by Virna DePaul
“Oh my gosh, this is gorgeous.” She gazed up at me with luminous eyes. “Wes, I think I have my video vixen outfit,” she breathed.
Fire flashed up my neck, lighting my imagination, then back down to my groin. “You’d look great in that.”
“Do you mind?” she asked, motioning to a dressing room off to the side.
“Go for it,” I said, dropping my hands from her and stepping back.
“Okay…close your eyes, then. I want you to be surprised.”
I kept my eyes shut as she rummaged around on the table and in a few of the racks. I heard the snick of the dressing room door and even then, my cock didn’t relax.
Hell yes I wanted to fuck Sara. There was no question about that. But what else? Why was the part of me that usually steered clear of entanglements pushing so hard to be with her? Asking her to be part of the video had been a spontaneous request—but that request had come from a deep need to keep Sara at my side. As I waited for her, leaning on the work table in the center of the room, littered with old scraps of fabrics and a measuring tape, I thought about the irony of the situation. Peter Crawford’s youngest daughter was naked—right now—in that dressing room, slipping into something that would surely make my heart pound.
For me, all for me.
Well, ultimately, she’d be doing it for our Point Break fans, but right here, right now…
At that moment, the dressing room door creaked.
“Let’s see it, Little Red.”
The woman who emerged from that dressing room was nothing short of a goddess.
“You like it?” Sara asked breathily. She swirled in front of me.
“You look good enough to eat, Little Red.”
Her full, soft tits were squeezed into a tight white tank top, the wig was short and platinum à la Atomic Blonde, dark Ray-Bans covered her eyes, and the shiny red skirt lit the whole thing on fire. To top it all off, she’d found a pair of black knee-high boots—probably a pair that Nikki had designed—that made me want to lift her onto the table and spread her knees wide. I sent a silent whisper of appreciation to Tucker’s girlfriend. Thank you, Nikki.
She smiled behind her big Ray-Ban sunglasses. Too bad they hid her emerald eyes, but I got flashes of those jewels whenever she tugged the glasses down. The costume was amazing, but the real fucking show-stopper was the way Sara wore it. Owned it.
My brain had entered the caveman stage, screaming, “Want! Take! Have!” in a loud chorus. I could fuck her hard against the fabric measuring table. For hours. In as many positions as she’d allow.
I swallowed, walked up to her, and pulled her into me. She laced her hands over my shoulders.
Finally, after days of not feeling her lips on mine, we kissed.
She tasted delicious, and there was that sweet smell of her skin again. “Amazing,” I mumbled between breaths.
“What is?”
“You.”
Though I wanted to throw her on the table and pound into her right this minute, I knew I needed to go slow. Hell, I wanted to go slow. To feel her curves, familiarize myself with her contours.
And yet in no time, our hands were all over each other, her body kept pressing into me, and I knew where it was headed.
“You sure about this?” Though there was no denying the messages of desire her body was clearly sending me, I wanted to hear her say the words. Admit she wanted me. Beg for me to take her.
“About what?” She breathed hard against my cheek. Her tits felt full and delicious in my hands. I gave her nipples a squeeze through the tank top and loved the gasp that followed.
“About us. Being here together, doing this.”
“Fuck yeah.”
Fuck yeah. Naughty words from sweet lips. I reeled hearing them, loved the shock of her tongue going dirty. I wondered how else she might go dirty. Did I have a wildcat on my hands? God, I hoped so.
Biting back my smile, I picked her up in my arms. She weighed nothing, felt light as a feather in my grip, a surprise considering she was tall and curvy. Setting her down on the table, I admired how good she looked while I ran my hands up and down her smooth thighs.
“You feel so fucking amazing, Little Red.”
She chuckled. “I’m not Little Red right now.”
I yanked off her wig and tossed it aside. Then I went to work, pulling out all the bobby pins she’d shoved into her gorgeous auburn hair until it cascaded over her shoulders. I ran my fingers through it, enjoying the softness.
“You’re always going to be my Little Red.”
