Leaving Amarillo

by Caisey Quinn

  “Was I the first? To—”

  “Yes.”

  “Fuck. It’s killing me knowing I was the first one to taste you. Give me a second.” He closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath. I know he can probably feel my body trembling beneath him, but I can’t do much to stop it.

  His fingers press hard into my sides as he holds me down. I whimper loudly when he takes my right nipple into his mouth and sucks. My body bucks hard against him when he repeats his torment on the left.

  “Feel good, baby?”

  “Mm-hm,” is all I can manage.

  His mouth continues placing erratic kisses down my stomach until he reaches what I knew might end up being our deal breaker. His fingers lower the top edge of my underwear and he stares openly, his eyes darting back and forth from my face to my tattoo.

  “What’s this?” I can’t tell if he’s angry or not. Mostly all I can identify is shock.

  “A bluebird,” I whisper. It’s small, on a low enough branch on the vine that it’s hidden even in a skimpy bathing suit. Its body is a treble clef and music notes fly from its wings.

  “Why do you have this?”

  Because I love you.

  “It’s a part of who I am, Gavin. The part of me I don’t know if I would’ve found if I’d never met you. The part that throws glass bottles just to hear them shatter, the part that runs outside and screams when she’s frustrated, plays music to feel, and the part that will strangle your mother with a smile on her face if she ever hurts you again.”

  This is going so wrong. So very wrong. This never happens in the movies. Sex scenes aren’t supposed to be like this. I want to scream and cry and kiss him so hard it draws blood. I want to get back to the dreamlike buzz-inducing foreplay that had me practically levitating off the bed without dragging us down into the harsh pit of reality.

  “What are you doing to me?” There’s such obvious anguish in his eyes and I don’t know why this hurts him so badly but it does.

  “You’re a part of me,” I say quietly. “You always have been.”

  He doesn’t say anything at first. Just glares as if making up his mind. I can practically hear the fight-or-flight argument he’s having with himself in his head.

  His eyes stay on my tattoo for what feels like eternity before they meet mine. And I see it. He knows.

  “I don’t deserve to be a part of you,” he rasps out as if he’s in pain. “You’re good, too good for me and I can’t . . . I told you not to fall in love with me.”

  “You told me ten years too late,” I answer, crashing my mouth to his before he can argue his point any further.

  The exploration of my tattoos ends, thank God, and he’s with me again. Consuming me with his mouth and his broad muscular form above me. I feel tiny beneath him, but I hold my own as we fight for control of our kisses. We are breaths and moans and pleas in the darkness. Flesh on flesh. Tongues and fingers finding each other again and again. Battling for more, like the composition I still remember. I rake my nails across his back when his hard length brushes against the most sensitive part of me. I’m ready. I’m so ready it hurts in a place I can’t reach.

  “We have to slow down, Bluebird,” he says, pulling back. The way his mouth quirks tells me that whether or not he’s willing to admit it to me or himself, my tattoo makes him happy.

  My body practically convulses as he slides down it. His fingertips touch my chest and my heart leaps to meet them.

  “I’m ready, Gavin. I’m past ready. Please.”

  “I know, baby. We’ll get there. I promise.” He kisses each of my hip bones before dropping his hands to my inner thighs and easing them apart.

  I can’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t grab on to a single substantial thought.

  “Just your scent is making me insane. I want to beat on my chest, open the window, and tell every motherfucker in hearing distance that this is mine. That you’re mine.”

  “Yes, yours,” I pant.

  His head dips lower, his tongue parting my swollen folds, and I scream. Actually scream. I hear it in my ears as if it came from someone else.

  “Why do you have to taste so fucking good? I’m ruined. Damn it.” His fingers squeeze my thighs tightly. “Your scent is driving me out of my fucking mind.”

  I want to answer him, say something as hot as the words falling from his lips, but I can’t. I try and it comes out a garbled moan. I tear at the bedsheets when he sinks a finger inside me and tongues my throbbing center.

  “Gavin. Oh God.”

