Time that our inevitable departure was suddenly chipping away at.
I slid down my boxer shorts and pulled a condom from my wallet. After rolling it on, I pulled her hips toward me with a quick tug, and she opened her thighs for me. There were so many options to choose from, and I made a quick assessment of all the ways I wanted to have her. My rough hands smoothed over her hipbones and up to her waist, marveling at how soft she was—softer than I had imagined. She was delectable by every definition, and I hoped that she’d be able to come more than once, because my intentions were to have a few rounds of this.
But first, I needed to taste her.
Wasting no time, I slid my tongue down to her center, snaking my arms around her thighs. She tasted even better than I thought she would, better than any woman that came before her, and she arched her back as she grabbed my hair, crooning my name.
I slipped my tongue inside of her, tasting her arousal and lapping it up until she had nothing more to offer.
I slipped a finger inside of her, then another, moving them rhythmically. My tongue swept in circles over her tender clit, and she continued calling my name in a hushed whisper. I slipped in one more finger, watching her writhe in arousal.
“Mmmm, Michael.”
I loved it when she said my name.
I smiled against her, watching her expression. Her eyes were closed tight, and while one hand fisted my hair, her other fisted the white cotton sheets. A small wrinkle formed between her eyes, and she bit down on her lip.
Her thighs grinded against my head as she pulled her hips from the bed to bury my face between her legs. I welcomed it; I longed for it too. And my erection was so full it was almost painful; I suffered not being inside of her.
But she needed to relax.
I needed to make her come.
Keeping my fingers inside of her, I inched my mouth up her soft stomach until I reached her neck. Dotting small kisses up to her ear, I took her lobe into my mouth, gently nipping. With my warm breath on her neck, she moaned my name again, and her clenching eased instantly. Her thighs spread farther and her breathing resumed to an even pace.
I took my time going back down, relaxing her further, and taking her nipple between my teeth playfully. Her heady scent left me foggy with desire, making my head spin with each inhale.
“Jesus. What perfume do you wear?” I whispered.
“None. It’s the hotel’s complementary jasmine-scented body soap.”
Jasmine.
I’ll have to remember that.
I removed my fingers and pushed her thighs down until they reached the bed. I took her bud into my mouth, sucking it and moving my lips and tongue up slowly, and then down again. Her moans were a sweet song sung, and soon her body began to quake.
Her breathing changed again, from long inhales to short, uneven breaths. Her hands found purchase on the headboard, and she pushed herself down further, creating more friction and intensity.
She was ready to come. The small crease on her forehead deepened, and she took short deep breaths with every sweep of my tongue.
I hummed into her pussy, and she lost it.
“Holy shit, Michael!” she screamed. And all I could do was watch her face contort into anguish, then release.
I nipped gently, kissed her thighs, and waited until her breathing returned to normal. She lay like a puddle of goo on the bed, and I crawled up alongside her, watching her chest rise and fall. A silly smile played on her face and she kept her eyes closed, waiting for the last of the tingling to subside.
We lay side by side. A sheen of dampness dotted on her forehead, and by how cool the sheets felt under me, I also had worked up a sweat. But I wasn’t nearly done with her. Those fifteen minutes were only the beginning.
I smiled and leaned in to kiss her. Then I pulled her on top of me and she parted her lips so that our tongues could dance. Her breasts brushed against my chest as she straddled me, while moving her hips so that her slippery sex became a blissful tease against my length.
Rising up and down again, she continued slowly. Her puckered nipples grazed against me, and her eyes stayed shut. It was one of the sexiest things I’d ever been witness to.
She pulled her lips from mine again, and I immediately missed the warmth when they were gone. But the second I laid my eyes on her naked body above me, I knew I could do without her soft mouth for a few minutes.
Exquisite.
Her breasts were soft and supple, her nipples forming peaks of perfection pointing slightly upward. She arched her back, and her ribcage became pronounced as she began to rock. “You feel so good,” she purred, continuing her sensual tease.
I shifted my cock to the front of her, and she moved up and down, rubbing her clit against me. The slower she went, the slicker she got, and I knew she was ready for me.
“Lie down, Lauren.”
Her eyes flickered down to mine, and a smile rose to her cheeks. She did as I instructed, lying down on the bed beside me. I crawled between her legs, pinning her knees to her chest.
I positioned the tip of my cock at her entrance, ready to ease my way inside. She was slick enough, but it would take some maneuvering to get myself where I ached to be.
Inch by inch I filled her, and passionate torment took over her features. She tried to hide it by biting down on her lip, but her clenching gave her away. I let out all the air from my lungs and buried my face in her neck. She felt so fucking good.
“Breathe,” I said, letting go of her knees. I stayed nestled inside, unmoving, and kissed both of her eyebrows, making her face soften again.
“Breathe,” she said aloud, reminding herself, and it made me smile.
I wiped the hair from her forehead, pushing it behind her ears to study her face. Her lashes were long and dark. Small freckles graced the bridge of her nose, with a few sprinkled across her cheeks. The vein that ran down her neck was small and vulnerable, and I could almost see how fast the blood rushed through it. Because mine was doing the same. I kissed her shoulder and thrust in as deep as I could go.
