Ice Cream Lover

by Jackie Lau

  Chapter 13

  Chloe

  Drew and I are sitting side-by-side in a small-plates restaurant just off College Street. The bartender pours my pink drink into a glass with a flourish and garnishes it with a skewer of raspberries. Then he makes Drew’s less colorful drink.

  It’s a Southeast Asian fusion place in an old, narrow house. The lights are dim; the décor is eclectic. It has a quirky, intimate feel.

  Not that it matters much. We could be at a Taco Bell right now and I would still be bouncing in my seat, as long as he was sitting next to me.

  Drew is wearing a black button-down shirt and dark jeans, and he looks pretty hot. Me, on the other hand? I’m wearing the same thing I put on this morning: jeans and the burgundy shirt that my friends said did great things for my boobs. I thought I looked cute earlier, but now, I fear I look a little ragged.

  But when I run my hand up Drew’s thigh, he inhales sharply.

  I used to be good at this stuff. I dated a lot in university, and it was fun. Tonight, however, I find myself second-guessing everything, and I have no idea what to say. I’ve already told him lots of things, some of which I’ve never told anyone else.

  I really want this to go well.

  Just relax. It’s Drew. Everything will be okay.

  The music is a mix of hits from the seventies, eighties, and nineties, and the piña colada song comes on. When I giggle, he turns to me and raises an eyebrow.

  “I’m picturing you drinking a piña colada,” I say, “with a pineapple garnish and a little umbrella.”

  “Oh, the horror,” he mutters.

  I wrap my arm around him and sing along for a few lines. “You seem a bit tense.”

  “I haven’t been on a date in a long time.”

  “Same here.”

  I pull back, and we look at each other, really look at each other in the dim light of the restaurant. When I start singing again, he gives me a hint of a smile. Or perhaps that’s my imagination. There are a couple candles on the bar, and shadows flicker over his face.

  “I take it you don’t sing,” I say.

  He shakes his head.

  “Or dance.”

  “That would be a no.”

  “Or write poetry?

  “As if.”

  “But here’s something you do.” I lower my voice and shift my stool closer to his so I can press up against his arm. “You think of me when you’re in the shower.”

  And now, I have completely shifted the mood.

  “I told you I would do that,” he says, a little hoarsely.

  “Sometimes, I think you jerk off when you think of me in the shower.”

  “Christ, Chloe.”

  Tonight, I want the physical intimacy that we both crave. I’m determined to make him want me more than he’s ever wanted anyone. I want to seduce him, but I don’t simply want to seduce him for the physical act of sex; I need it to be more than just a fuck, and I think he needs it, too.

  I lean in again. With the music and the chatter around us, if I whisper in his ear, no one will hear. “I want to know if you got yourself off that night in the shower. I thought of you doing it, you know.”

  Lately, this hasn’t been me. I’ve gone after some things I want—like the ice cream shop—but I haven’t been brave with people. I haven’t told my friends and family what I’m really thinking, and I haven’t gone after people I want romantically.

  Though I hadn’t wanted anyone for a long time before I met Drew.

  I take a deep breath. “I went home, and I made myself come as I pictured you alone in the shower, fisting your cock, soapy water cascading over your skin.”

  “Fuck,” he says, as though he’s in physical pain.

  As though hearing me talk like this is too much for him to bear.

  “So,” I say casually, “did you think of me and jerk off while I was thinking of you?”

  “Yes.” His voice is clipped, but his warm breath caresses my cheek. “You know I did.”

  I shift awkwardly in my seat, my pulse throbbing between my legs, and just as I’m about to speak again, a plate of mango salad with skewers of shrimp is set in front of us.

  Right. Food.

  * * *

  We stumble into his apartment after midnight, and as soon as the door closes, he flicks on the lights and pushes me against the wall. His mouth is on mine immediately, greedy and insistent, and I know right away that I’ve lost all control of the situation. I may have been the one in control at the restaurant, but now, the tables have turned.

