My Calling

by Lyssa Layne

“Don’t stop,” she whispers, her voice raspy with desire.

  Listening to the woman, I lower my head. My lips find her neck, kissing softly as I’m attacked by her sweet scent. Aroused, my hands tighten around her breast and thigh. I keep moving my lips, peppering her collarbone with short kisses. My thumb rolls over her erect nipple poking through the red lace. Saylor’s breathing gets more rapid and I move my mouth to where my hand was. I take a second, teasing her with my breath on her skin then I close my mouth around the peak, sucking it into my mouth and tasting it as best I can through the lace. A moan slips out of Saylor’s mouth and I give a playful bite before moving to her other breast and doing the same.

  “Oh, Beck,” she mumbles, her hand in my hair, pulling it each time I nip her skin as I move back and forth between each breast. Meanwhile, my hand down south, moves higher on her thigh, my thumb rubbing up and down her lips, the red material the only barrier between me and Saylor’s wetness.

  The faster she breaths and the louder she moans, I can feel my own body temperature rise. My hand moves from her leg, grabbing the bottom of my shirt and lifting it to my neck. I pause long enough to pull it over my head and toss it on the floor, helping me cool off just a bit. Of course, my cock wants me to release it from the denim prison it’s in but I’m not ready for that yet. I continue my over the clothes attack on Saylor, trying to prolong the inevitable.

  Within a few minutes, the material between her legs is soaking wet as is my thumb. At the same time, I slip my fingers inside the lacy material of her bra and panties, finally touching her bare skin. My thumb glides over her slippery lips, finding her bundle of nerves without any effort at all. Saylor arches her back in surprise, gasping as she does. Quickly, I pull her bra straps down, letting her tits fall out as they’ve been wanting to do this whole time. My tongue rolls over her dime-sized nipple while my thumb and forefinger entwine her other nipple for maximum pleasure on her end, well, and mine, too. I have never felt a pair of tits this perfect before and I don’t want to take my hands away either. Not wanting me to forget about her other hot spot, Saylor begins to grind her hips on my hand, forcing my thumb to rub a little harder.

  Lifting my head, I chuckle and glance up at her with her eyes still closed. “Want something, Say?”

  She nods, pushing her hips harder against my hand. “I’ve never been this wet before…”

  Forget how wet she is, her breathless, gravelly voice is so fuckin’ hot. I’d better stop talking to her or I’ll cum in my boxers before I can even get my dick out. Kissing her collarbone, I whisper, “Just wait…”

  Maneuvering my body, I lift Saylor higher on the bed so I can move between her legs. My hands run down her thighs, pushing them to the side and against the mattress. I hook her panties with my left index finger, pulling them to the side. Her lips glisten from her juices and I slowly move my thumb over her hot spot. Waiting until she’s ready, I slip a finger inside her, moaning myself as it glides in and out and making me even more eager to get my dick in this same spot.

  Saylor makes some kind of sound of pleasure that makes it seem like she’s humming as her hand searches for mine. I slip my free hand under her leg, interlocking our fingers and connecting us emotionally on another level. This isn’t the first time for either of us that I’m sure of, so Saylor isn’t seeking my comfort or afraid of the unknown. She’s letting me know her intent. It isn’t to screw for fun. It isn’t some kind of game. She squeezes my hand in hers and I groan because I’m so fuckin’ screwed, it’s not even funny. After tonight, I will never sleep with another woman besides Saylor Warner.

  CHAPTER 17

  Beck

  The L-word is floating around in my head like a fuckin’ bullet. Why did I not see this before? How was it not obvious that after all these years of watching over her, ensuring the same people that killed her uncle didn’t come after her, that I wouldn’t fall for her? I know Saylor better than anyone else. Hell, I fuckin’ know her better than herself which gives me the upper hand right now because she doesn’t notice that she’s falling in love with me, too.

  Her cheeks still flush from her orgasm, she fiddles with the button on my jeans, anxiously trying to undo them. Like a statue, I watch her hands work unsuccessfully, still not sure what I should do. My cock, my brain, my heart are all telling me to cross this line with Saylor, to let her fall in love with me. That for once, we could both be happy and when the truth eventually came out, we can remember Eddie together and move forward with our lives. Fuck, who am I kidding? When the truth comes out, Saylor will be pissed and I’ll probably lose her forever, which isn’t an option since I promised Eddie I’d take care of her.