  His tongue swirls around my pulsating bundle of nerves and a slew of incomprehensible words fly out of my mouth. I don’t know how my body is remaining on the bed—feels like it should be well on its way to outer space. Pleasure spirals out of control, wrapping its powerful tendrils around me and tearing me in two.

  “Say it again. I want to hear it when you come for me.”

  “W-what?”

  His tongue laps up my wetness just before he suckles my clit between his lips and it’s too much. My legs try to close, their pathetic attempt at escaping the mind-blowing pleasure overloading my senses.

  “My name. I want to hear my name in that sexy fucking mouth of yours. Say it, baby.” He attempts to add another finger but my insides clench shut, trapping one and denying the other. He pulls out and drags them slowly through my slick heat before trying again.

  “Gavin,” I bite out as he forces his fingers inside. “Oh my God. Oh God. Please.”

  “Fuck me, you’re so damn tight. Open for me, sweetness.”

  I’m trying. God, I’m trying.

  I don’t even know what I’m begging for, but he seems to. His fingers plunge in and out rhythmically while he tongue-kisses my clit.

  I feel the pressure build, feel it breaking through the dam and spilling over, drowning me, submerging us both, as I climb higher and higher into ecstasy.

  Gavin curls a finger inside me, his mouth devouring me like a starving man, and I’m gone. Engulfed in flames and held under to burn slowly to death. Black and red and blue turn to blinding white as I’m flung over the edge into oblivion.

  “That’s it, baby. Come for me.”

  I do, good Lord, I do. I writhe and twist and moan as the pleasure overtakes me. For what feels like endless hours.

  “Damn it to hell and back, your tight little pussy is going to break my dick off when you come with me inside you.” Gavin’s words yank me back to the present as he pulls his fingers out and licks them, sucks them actually, into his mouth, smiling as if they taste like manna from heaven. I could probably come again right this instant at that sight alone.

  There was more? More than this? I was going to have more of this? It seemed too good to be true, like an intense fever dream I could only have once.

  The questions must be evident on my face because when Gavin lifts his eyes to mine, he grins. “Oh, my sweet little Bluebird. Did you think we were done?” His voice is gleefully sympathetic. “That was just to take the edge off, sweetheart. We’re just getting started.”

  He leans down and rains passion-filled kisses down on my mouth. I taste myself and a quiver breaks through at the obscene amount of pleasure I take in our intimacy.

  Gavin has tasted me. I have tasted me on Gavin. No matter what happens, we will always have this. I will treasure it the way I knew that I would. The night I held fire.

  Chapter 22

  “I’M NOT GOING TO LIE TO YOU. EVEN AS WET AS YOU ARE RIGHT now, it’s going to hurt at first. You’re tight as hell.” Gavin leans over and reaches for his pants, extracting a square-shaped foil packet. I watch his fingers as they open it and roll the latex deftly over his length.

  “I’m on the pill,” I say quietly. “And, um, I don’t have any diseases or anything.”

  He nods. “We’ve been on the road together, baby. I know you’re on the pill. And I get tested and always use protection. But I’ve known guys who’ve ended up daddies swearing the girl never missed a dose. It happens. Nothing is fai
l-safe. I want to be careful with you, baby.” His fingers stroke my face and my eyes fall shut momentarily. “Do you even know how precious you are to me?”

  The urge to cry hits me unexpectedly. I blink the tears back and stare up at him. I want to tell him that I love him—that I’m in love with him and always have been. But I know he doesn’t want to hear those professions right now so I just nod and keep my mouth clamped shut until the urge passes and I can speak coherently.

  “Show me, then. Show me how precious I am to you.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he says with a wink, dragging his hard length through the center of me.

  My back arches off the bed, bowing toward him as he lowers onto me. A satisfied whimper escapes and he catches it with his mouth.

  “I wish I could’ve taken you someplace nicer than this. You deserve so much better than this.”

  I reach between us and cover his lips with my fingertips. “I only wanted you, Gavin. I don’t care when or where or how. I just want you.”

  “You have me,” he says, parting my folds with the thick head of his erection.