Her green eyes glittered. “I don’t remember belonging to you.”
Grinning, I ran my tongue over my feral smile. “I’ll remind you.”
I slowly slipped a hand under her skirt’s hem, waiting for any clues that I should stop. When she didn’t give me any and instead leaned in close, I let my finger stroke against the center of her panties. Her head dipped back and a slight moan escaped her lips. Her eyelids fluttered closed. I discovered just the slightest hint of wet, and knew we could do better. I knew I could have her dripping for me. Increasing the pressure, I held my thumb against her clit and started to move it in tight circles.
She moaned and bucked against my hand. “Oh, my…”
“Oh, my what?” I probed.
“My God.”
“Not exactly my name, but I’ll take it. Talk to me, baby. What do you want?”
“I…I don’t know,” she whispered through a soft, open mouth.
“Yes, you do. I feel you getting wetter. You’re pressing up against my hand. So tell me what you want.”
“You.”
“Which part of me?”
“Your hand, what you’re doing right now…”
“Good, but you have to tell me who you belong to. If you want to enjoy this, you have to give yourself to me.”
Her heat was growing by the second, her panties beginning to soak through. She moaned softy.
“Yours. I’m yours.” As she spoke, her legs spread wider, giving me more access. It was an invitation Sara didn’t have to offer twice. With one hand, I kneaded the soft flesh of her right thigh and with the other, I broke away just long enough to slip my hand under the soft cotton of her panties. Then my fingers were able to trace over the soft, wet lips of her pussy.
“That’s it, baby…you’re already so wet for me, so ready.”
She nodded and bit her lower lip, as if she could fight off her need for me. Fat chance. Too late—she’d given in, and I was going to make her scream so loud everyone in this building was going to hear it.
“Please, Wes…”
“Open up your legs. Give me everything, Red. I want to feel everything you have.”
She complied, spreading her legs even farther, as one of her own hands gripped her hair and another one cupped a breast. Her eyes stayed closed, as though looking at me between her legs would send her over the edge.
“Good.” I’d always been a talker in bed, loved the way I could control others with my words, drive them and me to the heights of pleasure with just a phrase or two. “Fuck, baby,” I said, sliding my index finger inside of her.
Warm.
Wet.
Tight, but not so much that I couldn’t make headway. Despite her good girl image, I didn’t think Sara was a virgin. Judging from the way she became free and spirited in the elevator, I thought maybe she was doing all she could to shed her good girl imagine. But what I loved, what I really loved, was that I could still see it. Seeing Sara’s good girl persona attempting to be “bad” was sexier than being with a bad girl. I loved feeling deep inside her—the slickness of her channel and knowing she was that wet because of her anticipation for me.
I made her moan and buck against my left hand by slipping my middle finger into her pussy, fucking her with both my digits, as I plumbed her depths, pushed in and out via rapid succession.
“You’re tight and ready for me. I love that, Little Red. In a minute, you’ll be ready to go,” I said, pushing
my fingers in as deeply as I could. “Can you imagine what happens when I get the chance to fuck you all the way? When it’s my hard cock inside you?”
“I bet it’s big,” she gasped through her moans.
“Oh? Is that so? You tell me.” Holding on to her leg, I pushed my hips into it, so she could get a sense of how badly my cock wanted her right now. So she could judge for herself. “You’ll never feel fuller than when I’m screwing you, baby. That’s a goddamn promise so true, you can take it to the bank.”
“I want it, but not now.”
“You want me to save it?”
She nodded.
“Good, because I think I got you going just by touching you, baby.”
My balls were going to be neon blue before I got release, but it would have to be tonight or when I got her home. Because this, right now, was about her, about what Sara needed. I was going to give her an orgasm, but after being interrupted on the elevator, she needed to know she could trust me to wait to have intercourse, that we could have a safe, private space to make love.
“Wes, touch my clit again. Please.”
“Only because you asked so nicely.” I smiled. God, I loved hearing her beg for it and say the word clit. “But say it again.”
