by Mells, J. C.
“So, who wants to go first?” he asked, his dark eyes locked with mine.
Thatch
A naked heart-to-heart in a pool – maybe not one of my best ideas. California’s dark blue eyes glowed a purple-black in the low light, and my body hardened from the way she was looking at me. There was determination and a hint of anger in her gaze, but also, despite her efforts to conceal it, a desire burning there, too. I rested my elbows on my knees to conceal my arousal.
“You go first,” she whispered in a husky voice.
I paused and took a deep breath.
“I need to know why you’re here, California. You’ve seen into my life, you’ve met my son, you know I can’t do casual relationships apart from one-night-stands. I also can’t do relationships of any kind with drug users.”
“I see,” California whispered across the water to me.
“Do you though? Do you really understand how hard it is for me to talk to you about this?”
“Yes,” came the simple answer.
California inched her way up the slope dividing the shallow end of the pool from the deeper end, hugging the wall as she moved nearer to me so she could listen.
“Why did you come looking for me, California?” I almost held my breath as I waited for her response.
“I came to say sorry and maybe to explain myself a little bit. I didn’t like the way we left things on the night that we met.” California paused. “I also haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” This last admission came out a little rushed, and she followed it quickly with another question. “Why did you call me?”
“Oh, so you did get the message that I’d called?”
“Yes, about two weeks ago when I was already on my way to Vegas. My stepmother never told me and I heard from someone else way after the fact.”
“She told me you were in Europe for a few months.”
California gave a dry laugh. “Of course she did. I was in rehab. She’d never tell a stranger that. In fact, she probably wouldn’t admit it to friends either.”
By this point, California had edged her way along the wall until she reached the steps I was sitting on. Careful to keep everything below her shoulders under the water, she leaned her back against the side of the pool. The ends of her long hair floated around her.
She was breathtaking in the moonlight.
I shuffled a little uncomfortably on the step and moved a little nearer to her; I couldn’t help it. It was like we were laced together with an invisible piece of ever-shrinking elasticized string. I wanted to talk and tell her we could never have a relationship. I wanted to feel her skin warm against mine even more.
“So, why did you call?” she repeated her question.
“I had a moment of weakness.” I immediately regretted my words when I saw the anger flash across her face. It was not what she wanted to hear. It also wasn’t exactly what I meant.
“No matter what I say, or how much I change my life – which just for your information I’m doing for me and not for you – I’ll always be the drug-addicted whore, right?”
“No, that’s not what I meant…”
California pushed herself up off the wall she was leaning on and stood glaring at me; all thoughts of modesty wiped from her head.
“Come on, Thatch, it’s exactly what you meant. We had an unforgettable night; it affected us and maybe even changed our outlook on life a little, but now it’s over. You’re nervous about relationships and I’m never going to be relationship material as far as you’re concerned. I get it. I get it and I hear you loud and clear.” California’s eyes blazed at me and if it was possible for a body to create smoke, fumes of it would be coming out of her ears right about now.
“I wasn’t going to put it quite like that,” I answered, unable to take my eyes off her breasts proudly on display now that she was standing upright. “But, now that you have, I guess that’s that then. It was a moment we shared and now it’s done.”
“Exactly.”
“So we’re done?” I asked, standing up from my seat and taking a step toward her.
“Oh, we are so done it isn’t even funny,” California said emphatically as her eyes traveled down my chest and beyond.
I can’t say for certain who exactly jumped who, but within seconds her legs were wrapped tightly around my waist and her lips were locked onto mine.
Cali
I can honestly say there is no bigger turn-on than angry kissing. Angry kissing just made its debut into my top three list. Sorry, grocery shopping, but we all knew something as mundane as you couldn’t hold out in that spot forever.
Angry kissing is a lot like regular kissing – only with a lot more violence. Not the I’m-calling-911-on-your-ass kind of violence, but more a passionate, sexy kind of violence. Hair-pulling, mark-leaving biting, blood-drawing scratching, and, most of all, rough grabbing. I wanted to tear Thatch’s skin off of his body and wrap it around mine. I wanted to tear out his heart and crush it between my fingers for telling me I was a whore. I hated him. I hated that I’d spent the night filled with self-doubt and even lower self-esteem – and now was enjoying the welcome intrusion of his tongue in my mouth. I hated myself for wanting more. More angry kissing and anything else it was definitely going to lead into. I hated the fact I wanted him this much – that I would die right there on the spot if he stopped what he was doing to me, or made me stop what I was doing to him.
By the time we finally wrenched our mouths apart, my back was up against the side of the pool again and Thatch’s hard body was pressed up against mine. I could feel his heart pounding and the vibrations from it alone sent shimmers straight to my core.
“Tell me to stop before it’s too late, California,” Thatch said hoarsely, fighting for control.
“Don’t stop,” I whispered, my eyes locked with his. ‘Don’t you dare fucking stop.” Yeah, I was lying when said I hated him.