All of the air escaped her lungs, and she squeaked out a small mewl. I continued in and out slowly until a smile appeared on her face. “You’re being gentle,” she said.
I rested my forehead on her chest, kissing the soft and tender skin between her breasts. “I’m going slow, like I said I would.”
She laughed. “I’m not going to break, you know.”
I laughed with her. “No, but if I go fast, I’m going to come in thirty seconds.”
She covered her mouth, trying to tame her giggle. “That’s super. A word of advice: don’t say something like that to just anyone. For me, it comes off as charming, but the average girl might consider it a turnoff.”
I laughed into her breasts, feeling my hot breath against her skin. “Noted.”
Picking up on her hint, I quickened my pace slightly, and all smiles vanished from us. Our breathing intensified and the sweat between our bodies gathered, making every surface I touched slippery and starving for more. But with Lauren I knew I’d never be satisfied, and I’d always want more.
Our eyes locked, our foreheads touched, and our breath synchronized as I got lost in the sensations that made Lauren the only woman in the world that mattered. Or could ever matter.
She lifted her legs straight in the air until her ankles sat on my shoulders, and I pulled her hips to mine. We groaned loudly together, feeling the deepest penetration. Her soft, smooth calves rubbed against my collarbone, and I knew I wouldn’t last much more than a minute in this position. She was absolutely beautiful displayed before me. Her image, paired with the sensation… I was about to become the saddest lay in Lauren’s short-lived history.
But I couldn’t help it.
I was too greedy. Too infatuated. And too much of a slave to the goddess beneath me.
She was everything I thought I wanted in a woman and then some. Just when I didn’t think that someone like her could exist, fate picked a hell of a time to in
troduce us.
I wasn’t so gentle anymore, and the strain returned to her face. But she was so damn slick that I couldn’t help but think I was doing something right—for both of us. Because I was seconds away from my orgasm.
I propped myself up on one hand and grabbed hold of one of her calves, gently kissing the inside of her leg. But my lips lingered, as there were other parts of my body that needed my full attention. And as I came, I bit down on her calf, and a small yelp came from below me.
The sensation ripped through me, again and again, quickly weakening my body. My shoulders relaxed, my hands went limp, and I slumped into her with one last thrust and a deep, visceral groan.
I collapsed on top of her, milking my orgasm with several slow thrusts and breathing heavily, watching her hair blow with each exhale. She wrapped her arms and legs around me, folding me up in my own personal Lauren blanket.
Once I caught my breath, I finally said, “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry I bit your leg.”
She laughed and looked down. “You didn’t draw blood, so I’d say I’m going to be fine. However, because of your dick, I might be walking strangely for a month.”
We laughed and I rolled off of her, bouncing down on the bed next to her. Lauren pulled the thin bedsheet over her body, and I snatched it from her and took it off again. “Are you cold?” I asked.
“Um, no.”
“Then don’t cover yourself. I want to look at you.”
She licked her lips and twisted her hair, trying to fight her insecurities.
“Lauren, look at me.”
She swallowed and her eyes met mine.
“You are perfect for me. Your body is the epitome of my definition of sexy. So please, don’t be shy. I want to look. And I want you to know I’m watching you. In the least creepy way possible.” I tugged on her chin gently and chuckled, then pulled her gaze to mine. “Every woman I’m ever with for the rest of my life, I’ll be constantly comparing to this moment. You. This body. This heart. And this woman. I don’t want to let you go tomorrow,” I hesitated, surprised at my own words, “but I think you already knew that.”
She rested her head on my shoulder and didn’t speak. I imagined she was struggling with the same affliction as me: wishing we could find a way for it to work. But there was nothing we could do.
“I’ve never met anyone like you, Michael. You have the mind of a geek, down to the core, and the tact and poise of a true gentleman. I didn’t think they made them like you anymore.”
“I’m really not that chivalrous. I hold grudges easily and my pride gets in the way a lot. I’m really not a gentleman at all, to be honest.”
“Well you have been with me.”
“Have I?”
She held out her hand, counting on her fingers. “You’ve held open doors, steered me clear of puddles, let me choose everything, surprised me with something sweet, paid for every single thing we’ve eaten, partaken in, and experienced today. I haven’t been too cold, I haven’t been too hungry, and I’m pretty sure that anything that would’ve been within your means to get for me, you would have. I’d say that’s pretty damn chivalrous.”
“I’ve spilled coffee on you, considered having sex with your best friend, made you slip in a muddy puddle, broke your glasses, and spent all of about forty dollars on our day date. I’d say I’ve done everything wrong,” I said.
“Yeah, you are kind of a jackass,” she laughed, leaning over and giving me a kiss.
“I was just doing all of those things to get you to smile,” I whispered. “I love your smile.”
She tried to cover her mouth, but I saw how the compliment made her feel. “Well, you know what they say: ‘a good man is hard to find.’”
“Always with the clichés.” I chuckled. I thought briefly of the perfect cliché I could use for us. And once I found it, I shouted it out. “If you love something, set it free!”