  The sound of my zipper snaps me back to reality but not as quickly as Saylor’s hand sliding inside my boxers. Quickly, I move my hands to her shoulders, pushing her away as I jump back.

  “Whoa! What are you doing?” I ask, sweat rolling into my eyes.

  Saylor moves to her knees, her hands reaching back for their spot. She brushes her lips across mine and looks into my eyes. “Relax, Beck, it’s just sex.”

  My hand moves to her cheek, sliding through her hair and pulling gently. “Is it, Saylor?”

  The confidence in her eyes disappears as she swallows and tries to force herself to nod. Leaning forward, not touching her at all, Saylor falls back on the bed. I place one hand on the mattress beside her head. Her hands timidly touch my chest as we stare into each other’s eyes.

  Stop overthinking this, Beck. If Saylor wants it to be ‘just sex’ then make it that.

  With my free hand, I reach in my jeans, pulling out the set of condoms I brought with me. I intended to come to her apartment to use these and so I will. I take the three-pack in my teeth, pushing my jeans and boxers to the floor before gripping the bottom two rubbers. The perforation tears the single condom apart from the other two that I discard on the ground with my clothes. Saylor takes the package from my lips and slowly opens it.

  “Is this what you want, Saylor?” I ask, praying she won’t say no, but knowing I’d be slightly relieved if she did.

  To answer my question, Saylor takes the raincoat and covers my aching manhood. I squeeze my eyes shut, groaning as she touches me for the first time. The second she’s done, I grab her hand and pull it over her head before she can excite me any more manually. Taking her other hand, I guide it to the same position overhead, holding her hands down with my left hand. I inspect Saylor’s face to make sure she’s still okay and that giddy look is back where it was earlier. Kissing her softly, I pause before slowly entering her. She wraps one leg around my waist, twisting her hips and maneuvering the other over my shoulder, trapping my cock in a foolproof angle to pleasure both her and me.

  Fuck, she’s so tight and wet and fuckin’ perfect. Sex has never been like this before, it’s never even been this close. Locked in her gaze, Saylor lifts her hips, ever so slightly, twisting my cock to the brink of destruction. My thumb finds her hot spot, pressing and twisting it between my fingers. Saylor’s eyes go wide in shock and joy and I try to focus on seeing her orgasm again. It’s no use though, my stomach muscles clench, giving me notice that I’m about to explode. I give a primal grunt, pinching Saylor’s sweet spot as hard as I can. All it takes is for her to call out my name for me to release all the sexual frustration this woman has caused me over the last few weeks.

  A few more pumps and both of us are gasping, recovering from the height of our climaxes. My body goes limp and I collapse on top of Saylor, who is equally as exhausted as I am. Somehow, Saylor finds the energy to run her fingers through my hair as my head rests on her chest that is rising and falling as she slowly catches her breath.

  “Beck… that was… amazing,” she says and presses her lips against my forehead.

  I close my eyes because right now, being in held in Saylor’s arms is far better than what we just experienced.

  Saylor

  I can’t move a single muscle in my body. Every part of me hurts, from the tips of my toes
to the split ends of my hair, and I absolutely love it. Beck far surpassed any expectations I had of how sex with him would be. I can use all the cliche words, earth shattering, amazing, blah blah blah, but they wouldn’t come close to describing how it really was. When Beck was inside me, whether it be his peter or his finger, I was completely consumed and no, not just by his appendages, but by him in general.

  His eyes never left mine. He tended to my every desire. He knew what I wanted before I even did. Now that I’m lying here in a half-awake slumber, it’s kind of freaky how well he knew what I wanted, but at the same time, it was part of the whole him consuming me and me consuming him thing. Beck made love to me with every ounce of his being and gah, it’s going to make me melt again just replaying it in my mind. Two orgasms, but only one penetration, was all that I could handle last night. Even though Beck is awake, I’m pretending to still be asleep so I can muster up some energy for another round this morning.

