Missionary Position

by Daisy Prescott

  “Who do you think I learned it from?” He winked and grabbed my hand, pulling me outside to find Kofi.

  I NEVER DID lie down and rest. Instead, Gerhard, Kai, and I sat in the sun hut at Ama’s house and talked for hours. I meant the two of us, not some other random man named Gerhard. Or Kai. It would take time to adjust to the new name. We chatted and held hands. His touch tethered me to the moment. I needed to prove he was real with constant contact.

  “You’re tanner.”

  “I flew to Kenya for a couple of days. I tan easily I guess.” He shrugged.

  “That seems out of the way.”

  “I needed to set-up the project and find someone to potentially take it over for me. You know, since I stalked you to Ghana instead.” His eyes met mine and twinkled.

  “Did you really change everything to come hang out with me?”

  “Crazy, right?” His hand went to his hair and rubbed the crown of his head, causing strands to stand up in every direction. I liked this new unbuttoned, disheveled man.

  I’d like to unbutton and dishevel him.

  I definitely felt better.

  “A little. I mean, we only met and had dinner a few times. Who does that?”

  He watched me carefully, playing with my fingers for a moment. “I do. I’m the kind of crazy man who meets a woman and trails after her to another continent.”

  “Is this something you’ve done before?”

  “I’ve never followed anyone to Africa. This is all new for me.”

  Who was this man? My heart flip-flopped in my chest. His word flattered me, but they also made me want to bolt. Maybe he was right to think I posed a flight risk.

  “In my defense, I’d been asked to speak at the conference prior to meeting you. Months ago.”

  “So you’re here for the week?”

  “The week. A month. Maybe more.”

  A month? More?

  “Yes, a month. At the least. If I can find the support, maybe three.”

  I hadn’t realized I’d spoken out loud. Typically, I kept my mental babbling internal.

  “What are you thinking? Other than I’m a crazy fool.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’d be in Ghana when I was here?”

  “Ah, right. That.” He picked at a string on the inseam of his pants. “I find it difficult to trust people when I first meet them. They hear my name or TNG and have preconceived notions about me.” He stared pointedly at me.

  “Hey now. Your name meant nothing to me. I only recognized TNG from the exhibit. Should I search for you online?” The thought had frequently crossed my mind. Only before today, I’d have been searching for the wrong man.

  “You might have hit me up for additional grant money. Or to fund your own perverse naked project.”

  I arched an eyebrow at him. “Perverse?”

  “You’re missing my point. I didn’t want us to be about business. My life is all about business now.”

  “And escaping from women who stalk you, hoping to get into your bed,” I teased.

  It was his turn to quirk an eyebrow at me.

  “I didn’t stalk you. You stalked me.” I didn’t correct the second part of the statement.

  “Yes, but you made all sorts of assumptions about me.”

  This was true. “No, I didn’t.” I looked out into the sunlit garden.

  “Then why aren’t you looking at me?”

  “I thought I saw a lizard over there.”

  He stared where I pointed. There wasn’t a lizard. Damn beasts. They always appeared out of nowhere, why couldn’t one have shown up on command?

  “Okay, fine. I assumed things about you because you were Mr. Suit and named Gerhard. Most of them were good things, though.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “You were successful and smart, and from an exceptional gene pool that bred strong, tall, beautiful, athletic people who might one day lead a race of super humans,” I babbled.

  “Beautiful? Shouldn’t that be handsome?” His smile revealed a dimple in his right cheek.

  How had I missed his dimple? Had I forgotten the dimple? Dutch dimples. I was doomed.

  “Fine. Handsome.”

  “I think you’re beautiful.”

  There it was. The word every woman wanted to hear.

  “Go on.”

  He wrapped a thin strand of my hair around his fingers and tugged me closer. “I think you’re beautiful, and I’ve been thinking about kissing you for weeks.”

  I gazed into his eyes, which were close enough to be slightly out of focus. His dark lashes framed his deep blue eyes, which had a ring of silver near the pupil. Tiny freckles dappled his nose. He released the strands of hair from his fingers to cup my jaw.