  “You were driving me mad at dinner,” he says. “Such a naughty girl, telling me you touched yourself, when I couldn’t do anything about the moisture pooling between your legs.”

  I shiver in anticipation.

  “Is this okay?” he whispers, his voice gentle now. “If I talk like this?”

  He’ll give me the control back, if I want it, which makes me want to give it to him even more.

  When I nod, he kisses the side of my neck and undoes the bow at the side of my wrap shirt, sliding it off my shoulders. It falls to the floor, a pool by my feet.

  “But now we’re alone.” His gaze is molten, but his words are calm, measured, commanding. “Get naked.”

  A part of me wants to be contrary, but I do as he asks.

  “Sit on the coffee table.” He points behind me. “Spread your legs.”

  “Do you get off on being bossy?”

  “Maybe just a little.”

  I figured he wouldn’t be much of a talker in the bedroom, but I was wrong. So wrong.

  I sit on the coffee table and spread my legs, as requested. I feel vulnerable. It’s almost too much, but I force myself to keep still, to keep my knees apart, and I look up at Drew.

  His eyes are smoldering as he stalks toward me. “Very nice.”

  I tell myself to keep breathing.

  “You’re fucking gorgeous, Chloe.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I can’t wait to pull one of your pretty nipples between my teeth and bury my face between your legs.”

  “Drew...”

  “But first.” He puts his hands on his hips. “Show me how you touched yourself when you thought of me.”

  “You’re evil.” I’m desperate for his touch, but he won’t give it to me.

  He smirks. “Maybe a little. You’re not the first person to say that.”

  “I can’t do it, though. I was using toys, and I don’t have them here.”

  “Why did we go to my place instead of yours?”

  “Because I live in a house with three grad students and only have a twin bed.”

  He exhales, and then he unzips his pants. I watch with unbearable anticipation as he pulls out his cock and strokes himself once, from the base to the tip.

  I want him so badly.

  “This is what I did when I thought of you,” he says.

  “Except I assume you weren’t wearing pants in the shower.”

  “Details, details. Tell me about these toys. Did you use a vibrator?”

  “Of course.”

  He strokes himself again. “You want to be filled with my cock right now, don’t you?”

  I reach for him, but he slaps my hand away.

  “Not yet,” he says.

  He’s so close to me, and it’s torture to see him fisting his cock when I’m not allowed to touch. He’s hard, and his skin looks satiny. I’m mesmerized.

  Drew’s gaze drops from my eyes to between my legs. “You’re wet. May I touch you?”

  I nod eagerly, and he chuckles. It reverberates through my body.

  He kneels between my legs. When his fingers brush over my slit, I gasp. It’s been so long since someone has touched me intimately.

  “Very wet,” he murmurs as he pulls his hand away.

  “You can keep going.”

  “I could. Or...” He takes my hand in his and puts it between my legs. “I want to see you touch yourself.”

  It feels particularly revealin
g to do this in his presence. My cheeks heat as I part my folds and slip two fingers inside.

  “Yes, baby,” he says. “So fucking pretty.”

  I hold his gaze as I slide my fingers in and out. Oh, fuck. This is almost too intense.

  I’m fully bare before him, my fingers in my pussy. So sensitive to every touch, every look he gives me.

  Vulnerable, yes.

  I wouldn’t do this with a one-night stand.

  “Very nice.” He keeps murmuring his appreciation, making it easy to continue. Except...

  “You know,” I say, “you could do some of the work rather than just kneeling there.”

  “You have a bit of a mouth on you.”

  “Why don’t you put my mouth to better use?”

  The room is quiet for a moment, aside from the sound of my fingers sliding in and out of my wetness, and then he bursts into laughter.

  Somehow, that laughter makes the moment even more intimate.

  “Very well,” he says at last, and then he kisses me on the lips.

