Can't Go Home (Oasis Waterfall)

by Angelisa Denise Stone

  Growling and locking eyes with Kathryn, I say, “Not gonna happen, mark my words. Not gonna happen, Pebbles.”

  “Better not,” she says, sipping her wine.

  After a frustratingly painful, but delicious dinner, Kathryn and I make our way to the elevator. Just as we’re about to enter, Rory runs in and leans on the door. “Dre, I almost forgot. Ya got another letter from Piper,” he says, handing me an envelope.

  “Uhhh … thanks,” I mutter, shooting daggers at him. What a fucking dick! He knows not to mention her in front of Kathryn. Fucking asshole.

  Realizing his mistake, he says, “Uhhh yeah, sure, anytime.”

  As the elevator door closes, I make my move, hoping to distract Kathryn from the obvious question coming my way. I turn her around, wrapping my arm around her waist, pulling her back against my body. As my hand rubs the front of her thigh, my other hand holds her against me while I kiss the back of her neck and down her bare back.

  Kathryn’s breath catches as she lets out a small moan. “Who’s ‘Piper,’ Dre?” she asks, offering more of her neck to me. I love that she questions me while still urging me to continue. Nobody is getting between us tonight.

  “Nobody … just someone from my past,” I reply, not at all truthfully. Piper is most definitely somebody—somebody significant.

  Apparently, the answer appeases her; Kathryn turns around and kisses me deeply. I spin her, backing her up against the wall, hiking her leg up around my waist. “Oh God,” she moans, feeling my erection through the thin material of her dress.

  The elevator dings, indicating our arrival, I groan, separating from her. “You can just call me, ‘Dre,’ tonight,” I joke. I grab her hand and lead her out of the elevator. I fumble with the keycard, dropping it. My attempts at cool, collected, and suave are failing miserably.

  “If you’re so ‘Godlike,’ then just open the door, for Dre’s sake,” Kathryn kids, easing my nerves. Dre’s sake? That’s pretty funny. I’ve got to give her that one. I’m not sure why I’m so fucking nervous. What the fuck? It’s not like I haven’t done this before—a couple hundred times. There’s just something about being with her that has my head all in jumbles, and my hands in fumbles. And I’m turning into Dr. Fucking Seuss.

  Finally, we walk into our room, and Rory’s got it all sexed out. There are probably five-dozen roses all around the room, a bottle of champagne chilling in a bedside bucket, and chocolate covered strawberries and a box of condoms on a silver platter on the nightstand.

  “Fucking Rory! Kathryn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “Sorry for what? Looks like it’s all covered here,” she says, walking over to me. “Listen Dre, I don’t know what happened last night, but I’ve … I’ve … been on fire since you left,” she admits. She begins unbuttoning my shirt, and says, “If you’re ready to finish what we started last night, then I’m game.”

  She stops midway down my shirt, leaving the rest of the buttons fastened, and holds both of my hands. “But if you want to drink champagne, eat strawberries, and just hang out, then I’m game for that, too.”

  I’m speechless. Kathryn thinks I don’t want her. She thinks that I’m not into this. Holy fuck, those thoughts have got to end now, right fucking now. I grab her forcefully around the waist, yanking her against my body. Her eyes widen, and her breath catches.

  “Listen to me, last night was … was … a fluke. Nobody’s leaving this room tonight. This room, that bed, my body … everything in here tonight will be for your pleasure … tonight you’re going to learn the real meaning of pleasure,” I state, taking back my authority, knowing exactly what I’m about to do to her.

  I lean in to kiss her, purposefully missing her lips and connecting with her neck. I suck the skin of her neck into my mouth, using just enough pressure for her to feel it, to ignite her inside, but not enough to leave a mark on her gorgeous, flawless skin. I continue to kiss her neck, working my way around to the back of her. When I’m completely behind her, I kiss and bite her shoulders, easing the red straps down off of her shoulders and arms, finding her second tattoo, a small four-leaf clover on her right shoulder blade. Talk about getting lucky.

  The dress slides down her body, pooling around her feet. There is nothing sexier than a braless, confident woman. I continue kissing her bare back, wrapping my arm around the front of her to cup her breast in my hand. Her nipple is hard against my palm. I watch as tiny goose bumps cover her arms; I trail a finger along her arms, knowing the effect it’s having on her.