Giving a low groan, Thatch lifted me out of the water and set me on the concrete at the side of the pool. Placing the heel of his palm in between my breasts, he gently pushed me back until I lay flat with my feet still hanging over the edge and in the water. His hand moved to first pinch my nipple hard, then squeeze my breast as I gasped and arched my back into his touch. Using his hips, he opened my legs, grabbing one of my ankles and lifting it up until my foot had purchase on the concrete, still warm from the afternoon’s sun. Spreading me wider still, he nipped and licked his way down the inner thigh of my raised leg, stopping right before he reached his intended destination.
“Is this what you want, California?” He asked in a husky voice.
“Yes,” I panted.
“Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it,” he said with a cocky gleam in his eyes as his fingers moved sensuously up and down my inner thigh.
“Fuck me with your tongue,” I answered breathlessly. If he thought he was talking to someone who was afraid to voice what it was she wanted, then he had the wrong damn girl.
“Oh, don’t worry, beautiful girl, I’m getting to that part real soon.”
I hissed out a breath and arched my back further as soon as his fingers touched my sex.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he murmured as he slipped a finger inside me.
“It’s called… a pool.” The sarcastic words were in direct opposition to my breathless stammer.
“Yeah, okay,” he chuckled softly as he added a second finger into the mix. Then his tone switched to serious. “You’re so fucking beautiful, California.”
The way he said it made me believe him. Thatch had done the impossible – he’d made me feel beautiful for the first time in my life – even if it was just for that fleeting moment.
He moved his fingers in and out of me slowly, reveling in the gasps his touch elicited. Every single one of my nerve endings were on fire. He pushed them in as deeply as they could go and stopped, waiting for me to lock eyes with him again. My breath caught in my throat as he lowered his head slowly without breaking our eye connect
ion.
“I believe I was promised a taste of Pepsi-Cola,” he whispered right before his hot tongue flicked over my clitoris.
Thatch
She tasted better than Pepsi-Cola.
This girl hadn’t just weakened my resolve, she’d crumpled it like a piece of paper and set it on fire. For the first time in my life, I understood addiction. As the offspring of two alcoholics, I still never understood the pull of needing something so badly you’d risk the lives and happiness of the people you loved. Until now. I was incapable of thinking clearly where California was concerned.
California muffled her scream as the orgasm hit her by stuffing her closed fist into her mouth. Her other hand was tangled in my hair as I slowly kissed my way across her lower stomach as soon as her wild bucking had stopped.
Fuck, she was beautiful when she came.
“I need to be inside you, now,” I said as I dipped my tongue into her belly button.
“Condom,” she gasped out, still trying to catch her breath.
“Can you reach my pants?”
“So, you came here to… talk… did you?” She teased as she managed to grab hold of my jeans that I’d tossed not far from where she had ended up.
“I always come prepared for anything,” I winked cockily.
She gave a low laugh as I dragged her back into the pool with me as soon as I saw she had hold of the necessary item.
I took it from her and went up a couple of the pool steps to get above water level.
California watched my every move as I rolled the condom onto me.
God, I love the way she looked at me. For a few seconds, all I could do was stand there and stare back at her; watching her watch me. She was a few steps lower down, and she had to tilt her face up to look at me. Only, it wasn’t my face she was interested in right now.
Fuck, that made me even harder.
I reached down and pulled her up to my level so I could cover her mouth with mine. I knew she tasted herself on my tongue and I was pretty sure it turned her on just as much as it did me.
She uttered a small sound of surprise when I broke the kiss and flipped her around so her back was to my chest. I slid my hand from her hip around to cup her between the legs, teasing her swollen clit, dipping just the tip of my finger into her, and loving how wet she was for me.
Now that both of our lower extremities were just above water level, she could blame the pool water as much as she wanted. The slickness my fingers slipped through told a different story. California pressed down on my hand, trying to impale herself further onto its digits.
I’d never wanted anyone like this.
“Fuck me,” she finally whispered over her shoulder to me. “Fuck me, please.”
Instinctively she leaned forward and gripped the side of the pool while I raised one of her legs and set it on a higher step to widen her stance.
Seeing her positioned in such a way, back arched in anticipation, ass raised, skin flushed with desire, water lapping around her thighs, I completely abandoned any small amount of control I thought I might’ve had.
Clutching her hips I slammed into her so hard, she was forced forward to where her elbows bent and now rested on the edge of the pool, bracketing her white-knuckled fists. She moaned my name as she straightened her arms and pushed her body back to meet each thrust as I pounded into her relentlessly like a man possessed.
Completely out of control, I increased my pace, heedless as to whether I was being too rough with her. The moans coming from her mouth informed me she was enjoying it. They spurred me on in the most primal of ways and I thrust deeper and harder, reveling in the sound my balls made as they slapped against her skin.
“This is going to be quick and I’m going to come so hard,” I grunted into her ear, my chest pressed tightly to her back, my fingers moving vigorously through her drenched folds.
I felt her clench hard around me and, as her body spasmed against mine, I just let myself go.
Still shuddering from our release, we both dropped to our knees, up to our chests in the water now, and I held her tightly, not ready to separate myself from her yet.