  I melt against him as he plunders my mouth, and oh God, he tastes good. It’s like a feast to have his open mouth against mine, his tongue darting between my lips. One of his hands gently cups my head, and the other slips between my legs and pushes my hand out of the way so he can take over. He slides one long finger inside me, and another massages my clit.

  “Drew,” I gasp.

  He resumes kissing me and pushes another finger inside me. I squirm against him.

  “Good?” he murmurs, smiling against my lips.

  “Why do you ask such silly questions?”

  “It’s not a silly question. Your pleasure is very important to me.”

  “But the answer to the question is obvious.”

  “Mm. That it is.”

  I grab his cock, and he jerks up. “I think you should lose some of those clothes. I’m naked and you’re not. It’s hardly fair.”

  “As you wish.” He stands up and unbuttons his shirt. He tosses it aside, then pushes down his jeans and boxers and steps out of them.

  He’s glorious.

  And judging by the smug look on his face, he knows it.

  Perhaps because I’m practically drooling.

  Drew kneels between my legs once more and drops his mouth to the junction between them. He gives my slit one long lick. I grip the sides of the coffee table. Then he slips his fingers inside me again and circles his tongue around my clit.

  “You know what else you’d be good at?” I say, smirking. “Licking an ice cream cone.”

  “Not funny. And if you’re still able to make smart-ass comments like that, then clearly I’m not doing my job.”

  He buries his face between my legs and strokes me more insistently.

  Oh, fuck. I’m definitely not capable of speech now. I spiral higher and higher, toward that wonderful peak. Every muscle in my body tightens, then releases, and I cry out in ecstasy.

  My vibrator never gives me an orgasm quite like that.

  He licks me slowly through my climax, then gathers my boneless body in his arms and carries me to the bedroom. He deposits me carefully on the bed and climbs on top of me. So much of my skin is against his, and it feels wonderful. I run my hands all over his back, then around to his abs.

  “Are you ready to take me?” he asks.

  “God, yes.”

  He rolls on a condom and runs his cock over my slit as he smooths my hair and looks into my eyes. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

  My heart beats loudly in my chest. I want him. I want him so much.

  The tip of his cock presses inside me, and I gasp. Slowly, he slides all the way in.

  “How’s that?” he whispers.

  I nod, unable to speak. He’s inside me, on top of me, all around me; I am acutely aware of how close we are.

  Drew props himself up on one elbow, and his other hand comes up to my cheek. He begins to move inside me, his gaze intense on my face.

  I feel like he can see every inch of me.

  And I don’t want to hide.

  “You feel amazing,” I whisper.

  “So do you,” he says, wonder in his voice.

  I pull his head down to mine and kiss him greedily. His mouth and tongue pleasure me as he pushes inside me, then retreats, keeping up a steady rhythm that drives me mad. I arch my hips against him and wrap my legs around his waist.

  We move in unison, two people who almost always spend our nights alone. But tonight, we’re together, and when our bodies separate, we won’t go back to the way we were before.

  His thrusts become deeper, and I welcome it. He slides his hand between our bodies and rubs my clit. I explode around him, and he follows me, growling my name as he comes.

  * * *

  When Drew returns from the washroom, I wrap my arms around him and revel in the feeling of having him naked in bed. He runs his hands through my hair and presses himself against me, and God, it’s perfect.

  “I figured you wouldn’t like cuddling,” I say.

  “Why not?”

  “It doesn’t fit with your grumpy exterior. Besides, you don’t like ice cream, and everybody loves ice cream.”

  He laughs softly. “I like cuddling. I’m just out of practice.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Which is wrong. You should have all the cuddles you could ever want.”

  “I want an awful lot of cuddles. It might be too much for anyone to handle.”

  “Challenge accepted.” He brushes his mouth over mine and kisses me softly.

  Everything is right in the world as I drift off to sleep.

  Chapter 14

  Drew

  It’s white with purple hair and a terrifying pointy horn, and it’s chasing me through a land of giant desserts. Slices of chocolate cake that are twice as tall as me. A river of strawberry sauce.