  I back away, “Turn around, Kathryn … slowly. I want to see you.” Kathryn spins agonizingly slow, wearing nothing but a black lace thong and black heels. “Stunning.”

  Without any prompt from me, Kathryn steps over the dress, and shimmies her underwear down, standing naked and self-assured in front me. She walks over to me and finishes unfastening the buttons on my shirt. With my shirt open, she slides the material off of me. I step back and take my t-shirt off immediately, dying to feel her bare breasts against my skin.

  As I reach for her, she holds her hand out, stopping me from coming any closer. “Not just my pleasure tonight, Dre,” she says, running her hand down my chest to the waistband of my pants. “Our pleasure.”

  I nod, knowing that there’s no going back. Kathryn Howell has possessed me. She’s so much a part of me that I don’t know how I’ve even survived this long without her. I spent the last month worrying that I was going to break her, destroy her. But, I now know how wrong I was. Only one woman in my entire life has ever had the power to crush me, and she’s standing right in front me.

  “Kathryn, there’s something that I need to tell—”

  “Not now Dre,” she says, covering my lips. “Confessions later. Pleasure now.”

  Kathryn runs her nails up my chest, sending the heat to my groin. She bites on my lower lip, guiding me back toward the bed. Just as I’m about to lay her back on the bed, she shifts, pushing me down on the bed. I sit with Kathryn standing between my legs; we’re nearly eye-to-eye, chest-to-chest. I wrap my arm around her while my other hand finds her breast. I roll her nipple between my fingers, tugging on it while it hardens in my hand.

  I’m staring at her as she’s watching me touch her. Kathryn hasn’t taken her eyes from my hands. She licks her lips and chews lightly on her bottom lip. She likes watching me. “Do you like that?” I ask, wanting to hear her voice.

  “Don’t stop, Dre. It feels so good,” her voice is raspy, full of excitement.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” I respond, pushing her breasts together, tonguing and tasting her nipples alternately. Kathryn wraps her hands in my hair, pressing me against her.

  Abruptly, she pushes me, forcing me to lie back. As she crawls up the length of my body, she pauses at the button of my pants before undoing them. I help her get them off, taking my underwear right along with them. Kathryn stares at my face and looks down at my naked body, grinning wickedly. I can’t imagine anyone being more beautiful, more confident, and more tempting than she is right now.

  Kathryn kisses my chest, circling my nipple with her tongue, working her way down my body. She pauses at my bellybutton, teasing me with her tongue and fingernails. I’m fighting the urge to flip her over, when she continues to go further south. When she skips my erection, kissing and licking my thighs, I punch the bed, groaning in frustration and want. Kathryn massages my legs, pushing them further apart. My body is on fire; I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to stand this incredible torture. Kathryn sits up on her knees and grins as she reaches for the champagne.

  “Rory’s gonna regret giving us this,” she says, smiling mischievously. Kathryn shakes the bottle and pops the top, showering the bed and me in champagne and bubbles. “Awww … what a mess!” she says, displaying the most pouty-mouth I’ve ever seen.

  “I guess I should start cleaning it up,” she says, leaning over my body. Pausing, she sits back up and says, “But before I do …” Kathryn doesn’t finish her stat
ement. She reaches up and pulls a pin from her hair as it all cascades down around her.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, gripping the sheet. Kathryn looks magnificent astride me with her hair falling all around her, wearing nothing but black high-heels and a sexy smile. I want to impale her, be deep inside her, and wrap my hands in that hair, pulling it back hard as she screams my name.

  As Kathryn licks the champagne from every inch of my body, I keep trying to reach for her, to touch her, to kiss her, but she just bats my hand away when I do. Finally, Kathryn’s lips engulf me, taking me in to the back of her throat.

  “Yeah, that’s it,” I say, hating the way it sounds. I want so much to be able to tell her how incredible her mouth feels on me. I want to explain it in every detail. Kathryn needs to know that what she’s doing is beyond any gift, any winning ballgame, and beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s not just the act of what she’s doing; it’s that it’s Kathryn who’s doing it. I’m captivated by her beauty, entranced by her intelligence, and mesmerized by her confidence. And goddamn do I need to fuck the Hell out of her.