I rested my forehead against the back of her neck, trying to control my breaths. Her forehead was resting against the edge of the pool.
“Now, Thatch Reston,” she said in a shaky voice, so low I could barely hear her over the sounds of our heavy breathing, “look me in the eye and tell me we’re not worth taking a chance on.”
Cali
Thatch gently removed himself from inside me and slowly turned me around on his lap until I was facing him.
“Did I hurt you?” he whispered.
“Not yet. But you might,” I answered. He’d been referring to the incredible sex. We both knew I was referring to something else.
“I really did come here to talk,” he sighed, pulling me closer into his chest. “But you seem to have this effect on me, California, and I just can’t seem to control myself around you.”
“Like that bratty child display you put in at the shop today? Or, the one you put on at the lake the day before?” I asked, eyebrow arched.
“I might’ve acted childishly today, but you met me blow for blow.”
“So it’s my fault you can’t seem to get past my sexual past?” I snapped, pushing myself away from him.
“I don’t care how many fucking guys you’ve slept with, California. I was angry at how consumed I am by you. I was angry at the lake at how jealous I felt when I saw you with Freddie, even though I knew there was nothing going on. I hate the fact that this whole thing has become a choice between you or Thaddeus, and I hate the fact that I want you so much.”
“I don’t understand why it’s one or the other, Thatch. I love Thaddeus and I’m pretty sure he likes me a lot, too.”
Thatch reached out and pulled me close to him again.
“Can we please go inside and get dry…maybe put some clothes on? Trying to talk to you naked was not one of my best ideas in terms of my reason for coming here tonight. I’ll tell you everything about Charity and what happened in New York that made me move out here. Okay?”
I nodded my head and, placing my hand in his, we both got up and stepped out of the pool.
***
I showed Thatch into the guest bathroom, before heading into the master suite to clean myself up. I knew he needed some alone time to gear himself up for this ‘talk’ we had to have.
I threw on some boy shorts and a T-shirt and exited the bathroom to find Thatch already sprawled across my bed wearing only his jeans, his hair still wet from his shower. I thought I was quick taking mine, but damn guys could shower fast.
“This is some room,” Thatch chuckled at me from the bed.
“It is, isn’t it?” I smiled back.
“I’m feeling a little… well… inadequate surrounded by all the dicks on display in here.”
I laughed. “Trust me, you have no reason to feel inadequate.” It just sort of came out and I felt my neck flush after I uttered the words.
“Is that so?” he asked cheekily.
“Wasn’t there something you wanted to talk about,” I said with exaggerated reproach. “Oh, and please, do make yourself comfortable on my bed,” I added, rolling my eyes.
“Thanks,” he smiled. “Don’t mind if I do.”
He reached up and pulled me down onto the bed next to him. We both turned on our sides, not touching, but facing one another.
He closed his eyes for a second to gather his thoughts and I noticed how incredibly long his thick eyelashes were. Why had I never noticed that before? He was just so damn beautiful. From his messy, wet hair, all the way down to his sexy, naked feet. Everything in between was pretty damn lickable, too.
“I love it when you look at me like that,” he said huskily.
I brought my eyes back up to meet his, which were now open and hooded with desire.
“If we can’t keep our hands off each other long enough to have a damn conversation…” I started.
Thatch
“I grew up with two alcoholic parents. When I was seven, my mother joined AA and decided to get clean and my dad left because he wasn’t ready to. My mother stayed clean for almost two years before I started smelling it on her breath again. She was what they refer to as a functional drinker. It never interfered with her work and there was always food on the table and the rent got paid.”
I shifted a little on the bed before continuing on with my story.
“I met Charity Jones when we were both sixteen. It was a classic tale of boy-from-the-wrong-side-of-the-tracks, meets the girl-way-out-of-his-league. Charity was beautiful and outgoing and the most popular girl in school within two weeks of transferring to it. Her parents were wealthy, but frugal due to their religious beliefs. She’d been at a private school run by a convent until she somehow managed to persuade her parents to let her attend a public school. It wasn’t until much later I realized what nut-jobs her parents were and how that would eventually affect their daughter.”
I paused and California nodded at me to go on.
“Maybe it was the tortured-artist thing, or the fact I had a few parental issues of my own, but somehow the beautiful girl who everyone wanted to be, or be with, was dating me. Charity came from such a strict and severe home, that she did what a lot of supposed ‘good, God-fearing girls’ did: she rebelled. She snuck out of her house often and partied hard, and dragged me into a scene that I wanted no part of. Sure, I went through a short phase where I dabbled in substances I shouldn’t have, but with my hereditary background I was smart enough to realize it was a path that wouldn’t end up going well for me if I chose to stay on it. That really was the only thing I was smart about in retrospect.” I shrugged and gave a dry laugh, finding no real humor in my observation.
“But shit didn’t really hit the fan,” I continued, “until Charity got pregnant.”
California reached behind her and pulled a throw over her legs as the AC kicked on. I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. I’m a hot-blooded male after all, and sharing my story while trying to stop myself from looking at California in her panties, was every bit as difficult as you’d expect.