She looked sad for a moment, her eyebrows pulling together, and then she smiled and shook her head. “No, Michael. Just no. Every man has stupid thoughts, only the wise man chooses to remain silent.” She nudged, and I stared at her blankly.
“Never mind,” she added. “That’s a Swedish one.”
Cliché Twelve:
The fucking cliffhanger.
Lauren and I made love until late into the morning before we finally passed out from exhaustion.
I woke early to a tickle on my back, and felt Lauren’s arms wrap around me. I opened my eyes lazily and turned to see her eyes closed, and she snored softly. But we both must have fallen back asleep, because when I woke again later, she was still sleeping next to me.
Glancing over to where the clock should have been, I slid on my glasses to get a clearer look. But in our acrobatic adventures between the sheets the night before, one of us must have kicked it off the nightstand. And consequently, it wasn’t working.
I turned on my phone, seeing six missed messages. Two were from Duncan, I had a text message from Martin—saying he was spending the night with Monica—and four missed calls from an unknown number.
Tossing the sheet from myself, I rose and walked to the bathroom to check my voicemail.
“Hello, Michael. Professor Richardson here. I missed my flight to Washington on Thursday, and then had a small emergency I had to deal with on Friday. Saturday came, and when I finally arrived at the convention, the only one of you I could find was Jack! With a busted nose, no less. Anyway, I have an important message I need to speak with you about in person. Please call me as soon as you get this.”
I erased the message and listened to the next.
“Mike, it’s me again. Listen, something has come up and you’re needed urgently. I don’t care what time it is when you call, just please, call!”
The last two messages were similar, so I called him back immediately.
“Hello, Michael?”
“Yeah, hey. What’s going on, Professor?” I asked.
“Thank God. I hope it’s not too late. How quickly can you get downstairs in the lobby? I don’t care if you’ve showered, just make yourself presentable.”
I laughed. “What’s this all about?”
“The Seattle job. Put on some deodorant and a shirt, and meet me down here in five minutes!”
“Ooo…kay.”
He hung up the phone without giving me any further information. So I grabbed the clothes from the night before off of the floor and gave Lauren a quick kiss. I scribbled a note and left it on the nightstand that read:
Hey gorgeous. I’ll be back soon. Just had to run downstairs quick to speak to my professor. XOXO Michael
I grabbed my wallet and closed the door quietly, then took the elevator down to the lobby.
I spotted my gray-haired professor right away. His tiny spectacles sat on his wide cheeks like Santa Claus’s.
“Hey!” I shook his hand. “Good to finally see you.”
“We don’t have much time. I know your flight takes off at noon today, but I was able to get you a coffee appointment with Grant Knox. He was impressed with your credentials.” Richardson smiled. “He was also impressed with the good word I’ve been putting in for you for the last three months.”
“Grant Knox, the CEO of Bolten and Knox?”
“That’s the one. You have five minutes to get to the Starbucks five blocks away.” He looked at his watch. “You’d better go now.”
“Shit! Okay. I can do this. Right? I mean, I can totally do this. Oh God, I’m stuttering.”
Richardson laughed. “You’ve got this, Mike. Just be you. And if you don’t get it, it’s not the end of the world.”
I nodded, looking around me.
Shit! Lauren! I can’t leave without saying goodbye. I have to be at the airport at ten o’clock. It was 7:56 a.m. when I looked at my watch. No, it’ll be fine. This will probably only take thirty minutes, and I’ll be back in her warm bed before she wakes. “I have plenty of time,” I accidentally said aloud.
“Four minutes, five blocks. Go
!” he shouted.
I raced out the door and looked back. “Which direction?” I shouted.
“East! Hurry!”
So I sprinted five blocks east, dodging women with strollers, people out walking their dogs, rocks, Frisbees, fruit stands, newspaper stands, and a group of lip syncing mimes. By the time I arrived at the coffee shop, I had fourteen seconds to spare.
I wiped the sweat from my brow and took a deep breath to gain my composure. The fresh coffee beans hit my senses, and I decided to grab a bag to bring back to Lauren. She might appreciate fresh coffee on a Sunday. I smiled at the thought and moved up in line to order.
The small room was packed with people, but I had no idea who I was looking for.
The barista handed me my coffee and I saw a man seated alone toward the back, wearing a sweater-vest and an old-fashioned suit coat with patches at the elbows. So I shoved the dark roasted beans under my arm and approached him.
“Mr. Knox?”
“Yes! You must be Michael,” he shouted and held out his hand.
“Hey, do you mind if we sit outside? It’s really loud in here.”
He nodded, grabbed his coffee and newspaper, and followed me outside to a small table on the corner.
“I figured we’d have better chances talking over the traffic than in there,” I said. “Thank you for meeting me. I’m glad I was able to make it.”
“Chuck Robinson has been telling me great things about you. Have you always wanted to be a copywriter?”
“Well, I have a passion when it comes to most of the written word. I was an English major…”
The morning went by quickly. Mr. Knox was keenly interested in my background, and paid special attention to details, adding in industry jargon that he hoped I’d pick up on. And I never faltered. If I had questions, I asked, and answered all of his questions promptly and thoroughly.
Four Play: A Collection of Novellas Page 31