by Rizer, Bibi
“Did you come all the way here for sex?” I ask.
“No.” He moves his lips across my cheek, over my ear, into my hair.
“What did you come here for?”
He moans as I tighten my grip. “I…uh…can we talk about that later?” I pull his pants down, and feel something crackle in one pocket. My fingers come out with a condom.
“You presumptuous little devil,” I say, tearing it open with my teeth. “Take your shirt off.”
He obeys, wriggling out of his shirt as I roll the condom on.
“Want to take my panties off?”
He flips me onto my back, pushing my knees apart. “No. No time.” He pulls the black lace to the side with one hand, gripping his cock with the other, nudging it into my opening. A second later, he’s inside me to the hilt. I gasp at the sudden sensation of fullness and pleasure.
We stop there for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes. He reaches up and wipes the remaining tears from my cheeks with his thumb. And as we stare at each other, our eyes seem to speak in a language all their own.
I’m sorry, my eyes say, for not finding you sooner.
I should have come back months ago, to look for you.
There was a moment I thought you were dead.
I thought maybe you hated me.
I don’t hate you. I’m falling in love with you.
I’m falling in love with you, too.
While this is happening, Levi moves his hips, slowly, gently at first, but gaining intensity. Every nerve inside me lights up as his cock strokes my core. I lift my knees and wrap my legs around him, deepening our connection. And still our eyes never break contact. And with each thrust, each rush of pleasure, we knit ourselves together – our bodies, our minds, our hearts.
Levi lets out a low growl, and I know he’s losing control. Seeing that happen, seeing his face with such an ecstatic expression quickens my own response, and suddenly the burn of an approaching orgasm is blazing across my skin.
“Come with me,” I say. “I want to watch you come again.”
We both start to shake, unable to tear our eyes apart, watching as the tension crests and releases with convulsing waves.
“God…” he says. “Charlotte.”
I pull him down by his hair and capture his mouth, his breaths gasping as he comes down from the peak.
I hold him between my legs, my pussy twitching around his softening cock, and feel the muscles of his back and arms slowly relaxing.
“I should pull out,” he says. “The condom will fall off.”
I release him, letting him move backwards to deal with the condom. Then we lie next to each other, mesmerized by each other’s faces, our gazes still locked together.
“Your eyes are so beautiful,” he says.
“I was about to say the same about you.”
We breathe together for a moment. He kisses me, tender and soft.
“I have a plan,” he says.
“You do?”
“Yes. It’s a complicated plan with many steps, so you’ll have to listen carefully.”
“I see,” I say, propping myself up on my elbow. “Should I take notes?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary. Just listen.”
“Okay. I’m listening.”
He rolls onto his back and looks at the ceiling, his hands behind his head. “So, here’s what I think we should do. I think we should have a shower, maybe make out a bit in the shower—that’s optional. Then I think we should go out for breakfast or brunch or lunch or whatever, because I’m starving. Then we should come back here and take all our clothes off so we can have sex actually naked for a change.” He takes a breath.
“Good plan,” I say.
“I’m not done.” A little smile is growing on his face. “After the naked sex, we’ll probably need a nap—you especially. You’ll be worn out. About an hour will be enough, and that will take us to…what…?” he looks at his watch. “About three o’clock. So then we’ll go to a car dealer and sell that shitty car of yours. We’ll buy some luggage and pack all your stuff in it and take your keys to your landlord. Then we’ll go to the airport and I’ll buy you a ticket to come back to Seattle with me.” He bites his lip, not looking at me.
“What?” I’m not sure I heard him right.
“We don’t need to sell the car. We could get someone to drive it to Seattle. Also, there could be more sex in between packing and going to your landlord.”
“Levi…I…”
He sighs. And a few seconds tick by. I’m processing what he’s said, not rejecting it outright. But it’s a lot to take in. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. He did just fly across the country overnight to see me.
“Which parts of the plan don’t you like?” he says.
“We barely know each other, Levi.”
He rolls over to look at me, and I see the hurt in his eyes. But there’s something else in there – a fire, a determination that he’s shown me before. The moment before he first kissed me on Bourbon Street. The second before he took out that Russian. This is a man in control of his own destiny who’s looking back at me. It’s a different man than the tightly wound guy who refused to enjoy my lap dance.
