Under the Influence

by L. B. Simmons

  I gasp and clutch my chest in mock surprise. “I thought you said a magician never reveals his secrets?”

  He grins before glancing back at me. “I also remember saying that I’ve never really been one to follow the rules. Case in point.”

  Another laugh passes through my lips as we approach the tree, the lights seemingly brighter as darkness begins to set in. I release my hold and watch as he sets the basket down and tugs the blanket off his shoulder, whipping it open and laying it on the ground in front of us. Once it’s situated, he sets the basket in the center, pulling the contents out and distributing them onto the knitted surface.

  A vase filled to the brim with daisies, four jar candles each lit as they’re removed and placed on the corners of the blanket, a crockpot, two champagne flutes and an illegal bottle of champagne, paper plates, napkins, and plastic utensils all set out before he extracts the final item—yet another blanket. This one, however, is slightly less sophisticated. I giggle at what looks to be an old sleeping bag covered with Spiderman striking numerous attack positions.

  He glances over his shoulder, raising his brows. “You dare laugh at Peter Parker?”

  “No.” I mirror his wide-eyed gesture, stifling laughter as I attempt a stern expression. “Never.”

  His chin dips, satisfied with my answer before he pats the blanket beneath him. I kick off my flip-flops and take a seat next to him. He pulls me close and drapes his arm over my shoulder as I snuggle into his warmth. After a couple of seconds of pure bliss, he leans forward, bringing my body with him as he snakes the picnic basket and pulls it onto the other side of his body.

  Once it’s out of view, he grandly gestures at the arrangement in front of us. “For your birthday dinner this evening—because you deserve nothing less than the best—I have made for you … mac and cheese.”

  I bite my lip to keep the laughter contained as he continues his demonstration, moving from the crock pot to the champagne. “Cheap champagne and…” His hand is still in motion as he speaks, “plasticware, of course.”

  “Of course,” I repeat with a nod as my smile refuses to be concealed.

  The setting sun along with the candles highlights his features as he glances to the basket at his side. The length of his nose, the curve of his jaw, the golden locks of hair that peek out from underneath his cap—they are all I see as he reaches inside to pull out a large black box, then places it on the blanket beside me.

  His blue eyes rise to once again meet mine, full of subdued eagerness. “But first, your present.”

  Grin still intact, I reach forward and lift the box onto my lap, surprised by its weight. My fingers curl underneath the lid and I lift it slowly, digging through the tissue paper inside before finally landing on its contents. I attempt to lift it one-handed, but its heaviness requires the use of my other hand for me to be able to remove it.

  As it rises, my eyes hone in on a silver heart comprised of several intricately etched puzzle pieces, all linked together as they form the six-inch tall, three-inch wide weight in my hand. The glint of the metallic surface reflects off the candlelight surrounding us and as my gaze trails along the joined lines, my breath stalls in recognition of the meaning.

  “The day that every single one of my fractured pieces permanently fused with yours…”

  All previous amusement is gone as he watches my reaction, his eyes now full of unspoken emotion as he extends his finger to single out one of the puzzle pieces before he speaks. “That’s us, Spence. All separate pieces of you and me that fit together to make a whole.”

  He jerks his chin at the heart in my hands. “Those are some of the strongest magnets I could find. Made with Neodymium. The pieces are practically impossible to break apart, just as we are, as we’ve always been.”

  Sentiment constricts my throat and I swallow deeply, fully embracing his words. And although I find myself rendered completely speechless, my eyes convey every ounce of emotion brimming inside me. After giving him a nod of understanding, I lower the heart to sit safely beside me then rise onto my knees, fully resolved.

  I tug off his cap and press my lips to his, silently rewarding his brazen gesture as he openly displays this uncharted vulnerability. As our mouths slowly meld, I willingly concede that this moment will forever change both our lives.

  Damn, I guess Cassie was right…

  Because as I break the kiss only to become lost in the depths of the piercing blue eyes staring back at me, I know without a doubt…

  Dalton Greer is not going to be the only one breaking rules tonight.