  Instead of kissing my lips, he leaned in and kissed first one cheek, then the other with agonizingly slow movements. Our breaths mingled, but he didn’t kiss my mouth. He moved closer to my ear, his breath tickling my neck, torturing me, building up my desire to crash my mouth to his.

  “Kiss me, then.” My voice trembled.

  “I am kissing you.” He emphasized his words by pressing his lips against my forehead.

  I groaned and shifted to meet his eyes again. Merriment and lust danced behind those dark lashes.

  Fuck this.

  I reached up to his neck, clutched his hair, and pulled his mouth to mine. He laughed before returning my kiss.

  Our inappropriate for public kiss of earlier had nothing on this one. In the privacy of the screened sun hut, I unleashed my pent-up frustration. I moaned like a porn queen, grateful Ama wasn’t home.

  His hands left my face, skimming down over my breasts, then settling on my hips, encouraging me to move closer to him. I obliged by straddling his thighs.

  Bless long, full skirts.

  Settling me on his lap, he took over, controlling the kiss and letting his hands roam my body. I gently pulled at his hair, cupped his face, and dragged my fingers along his scruff before venturing further south to explore his wide shoulders and biceps through the thin linen of his shirt. His body was El Dorado, and I sought his hidden treasure.

  Full body contact in humid afternoon air created stickiness and wetness, which had nothing to do with arousal. I could feel sweat glistening on my neck and chest, pooling between my breasts, but didn’t want to stop kissing. Who needed air?

  Kai’s broke the kiss as he worked his way down my neck, kissing and licking a path to my collarbone. “Mmm, salty,” he said.

  I froze. We were making out like teenagers, and I was sweating like the proverbial whore in church. Sweat plus arousal equaled a sweaty pussy. Swussy. Sexy? Not sexy.

  “Sorry. It’s hot.”

  North Sea blue flashed at me. “Why are you apologizing?”

  “For being sweaty.”

  “It’s Ghana. Everyone’s sweaty. Here, lick me.” He offered up his neck.

  “Seriously?”

  “Come on, you know you want to.”

  “Are we doing body shots? Is this spring break?”

  He laughed, then licked the corner of his mouth. “I love the way you taste.”

  I blinked and my Kegel muscles involuntarily tightened at his words. This man could be my undoing.

  I licked him—of course I licked him—on that magical place right below his ear where the corner of his strong jaw jutted out. I could cut steak with his jaw. Maybe I’d try later. For now, I traced my nose along his scruff, inhaling his good sweaty, man smell. When I reached the spot of soft skin below his ear, I darted my tongue out to taste him. He tasted salty, too. I wanted to lick him all over his body, starting at his ear and working my way down, much further down. He could be my personal salt lick.

  Kai moaned and rolled his neck further to the side to increase my access. He obviously enjoyed it. I took his lobe between my teeth and lightly bit down. His hands tightened at my waist. I exhaled warm air near his ear as he rocked his hips against me.

  Kai was hard. Ger hard. I snickered.
/>   “What?” His eyes slowly opened and met mine.

  No way would I tell him what made me laugh.

  “Nothing. I giggle when I get excited.”

  His side-long look told me he didn’t believe me. With a quickness that startled me, he tickled my sides.

  Growing up with two brothers, I assumed I’d lost the receptors for tickling ages ago. Instead, I was more sensitive than typical people who hadn’t grown up being tortured by teasing siblings.

  “Ack! Stop!” I laughed, trying to catch my breath while I squirmed and wriggled on his lap, attempting to block his hands with my arms tucked tight to my sides. “Enough!”

  His laughter joined mine.

  “Not sexy,” I squealed. Squealing wasn’t sexy either.

  “Tell me.”

  “Never.” I hopped off his lap, out of breath, my sides aching.

  He crossed his arms and glared at me. “Laughing at me isn’t good for my delicate male ego.”

  I let my gaze drop to where what had brushed against my thighs stood evident by the tenting of his pants.

  “Appears to me your ego is in fine shape.” I raised an eyebrow and stared at him.

