
“And why is that?”
“Normally, whenever you argue with him and ‘break-up’, you say ‘I won’t’ go back to him but you always do. It’s quite refreshing to hear you say, I can’t.” He sounds extremely proud. “Letting go of him was long overdue, but I’m looking forward to seeing you happy again.”
“Thanks a lot, David,” I say. “Can I tell you something?”
“Does it involve what I think it involves?”
“We had sex the other night.” I have to tell him this. He has to know. “More than once! And it was rough and hot, and it was good! Like, so amazingly good!”
“Paris…”
“I didn’t want him to ever stop! It was just—I’m getting wet just thinking about it. It was like one of those stories you tell me about your hot one night stands, but it was me. It was me, David! And guess what else?”
“What else, Pear Pear?”
“His cock is huge.”
He sighs loudly.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to go down on him because I didn’t think it’d fit into my mouth, but it did! And I think he enjoyed how far it was down my throat. Like, at first he was telling me to suck him slow so—”
There was a loud and sudden beep on the other end.
“David?” I listen for him. “David? David, are you there?” I look at my phone and see that he’s sent a text:
Love you Pear, Pear. Glad you’re having fun. Call me when you don’t want to talk about another man’s cock.
Laughing, I place the phone into a drawer. I’m not going to use it again until its time to leave; I want to focus on the remaining time I have left with Blake.
“Paris?” Blake steps into the room. “Are you ready?”
I nod and he helps me into my jacket. Clasping my hand, he walks me through his house and into the garage.
“Blake, the roads are still bad. Why are we getting into your car?”
He doesn’t answer. He just motions for me to sit in the passenger seat.
As soon as he gets behind the wheel, he cranks the engine and turns on the heat. “Are you comfortable?”
“Do you have a death wish, Blake?” I cross my arms. “Because I don’t. You heard the newscasters say that the roads aren’t completely salted yet.”
“We’re not taking any roads.”
“We’re just going to sit here?”
“Not exactly.” He leans over and kisses me, pulling up the emergency brake. “I’m going to kiss you until you can’t breathe, and then I’m going to fuck you in the backseat.”
“This is what you consider a date?”
“I never said this was a date.”
“You said you were taking me out.”
“Out as in outside. Are we not outside?”
As much as I want to punch him in the face right now, I can’t help but laugh. “You are something else. Do you know that? This is probably why you’ve never had a girlfriend.”
“If I had one, she would always drink during Never Have I Ever, because I would make sure that we’d kiss and have sex everywhere.” He caresses my cheek with the back of his hand. “I would never be patient enough to wait for privacy.”
I blush and he kisses me again, moving to my side of the car. Whispering, he slowly unzips my jacket. “Is there anything I can say to make you stay for another week?”
I shake my head.
“Are you sure?”
I suck in a breath and murmur, “Yes,” as he unclips my bra.
“Well in that case—” He unfastens my jeans. “Let’s see if there’s something I can do instead.”
Eleven
I don’t want to leave Washington. Ever.
I want to stay here and have sex with Blake all day, every day, but I know that’s impossible. Unrealistic.
What happened between the two of us over this past week and a half is something I’ll always remember, but something I can’t let last.
The storm is over, and he has a firm to run.
I have a life to rebuild. Sooner rather than later.
Maybe that’s why neither of us has said a word to each other this morning, and the glances we’ve stolen from one another haven’t lasted for more than a second.
I’m not sure how many times I’ve double checked my bag—knowing that I definitely have everything. I’m just stalling because this isn’t as easy as I thought it would be.
Earlier this morning, when we woke up, Blake had left me one last gift on the nightstand. It was a small grey box and inside were two items: A flight ticket to Nashville that was scheduled to leave in four days with the words, “Stay,” written across the top. And a small charm—a small silver plane with the words “You’re in my seat” etched onto its wings.
I’d wanted to take them both, to tell him “okay” to me staying, but I couldn’t do it. Instead, I slipped the charm onto my bracelet and wrote the words, “I can’t” on the flight ticket.
“I’m ready now,” I say when I walk into the living room.
“Okay.” He stands up from the couch and takes my bag from me, leading the way to the garage. He looks over at me once before he pulls off, saying, “I enjoyed every second that you were here.”
“Me, too.”
We don’t talk on the way to the airport. There’s nothing to say.
I look over at him every chance I get, trying to make sure I memorize his every feature, and every time he looks at me I pretend as if I wasn’t staring.
When we make it to the airport, he grabs my bag and opens my door—walking me inside like a complete and total gentleman.
Taking my bag from him, I avoid eye contact. “Thank you so much for letting me stay with you, Blake. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And the sex was okay.”
He places his fingers underneath my chin and tilts my head up. “Okay?”
“Do I need to define the word for you?”
He slips his arms around my waist and presses his lips against mine. “I’m sure you’ll still be thinking about how ‘okay’ it was weeks from now.”
“Maybe.”
Hugging me a little tighter, he sighs. “What’s the worst that could happen if you stayed with me for four more days?”
I open my mouth to say, “Nothing” but I pause. “Feelings.”
Not seeming to understand the ramifications behind that, he kisses my forehead—whispering, “I wouldn’t mind that.” And then he lets me go.
I turn around and walk away from him, but I stop and look over my shoulder.
He looks absolutely confused—torn, but he’s hiding it behind a smile.
I walk over to him again, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him like he’s kissed me so many times before. “Thank you for everything.”
“You’ve already told me that.” He pulls away and threads his fingers through my hair.
“So?”
“So, if you still plan on leaving me, I suggest you do it now because if you don’t, I’ll be dragging you back home w
ithin the next twenty seconds.”
“Goodbye, Blake.” I slowly let go of him and head towards the desk, looking back every few seconds—making sure he’s still watching me. Until he isn’t anymore.
For some reason, my chest is tightening, and I can’t help but feel like I’m making a huge mistake.
“Welcome back, Miss Weston,” the desk agent says as she hands me my boarding pass. “Have a safe flight.”
I look over my shoulder, telling myself that if Blake is still there, it must be some type of hopeless romantic sign, but he isn’t. No one is.
I make my way through security without incident. There are no random alarms, no TSA agents emptying and re-emptying my bag, and unfortunately, no one I’m in a rush to get away from this time.
By the time I make it to my gate, almost everyone has boarded.
“Enjoy first class, Miss Weston.” A woman scans my ticket, and I smile.
I’d told Blake that my ticket home was coach-class and that I didn’t need an upgrade, but he’s done it anyway. I want to send him a text, to playfully berate him for going against what I said, but I can’t.
I don’t want him to get the wrong impression.
We’ve already said goodbye.
As I buckle my seatbelt, I look outside my window. I’m halfway expecting Blake to come on board at any second, to say, “I’ve decided I want to fuck you in Nashville, too,” but no one takes the seat next to me.
“Ladies and gentlemen aboard flight number 3718, the main cabin doors will be closing in two minutes.”
I tap my foot in anticipation, still holding on to the same hope.
“The main cabin doors have officially been closed. Please stow away all personal electronic devices until we reach the proper altitude.”
I shut my eyes and lean back in my seat. The second Blake’s face crosses my mind, I know for a fact that I’ve made a big ass mistake.
I could’ve stayed for four more days.
I bypass baggage claim and make my way to the escalators.
As the steps descend, I see David standing in line with the other sign holders. He’s written “Pear Pear” in red marker and drawn what appears to be a tongue and a vagina underneath it.