  “SPENCE,” I FORCE MYSELF to speak, which proves difficult because everything within my entire being wants to continue getting lost in her.

  Her warmth.

  Her eyes.

  Her mouth.

  Her taste.

  But I can’t be selfish. Not with this. I need to know with full certainty that she’s ready to take this step, to know there will be no regrets.

  So I force my head to overrule my lower brain and press her away. “Spence,” I try again between heavy breaths, “we need to stop.”

  She stills at my words, her heavy lids fluttering open as sounds of our rapid breathing fill the air. Her features morph from that of pure pleasure to those of embarrassment and incomprehension, completely shattering my heart as it pounds within my chest. I swallow deeply, then clear my throat before trying to reassure her. “I want to take it slow. I don’t want to mess this up by moving too fast.”

  Her mouth lifts into a relenting smile as she nods, inhaling deeply and tucking a disheveled lock of her hair behind her ear. My fingers curl into themselves with the need to thread through those thick tresses again, to feel their softness as they brush lightly against the skin of my hand, to tug them with frenzied impatience as I position her mouth right where I want it. Unable to fight it, I extend my arm and twist a section of her blonde hair around my grip, then pull her mouth to mine, sweeping my tongue along her swollen lips for just one more greedy taste.

  Those lips separate as she moans into my mouth and I swallow it ravenously as my need to feel her, to consume her, to become one with her, slowly begins to dominate my already waning conscience. The war continues to wage as I bend into her further and drag my parted lips along her neck, noting the thrum of her heartbeat as they make their pass. Just as I arrive at the edge of her jaw, my tongue laps at the sensitive area behind her ear before finally taking the lobe into my mouth and nipping ever so gently.

  A needy whimper fills the air as her fingers find their way to my hair, tugging me closer. We both rise onto our knees, our mouths perfectly aligned as I curl my hand around the back of her neck and wrap my other arm around her waist, pulling our bodies flush. Just as she angles her head and seals our mouths, I release my hold on her neck and ease her back, allowing our weight to be absorbed as I brace my arm on the ground below us. My knee lands between her legs and I slide the weight of my upper thigh ever so slowly over the seam of her jeans, the area I know will provoke the exact response I’m looking for. Her lips part with a gasp and I selfishly use it to my advantage as I dive in deeply and claim her mouth in its entirety. Her whole body rakes with an involuntary shudder, and the movement brings my pathetic excuse for a conscience to the forefront with the knowledge that I’m about two-seconds away from ripping her clothes to shreds.

  The need to feel her bare skin against mine drives me, but guilt and remorse finally claim victory as they force me to draw away. My lips yearn with the loss of her warmth, but I ignore the feeling as I continue to rise. Once a safe distance away, I place my elbows on either side of her head, and with both of us inhaling deeply, the pads of my fingers sweep the hair away from her face. I silently try to calm the whirling frenzy inside me, but the passion between us fuses our eyes and I find it impossible to look away. I’m mesmerized by the unadulterated beauty below me—her dark lashes sweeping the tops of her cheeks as she blinks, her long, blonde hair fanned out underneath her shoulders, and her perfect
, plump lips curving into a barely there grin.

  “Why are you staring at me?” she asks, not breaking her forward gaze as her heart pounds beneath mine. The skin underneath the freckles on the bridge of her nose creases, and my heart practically explodes with the sight.

  “Because I can’t seem to take my eyes off of you, no matter how hard I try.”

  “Well, it seems we have the same problem. What are we going do about it?” Her voice is thick and husky as she speaks.

  I graze my knuckles along the soft skin of her cheek. “Not a goddamn thing.”

  She clears her throat before drawing her tongue slowly across her lips and shaking her head. “I don’t want to stop, Dalton. I know what you’re doing. You feel the need to protect me, to guard my innocence, but I want this. I want you … In this field, on top of this blanket, under the light of the moon, and for the stars to be our only witnesses. I can’t think of a more perfect place, a more perfect night, than this. Please don’t take that away from me.”