  When I know that I can’t hold out any longer, I tangle my hands in her long hair, easing her head back. “Hold on, Pebbles,” I say, running my fingers through her hair. Looking back up at me with a gleam in her eye, she trails her tongue up my body, licking my chest and neck.

  Kathryn whispers in my ear, “You taste so good, Dre.”

  Fuck. I can’t take much more; I’m about to explode. I roll her over, pinning her beneath me. “I haven’t had my dessert,” I say, kissing her neck and working my way down her body. The curves of her body are tantalizing; I want to touch, taste, and tickle every peak and valley of her entire body. Kathryn’s eyes are glued to me, watching my every move. “You like watching, don’t you Kathryn?” I ask, praying that I’m not pushing her too far.

  “God yes, Dre. It’s … you’re … you’re so sexy. It’s so hot,” she says, through shallow breaths.

  “Then keep watching, Darling. It’s all about your pleasure now,” I say, wanting to satisfy her more than she’s ever been before. Kathryn nods, touching her breasts as she does so.

  “Mmmm,” I groan, dipping my tongue into her bellybutton. Kathryn’s legs open further, inviting me in. I’m craving her taste, her scent, and her surrender. I want to bring her to the brink and watch in awe as she soars over the edge.

  As my tongue finds her innermost sexuality, I glance up, staring into her eyes. Her chest is heaving, her breathing erratic. She’s still touching and tugging on her nipples, not taking her eyes off of me. As I continue to taste and lick her, her eyelids begin to flutter, while her hips begin to circle.

  Kathryn’s getting close to release; so I continue to bathe her in my tongue, using my fingers to enter her and leave her. I go faster, applying more pressure, slowing down and easing off, continuing a steady rhythm of denial and acquiescence. Suddenly, Kathryn’s legs tighten; her eyes close. She’s got a handful of my hair and a handful of the pillow as her toes curl along my back.

  “Oooh Dre, yes, Dre!” she calls, panting heavily. Kathryn’s body trembles as she catches her breath and sighs.

  Looking down at me, she casts a mysterious smile on me, and says, “Wow, That was Won-DRE-ful.”

  Fuck yeah! Take that “Thee-adorable!” I’m ‘Won-DRE-ful,” and don’t you ever forget it, I think to myself.

  Joining her on the pillow, I say, “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Kiss me,” she says. “I need to taste you, taste us.”

  Us? Holy shit, she’s so fucking hot. I devour her mouth, kissing her hungrily. We moan against each other’s tongues. “I want you … God, Kathryn, I want you so bad,” I say, her tongue circling mine, drawing it further into my mouth.

  “Now, Dre,” she says. “Please, now.” I reach over, grab a condom, and try to rip it open. It flies out of my hand. “Fuck.”

  “Easy boy,” she says. “I got this.”

  Taking another condom from the box, she opens it deftly, removing it carefully from the wrapper. “Lie back,” she commands, coming over to me. I do as I’m told. “Hands behind your head.”

  I relax, putting my hands behind my head, smirking at her as I do so. Kathryn strokes me a few times; I groan in the process. Easily and seductively, she slides the condom down over me.

  “Ready?” she questions, glancing down at my erection and back into my eyes. I nod, and she straddles me, easing herself down onto me. I watch in awe as her eyes widen and slowly close. Kathryn’s tongue trails along her upper lip as she begins to rock slowly on me. I unclasp my hands from behind my head and slide them up her smooth thigh.

  “Damn, you’re amazing,” I say, beginning to rock with her. Eyes closed, she smiles, increasing her speed, sliding up and down, up and down. I reach up with one hand and caress her breast, taking her nipple between my fingers.

  “Oh yeah, harder Dre,” she begs. I buck my hips faster and squeeze her nipple. “God … yeah … please,” she moans, rolling her hips around. Kathryn is completely in control. I watch as she gets lost in the moment. Her hips are increasing their motion; her moans are breathy. Another release is approaching. Fuck yeah! Round two, Darling.

  I grip her hips, moving her up and down, faster and harder. Kathryn calls my name when she finally lets go, falling limply onto my chest. I run my fingers along the length of her back, pushing her hair aside to unveil the satisfied smile on her face.