“I want to know you,” he says. “We don’t have to live together or anything. That would be reckless. But I’ve been trying to meet girls, and I just keep thinking about you. Omar says it’s only about the sex, but I don’t think so. Do you?”
Most of the time, I do think for men, it’s all about the sex. Most of the time, I think that men judge women on how their cock feels about them, rather than how their heart feels, or their head. And that almost always ends badly. But with Levi, somehow I think his cock might be guiding him the right way. I think he needs a girl like me – someone a little wild, someone to put a little edge on his well-ordered life. And hell, I love to be needed. I’m only wondering if I need him.
Levi puts his hand on my face, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I’ve seen guys do that in movies, but no one has ever done it to me. “I can protect you, Charlotte,” he says.
And I want to say, “Protect me from what?” But instead, I just burst into tears again. Because there are so many things that no one has ever protected me from. Douchebag high school basketball players, creepy, handsy professors, disgusting frat boys, all those perverts at the club, Jack and his money-worshipping rigidity. Rick and his revolting beer breath.
Russian gangster pimps.
The truth is, I love showing off my body. I love sex – I love the way it makes me feel and the sense of power it gives me to open myself up to pleasure – to his pleasure and mine. But I don’t think I’ve ever found anyone who deserved to share that. Or even appreciated it. I’m fine with being a strong, independent woman out in the world. I can hunt and gather with the best of them. But maybe in the moments when I want to show that vulnerability, it would be nice to be in the comfort and safety of a man like Levi’s arms. The thought makes me cry even harder. Why did it take five months for me to remember his last name?
Levi seems oddly untroubled by my tears. He doesn’t desperately ask me what’s wrong or cling to me as though it’s him that’s crying. He just strokes my hair and brushes away the tears as they come.
“You’re not trying to fix it,” I say.
“What?”
“The tears. When girls cry, guys always try to fix it.”
He kisses me sweetly. “You can’t fix a rainstorm,” he says. “You just wait it out.”
I do one of those half-sobs, half-laughs that sounds like a pig snorting. Levi doesn’t mind.
“That’s very sage,” I say.
“I’m from Seattle. I know rain.”
“Does it rain there a lot?”
“Pretty much every day.”
“But no hurricanes, right?”
He starts to smile, because I think he knows he has me. He’s reeling me in like a catfish – a real one, not the Internet kind. “No hurricanes. And we’re
so earthquake-ready that Los Angeles asks us for advice. Also, our murder rate is a quarter what it is here.”
“A quarter? Jeezus.”
“Yep. And the Canadian border is right there, two hours away, if you ever want poutine.”
“What the hell is poutine?”
“Seriously, I can’t even explain. You just have to try it.”
I look down and see that our clothes are still sex-mangled. My boobs are hanging out of my bra, panties all bunched up to one side. Levi’s pants and boxers are around his knees. I can’t quite believe we’ve just had such a potentially life altering conversation in such a state of undress. But even so disheveled, Levi is hard to resist. Or maybe it’s because of his dishevelment?
“I guess I could try it,” I say.
“Do you mean the poutine? Or Seattle?”
I smile at him, and just for effect, I curl my fingers around his cock. “Both,” I say.
We squeeze in a bit more sex before the shower, too.
Chapter Fifteen – Levi
Charlotte stares out the plane window, though there’s nothing to see but other planes waiting for clearance to take-off.
“Have you been on a plane before?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says. “I mean, it didn’t go anywhere. We came here on a field trip when I was in fourth grade. They gave us a tour.” She checks the seat’s back pocket, glancing at the magazine before rejecting it. “You fly a lot?”
“My mom owns a travel agency, so yes. Plus, we’re one of those families that have to travel to another time zone if we actually want to talk to each other.”
She finds the menu card. “The food is free? I thought you had to buy airplane food now.”
“Not in business class,” I say. “Mom got the upgrades for me. It’s not like I paid for it.”
She just shrugs.
“I don’t want to give you a bossy billionaire vibe,” I say. “I think that’s kind of gross.”
“Are you a billionaire?”
“Ha! No. I drive an eight-year-old Matrix and work night shifts.”
“Well, thank God, because as you know, I’m allergic to money.”
I lean forward and whisper in her ear. “Except when it’s being stuffed into your bra.”
“Only you’ll be doing that from now on.”