  She curls her fingers around the nape of my neck and strokes my cheek with her thumb. “Don’t stop, Dalton,” she pleads, completely annihilating whatever semblance of a conscience I conjured in my mind.

  Her body tenses when I lift away but relaxes again as I realign our bodies, breaking only to pull the Spiderman sleeping bag over the top of my back, covering us entirely from the neck down. I watch in awe as she curls her fingers underneath the hem of her blue tank top and lifts her body to remove it. The white lace of her bra is the only thing covering her chest as she reclines onto the blanket beneath us. My heart races and I stare open-mouthed at the pure magnificence of the gift lying in front of me, dumbfounded as to what good I must have done at some point in my life to deserve this moment.

  I marvel at the vulnerability in her eyes as she offers herself, uninhibited and without hesitation. She grins up at me, reaching forward to run her fingers lightly over my lips. And as they make their pass, her eyes darken as I take her index finger fully into my mouth, circling my tongue around the tip then nipping the pad before releasing it. She shifts her body underneath me and the friction of the movement sets me ablaze.

  Fueled with heated desire, I hook my arm over my back and peel off the thermal and undershirt covering my upper body in one fail swoop. My skin aches to feel hers, so much so that when her arms curl around my shoulders, the heat of her bare skin scorches mine as she pulls my body to cover hers. The fiery passion felt between us is sheer ecstasy.

  Greedy for more, I slide my hand beneath her body and she arches her back in response, giving me the permission I need. I pinch my fingers and unclasp her bra as my mouth finds its way to the hollow of her neck, savoring her taste between my parted lips. Placing my weight on my bent elbow, I lean to the side and slowly drag the strap over the opposite shoulder. My tongue traces its way across her body while I deliberately pull the other strap down her arm. Once both straps are removed, I tug the remaining material away. My teeth clench and I instinctively hiss at the contact once her breasts are freed as she does the same.

  Her fingers weave tightly into my hair, tugging and pulling as they direct me downward, placing me completely under her control. Our moans fill the air as I caress the curve of her breast with my lips, stroking lengthy trails along her skin with my tongue, until she reasserts her authority by guiding me unhurriedly to her nipple. I take it into my mouth and almost explode as I feel it harden with just a flick of my tongue. She moans deeply as her back curves off the ground, pressing into me as I grind myself shamelessly into her center. We begin to move in sync and my cock throbs mercilessly with the need to feel her, aching as it searches for its release with each pass of her body.

  “Goddamn, Spencer.”

  My words are strained, unintelligible and muffled against her naked skin. I release her breast from my mouth just as she unclenches her hold on my hair, moving her hands down the skin of my back before sliding them into the back pockets of my jeans. She presses down and her fingers dig deeply as she wraps her legs tightly around my waist, continuing to massage my cock with her steady movements.

  The heat between us builds underneath the weight of the sleeping bag. With ease, my chest glides along her slick skin until my mouth finds hers. Our kisses become frantic as we become lost in each other. My tongue sweeps deeply and hers strokes mine as our breaths morph into heady pants and needy whimpers with our continued rhythm. After one last squeeze, she removes her hands from my back pockets and directs one up my back while the other drops between our bodies. Her legs draw even tighter as her palm presses into the front of my jeans, curling her fingers as she grips my length. Pleasure flares throughout my entire body and my muscles tense in response, overcome with the feeling.

  “Jesus…Spence,” I moan. “You’re incredible.”

  Driven by the need for her to experience the same euphoric sensations, I turn my focus to her. I trail my fingers along the side of her breast before they veer onto her flattened stomach, and continue downward until my palm mirrors against the seam of her jeans. Applying pressure, I circle once and she cries into my mouth before tipping her head and arching her neck as she breaks our kiss. The sight alone sends a tremor to my already throbbing groin, threatening to end this before it’s even started.

  She’s mine.

  The whispered thought echoes in my brain as I watch her reaction to my touch, and the truth of that statement drives me to show her how thankful I am.