  I crack an eyelid so I can see what Beck is doing now. He’s put his boxers back on, completely ruining the option of secretly being able to admire him in the buff. Sitting on the edge of the papasan chair that is directly across from my bed, Beck’s hands are folded together almost like he’s praying. His elbows rest on his knees and he’s slightly rocking back and forth which makes my stomach churn. I hope he’s not regretting last night, I know I’m not, and I know it can’t be the last time. Whether Beck and I turn into anything serious or not, he’s ruined me for every man that comes after him.

  Using every ounce of energy I have, I open my other eyelid and casually say, “Stop watching me sleep, it’s creepy.”

  Beck’s head pops up so fast he probably gives himself whiplash. The color drains from his cheeks and a shiver runs down my spine, which can’t be a good thing. Beck shakes his head, sitting up a little straighter.

  “I wasn’t watching you.”

  The sheet is scantily draped over me, covering all my good parts as I prop myself up on my elbow. “Did you even sleep last night? Are you a vampire or something?”

  Beck laughs at my comment. “Actually, I slept great last night, first time in—” He pauses and stands up. “First time in a long time I’ve slept that well.”

  I raise an eyebrow at his hesitation. He does look more relaxed than normal but then again, look at me, I’m a pile of mush after the sexual relief we shared. I glance at the clock, noting that we have a few hours before our shift starts. Throwing back the sheet, I manage to lift myself out of bed, still completely naked, and walk to the kitchen.

  Hoping Beck will follow, I call over my shoulder, “Want some coffee?”

  A few seconds later, he appears in the kitchen doorway as I’m dropping a second scoop of coffee grounds in the filter of the old coffee maker that used to be my uncle’s. I hit the brew button and spin around to face Beck, trying to feel as confident as I pictured this moment a few minutes ago when I was daydreaming in the safety of my bed. Beck’s leaning against the doorframe, his big muscles crossed over his chest. Just the sight of him almost zaps all the energy out of my body. Trying to recover before I fall to the ground thanks to my Jello legs, I grip the counter behind me.

  My mind races, trying to think of something witty and clever to say but I’m drawing a blank. In true Beck fashion, he doesn’t ease the awkward silence. No, he locks eyes with me, engaging me in an epic showdown of who will address the elephant in the room. My cheeks heat up as each second passes and as much as I hate coffee, I am elated when the machine kicks off letting me know it’s ready. Losing the game, I turn around so I can pour Beck a cup of coffee. I’m so focused on the task at hand that I don’t hear him move across the room and almost douse him in java when I turn back around.

  “Sorry,” I mumble. “Here’s your coffee.” I thrust it toward him and he takes it from me reluctantly.

  Beck stares down at the mug then looks back at me. “Look, Saylor, about last night…”

  My heart thunders against my chest and tears threaten at my eyes but I dig deep and push those thoughts away. The thoughts that last night was the only time I’ll ever be with Beck. That things are now going to be all awkward and weird as we ride around in our ambulance, saving lives. That my broken heart will be an open wound that I’ll have to deal with every day. No, I don’t let those thoughts make me weary.

  Instead, I stick out my bottom lip. “This doesn’t work for you.” I wave my hand up and down his body. “I much prefer the cocky, over confident yet quiet persona instead of this.”

  Beck’s jaw flinches and he looks back at the coffee then to me. “Yeah? You prefer asshole Beck?”

  I shrug. “You say potato, I say sexy.”

  Like he always does, Beck contemplates his next words so that they’re perfect when he delivers them. I find myself smirking as I wait for his response. Beck looks up from the coffee and cocks his eyebrow, melting me even more.

  “You want broody Beck? Well, your coffee is horrible.” He dumps the cup in the sink behind me as my jaw drops in surprise. “And I hate this fuckin’ mug.”

  He holds up the ceramic cup that says, ‘Watch out world, I’ve got my sassy pants on today.’ I handpicked that mug for him the first time he drank out of it and it’s no coincidence that he got it again this morning. Beck shakes his head and slides it across the counter. His fingers run under my chin, lifting my face to look at him.

  “And last night scared the fuckin’ shit out of me, Saylor, because it made me realize that I don’t want to be with any other woman except you.”

  My heart races into overdrive and it takes a few seconds for me to remind myself to breathe. That wasn’t at all what I was expecting to hear although I share the same sentiment. My hands grip the faux wood of the countertop, unable to form any words to respond. Luckily, Beck speaks again, letting me off the hook.