“Touch my clit, please.”
“Right here? This?” As I plunged in and out of her with two fingers, I pressed my thumb against that sensitive nub of hers and heard her moan again. This time, I didn’t have to do much pressing. She grabbed my fingers and bucked against them, rocking and fucking my hand, and I swear I thought my head would explode, it was so fucking sexy.
“Yes, that. And this. I need it all, Wes. Need you.”
I couldn’t torture her any longer, didn’t want to. Seeing her come would help take the edge off my own lust, fuel my dreams later tonight. My thumb twirled and twisted hard against her clit, even as my fingers thrust into her, and her whole hand aided the process along. She came then, her juices spilling over me as her core tightened around me. Sara screamed so loudly, I knew I’d be smiling all damn day just thinking about it.
“Yes, baby, that’s it. Come for me…good girl.”
Her moans died down to a soft mewl and then she sagged against my chest, completely spent and out of breath. “That was amazing,” she panted, once rational thought was an option for her. “I mean, wow.”
“Wow,” I repeated, kissing her, biting her lower lip a bit as I did. “You haven’t seen anything yet, Little Red. Just you wait until we level up.” As we kissed and I eased her off the table, helping her straighten out her outfit, I played out the encounter over and over in my mind. No, she’d definitely had sex before. She owned her sexuality and orgasms way too well. This was a woman who knew what she wanted, as evidenced by her grabbing my hand and making it do her bidding.
The contradiction of innocent and bad girl was making me dizzy. I had to see it again. To see her again. I had to make sure I wasn’t imagining the sexy combination.
And mostly, I had to bask in the sweet, complex essence of Sara for as long as I could.
Chapter 7
Sara
After Wes made me scream out my orgasm in the costume room of that warehouse, I’d been shaky, but in a good way. He’d waited as I changed back into my regular clothes and set aside the “video vixen” outfit for later, whenever the scene he’d be directing would be filmed. Then, he’d taken me in his arms again and given me the most delicious of kisses before breaking away.
“I can give you a ride home,” he finally said. Then he tilted his head to the side and added, “Or…”
I knew what he meant. Or we could go to his place. Desire shivered through me at the thought of going home with Wes and having sex—all night long. But was I ready?
He must have sensed my tension, because he released me and took a step back—not to leave me, but to give me space.
“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll hang out tomorrow. I mean,” he added, “if that works for you.”
I smiled. “Absolutely. I only have one class in the morning, and then I’m done.” I reached out and held his hands.
Suddenly he winced, and a look of regret crossed his face. “Shit. Sorry, Sara, but I’m booked the next few days with Point Break stuff. I’m not bullshitting you—I really want to see you again.”
“It’s okay. I have to do homework anyway. Just text me when you have time.”
He hesitated, frowning, looking conflicted like he wasn’t sure he could actually let me go, but then he nodded. “I’ll miss you, Little Red,” he said. What came next was a kiss—a sweet, sweet kiss that set my loins on fire again. I’d just had an orgasm a little while before, yet my body wanted more. Nobody had ever made me feel that way before.
And so we’d parted. I took the subway back to my dorm feeling like I was moving through a dreamy haze.
Now I was back, lying in bed. Staring at the ceiling. Catching my breath. Thank goodness my roommate Kass was off with her girlfriend—I needed time to think. Because what on heaven and earth was going on? I’d completely let Wes direct me inside that costume room. I hadn’t been paralyzed with fear, and I’d definitely wanted his touch. What we’d done together had been so amazing.
Yet now that he wasn’t with me, a big part of me felt like what we’d done was wrong. That I’d given myself way too easily to him, just like I had in the elevator on the night we met. I knew that was just my upbringing waging a battle inside my head, and that I needed to exorcise these demons from my life before they controlled me. Before they influenced me to do the last thing I wanted to do—which was to never see Wes again.
I wanted to see Wes, talk with Wes, laugh with Wes, sing with Wes, be with Wes.
