Last Fall

by Alexis Anne

  At least that was how it felt as I snuck from our private little suite into the kitchen. The house was still quiet but I knew Zoe would stir soon and she liked her coffee with a snack so she could scribble for a few minutes in peace. And since I was apparently in charge of breakfast I wanted to make sure she had everything she needed when she woke up.

  That, and I couldn’t lie still another second. I had way too much raw energy pumping through me. Like the morning after a big win, except this victory was only the beginning.

  “Can I get a cup of that?” a very groggy sounding Mary asked as she slid onto a barstool and rested her forehead on the counter.

  I poured a cup from the still perking pot. “How do you take it?”

  “Black is fine.” She didn’t move.

  “You look beat. Maybe you should go back to bed?”

  She shot me a glare and took the coffee. “I’ve been awake for an hour. I can’t sleep.”

  “So coffee it is then. So what does breakfast look like around here?”

  She grinned. “So they roped you into breakfast did they? Well, Wes makes us pancakes so I’d avoid that.”

  Wes? The uncomfortable sensation of jealousy pricked my skin. “You’ve had Wes’s pancakes?”

  “Well, yeah. Whenever he tags along to a signing he makes us pancakes.”

  I really hated that I was becoming more jealous by the second. Was it too much to want just one thing that was new and special for me and Zo? Did Wes and Carrie and June and Eve have to already be part of everything? I loved them all, really I did, but sometimes it felt like a weight chained to my ankle.

  “I guess I temporarily forgot Wes was on Zoe’s covers.” And that he’d been to her signings before. And met her friends.

  I cracked my neck.

  “He’s fun but he doesn’t really spend much time with us. Mostly he makes pancakes, helps us get over to the event, buys drinks afterward, and then leaves. He doesn’t spend an evening at the house with us or sleep over in Zoe’s room or anything like that.”

  Like hell he slept over. That was one thing that was absolutely, completely mine.

  But I still didn’t feel better. I opened the fridge and started assembling a snack plate. Cheese, grapes, crackers, and a couple of strawberries. I poured myself a cup of coffee. “So eggs would be good?”

  “Eggs would be great. We picked up all kinds of stuff at the store yesterday. Use whatever you like. And there’s no rush. I think I’m the only one awake so far.”

  I downed my coffee, rinsed the mug, and made Zoe’s. “Can I get you anything before I head back to bed?”

  “No,” she shook her head, grinning wide. “You’re already doing plenty. Keep up the good work.” She held up her mug then wandered out onto the back deck.

  I gathered my supplies and quietly made my way back to my woman. I was just setting her plate on the nightstand when she smiled. “There you are. Where did you go?”

  “To get you fuel, beautiful.” I sat on the bed beside her. “Did you get enough sleep?”

  “Mmmm.” She stretched, her naked breasts appearing and disappearing as she moved.

  My blood pumped south. “How are you feeling?” I meant that in many ways. I wanted to be sure we were still on the same page, that she was good with what we did last night, that she wasn’t in pain.

  She fully blinked her eyes open and all I could do was hold my breath. Otherwise I might maul her with the overly enthusiastic things I really wanted to do.

  “I feel really good.”

  “Yeah?”

  She took my hand. “How do you feel?”

  Other than a slightly odd conversation in the kitchen? “Like I’m the luckiest guy on the whole planet.”

  “Gosh I love it when you say stuff like that.”

  She nibbled on her lower lip and even more of my blood flowed south in a situation that was quickly becoming critical. “Are you sore?”

  She shrugged. “Probably? I feel fine right now.”

  Well that was good, but it was probably not a great idea to suggest wild morning sex even if it was pretty much the only thing I could think of right then.

  “Erik?”

  I forced myself to stop thinking about being buried inside her. “Yeah?”

  “Sore and stiff are good things.”

  “I don’t like the idea of anything causing you any pain. Not even for really good reasons like you and me,” I ran my thumb over her cheek, “being together.”

  “Not even if I ask you for it?”