  “So, I’m going to kiss you again and have my way with you unless you tell me no.”

  His eyebrow is raised, waiting for my permission. Quickly, I nod, unable to do much else. Beck wastes no time crushing his lips to mine and lifting my hips to set me on the counter. His hand parts my legs, his magic fingers working their way against my girly parts like they did last night. I close my eyes, letting the orgasmic feeling rush over me as Beck does his thing. His mouth moves off mine, kissing over my cheek and his breath is warm on my ear.

  “One more thing. You’re going to be walking a very thin line if you go around this place naked all the time. Don’t say you haven’t been warned.”

  I giggle at his ‘threat’, but the laughter is quickly replaced by my cry of desire as Beck sends me over the edge. Barely done with my release, Beck scoops me in his arms, carrying me back to the bedroom. I did it! I broke down this mysterious man’s walls… and I fell for him, way harder than I wanted to.

  CHAPTER 18

  Saylor

  It’s been two weeks of blissful Beck land. Somehow, I’ve managed to continue life outside of my bedroom with Beck, who has basically taken up residence there. I still haven’t ever seen him sleep although he swears he’s more rested than ever. I don’t see how since he wears me out every way sexually possibly from the second we climb in his rusty old truck to the moment we’re rushing out the door, trying not to be late for our shift. All sleeping aside, for once in my life, I’m happy, truly happy and content… with this total stranger.

  Okay, technically Beck isn’t a stranger but he seriously might as well be one. Sure, I know everything about him work-wise and his sexual and java preferences, but I have yet to figure out his full name, anything about his family, or anything regarding his background. Me, I’m so transparent, that I’ve blabbed all about my awful upbringing, how my uncle saved me, and my life after that. Aside from the casual mention of Uncle Eddie being shot, I haven’t brought it up again though so I at least have a little mystery on my side.

  “Uh oh. Watch out, world, Saylor Warner is thinking,” Beck teases me from the driver’s side of the rig.

  Instinctively, I rea
ch out and smack his arm. Beck rubs his arm and looks over at me. “Seriously, Say, you’re going to leave a permanent mark if you keep doing that.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. It’s true, now that he’s loosened up and teases me more, the majority of our shifts are spent like we’ve been besties since kindergarten. It’s moments like these when I’m giggling without a care in the world that I really regret having forced myself to be alone all those years after Eddie died. For awhile, I coped by moving from one guy to another until I got in way too deep. Luckily, I was able to escape that awful situation and get back home where things started to fall into place for me. Still, after that I never let myself get close to anyone, never calling a guy past date #3, the lucky bedroom date. As for girlfriends, well, I never had any before Eddie died, so why would I have any after?

  Lately, I’ve been reminded of someone that probably would’ve never left my side, one of Uncle Eddie’s apprentices, or something like that. His name was Jonathan Beckerdyte, although I called him Jon, and he was years younger than my uncle. I was a pubescent teenager when I first met Jonathan, who was a lanky twenty-year-old that sported the gangsta look. He always wore baggy jeans that fell off his body. Uncle Eddie hated that and would insist that he put on a belt anytime he stepped in the shop. I was pleased to get the attention of a twenty-year-old so I constantly teased Jonathan about the giant gold chain that he wore. He’d always dish it back to me, making fun of my weenie rolled bangs or my wide flare jeans. Other than teasing each other, Jonathan and I didn’t interact too much, but it was apparent from the way my uncle talked about him that Eddie thought very highly of Jonathan.

  I was only a teenager but I saw Jonathan’s transformation during the short time I knew him. When Eddie died, I had no family but it was Jon that took care of everything, including me. Somehow, a funeral occurred, the shop got cleaned up, and although everything was a blur at the time, the one thing I remember from the funeral was staring at Jonathan’s hand as he held mine. After the dust settled and I quickly realized I was about to become part of the foster system, I panicked and ran away. I never found out what happened to Jonathan Beckerdyte although I swear those first few years after Eddie died I would randomly see him from time to time. I think he was just checking up on me, but we never talked, we didn’t even pretend to know each other. The last time I think I saw him was at my graduation ceremony for my GED and then it’s like he knew I was okay and he vanished out of my life as quickly as he came into it.