I wanted his hands on me, telling me to give up control, to relinquish it, to trust him.
I wanted, someday even, to meet his bandmates. His friends.
Did that mean I was getting too close too fast?
Was this the start of something, or was Wes Shaw just having fun with me?
Should I shut up and enjoy it while it lasted or cut it off until I was certain there was something deeper happening between us?
The old Sara believed sexual contact should only be an extension of a deeper emotional and church-sanctioned connection, but the new Sara, the emerging feminist Sara, knew it didn’t have to be that way. I could “hook up” with a guy if that was what I wanted.
If the moment felt right.
Sex didn’t always have to lead to marriage.
Wow, who was I becoming? I laughed out loud in the emptiness of my dorm. I didn’t recognize my own thoughts, and yet I loved the power in them. Yeah, I believed I’d see Wes soon. It was what I wanted. But it had to stay a secret.
If push came to shove, however, and I found myself in the limelight for all the wrong reasons, would I be willing to risk losing my family over Wes? Because that’s what would happen—my father would forbid any sort of relationship with someone outside our faith, someone who prominently displayed all the things my father preached were immoral.
Despite my heavy thoughts, I yawned. Hmm, I needed a nap. All these emotions and stress and…oh, yeah, orgasms…were wearing me out. Maybe when I woke up, I’d have more answers. In the meantime, I’d fall asleep replaying the last two days’ events over and over in my mind. Running into Wes, having dinner with him, going to meet Henri today and convincing the director to give me a small part in Wes’s vision for his concert movie.
But the two things that kept replaying in my head were Wes’s luminous eyes and his mischievous smile. If Wes Shaw was bad for me, so be it. I’d deal with the consequences later.
Chapter 8
Wes
It’d been a great day and I’d hoped to bring Sara back to my place, but I respected her decision to go home. Still, though, regret had me down as I mulled over how busy I’d be with Point Break for the next few days. I felt like a kid again, counting down days until Christmas, only this time it was counting days until I could see Sara.
&n
bsp; I was almost home when I got a text from Ben.
Hey, handsome…there’s a surprise waiting for you at home…
With the happy face emoji.
The moment I read his text, I knew he was the surprise waiting for me.
Tension surged through my body like a goddamned tidal wave. Under any other circumstances, I’d be stoked to see Ben, but he’d asked me for commitment. I’d been gearing myself up to let him down as lightly as I could, but no matter what words I chose, I’d still hurt him.
I just had to make sure he knew I always wanted him in my life. That he was important to me. I wasn’t ever going to be like Lindsay, or my parents, or my youth group and church. I would never turn my back on someone I loved.
But would that be enough for Ben?
I glanced down at the text again and couldn’t help but smile, even as I worried. Ben had a habit of showing up unannounced at whatever city we happened to be playing, but also leaving little clues like this one. It was like he had every intention of surprising me, but for the life of him, he couldn’t keep his own surprise.
When I walked through the door, sure as shit, I was right. Ben was hanging in the kitchen, eating yogurt out of the large container. Only he wasn’t alone. Vickie sat cross-legged on the counter, going through my mail. How did my friends always manage to find their way inside when I’d never given them a key?
“Ben. I figured I’d see you. Vickie’s a surprise, though,” I said, kicking the door shut behind me. Part of me wanted to take Ben in my arms and hold him tight, but with Vickie here…
“Hey, buddy.” Ben slid up to me and slapped a kiss on my cheek while Vickie chuckled. Vickie laughed because she knew Ben was gay but she didn’t know I was bi. To her, Ben was my gay friend who liked to tease “straight” me about it.
Ben’s kiss, however, also reminded me that the amazing girl I’d spent today with didn’t actually know me very well. If I was just after casual sex with her, I wouldn’t even consider telling her I was bi—again, no one’s business but mine—but already I suspected I wanted more than that from her. I could see us exploring something deeper, and if things continued to go that way, I’d eventually have to tell her. Given her background and who her father was, I didn’t want her blindsided. I didn’t want her to think I was keeping secrets.