Sail (The Wake Series Book 2)

by M. Mabie

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “Which one did she pick?” Casey asked. He plopped down next to me at the small, bistro-style table in my dining room.

  “One of the same ones you did,” she answered, and then showed him the one I’d chosen. “I like that one, too.”

  We talked about the things she was doing in her classes and we had a genuinely great time. It was incredible feeling included—even in a small way—into their family. It made me so hopeful and eager for the future.

  The BLT gift would have been nice, but having Casey and Audrey in my apartment, just hanging out, was a fantastic consolation.

  “Okay, you two have fun. I’m going to head out. I’m doing a campus tour tomorrow,” Audrey told us as she put her jacket on and wrapped her pretty silk scarf around her neck. “I don’t need to look tired when I’m walking prospective students and their parents around campus.”

  Casey hugged his little sister tightly. “Be careful. Drive safe,” he instructed. “Text me when you get back to your room.”

  “Yes, Dad,” she mocked as she went out the door.

  “Bye, Audrey,” I said and she waved. She had one of the most truly perfect smiles.

  We closed the door after she pulled away.

  “Now, you. Get the fuck over here…,” Casey stalked toward me, “…with your wink-stealing ass. That’s my move.” He looked menacing, and fully capable of delivering a wicked punishment for my thievery.

  “You don’t scare me,” I said as I walked backward, retreating through my apartment. He stopped all of a sudden, went back to the front door, locked it and then like a flash he was after me.

  “Then why are you running from me?”

  “Stop, Casey,” I said as I circled my bed.

  He paused inside my bedroom, not far from the door, and held up a finger for me to wait a minute. He looked all around, like my bedroom was a fascinating museum exhibit. There wasn’t much to see. A closet with shoes all over the place. In retrospect, I could have spent some time in there straightening it up, since I was having bedroom company. Nevertheless, it was my closet and it wasn’t that bad.

  “You have a lot of shoes.”

  “Yep. And I don’t wear half of them. I just put them on for a second and then settle for one of the three pairs that are already broken in.” I lay over my bed, but kept my feet on the floor as I allowed him to waltz through my stuff.

  Then he saw the picture of us, from Chicago on the Fourth of July, which I’d printed from my phone and framed. I did that the first week I lived there.

  “Honeybee, you have a picture of me beside your bed?” he inquired, bending down to look at it on the nightstand. Then, in a much unexpected move, he opened my nightstand drawer. The one with my toy. My special talking on the phone with naughty, dirty, flirty Casey toy. I’d bought that the first week, too.

  “You keep a picture of me above your vibrator like a sexual tombstone.” He chuckled. “I approve.”

  I was mortified for about ten seconds. Then he turned the little silver toy on. I can’t deny it, I was turned on, too.

  Friday, February 12, 2010

  MY LIST OF TURN-ONS, simplified. She. Had. A. Vibrator.

  Happy Valentine’s Day to me.

  Yes, I had every intention of reinforcing the no one-night stand guy behavior from our trip—at least on the first night—but, fuck if I didn’t just find her vibrator.

  I have no clue why I looked in the drawer. Okay. I had a clue. Every guy fantasizes about his girl pleasuring herself. Every guy. All of them. That’s why I looked. It was predetermined in my chromosomes to find out if my fantasies were true.

  Sure, I could have used it on her—if she was okay with that. But I’m persuasive as hell, when I need to be. I’m a goddamned salesman. I could talk her into it and she’d believe it was her idea—if it came to that. Just the thought of witnessing that precious sight, without my participation, there was a good chance I would embarrass myself. If she used it in front of me, I would come in my pants.

  So, even though the rehabilitated one-night stand guy knew better, he still couldn’t do anything about the circumstances. Things like that never happened. It was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.

  She had to be made aware of the situation.

  “Blake, I think we need to have a talk,” I said and swallowed the lump in my throat. The sex gods were smiling at me. It was a gift from above. Every man’s dream and it had just come true for me.