  For tonight at least, I think to myself just before I decide to banish any more bitterness from this night.

  I feel him at my entrance and my entire body goes rigid.

  “Breathe, baby,” he whispers in my ear. “I promise to take it slow.”

  The hunger inside me grows, building with each slide of his skin against mine, his bare chest teasing my nipples until they’re hard against him. I don’t know if I want him to take it slow. I’m about to tell him he can take me however he wants to, plunge inside and pound out all of his pent-up emotions all night long if need be, when he presses inside and the sensation whips every coherent thought from my mind.

  My fingers clutch his shoulders tight enough to tear his skin, but he only groans in a way that sounds like he’s enjoying it.

  There’s a pinch and more pressure as he ventures deeper inside and then I’m pierced by his fullness. My walls begin to tense around him, gripping and releasing him as I throb in an attempt to accept the intrusion.

  “Oh. Oh God. Gavin. You’re so . . . it’s so . . .”

  “It’s so what, baby?” His voice is low and gravelly, successfully heating my already burning blood to a dangerous temperature inside my veins.

  “Full. You fill me so perfectly.”

  He groans and his hips grind against mine. “Easy, sweetness. Too much talk like that and this will be over a lot sooner than I’d like.”

  I spread my legs a little wider, my muscles finally accepting the invasion and easing slightly as he begins to move inside me. “I can’t wait. God, Gavin. I can’t wait to feel you come inside me.”

  “Please. Fuck. Please stop talking.” The raw vulnerability only makes me want to talk more.

  “I wanted this for so long. Wanted you. It’s even better than I imagined.” I moan loudly when he buries himself as deep as my body will allow, then again when he presses even further, passing a barrier I didn’t expect him to. “You feel so good, Gavin. So big and thick inside me. So deep.”

  His hands fly to my wrists and pin them on either side of my head. His scorching glare sears my eyes as he hisses out a command. “Stop. Fucking. Talking.”

  “Or what?” I meet his sweltering stare with torrid desire of my own flashing in my eyes.

  “Or I will cover your mouth with my hand and fuck you a hell of a lot harder than you’re ready for.”

  Yes, please.

  My walls pulsate furiously around him and my mouth curves into a smile. “Fuck me harder, Gavin. I can take it harder. I want it.”

  His hips pound savagely against me, slamming him inside even deeper and I cry out for mercy.

  “See, baby? See what happens when you don’t do what I say?” He leans down and kisses me roughly, ravaging my mouth and leaving his moisture on my still-searching lips. “Now be a good girl or I will spank your pretty little perfect ass.”

  “A spanking sounds like a surprisingly good idea.” I clench down and constrict my walls around him as if I’m trying to push him out, even though that’s the last thing I want.

  “Christ, baby. Okay, ease up. You’re so tight I can’t fucking breathe.”

  His words flare a competitive streak I only have when it comes to him. I want to be the best. I have to be the best. I want to be the one he can’t forget, can’t get enough of. Won’t walk away from.

  I squeeze even tighter, then I rise up and lick a path up his chest and neck. He returns the favor by leaning down and teasing my nipples with his tongue.

  “I want to touch you,” I breathe out, jerking my hands that are still trapped in his viselike grip above my head.

  “Say please.”

  “Please,” I cry out on a ragged breath when he pulls himself nearly all the way out of my body.

  He releases my wrists, allowing me to wrap my arms around his back and neck. My legs wrap instinctively around him, driving him deeper inside where he belongs.

  It’s building again, that delicious pressure that means I’m close. The tension coils in my lower stomach and strokes all the way down to where he’s sliding against my core.

  “I feel you tensing, trying to hold it back. Let go, baby.”

  I don’t know how he knows, but he’s seemingly tuned in to my every need. He slows his rhythm, changing from the punishing thrusts to an intense grind that puts him right where I need him.

  “Gavin.” His name drops like a prayer from my lips. “I want to wait. I want to feel you come with me.”

  “I’m close, baby. So fucking close.”

  “Kiss me, please.”

