by Zeia Jameson
“No.” I kiss her neck again. “Not until just now.” I glide my hand up her back and down her chest. I whisper into her ear as my hand grazes the neckline of her blouse. “Is this okay? Do you want me to stop?”
“Please don’t stop, Luca.” I can hear the desire in her voice.
I slide my hand into her blouse. I run my fingers inside the cup of her bra.
Her breath hitches.
“Are you worried?” I ask. I remove my hand and turn her to face me. “If I undress you, are you worried about being spied on?”
Kerry slowly shakes her head while looking at me with a lustful gaze. She bites her bottom lip. I almost lose all control.
I move my hand down the front of her shirt. “I really want you naked right now. But if this is moving too fast, or if you don’t want to—”
“I want to. I need this. I need you.”
Without further hesitation, I grab the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head. Her honey-colored hair falls over her full green lace bra. I kiss her collarbone and work my way over to her shoulder. I slide down the strap with my hand and run the tip of my tongue down her arm. I move to the other shoulder and repeat the action. Kerry whispers my name each time. I reach around and feel for the back strap, find the clasp, and release her breasts from their constraints. I take a moment to look and appreciate them. I bring my gaze up. Kerry’s eyes are closed. I cup her face and bring my lips to her ear.
“Open your eyes.” I pull back to see her eyes almost sparkle with the moonlight set behind her. I run my thumb along the side of her face. “You are so beautiful.”
She smiles. That, coupled with her sparkling eyes, makes her absolutely irresistible. I kiss her hard. She wraps both hands around the back of my head. My tongue enters her mouth and dances with hers for a few moments. She moans into my mouth when I palm her breast and give it a tender squeeze. I pepper her jaw with kisses and trail my lips down to her neck, back to her collarbone, and land at her nipple. I take in a mouthful, sucking and swirling my tongue around its tautness. Kerry moans louder than before and tugs at my hair a little. I suck harder. She moans louder still.
If she moans this loud with nipple play, I can only imagine how loud she’ll get when I have my mouth between her legs.
Or when I’m inside her.
My cock grows harder. Didn’t think that was possible. I’m to the point of aching. I bring my hands to her face again. Kissing her lips, I guide her to the bed.
She rids me of my belt and unbuttons my jeans. I slide my hand from her breast down her smooth abdomen. She shudders slightly at my touch. We both toe off our shoes as I undo her jeans. I grab the back of my collar and remove my shirt.
We fall onto the bed together side by side. We kiss. Touch. Entangle ourselves.
I roll over so that she is beneath me. I kiss my way down her body until I reach the edge of her lacy panties that match her discarded bra. Pulling them off her body is almost too much for me to handle. I take a deep breath to get myself under control. I don’t want to ruin this moment.
I situate myself between her legs. I look up at her and she looks down at me, her eyes begging me to continue. I bury my face in her until she white-knuckles the sheets and screams my name so loud that I think people on the street might have heard her.
I reach over to the bedside table, open the drawer, and grab a condom. I slide it on and climb up her body, adding more kisses to her stomach, breasts, neck, and finally, her mouth. I kiss her hard as she clutches my hair, pushing her lips more into mine.
I groan and my cock twitches. I have to be inside her now, or I’ll blow for sure. I reach down, align myself with her, and push in slowly. Still kissing, she moans into my mouth and claws at my back. The slight pain from her fingernails excites me more. I push in again, slightly faster this time. I break our kiss and place my forehead against hers.
“You feel amazing,” I pant.
“So do you,” she replies.
I pick up my pace. Our breathing also quickens. When I kiss her near her collarbone, I can feel her heart racing, just as mine is. I palm her breast again and give her nipple another pinch before I reach down between us and make my fingers useful.
After only a few brief moments, Kerry’s chest begins to heave. I pick up my pace even more. She clutches the sheets again. “Oh my God, Luca.” I gently bite her nipple, and she screams. “Luca! Oh God!” Her body presses into mine as she attempts to arch her back. Then it falls back to the bed. A few more thrusts and I come harder than I think I ever have.
I kiss her glistening, beautiful, sweaty chest. Then I engulf her mouth with mine. I roll over onto my back after a few seconds, both of us attempting to catch our breath.
“Luca,” is all she says.
I reach for her hand and hold it for a few moments. Then I sit up and walk toward the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.”
As I clean myself up in the bathroom, I try not to think too much about the fact that sleeping with Kerry was by far the best sex I’ve ever had.
I try not to dwell on that at all.
Present Day
We lie next to each other, me gently running my fingers through her hair, her examining my tattoos.
“Who did your tattoos?”
“I drew them. Virgil did them.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“Do they represent something?”
“Not really. It took a few months to complete it all. I’d get a sudden inspiration and draw it out. The sketching and getting the tattoo are both kind of therapeutic in a way. I think that when I felt I needed a release from all the demons in my head, inspiration would come.”
Kerry follows the outlines of my tattoos with her index finger. Her fingers are soft. Her touch is smooth. “And I thought most guys just used masturbation to get a release.”
Her comment takes me by surprise. I laugh out loud. “I won’t lie. It certainly has its benefits. Sketching and tats soothe me in a completely different way.”