  She was trying to kill me. I was sure of it. “I’m happy with last night.”

  “That’s not what I asked you.”

  Yep. Definitely trying to kill me. “I find it hard to say no to anything you ask for, Zo.”

  “Good.” She took my thumb and kissed it, then tasted it, then sucked on the tip. Fuck. “Because I don’t think I can wait all day to do that again.”

  Was I imagining the way her pupils were dilating and her cheeks were turning pink again? “What are you saying?” I croaked like a teenager.

  Because oh god how I wanted her again.

  “Once wasn’t enough, Erik. I want to have sex again.”

  “Right now?”

  She shoved the sheet down so I had a view of her perfect breasts. “I’ve had all night to recover. Hours and hours of recovery.” She took my hand and put it on her soft, warm, amazing breast. “Hours and hours of reliving what we did. I can’t wait all day.”

  “You’re the boss.” I was on top of her in a flash.

  “I do remember you saying something about liking bossy women,” she giggled as I kissed her everywhere.

  “How could any man not enjoy this kind of bossy?”

  She froze for the briefest of moments—just long enough for me to notice the change. She recovered almost instantly so I didn’t say a word. Instead I went about what I considered the most important job I’d ever had. I just wanted her to feel safe. So safe she never had to freeze or hesitate about anything ever again.

  “All I could think about as I was waking up,” she said between soft little pants, “was how I wanted to feel you on top of me, moving slow so I could memorize how every single thing felt.”

  We had slightly different fantasies of what our mornings could look like but I didn’t care because the most important thing of all was that she woke up fantasizing about us being together again. My last doubt disappeared and a rather obnoxious amount of pride replaced it.

  I had satisfied my woman and she wanted more.

  And if she wanted it slow in order memorialize it, well then that was exactly what I was going to do.

  “Don’t move a muscle.” I held up a finger and gave her a suggestive eyebrow waggle that made her laugh. “You aren’t the only one who needs to make memories.” I located a condom and then found my phone. “After our night of dancing I made a playlist.” I found it and hit play. “This is how I make memories.”

  Music was so much of my life. I could remember birthdays, Christmases, first days of school, the day my dad died, all by the music that was playing.

  Our relationship was no different.

  She started giggling when Maroon 5’s “Won’t Go Home Without You” started playing. “What is this?”

  I stripped my clothes off and rolled on the condom. “Two years ago. We’d met maybe three or four times and I had it bad.” I fell on the bed pretending to clutch my heart. “This beautiful, gorgeous, brilliant woman with these big green eyes was all I could think about but she wouldn’t give me the time of day.” I rose up and over her. “I was driving over to Jake and Eve’s for a party and I knew you’d be there. This song came over the radio and I thought yes I won’t go home without her knowing how I feel.”

  “Oh god.” She covered her face. “Don’t tell me that was the night I flipped out on you.”

  “That was the night.” I peeled her hand back and kissed her cheek, using my nose to nudge her other hand away. “I thought damn, this girl wants
nothing to do with me but I couldn’t stop thinking about what would have happened if you’d said yes. Every time this damn song came on the radio, I thought about you.”

  I settled my hips against hers, loved the way it felt having her knees pulled up around me.

  “So you made it the first song on our playlist? This seems wrong somehow.”

  “Nope.” I kissed the side of her neck and sucked softly. “It’s perfect because now I won’t ever go home without you.”

  “Oh,” she sighed as I kissed her again. “Well I guess that’s sweet.”

  “Just because the timing was off didn’t mean we weren’t meant to be.” I rocked my hips forward, testing her theory that she was recovered enough for sex. And sure enough, she hissed. “Bad?”

  “Not bad. Just . . . uncomfortable. It stings a little.” Then she clamped down on my shoulders. “Don’t you dare suggest we stop.”

  “I won’t. But I will suggest we spend a little more time turning you on.” I didn’t wait for any of her replies. I inched down and went right for the breasts I really hadn’t gotten to worship enough the night before. They were so pale and soft and round with dark pink tips that belonged in my mouth. She liked the way I sucked on them softly, arching up for more and moaning the word yes over and over until it wasn’t really a word. When her hips started to grind against my abs I moved to the other side, hesitating in order to draw out the anticipation.