  His mouth curves in a smile before landing on mine. I pull him in, sucking his lips in the same way my internal walls are suctioning around him.

  A throaty groan reverberates into my mouth and I’m lost in a turbulent sea of untamable pleasure. The instant I feel him jerk and throb inside me, I fall—losing the last ounce of control I was clinging on to with my fingernails.

  His body rocks hard against mine, bucking his hips into mine with enough force to bruise. I let loose an animalistic sound that I couldn’t re-create if someone held a gun to my head. My legs drop from his waist, shooting out straight and stiff until the first wave rolls over me. He moves relentlessly inside of me and a second wave hits.

  I’m confused and overcome. My mind tries to divide itself to accommodate the sensations. I had sex but I’ve never felt anything like this before. Never-ending orgasms and tremulous aftershocks are new to me. Gavin brings his hand between us, pressing his thumb to my clit, and I scream. This wave is slower, taking over my body in languid strokes of ecstasy.

  I’m going to die. These are my last glorious moments on earth. I couldn’t have picked a better way to go.

  “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” slips from my mouth in an endless stream.

  I feel the damp heat of the whispers in my ear before I can make out what he’s saying.

  “So beautiful, so motherfucking perfect and beautiful,” are the first words I comprehend.

  And then a deep breath and one more declaration.

  “You’ve wrecked me, Bluebird. I. Am. Wrecked,” whispered just before he collapses on top of me.

  Chapter 23

  I’M DREAMING. AT LEAST, I THINK I AM.

  I fell from a cliff into the ocean where a current held me down. I’ve been under for too long, much too long. I know I can’t breathe this long underwater. I start to panic but my screams are lost in the water. Until the music begins to play.

  It pulls me to shore, the glorious sound of the violin being played masterfully. I have to see who this master musician is up close. He saved my life, after all.

  I run, my bare feet struggling to find purchase in the sand. But then I see him. His back is to me and he’s not playing a violin at all, but making love to a woman.

  Gavin. My beautiful Gavin. His tattoo-covered muscles flex and strain as he moves, and she’s crying out in pleasure or pain,
I can’t tell. But her cries are music to my ears and I see her face.

  It’s me. She has my face.

  They’re on fire, it’s all around them, and I want to help them but I’m frozen where I stand. Helpless.

  Water begins to fill my mouth and lungs again and I try to scream, to ask them if they see me, to tell them they’re on fire, but my cries are muffled by more water.

  “Dixie?” Gavin stops moving above her and gapes at me. “Bluebird? Are you okay?”

  He does see me.

  My eyes fly open and I’m in his arms panting for breath. In a hotel room. Not drowning. I’m not drowning.

  “Dixie? Baby, are you okay?”

  I nod frantically while trying to catch my breath. “Bad dream. Weird dream.”

  “Holy fuck, you scared me to death.”

  “Sorry,” I say easing back into his arms. “I was on the beach. We were together, but then I was separate. I was drowning.”

  His arms tighten around me. “We must’ve passed out. I woke up to you making a strange noise, like you were choking to death.”

  My head settles against his chest and his heartbeat lulls me into a calmer, much more peaceful state. “Yeah. It was crazy.” I shake my head against his warm skin. “It was like I knew I was dreaming, but it was so real at the same time.”

  “Well, I promise, you’re awake now. And so am I. You damn near gave me a heart attack.”

  “Hmm . . .” My hand slides down his chiseled stomach. We’re still naked. I find his thick fullness with my fingers and wrap around him. He jerks in my grasp and is hard almost instantly. “Maybe we should make sure. You know, just so I know we’re really awake.”

  “About that,” he murmurs into my hair. “We got kind of messy in my half-ass, half-conscious attempt to dispose of the condom. Shower with me?”

  Now there’s an offer I can’t refuse.

  Our bodies seem to have magnetized during our lovemaking, or fucking, or whatever that glorious experience should be called. We remain connected in one way or another as we make our way to the bathroom—his arm around my waist, a hand on my back, my face to his chest, his fingers in my hair, and finally I get brave and press my lips to his when he stands from leaning over to turn on the shower.