  He didn’t move to adjust himself or hide it. “I’m a healthy man.”

  “That you are. That you are indeed.” I found myself staring at the top of his thighs. I thought I saw his peen twitch.

  Doomed.

  APPARENTLY, EVEN AS adults it was possible to spend hours making out and not realize it. Kai and I arrived late for dinner that night, much to Ama’s and Ursula’s delight when they saw my flushed face and kiss swollen lips. Internally, I groaned, knowing no matter how old I was, or how old they were, they would still tease me about it when Kai was out of earshot. I owed Maggie an apology for my meddling last summer. Meddling was endlessly fun and better than being the center of attention when it came to potential romance.

  Romance? We had a week. Maybe more. A month.

  A week was enough. A month would be plenty. Kai and I could have a lot of sex in a month.

  I crossed and uncrossed my legs thinking about it. He sat next to me at the table, and his hand wandered underneath the cloth to find my thigh. Warmth at the point of contact infiltrated the thin cotton of my skirt to heat my skin. His occasional squeeze didn’t help the gathering heat elsewhere.

  The day’s temperatures had lowered and a breeze blew off of the ocean, but I still flushed. I sipped from my glass of beer, hoping to quench the flames, knowing they had nothing to do with the temperature or thirst.

  Kai coughed, drawing my attention to him. “Selah? Ursula asked if you would like to join them this week in the Volta?”

  I blinked at him, then met Ursula’s eyes. Her wink told me she had no expectation of me joining them.

  Meddling meddlers.

  “I …” I met Kai’s interested expression. “I think I’ll have to pass.”

  His hand squeezed my thigh before finding my own and intertwining our fingers.

  “Thought so, but wanted to ask to make sure. I wouldn’t want to leave you behind, all alone,” Ursula said.

  Boy, she laid it on thick.

  “She won’t be alone,” Kai stated with his charming smile. “I’ll keep her company.”

  Ama, Nadine, and Ursula sighed in unison.

  Damn lethal Dutch charms.

  Despite Ama kindly informing us she went to bed early, what a heavy sleeper she was, and how she wouldn’t wait up for me, I decided there was no way I would bring Kai to her house.

  Instead, I grabbed an overnight bag while Kai and Kofi chatted in the driveway, waiting for me.

  We had a week. Maybe a month. I wouldn’t waste time thinking about what everything meant or the future. We had now.

  Carpe vir! Seize the man!

  SOME PEOPLE MIGHT think sleeping with, and by sleeping I mean fucking, a man they’d recently met made a woman a slut.

  I disagreed.

  Two consenting adults, who both agreed to engage in sex with each other with no emotional strings attached and a mutual understanding—combined with sexual chemistry, respect, and a desire to pleasure each other—were about the healthiest kind of people there could be.

  Being a woman not in my twenties, or even thirties, unmarried, never married, no kids, lacking the mothering gene, far from a size two, meant people saw me as a spinster, a charity case to be pitied, or worse, a pariah out to steal the good, married men.

  In my book, there was nothing wrong about spinsters in the true definition. Or a slut, if she acted safe and healthy.

  I wouldn’t go quietly into middle age.

  No way.

  I was healthy and safe. I knew what got me off and how. And I had a very hot, very turned on man—younger man I might add—who wanted me in the most carnal way.

  I would be a fool to keep my knees together for propriety.

  However, I wasn’t prepared for Kofi’s frown when he dropped us off at The Ambassador.

  “You are a lady, Dr. Selah,” he reminded me, his expression serious.

  I gave him a small, confused smile. “Thank you.”

  In the lobby, I asked Kai what Kofi meant.

  “He doesn’t approve of you spending the night with me. That sort of thing isn’t done in Ghana by proper ladies.”

  “He literally frowned upon me when I got out of the car,” I said.

  “Better than the look I received. I’ll explain things to him tomorrow.”

  “What sort of things? I’m pretty sure he knows about the birds & the bees. He has five kids.”

  Kai laughed. “No, I’ll explain about us. Set him straight.”