  “About my toy?” She looked slightly embarrassed, but I knew she was excited. She wore the proof of her ramped-up libido on her face. Pink-nose tattletale. God, I loved that girl. “We don’t have to talk about it. I know what it does,” she challenged.

  Thank you, sex toy gods.

  “Can you show me?” I tried to keep a serious face, but I was thrilled. I cleared my throat; it was getting hot in her room.

  Her eyes were wide, but she didn’t say no. She didn’t say no. No noes were said. There was a chance. I needed to make my intentions clear, before it went any further.

  “Blake, I didn’t plan to come here tonight and fuck your brains out like a sex-starved whore-monger. I didn’t. I was going to be good, show some restraint.” As she dutifully listened, she sucked her lips in and bit her teeth down around them to hide her smile, stopping herself from laughing at me. I continued anyway. “But. But! This is a game changer.”

  I brought the vibrator to the top of the bed, and then mirrored her stance. My feet on the floor, I lay down and met her in the middle.

  I accidentally turned it on.

  “Whoa, fella. Hold up.” The damn thing was more eager than I was. It had a hair trigger. I pressed a button to turn it off, but it just got stronger.

  Blake possessively took it from me and with instructional eyes demonstrated how to off the little devil. Then a silent, laughter-deprived tear rolled down her cheek as she handed it back.

  “Thank you. As I was saying, I didn’t come over here tonight with the intention of knocking the bottom out of your pretty little ass and blowing your mind with this little thing—and thanks for keeping him a reasonably competitive size, by the way. But I just can’t see any way around it.”

  “You didn’t want to knock the bottom out of all this before?” Her voice shook as she tried to rein in her composure. It filled my heart seeing her light up with glee. Who knew sex toys could bring so much pleasure? On second thought, that bears no need for answering.

  “That’s not exactly what I said. I just meant it wasn’t my intention.”

  “And now?”

  “Well, hell. Do I have a choice? You’re looking so girl-next-door-sexy and you have a picture of us by your bed, that—and I’m only assuming—you look at when you…” I waggled my eyebrows. She could fill in the blanks.

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe? Good answer. I like a little mystery.” I stole my wink move back, and gave it to her. She leaned in and kissed me, tasting like the chocolate ice cream we had after dinner.

  “Now, knowing what you do, about my pure intentions, can I please see what you can do with this thing?”

  “I don’t know.” She blushed. “I can’t just do it. You know? Can you just jack off?”

  “Yes,” I deadpanned.

  “Oh.” She put her head down on the bed, shaking it with embarrassment. Then she looked up at me with mischief swimming in her deep brown eyes.

  “You first then,” she dared.

  This girl had game. Well played, honeybee. Well played.

  She crawled up on the mattress, her ass in the air and turned around laying perpendicular to me, the way one should lay on a bed. She didn’t say anything, but her body told me everything I wanted to know. She was breathing heavier, her back against the fluffy tan comforter. The look on her face telling me she’d do any damn thing I wanted.

  If I had to choose, it was one of my favorite looks. Her lips were red from biting at them to stave off a laugh, full and totally kissable. A blush on h
er cheeks. Her dark brown eyes, dreamy and heavy-lidded. It was sensational and right up there with my other favorites. Her sleepy, satisfied, after climax face. One I planned on seeing a few times that weekend. The way she looked when she came. Totally a contender for favorite. Right next to the way she looked when I told her I loved her and the way she looked when she said it back.

  If I were hard pressed, I wouldn’t be able to choose, but didn’t have to. Because there she was, waiting for me, like a kite in the breeze. Waiting for me to put up or shut up.

  I stood to unbuckle my pants. If she wanted to watch, I’d show her. She studied every move I made with hungry eyes.

  It wasn’t a challenge for me; I’d been hard most of the night. So when I pulled myself free of my boxers, dick in hand, I began a time-honored Casey ritual. I clutched my cock tightly and her eyes widened at the sight of me man-handling my manhood.

  She licked her lips and I kept going.