  I huffed some hot air over the surface and then tongued the tip. I did it again, then waited for her growl of frustration before I did it again. I’d made a great big huge highlighted note in my sex book last night when Zo had gotten worked up. Playing with her nipples had been like turning a key in a lock. I was happy to see the key still worked today.

  Very well, actually. With her head thrown back and her hands wrapped in the sheets as she arched up to meet my mouth, she was basically serving herself up to me. I just followed her yeses, happily providing service where needed.

  I circled the tip with my tongue then provided suction. When that seemed to become less effective I used my teeth. Light little teases at first. Nibbles really. Her hips ground up harder and my dick throbbed to be right where she beckoned me, but not yet.

  I needed be sure she was ready because once I entered the Promised Land I did not want to be kicked out. I rolled to her side.

  “No,” she whimpered. “Why did you stop? Oh—”

  I cupped her with my hand at the same time I went back to teasing her pink peaks. Wet. Very wet. Hot. Supple. She didn’t hiss this time. Granted my index finger was a far cry from the erection I had bobbing between us. Still, I sank it inside without any resistance at all. Then two.

  She sighed. “Oh Erik. Yes.”

  I felt the pulse of her inner muscles as they clenched my fingers and almost jumped on top of her. Instead I did the work. I thrust my fingers in and out several times. Stretched her a bit.

  “I want you. Please?” she moaned.

  “Yes.” I moved back over the top of her and positioned myself. I sank in nice and slow then pulled back, making sure to get well lubricated before I settled down on my forearms and kissed her. “It feels okay?”

  “Okay? It feels fucking amazing.” She tilted her hips and took me a little deeper.

  Zoe almost never swore. “Fucking amazing?” I repeated.

  She rocked her hips again, whimpering. “Yes.”

  “Is this slow enough?” God, I hoped so. If I went any slower I might die.

  “It’s perfect. I can feel everything. Every inch of you. Your body, your cock, the way you fill me.”

  I hadn’t realized how much I was going to love falling for a writer. If she could narrate all our sex, that’d be fantastic. I slid inch by inch, using my weight to enter her. When she wanted more she rolled her hips. And then when there was no more of me to go around, she grabbed my hips and forced herself even further onto my dick.

  Since she wanted it slow I didn’t move. “What are you memorizing right now?”

  I felt the little flutters of her inner muscles and knew she had to be feeling quite a bit.

  “I’m on fire. I want more and can’t take anymore.”

  Heck yeah. “And?”

  “I think I might be coming.”

  Already? I surged forward and sure enough those flutters grew stronger. “Babe, you ready?”

  “No. Yes. Yes.” I reared back and slid slow and deep again.

  She cried out, digging her nails into my shoulder.

  I thrust again.

  That did it. She came. I held it together but just barely. I mean, feeling the woman you love completely lose it because of what you were doing to her? Pretty fucking fantastic.

  She smiled up at me all lazy and satisfied so I let go, too. Moving faster and faster, thinking that nothing had ever felt this good as her warmth squeezed my dick tight. I thrust deep and came, already wanting to do it all over again.

  Everything was black and fantastic for a while. Just really good vibes and this feeling of rightness. As I slowly came back up to reality my thoughts really sank in.

  This was so much more than a good time.

  I was in love with Zoe.

  Not maybe in love.

  Not falling.

  I was already there.

  22

  ERIK

  Granting Rights to Shirtlessness

  After the game Friday night, Wes came down to the beach house with me. Carrie had an unexpected surgery in the morning so he decided why not hitch a ride with Erik.

  Luckily he really was happy for us now that we were together and he mostly left me alone to drive in peace while he stuffed his ugly face with food. I only had to shoot him a death stare when he asked how the sex was and he ignored me for the rest of the drive.