Kerry runs her hand over my chest. “I see.”
I turn my body and lie sideways to face her. “Tell me. Do masturbation and molding pottery have the same effect on you?” Her eyes grow wide and then narrow almost as quickly. She smiles. “Point taken.”
“Have you thought more about getting a tattoo?”
She strokes the ink on my arm again. “A little. But whatever I decide, I’m sure Virgil will do a fine job.” She giggles, and I jab her softly in the ribs to make her squirm.
“Seriously, though, I have thought about it. I think I’m going to go with the lotus.”
“I can sketch something out for you. If I meet your high standards, that is.”
She moves her hand down my chest and abs, allowing it to disappear under the sheets. She wraps her fingers around me. I am more than ready for a second round.
“You exceed my standards by far.”
I feel Kerry rustle beside me. I open my eyes to see her sitting on the edge of the bed, her naked back facing me. Her skin is flawless. I have an urge to touch her. I move toward her and reach out, but before my fingers make contact, she jumps up and scrambles for her clothes on the floor.
“Shit,” she whispers. I assume she doesn’t realize I’m awake.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
She clutches her clothes to her chest and looks at me, startled. “Oh my God, did I wake you up? I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t wake me. Don’t be sorry. But you look like you’re in a hurry. What’s going on?”
“Fucking Rachel.”
Great. Fucking Rachel is robbing me of my morning with Kerry somehow. “What did she do now?”
Kerry throws her top over her head and shimmies it down over her body. I didn’t realize watching a woman get dressed in a hurry was so hot. Her hair is still partially buried in her shirt, and I find that sexy as hell. I sit up in bed and clutch my covers at my waist. I don’t need her
knowing that her rushed panic is turning me on in any capacity.
She sits back down on the bed and struggles with the legs of her jeans.
“She’s left me twenty-two texts and a dozen voice messages. And it’s hardly eight o’clock in the morning. I want to call her back so badly and tell her to fuck off.”
“I think that sounds like a sensational idea.” I reach out and grab her hair and pull it from her shirt. I rub my hand along the back of her neck.
She finally gets her jeans on and buttoned, then turns to me with an enormous smile. “Good morning, Luca.”
She leans in to peck me on the lips. “Good morning, Kerry,” I respond.
“Last night was—” She pauses and looks me in the eyes like she’s searching for something. “It was more than amazing, but I can’t think of any better words right now.”
I run my fingers through her hair and palm her cheek. “It certainly was more than amazing.”
She kisses me again. “But I have to go. I want to tell Rachel to fuck off, but Stella has put so much work into the St. Patrick’s Day ball and I don’t want to be the reason it all falls to shit. I have to see it through, even if Stella isn’t there. Plus, I have at least two other events to worry about.”
Kerry finds her shoes and puts them on. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, grab my jeans, and toss them on. I stand and grab Kerry, bringing her into my body for a hug. “That woman is mad.”
Kerry nods into my chest. “I know.”
“Don’t let her get to you. Do what you can. No sense in bending over backward for someone who won’t appreciate it.”
“This is only for Stella.”
“Okay. I have to admit that I hate that you have to leave so soon.” I release her and she pulls back, her eyes traveling the entire length of my body.
“And I have to admit that you look absolutely delectable right now. Shirtless. Low-hung jeans. Tats everywhere. No shoes. I wish I didn’t have to go. And I also wish I didn’t have morning breath, because I’d kiss the hell out of you right now.” She covers her mouth, expressing the universal sign for morning breath. I copy her action and chuckle.
“I have to get home and changed before Rachel sends out a search party for me. I’ll see you later?”
“Okay.”
She hugs me for an elongated moment. “Oh my God, and you smell so good,” she says in a low voice. I chuckle again and kiss the top of her head. She releases me and takes her warmth with her. A warmth I know I’m going to crave later on.
She rushes toward the stairs and I follow her, making sure she is able to get out okay. She unlocks the door to my apartment and then the one to the shop. I watch her for a moment as she takes off down the street in a nearly full-on run. Then I lock the shop door behind me and head upstairs.
I grab the carton of juice from the fridge and take a big swig. I amble my way over toward the window and retrieve a sketch pad and pencil. As I sit and begin to sketch Kerry’s lotus, I think back to the day at Swirl and about what she told me regarding the meaning of the tattoo.
A lotus thrives in an environment that other flowers cannot. It is beauty in a sea of murkiness. It doesn’t let negativity determine its success.
That sounds kind of perfect for Kerry.
As I sketch, I remember the first time I saw her. It wasn’t the night she came into the shop with Stella. The first time I saw her was at Clay & Soul, when I didn’t even know who she was. I watched her sculpt and sway with her eyes closed, and all I could see was magic. Beauty. Serenity. Everything about her was a masterpiece. She was art. The essence of tranquility.
I try to incorporate these things into the sketch. I never know if my interpretation of things will translate to other people. This morning, though, I don’t care about other people. All I care about is Kerry.
Present Day
It’s been four days. I’m not counting or anything. It’s stupid for me to even be harping on it. Obsessing over it. We’re hanging out. That’s all.