  “About? Will you tell him you’re not stealing my virtue?”

  Kai’s face grew solemn. “I didn’t know you weren’t a virgin.”

  I choked on my own spit, my cough echoed across the marble floor and high ceilings of the grand lobby. Once I caught my breath, I gave Kai a side-long look. “My virtue is none of your business.”

  He clutched his heart and acted offended. “I’m devastated.”

  “Listen, the HMS Virginity sailed from San Francisco a long time ago. You were probably a toddler then.”

  “Ouch.” He frowned, and his eye crinkles disappeared. “I’m not much younger than you. Age is relative.”

  “Sure, easy for you to say.”

  “Call me a whippersnapper, and I’m calling this whole thing off.” He continued to flirt when we entered the plush elevator, but as soon as the doors closed, he cornered me. “I hope you have the stamina to keep up with me.”

  Where he pinned me with his hips, I could feel his hardness. He loomed over me, dominating in the most delightful way.

  “I’m closer to my sexual peak than you are to yours. I hope you can handle me,” I whispered. Further words fell away when his lips crashed into mine.

  Apparently, somewhere between the lobby and the elevator, we had lost all pretense about where this was heading, which was fine by me. I didn’t mind direct. In spite of my wavering and chickening out in Amsterdam, I was still myself. I didn’t need wooing and proclamations to seduce me into bed.

  The ping announcing our arrival on his floor broke us apart, barely. He turned and backed me down the hall, his hands guiding me while his lips occupied themselves on my neck. I hit the wall near his door when he released me to find his key card.

  Speaking of beds, holy luxurious king-sized bed with a million thread count sheets. If my twin beds at Ama’s could be any mid-rate hotel, this room earned its five stars. Polished dark woods, masculine grays, and crisp whites decorated the mini-suite with a sitting area on one side, and the aforementioned bed peeking out behind a column of a wall holding a flat screen TV.

  TV. I hadn’t watched any since I left home. Suddenly, I missed my reality shows and the twenty-four-hour news cycle. I walked over to it and lovingly stroked its black surface.

  “Did you caress the television?” Kai asked, standing behind me.

  I turned to face h
im. “Maybe.” I looked around the space. “Was the elevator some sort of portal?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This hotel belongs in New York. Or Vegas. Or Shanghai. It feels too grand, too fancy, too pretentious to exist in the land of Mona Lisa monkeys.”

  “Do I even want to know about these Mona Lisa monkeys?”

  “Long story.”

  “Another time, then.” He glanced around the space. “It is kind of pretentious. Especially for people here to discuss loans for small businesses which could run for a month with the cost of a single night.”

  “I’m trying not to judge.”

  “Too late?”

  “Too late. I don’t understand the whole money entitlement thing.”

  He shrugged and looked slightly uncomfortable. “Another good reason you didn’t know who I was when we met.”

  “Are you an entitled bastard?” Images of him in his custom suits came to mind.

  “Let’s say I came from privilege and have been trying to make up for it ever since.”

  “Sounds noble and humble.”

  “Better than entitled bastard?”

  “Much.”

  “Some people might say I’m still a bastard.” He stalked closer to me, a lion trapping his prey.

  “Who?” I whispered, my pulse thrumming in my ears.

  He tipped his head and stared at me. “Why do I have the feeling you prefer the bad boys?” His eyes sparkled in the dim light from the room’s low table lamps. He ran his thumb over his bottom lip.

  “Who doesn’t?” My voice trembled, betraying my excitement. Bad boys were my weakness. His suits and clean cut looks threw me off, but the look in his eye, and this new, dominating energy, had nothing to do with good deeds.

  My back hit the wall, and I angled my face to meet his eyes, now hooded and heavy with lust. He dragged his thumb along my jaw. When it neared my lips, I grasped his thumb, sucking the tip into my warm mouth. Making eye contact, the spark from a few moments earlier morphed into flames.

  I nipped the fleshy pad of his thumb, dragging my bottom teeth across the underside, giving him a taste of things to come. The thought of coming made me tighten my thighs together, seeking relief from the building ache.