by Lark Maren
“Every inch of you is lickable,” she moaned, tracing her fingers so softly over my skin I could barely feel them, but the goosebumps she was drawing from my skin was an entirely different story. She toyed with my dress, sliding it up and down until she tugged it up over my head. I laid in front of her completely nude, completely vulnerable, gazing over my shoulder and waiting for her next move.
As her lips grazed my back, right between my shoulder blades, my muscles stiffened, fingernails digging into my rose-printed comforter.
“You’re so sensitive,” she whispered in my ear, her hot breath making me jump, “this is going to be so fun.” I turned my lips to greet hers, but she firmed her hand on the back of my scalp, holding me down as she straddled my body.
Her kisses lit me on fire. Everywhere her lips touched stoked the flames inside me. It was almost painful, the way she had my hands pinned to my sides between her soft but strong thighs. I wanted to touch her, wanted to rip her clothes off, but she had me paralyzed, had me trapped in her web of kisses in places that made my toes curl and my brain turn to mush.
“Let me touch you,” I pleaded, aching to feel her perfect breasts in my hands, to taste her skin, to make her cum, but she pretended like she couldn’t hear me, her mouth dwelling on that spot on the small of my back, as her fingers interlaced with mine. I was crawling out of my skin, my clit throbbing between my legs, heat radiating down my thighs.
She flipped me over in one fell swoop, and I reached for her again, this time, her mouth landing on mine. She moaned into my mouth as I slipped my fingers under her shirt, teasing them over her nipples until they were hardened. She was just as sensitive as I. Or maybe it was just something about me, about us. I knew I’d never wanted anyone as bad as I wanted her. I knew no matter how she touched me, I’d love it. Crave it.
I slid her shirt off over her shoulders, reveling in her body. I knew how much work she put into it, and not just on the football field. Her sun-kissed shoulders, flecks of freckles on her pale skin, her slightly callused hands; she was not a kept woman. She was a provider. A hard worker. Her own person. I admired her with a selfish sort of jealousy. I had the resources and time to be conventionally pretty. If I didn’t like something about myself, I could pay someone to fix it for me. It made me feel unnatural up against her. Ugly, even.
Everything about her was beautiful just because. I buried my face in her breasts, cupping them together, worshiping her perfect flesh until her hips began to rock back and forth. I could feel the heat radiating between her thighs as she grinded against my hips, and in that instant, it became my life mission to get her off in any way possible, to show her I was good at something, to make her actually want me, maybe make her want me to keep me around permanently?
I knew it was a shot in the dark, and I wished with everything in me I could just focus on the moment, the awesome thing we had right now. I needed to get out of my own head.
“Oh my God,” I mewled as she traced her fingers over my mound. Mission accomplished. I was out of my head. I was out of my mind. I was putty in her hands.
“You’re so wet.” She dipped her finger into my pussy, staring into my eyes the entire time, a cocky smile on her lips. “Were you this wet last night?”
“No,” I gasped as she slid another finger in, twisting them both up towards my g-spot. “And I even had battery assistance.”
She raised her eyebrows and pressed her lips to mine again, twisting and flicking her fingers in and out of me, meticulously rubbing me everywhere but my clit as I wiggled my hips, trying to relieve some of the pressure.
“I’d definitely not be against seeing that sometime.”
“You keep doing that and I’ll throw the whole damn drawer away.” She pressed her thumb into my clit, just watching me as I lost control of my body, writhing, on the edge of explosion.
“The whole drawer, huh?” she asked, pressing down even harder. “I had no idea you were such a wild woman.” I let out a groan from the depths of my soul as she finally coaxed me to release, my core contracting tightly around her fingers. “Look at you,” she said, as if she was impressed with herself. She had every right to be. That minute of teasing was nothing in retrospect. She knew exactly what she was doing.
“Get up here,” I said, grabbing her hips. “Sit on my face. I want to taste you.” She smiled mischievously as she straddled me, her muscular thighs on either side of my head. As she lowered herself down ever so slightly, I brought my lips to her clit, kissing it softly, her wetness covering my lips. I took my tongue and swirled it over her slit, dragging her juices up and down as her hips began to softly rock. That moan alone was enough to drive me absolutely wild. I’d do this for the rest of my life just to hear her angelic voice, just to taste her.
I grabbed her hips tighter, pulling her down onto me so I could poke my tongue in and out of her, teasing her as she rocked harder. I felt her muscles stiffen and knew she was close, and as I flattened my tongue onto her clit, her thighs clung to my ears.
She rolled over, pulling me into her embrace, pressing her lips to mine with a passionate hunger. She nibbled on my lower lip until I gasped, the little shock of painful pleasure just making me crave more of her.
“You’re amazing,” she said, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. “So sexy.”
I didn’t have words, my breath choppy and staggered. I reached for the water bottle on my nightstand. I ran my fingers down her quivering thighs and she laughed.
“Guess I don’t have to feel bad about missing my workout today.”
“I will be your personal trainer anytime,” I teased, massaging her muscles. We laid on the comforter, drenched in sweat, sighing and groaning. She brought my fingers to her lips, kissing them each softly, and I couldn’t help but wonder if this was her normal modus operandi. I knew she was a player, but this intimate moment seemed like more. Did she want more? Or was this how she played her game?
As if waking up from a dream, she sat up and shook her head. “I should probably get going.”