But it’s been four days since Kerry and I had sex. She left my bed, and I’ve heard nothing from her.
Granted, I still forgot to get her cell number.
Granted, I haven’t tried to go see her. Find her.
But whose ball is in whose court? Or whatever the expression is.
I shouldn’t be hung up on it. I need to chill out. She’s busy. I get that.
And we’re just hanging out.
And that would all be fine and dandy if I could think about any-fucking-thing else besides her.
I work on a tat; I think about her. I eat lunch; I think about her. I take a shower, and I most certainly think about her.
I’m pathetic. A loser of epic proportions. I told her I couldn’t date. Couldn’t be serious. And I meant it. And she’s doing her thing, probably working her ass off for that bitch of a boss of hers. Giving me space, whether or not intentionally. And I should be doing the same. Living my life. Waiting for the next casual hang out to happen.
But I’m doing the exact opposite. I’m pining. Thinking of her every waking, and sometimes sleeping, second. As much as I try, I can’t help it. I want to talk to her. Touch her. Kiss her.
Have her naked in my bed again.
I’m sitting at the counter of the shop, watching the walk-ins come in and out as Darma and Virgil work in the back. My two artists tell me what they’re doing, and I ring up the customers, who then pay. In between those interactions, I’m working to perfect the tattoo design I started for Kerry. I flick the toothpick around in my mouth as I draw. I’ve never been one to start a drawing and toss it because it wasn’t working out the way I wanted. But I’ve done that three times now. Draw, assess, trash.
I am so goddamn frustrated.
This one that I’m working on now, though, I’m feeling better about. The toothpick flips. And flips. And flips. I draw and shade. Draw and shade. I pull my head back and look at what I’ve done so far.
It’s shit. I crumple it and toss it into the trash.
So much for that.
I rake my hands through my hair. I can’t find it—that perfect design. The feeling is so foreign to me, and I don’t know how to handle it. I close my eyes and turn my face to the sky to find something. Purpose. Meaning. Reasoning.
The bell on the door chimes.
I open my eyes and look toward the entrance. It’s Padraig. He comes behind the counter and stands next to me, patting me on the back. “Hey, brother. What’s going on today?” He’s chipper. More chipper than Padraig has ever been. I’m sure that mood has something to do with Stella. But I don’t care enough to ask.
“It’s fine. All walk-ins. Fairly busy. I don’t have anything scheduled today. Just manning the counter for a bit.”
“Aye.” He smiles at me. A big, shit-eating grin. God, that is not a look on him I’m sure I can get used to.
Curiosity wins out. “What the hell is up with you, man? You are looking awfully chipper. Wait. I’m not sure chipper is the right word.”
As I ponder another word to use, he chimes in. “I made things right in the world. It’s a fantastic feeling. You must try it.”
“Whatever. I’ll take your word for it. Good for you, though.” I tap my pencil on the counter.
“Kerry got your knickers in a bunch?” he says out of nowhere.
I look at him with a scowl. The mention of her makes my insides tighten with unease. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You two?” he says. “You’re on? You’re off? What are ya, exactly?”
“Nothing. We are nothing.”
Right? We’re nothing, right?
“Okay, makes sense, I guess, since she’s spending her nights getting drunk with me girl and not snuggled up with you.”
“What? You aren’t making any sense.”
He looks at me for a minute. I feel like he’s gauging me for some type of reaction.
“Okay. Just wanted to make sure.”
“Whatever, man,” I say.
He shakes his head and dodges back into his room.
She went out and got drunk with Stella? She didn’t come see me? She hasn’t come to see me.
Fuck, if I thought I was spun up before, I was absolutely wrong. Now, I’m spun up. Wound up fucking tight as shit. Goddammit.
I look at the customers in the waiting area. They’re all paid up. I walk back to the booths. “Darma, Virgil, I’m going upstairs for a bit. All the customers are paid and good to go. There are four out here waiting. Let me know if you need me.”
Darma stops her gun. “Excuse me just a sec,” she says to the guy sitting in her chair. She gets up, walks toward me, and peeks around at the customers sitting in the waiting area, to take stock of who is there, in case someone new walks in. “All right. Good to go. We’ll let you know if we need anything.” She returns to her client, and I head upstairs.
I grab a beer from my fridge and pop it open. I walk over to the window and look out at the water as I take a long swig. I remember looking at this view with Kerry the night she was here, before we had sex. I had thought that sharing that view with her was one of the most perfect moments of my life. I woke up the next day thinking I might want more of those moments with her.
But then she left and didn’t come back. I attributed it to her work, but apparently, going out drinking with Stella is also a priority over coming back to my bed.
It’s fine. I’m fine. This is all in my head, I know. I gave her no expectation of what I wanted from her.
Except just to hang out.
And now I miss the fuck out of her. And I’m hurt that she hasn’t come back. I shouldn’t be, but I am.
I’m an obsessive idiot.
I take another swig of my beer as I think about how I’m going to resolve this issue I have with myself.
And I think I just may have the right plan.
Present Day
Swirl.
That’s where I find myself midday on Sunday.
For brunch.
For Kerry.