  And ice cream, of course.

  Lots and lots of ice cream. There’s even a giant banana split with sprinkles.

  But the unicorn keeps on chasing me, and oh my God, it’s got friends. They’re pink and purple, and they’ve got heart tattoos on their asses.

  I run through puddles of chocolate sauce, trying to go faster and faster, but they’re going to catch me, it’s inevitable...

  I open my eyes.

  I’m not longer in some fucked-up mash-up of My Little Pony and Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs. No, I’m in my own bed, and there’s a woman beside me, peering at me curiously. She puts a hand on my head.

  “Are you okay?” Chloe asks. “You were thrashing about. Did you have a nightmare?”

  “Um, no. Just a slightly disturbing dream. Nothing serious.”

  “Having nightmares is nothing to be ashamed of.”

  She sounds so kind and concerned. Like she’s afraid I’ve experienced real-life trauma and that’s why I’m having these dreams. But I just went to a paint-your-own-unicorn party, and the dream wasn’t really that bad.

  I start kissing my way down her neck. We’re both still naked, and I hope we’ve got time to have more fun before she heads to work. I glance at the alarm clock on my bedside table and gasp.

  Havarti Sparkles is right beside my alarm clock, her evil eyes staring at me. Michelle must have decided the unicorn belonged on my bedside table.

  “What’s wrong?” Chloe asks.

  “Um.”

  “Talk to me.”

  “I don’t know...”

  “Drew, please. What happened?”

  “Fine,” I say in exasperation. “I had a nightmare about Havarti Sparkles chasing me through a field of giant scoops of ice cream.”

  She puts her hand to her mouth, as though trying not to laugh.

  “There were so many unicorns, all chasing me. They were evil; I could see their evil little eyes and twinkling horns. They wanted to shoot ice cream sandwiches out of the hearts on their asses.”

  “Why on earth do you think they wanted to do that?”

  “Because that’s what t
hey did in my last dream.”

  She looks at me incredulously.

  Okay, I think I just destroyed my chances of getting laid this morning. I am so out of practice with women.

  “Want some breakfast?” I ask, climbing out of bed. I’m a little self-conscious of my nudity now. “We can have cereal, or I can make you some eggs. How do you like your eggs?”

  Chloe sits up and the blanket tumbles down her chest, exposing her breasts. They are indeed lovely breasts, and I didn’t give them enough attention last night.

  I want them in my mouth, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.

  I swallow. “Eggs?”

  “Drew, are you okay? You’re not shaken up?”

  “I’m fine. Just embarrassed.”

  “Am I allowed to laugh? Because I’ve never heard of an adult having nightmares about unicorns and ice cream and I can barely...” And there come the giggles.

  I just stand there, hands on my hips. Perhaps I would present an imposing figure if I weren’t naked and if I hadn’t just described my ridiculous nightmare.

  “Has it just happened the two times?” she asks.

  “Thankfully, yes.”

  “Come here.”

  I return to the bed, and she puts her arms around me. Her laughter is contagious, and I start to laugh, too. I look at Havarti Sparkles, sitting imposingly (ha!) on my bedside table, and then at Chloe’s lovely face, and I laugh and laugh.

  I haven’t laughed like this in ages.

  Once we’ve both calmed down, Chloe says, “I know something that will make you forget all about your dream.”

  “Do you?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  She scrapes her fingernails down my chest and presses her mouth to mine.

  * * *

  As I mop the kitchen floor, I find myself humming the piña colada song. Nothing can get me down right now, not even the mention of ice cream sandwiches.

  Chloe left at ten, and I feel like I’m on top of the world. I had a hot woman in my bed last night and this morning, and we made plans to see each other again tonight. Yes, there was the unfortunate bad-dream incident, but it all turned out okay.

  The phone rings. It’s my mother.

  “Drew, can you buzz us in?”