  “Is this what you wanted to see?” I asked and slid my palm up and down my dick. Slack-jawed, she nodded her head, yes. I propped one knee up on the bed. If I expected a good show, I had to give one.

  First, her cautious hand found its way to the button fly of her jeans and opened them. Then her slow, shy fingers dipped below her panties where I couldn’t see and her head fell deeper into the pillow. Her eyes full of lust and wonder as she watched, never taking her eyes off my cock.

  “Take your pants off, Blake,” I instructed. She wasted no time heeding my request.

  Good girl, the panties, too.

  After her bottom half was as naked as mine, she roamed the bed for her toy. I peered down at my stiff dick and saw a drip of pre-come glazing the tip. I slowed my hand at the head, and ran my thumb over its slickness, just as I heard the vibrator turn on.

  I stood mesmerized, watching as she gingerly ran it through the lips of her pussy a few times and then, when she found just the right spot, she dialed up the intensity. She pressed herself against it, her hips grinding seductively along the length of it, as a pleasure-filled moan left her lips.

  When our eyes finally found each other she mouthed, “I want you.”

  I couldn’t take any more. I dropped my dick and climbed onto her bed, it was softer than the one I had at home and my knee sunk into both the plush bedding and the mattress.

  I took her toy away, and tossed it aside, saying, “It’s my turn.”

  My hand wandered under her shirt and over her warm skin. Her breath hitched and she shivered as my fingers lightly danced over her stomach.

  She rose and lifted her arms above her head, telling me she didn’t need or want her shirt anymore. I grabbed it by the hem and pulled it off, and then she lay back down.

  I straddled her, putting a knee on either side of her thighs, and I closed my legs as much as I could so her legs were tightly pressed together. My hands found her sides and I leaned forward to reach behind her and unclasp her bra, but I couldn’t find it.

  She chuckled a little, and then performed her next trick. With a flick of her wrist, she unhooked it in the front, her breasts softly bouncing free. For someone who didn’t think she was sexy, she was doing a damn fine job proving herself wrong.

  I moved the fabric to the sides, and with both palms, cupped her, loving the feel of her in my hands. Her tits were gallery-worthy. Perky, but natural and full. Her nipples were almost the same color as her lips and they tasted just as good.

  I don’t know what it was, but the sight of my hands on her body turned me on even more. The contrast of my big hands and her perfectly delicate skin seemed so erotic.

  She puckered her lips requesting a kiss. Another look on my favorites list.

  When our mouths met, she tugged at the only piece of clothing left between us. My shirt. I urgently took it off and tossed it, getting back to her mouth as fast as possible.

  Her warm hand gripped my shaft tightly, like she’d watched me do to myself. Then she caressed me to the point of almost weakness. Even though I was much more practiced at it, when she did it, I felt so much more.

  Somehow, the human body lets you split into two sets of feelings whilst enjoying incredible fucking moments like that. Both the sensations she gave me with her touches, and the ones I took pleasure feeling while exploring her.

  My mouth made its way past all of my favorite hang-outs. Stopping behind her ear, where I heard a sigh slip past her lips. I painted a thin stripe up her neck with my tongue and felt her shift under me as her body came alive, rocking into her own hand as she gripped my cock.

  I spread my legs to give her more room and I encouraged her to roll over.

  Her beautiful ass looked like a picture-perfect heart. I kissed it and ran my teeth over her, wanting to bite, but holding back.

  “Ahhh,” she quietly panted, but lifted her ass more.

  “You like that, don’t you?”

  “Mmmm,” she purred.

  I raked my teeth across her, a little harder that time, and she whimpered. Would I ever get bored discovering this woman? It wasn’t likely.

  I inched forward on the bed behind her, lifting her hips higher to meet mine. She looked back at me, over her shoulder. The sight of her dark hair flowing down her back was stunning. And I could have come right there, as she waved her ass, side to side, over my cock.

  “Do you want this?” I asked and gripped myself, running the tip of my erection against her. Back and forth, front to back, teasing her.