  I pretended I didn’t see how happy the girls were when Wes arrived and kept my focus on the only one who really mattered. Then in the morning we gave them all a show worthy of inspiring some new heroes.

  “Can you give the potatoes a shake?” I asked. My hands were full with veggie omelets.

  “Shaken,” Wes said, turning back to his pancakes.

  Our audience watched. All seven of them lined up in chairs and barstools with mimosas in their hands.

  Oh, and Wes and I were shirtless.

  Possibly dangerous considering the stove, but the greasy stuff was in the oven so I was pretty sure we were safe. The girls thought it was fun and Zoe hadn’t stopped smiling since we put on our red ruffled aprons, so I didn’t really care if we were ridiculous or brilliant.

  “I like my bacon un-burnt,” Alexandra said while clearing her throat.

  Wes peeked into the oven. “Two more minutes and it will be perfect. I promise.” Then he winked and she grinned into her champagne flute.

  “More champagne anyone?” Julia asked holding up the bottle.

  Alexandra held out her now empty glass.

  “Who wanted the veggie omelet, minus the tomatoes?” I glanced down the line.

  Alexis raised her hand. I plated her omelet and slid it down the bar. “Order up!” Julia and Laura both held up phones. “Uh, what are you two doing?”

  “They’re Instagramming, buddy,” Wes said as he passed me with a plate of pancakes. “Right now you’re live on my feed.” Then he winked and waved toward Julia.

  Son of bitch. I supposed it was inevitable. “Couldn’t you have at least warned me?”

  Wes patted my cheek. “Don’t worry, Princess. Your hair and makeup look beautiful.”

  “And what are you doing?” I asked Laura.

  “Documenting for posterity!” she grinned. “Taking pictures and videos and saving them to our group folder to be used as we each wish.”

  “Again,” I looked to Zoe for help, “don’t I get a say in this? Shouldn’t I have to sign something granting you rights to my shirtlessness?”

  But my lady just laughed at me and I really liked the sound. “Erik. Do you consent to giving us video and photo rights t
o your sexy body and rough voice? This is on Wes’s Instagram for the record.”

  “Sexy body and rough voice? Well, how can I say no?” I looked at the girls holding the phones and said, “I give my full consent.”

  We got a lot of giggling as we finished serving up our breakfast and Wes’s theatrics reached eye-rolling heights, but I had to admit it was fun. While the writers rushed off to get dressed for the signing, Wes and I cleaned the kitchen.

  “Don’t you need to get pretty?” I teased him.

  He glanced at his reflection in the window and messed his hair. “Nope. All I need are jeans and a tight t-shirt.”

  “Does Carrie get jealous?” They were two loud, passionate people. I wouldn’t be surprised if Carrie didn’t like lines of women drooling over her husband.

  Seven writers? Sure. Why not? They were Zoe’s friends and it was fun. But spending four hours on display was different.

  “A little,” he shrugged. “She doesn’t mind most of the time. She’s got nothing to worry about and really?” He shoved a finger in my chest. “That’s the key to a good relationship.”

  “Trust?”

  “And respect,” he said. “My woman knows that she owns me and I couldn’t be happier about it. If she had doubts I’d erase them, not so I could have my freedom but because we don’t work if we aren’t on the same page. The lives we lead? Me on the road half the year? Her being all sexy and successful . . . we got to know that we’re a team. An unbreakable team. She needs me? I’m fucking there. She comes first.”

  “But who would catch for us?” I joked before quickly realizing that to Wes this was not a joking matter.

  “Not funny, man. At some point there’s going to be something. And you two will need to know how you’re going to handle the pressures.”

  How did we plan for what we didn’t know? “Okay.”

  “If I got hurt this week you know Carrie would be on the first plane. She wouldn’t have to think. I don’t have a road mistress. I don’t fuck around on her. She doesn’t need to go through my agent to know where I am. We have no secrets. She’d drop everything without a second thought because I make sure she has nothing to doubt. Plus I don’t ever see her letting another doctor touch me ever again.”