The thought of that gives me a semi, which is amazing considering the amount of sex I’ve had in the last twenty-four hours. I cross my legs, grateful that the leg room in business class allows it.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We’ve been assured by the tower that the back-up is being cleared, so we should be in the air in about ten minutes. I’m sorry for the delay, and thank you for your patience.”
Charlotte catches me staring at her. “What?”
“Now would be the time to make a run for it, if you’ve changed your mind.”
She slides her hands into my lap and grabs my miraculous hard-on. I guess crossing my legs wasn’t all that subtle. “If I ran, would you come after me so we could have one of those running-through-the-airport scenes?”
“I would, but then we’d miss this flight.”
She pouts. “I’ve always wanted someone to run through the airport for me.”
“Tell you what. When we get to Seattle, I’ll race you to the baggage carousel.”
She leans forward and whispers. “When we get in the air, I’ll suck you off in the bathroom.”
I let out a hoot of laughter. One of the flight attendants scowls at me like it’s against the rules to laugh in business class. We’re the youngest people in here by about twenty years. I take Charlotte’s hand and move it off my crotch. I don’t think we should be too obvious.
“I should tell you something before we take off,” I say. With all the sex and pitiful begging her to come with me, I forgot one thing I needed to say.
“You’re married?” she says, with mock seriousness. “You’re gay? You’re actually Jesus?”
“Shh,” I say, though I’m the one who’s laughing too loud for the rest of the passengers. “I’m not Jesus or gay or married.” I take a breath. “I’m going to the Police Academy in the fall.”
Charlotte frowns and leans back. “What?”
“Do you hate cops? Because I totally understand if you do. And obviously, I’m going to try to be one of the good ones. But when I was researching that article, I interviewed this guy who was doing undercover work in sex trafficking, and the academy has a special program for undercover training. So I applied and got offered a spot, and I have to decide whether to take it. And I’ve decided. This has been bothering me for a long time, I realize now, even before everything that happened that night. But I just never knew what I could do about it. Now I know. I realize it seems like something a six-year-old would think of, but that’s what I want to do.”
She stares at me, and I start to wonder if she might really just run off. Maybe she thought she was hooking up with a cushy lawyer-to-be, and a hard-nosed, underpaid, undercover detective is not really her scene.
“Like the levies,” she says.
“What?”
“I remember Hurricane Katrina like it was yesterday. The storm was bad enough, and the chaos afterwards, but after that? All those people drowned. All those homes lost. Because the levies broke. And I wanted to fix them. That’s all I ever wanted to do, because I see bad things and I want to fix them.”
“Me, too.” I press my nose to hers, sliding my hands into her hair.
“But not tears?”
“No. Tears don’t need fixing. Tears are good.”
The plane starts to move. And most of the economy class behind us applauds. It seems like they are applauding for us. Charlotte pulls my hands out of her hair and holds them in her lap.
“Will you hold my hand until we get to Seattle?”
“Uh, it’s an eight-hour journey. We change planes in Houston.”
“Too bad. I’m not letting you go.”
“I’m not letting you go either.”
A sudden lightness comes over me, and I look out the window expecting to see us taking off, but we’re still just trundling along the runway, waiting our turn behind two other planes. And when we land in Houston, we’ll wait for another flight. In Seattle, we’ll wait for our bags, and wait for a taxi. I have to wait for the Academy semester to start. Charlotte will have to wait to find a job or an apartment. And maybe she’ll go back and finish her degree. There’s a whole world of waiting in lines involved there. Meanwhile I’ll be waiting for the inevitable screaming fight with my parents when they find out I’ve quit school.
I’m not worried about that one, though. It’s about time I started making decisions for myself.
The end.
If you enjoyed this book please consider taking the time to leave a review. You can also keep up to date with Bibi Rizer’s latest publications at her website BibiRizer.com. Join Bibi’s Street Team!
Don’t miss the first Fireworks Novella, Electrify Me.
Also by Bibi Rizer, The Obsdian Stairway, the first novella in the City of Dark Pleasures serial.
If you’re curious how the sexual slavery motherfuckers depicted in this book finally get what’s coming to them, watch out for Cutter's Hope: Book I of the Virtues trilogy, a novel of The Kraken MC by A J Downey. It drops Christmas 2015. Get to know AJ at www.authorajdowney.blogspot.ca