  Then, out of nowhere, my open hand met her ass. It was a move I hadn’t even seen coming. I only knew it happened when I heard the quick pop of my palm meeting her backside.

  “Yes,” she breathed. Her mouth hung open in surprise, as her tongue wet her lips.

  I pushed straight into her and she bowed under the pressure I applied. Wet and ready, she accepted me.

  “Yes,” she said again and pushed back. Loving the reaction the slap gave her, I let everything primal possess me. I pulled slowly out of her, bent forward, and kissed between her shoulder blades. Then my hand, from no farther away than from my side, swatted her again, as I pushed deeper into her.

  I watched her hands ball the pillowcase as she said my name.

  It was a new thing. It was exciting as hell. I fucked her like I craved and she responded by fucking me right back. I reached down and pulled her up with me, my front against her back as we both got closer to orgasm. My fingers roamed the top of the bed for her toy, and her head lulled on my chest as she rode me from the front.

  I found the vibrator and gently brought it around to her clit, then turned it on.

  She became a woman unleashed. Taking what she wanted, as I gave her everything I had. I leaned back, holding her to me, as she talked to God and me alike.

  When I came, just after her, with my mouth open, pressed against her neck, I told her I loved her. Because even at my most primal, barbaric and dominant, I did—and it was because of her I was that strong.

  Saturday, February 13, 2010

  I DREAMT OF STRONG arms holding me. And while I slept, I felt protected and cherished, because he was there with me.

  When I awoke the next morning, sprawled out with my head at the foot of my bed, I listened to Casey sing in the shower. He had some pretty good moments where he nailed it. But my favorite parts were when he ad-libbed the words through the parts he didn’t. I learned a lot of peculiar things about Beyoncé from his lyrics. Listening, I smiled and laughed into my sheets. He was ridiculous.

  Entering the steamy bathroom, it felt surreal stepping into a shower—in my home—that hosted a singing Casey Moore. It was my new favorite way to wake up. I wrapped my arms around his wet body from behind, as he rinsed his hair under the hot stream of water.

  “Good morning,” he said, as the turned around in my arms, slipping easily through my loose hug.

  “Great morning,” I corrected.

  With both hands, he pulled his hair back away from his face so he could see me. He placed a sweet kiss on my forehead, after ridding the
stream of water coming from his nose with a shake.

  “I didn’t know you were such a Beyoncé fan,” I said sarcastically, swapping spots to wet my hair.

  “I didn’t know I had an audience.” He squeezed his soap into a washcloth.

  I loved watching him shower. Naked. Wet. Soapy. Stretching. Rubbing.

  In the times we’d showered together, I’d often lost track of what I was supposed to be doing. He’d remind me, by handing me shampoo or body wash. It was a good thing he did that for me or I would stand there and watch him like a pervert the whole time.

  I also liked when he knew I was totally useless and washed my hair for me. He did a great job, his big hands reaching everywhere on my head all at once.

  “I’m hungry,” I admitted.

  He washed his underarms with something that smelled fresh and a little exotic. Casey’s hand reached the ceiling, he was tall and seemed so big like that.

  “Me too. Hey, I saw the for sale sign out front when I got here last night. Will you have to move if they sell it?”

  “I’m not sure. Dave—the guy who owns the place with his parents—said occupied places, like this, sell faster. So I don’t think so. That reminds me, he left a message saying that someone was looking at it on Monday around five. I need to write that down.”

  “Oh,” he said. “That’s a shame.”

  “What? You don’t like it? It’s pretty bare in here, huh?”

  “No, that’s not it. I just think it would be awful if you needed a place to live.”

  Wink.

  Oh. I saw where he was going with that. It was the second time he’d alluded to me moving in with him. The water in the shower was hot, but a different kind of warmth spread through and around my heart.

  I couldn’t wait until my divorce was final. Until all of this was just some stuff we went through in the beginning. Until I could actually think about possibly moving.

  I balanced myself on the tips of my toes and kissed him for his cute way of thinking.

  “I don’t think I’d ever have to worry about that. I’ll always have a place to go.”