  Keeping my hand in place, my lips drag themselves down her sweat-laced neck, the soft area between her breasts, and the hollow of her ribcage until my tongue is gifted the trembling of her stomach muscles with its touch. Her fingers lodge themselves once again into my hair and I smile against her skin, contented that I’m affecting her just as much as her mere presence always affected me.

  My mouth continues to trail its scorching path downward, not stopping until it hits the waistline of her jeans. I dip my tongue just underneath, drawing a leisurely line from hip to hip, and I inhale her deeply before lifting my head to watch her response. With her neck still curved toward the night sky above us, her tongue darts across her lips and the column of her throat moves slowly with her swallow. My eyes remain locked onto her as I make another pass along her skin.

  “Dalton…” she whimpers, imploring for more, which I am more than fucking happy to give her.

  My fingers make fast work of her button before I finally remove my hand from between her legs to join the other. They curl over the material as I slowly tug the jeans over her hips and down her long, smooth legs. The sensation of her soft skin grazing my knuckles forces me to bite my bottom lip to keep from growling. Once removed, I fling the jeans to the side before hungrily running my hands along her bare thighs. Her muscles quiver as I skim the tips of my fingers over the sensitive flesh of her inner leg. Leaning forward, I permit my tongue to trace the same path along both thighs. Her scent fills my nostrils and I breathe it in greedily, tasting her sweet skin with my open mouth until I hit the silk line of her panties. The mewling sound that escapes her causes me to cease any and all movement. An intoxicating shudder rolls through my body and my jeans tighten further with each of the pulsations. I rise to my knees in an attempt to relieve the mounting pressure, before finally hooking my fingers into the sides of her panties and removing them from her body.

  Leaning forward, I part her legs and lower my head, my mouth watering for the chance to taste her essence, her innocence. Enveloped in darkness, I disappear below the top of the sleeping bag, sliding downward until my lips find the apex between her thighs. I take her into my mouth, suckling the budded skin gently as it throbs against the edge of my tongue. Her hips buck in response and her taste floods me.

  Insatiable, my mouth releases her skin and I trace lower, dipping my tongue deep inside of her. The sensation of her clenched muscles and quivering thighs urge me to continue as I devour her. Lapping and sucking, my ears register the sounds of her pants as they transform into needy whines. Her fing
ers thread through my hair and she tugs my head, pulling me closer. I continue to consume as much of her as I can while the rhythm of her hips increases, falling into sync with my working mouth.

  “Oh my God, Dalton…” she moans just before her thighs clench and her body tenses. She cries out breathlessly as her climax continues, and I allow her to ride the waves, gently caressing her with my mouth until her legs finally relax. Then, with a long stroke of my tongue, I take one last indulgent taste before rising above her body to witness the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen in my life.

  Her eyes are darkened with desire and her face flushed as her chest rises and falls with panting breaths. My eyes watch a bead of sweat as it swells on her skin, then rolls down the curve of her breast. I lower my body to capture it with the tip of my tongue, instigating another shudder of her body before lifting away. My gaze is unbreakable as I take in the vision of her lying in front of me, exposed and unabashed. Her hooded stare lingers on mine as she grazes her bottom lip with her teeth and I sear the memory of this moment into my mind.

  Because just as the lion in Aesop’s The Lion in Love so carelessly allowed the removal of his claws and teeth, or as Sampson became so blindly infatuated that he remained utterly defenseless in Delilah’s lap as he slept, I would give anything, sacrifice everything, for even the smallest of chances to experience the love that only Spencer can provide.

  I would die for it.

  I would die for her.

  And with the acknowledgement of that potential cost, I lock my eyes onto hers, fusing our stares with purpose and resolve. My mouth opens to readily form the words, words I have never before spoken. Without an ounce of reluctance, I willingly equip her with the ability to completely destroy me as I whisper…

  “I love you, Spencer.”

  “I LOVE YOU, SPENCER.”

  My breathing ceases with the narrowing of my throat, and the prick of tears stings my eyes as I stare back into the light blue irises that hover above me. No longer obscured by the ever-present storms brewing within them, his eyes are now clear and lucid, filled with new vigor as courage and conviction illuminate his gaze.