  I kiss the top of her head. Kathryn looks up at me, kissing me lightly. She rolls off to the side, pulling me on top of her. “Your turn,” she says, easing her body under mine. Kissing her breast and rolling it around my tongue, I slide back into her. Kathryn wraps her legs around my waist, urging me further into her. I thrust against her; she meets me, pressing against me. I quicken my pace, deeper, harder, faster. I’m climbing, reaching, almost … almost. I call her name softly as I let go, knowing the importance of this encounter. I know with every fiber of my being that I will never have sex with another woman again. I just have to tell Kathryn the truth first.

  Best sex of my entire life. The very best freaking sex I’ve ever had. And just because I’ve only slept with two people, now three, doesn’t mean that I don’t know what I’m talking about. I slept with Kyle twice. Oh yeah, I only mentioned that one time on Spring Break. There may have been a drunken Fourth of July rendez-vous in the bathroom of a bar. I’ll neither confirm, nor deny. And, I guess there was that other time in the front seat of his car when we volunteered to pick up pizza. But again, I want to keep my breasts, so Sydney can never find out that I slept with her brother—many, many times—the entire summer before I met Theodore at orientation at Georgetown. I still stand by the fact that Kyle’s hot; Sydney wasn’t being a true friend asking me to stay away from him in the first place. I’d never do something like that to her—if I had a brother.

  Anyway, Theodore and I had a healthy and “sexperimental” relationship, but nothing, absolutely nothing, could ever compare to what I experienced last night in this hotel with Dre “God” ley, I mean Donley. I didn’t know it could be like that. I wasn’t just being complimentary when I called him “won-DRE-ful.” It was extraordinary. I tend to be open to anything, but am usually pretty timid when it comes to initiating and asking for what I want. With Dre, I felt myself letting go, ignoring my inhibitions and reveling in the pleasure. I just hope he didn’t think I was too timid, too reserved.

  Apparently sexual attraction and desire play much bigger roles in one’s overall satisfaction than I actually knew. I’d never felt like that before. I was so turned on; I wanted him so badly that I truly felt like I was going explode, that my skin was just going to burst into a million pieces right off my sexually frustrated and overly turned on body. It was the craziest thing I’ve ever felt. There were times when I thought I might reach climax without him even touching those certain particular parts of my body.

  And then this morning, Holy St. Sebastian, he woke up early for two
more rounds of sexcapades and fantasy-fulfillment. Watching him eat strawberries off of my stomach and breasts was thrilling, but having him wash the melted chocolate off my body in the shower was erotic and sensual. This man knows what he’s doing.

  However, I need to keep my focus on track, and not lose sight of the facts. It’s a serious red flag that (1.) Dre will not open up to me about anything. (2.) He avoids all personal questions that I ask him. (3.) I have no idea where he lives, where he’s from, what he actually does for a living, or even his phone number. (4.) Some girl named “Piper” sends him big yellow envelopes.

  I’m not dumb; I recognize these giant, flowing, soaring red flags. But, I’m also smart enough to take this slow and possibly get these answers gradually. If I start harping on the questions, prying into Dre’s life, he’s going to pull back. I definitely don’t want that. I’m not saying that I want to spend the rest of my life with this guy, especially not knowing a thing about him. I’m just saying that my attraction to him, my piqued curiosity, and my overall sense of intrigue are all heightened enough to stay in this until I get the answers I need—even if I may not necessarily want them.

  Here’s the thing: Dre’s into me, or we wouldn’t be in his best friend’s hotel room. I’d be an utter psychopath if I weren’t into him. I know this isn’t an ideal situation, seeing as how I’m being blinded by the red flags flying in my face every time I open my eyes. I don’t look at Dre and think that he’s the future father of my children or the man who’s going to be sitting next to me when we’re 80-years-old, rocking in our rocking chairs on the front porch. I’m not naïve.

  Right now, I’m looking at him as the man who’s going to take me to paramount levels of ecstasy for the time being, entertaining me all winter long if I can help it. Now don’t get me wrong, I could easily fall for Dre Donley, easy-peasy. Like, I’m reminding myself at every interval, every turn that Dre isn’t in this for the long haul. This is just his way of having some fun. I get that.