“Why?” I asked. “We have the house to ourselves. I can go sleep in the spare room if you want. It’s no big deal.”
I pulled the sheets back on the bed, inviting her to get in. She looked at me apprehensively, and I could tell she was trying to find any excuse to leave. There was really no polite way to do it, being as her car was all the way on the other side of the city.
“It’s not you,” she said. “I just don’t want to give you the wrong impression. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, Ella. I really do like you. You just have to see why things would never work out between us. I don’t have time to treat you right. Anybody for that matter.”
“I understand,” I said with a weak smile. The more excuses that came out of her mouth, the less she sounded like even she was convinced of them. I was wearing her down. Either me or the Egyptian cotton sheets she was petting like a fluffy baby bunny. “Nice, huh?”
“You keep giving me less and less reason to want to ever leave this room again. Wouldn’t it be awesome if life was so easy?” She patted the mattress next to her, inviting me to join her and I crawled in, tucking my head in the crook of her shoulder, flipping on the television set as she ran her fingers through my hair.
“It can be that easy. Come work with me. I’m making all sorts of new management positions on the team and I want you to be our community outreach liaison.”
“Babe, I don’t even know what that means,” she said, pressing her lips to my forehead. “Besides, things get messy when you mix business with all this. Whatever this is.”
I tried to hide my smirk. At least she was admitting this thing between us was actually something.
“Tonya Fields, are you catching feelings for me?”
“I don’t believe in feelings,” she said, grabbing the remote from my hand and turning the TV to NFL Live. As if feelings weren’t a documented scientific thing. As if one didn’t feel pain when they touched a hot stove, or sadness when they lost someo
ne they cared about. It was the dumbest thing I ever heard out of anyone’s mouth, but it was so typical Tonya I just brushed it off. What she said was only one part of the equation. I learned in our short time together how she acted was the only way I could truly know what was going on in her mind.
Mixed signals, like how she traced her fingers over my palm as she swore at the television like I wasn’t even in the room. When she draped her thigh over my naked body almost possessively and pulled her pillow closer to mine, her eyelids on the verge of sleep, I breathed a sigh of relief. At least in her slumber the only signal she sent me was that something about her and I was just so right. In her slumber, life really was that easy.
Chapter Fourteen
Tonya:
What the fuck time is it?
I blinked my eyes open. Ella was snoring softly, sprawled across the bed like she was used to sleeping alone, her one arm draped over me, not because she was aware I was there, but more like an inconvenience.
It still wasn’t light out yet. At least I had that going for me. As much fun as it was existing in this fantasy land where all that mattered was this smoking hot chick who was head over heels for me and her secret super power of pulling me out of reality simply with the batting of her eyelids, I knew my time was up. At least for today. Those road signs weren’t going to flip themselves, and no matter how many times she assured me she could make everything alright, I wasn’t about to give up my day job.
Her bed was so warm and comfy, though, and I slid my bare legs up and down the sheets, savoring their softness. Not as soft as her hair, or her skin, or her tongue, but delicious nonetheless. I couldn’t help but wonder if she picked these out herself or if they were something her parents bought for her. I hated the fact that that’s where my mind often went when she was around. How much was her, how much was her parents, but I didn’t blame her one bit for taking full advantage of her circumstance. Still didn’t mean they would be cool with her dragging me along for a free ride. Not that that’s something I wanted.
No matter how bad I wanted her, no matter how much she was growing on me, I’d always feel like a stray cat in the back of my mind. Give me a little food, a safe and warm place to sleep, rub me the right way, at the end of the day, I still needed to go out and roam the streets on my own. I couldn’t be kept.
I needed to get to my phone. I needed to get to my car. I needed to get back to my life. I made Areal promise to call me every night before she went to bed, and here it was, day one, and I was already shirking my responsibilities. I gently caressed Ella’s hand in mine, moving it over to her side of the bed as she let out a soft snort. I sat up slowly, not wanting to startle her, but I couldn’t stop staring at her in the moonlight seeping through the blinds. Even in her sleep she was stunning. Just looking at her plump lips made me want to linger on them until the sun came up. How peaceful she looked in her sleep. She was probably dreaming about puppies and rainbows, not a care in the world. Just another reason why she needed to get away from me and my sack of baggage as quickly as possible.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, her eyelids barely fluttering open. “Did my snoring wake you up?”
“No.” I kissed her on the forehead, and she sunk back into her pillow, a smile stretched across her face. “I think I have to go soon. I have to go to work.”
“Sure.” She slid out from under the blankets and paced across the room, the curve of her ass making me wish she’d just beg me to call off and we could spend the day in bed together. She wasn’t going to, though. No, something had changed between us. I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. After last night, I realized Ella was no longer going to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do. She wasn’t going to try and meddle in my life. The simple act of watching her dress in the middle of the night made me feel closer to her than I’d ever felt to anyone before. She was trying to support me. “Do you think you have time for coffee before you go to work? Do you want me to pack you a lunch?”
I grumbled as I peeled myself out from under these delicious sheets.
“It’s about four am. What time do you need to go in?”
Her sweatpants hung low on her hips, and I couldn’t help but stand behind her, hooking my finger in the elastic, feeling the smooth skin of her hips. I rested my face in her hair, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair.
“You’re awful cuddly for a woman who doesn’t believe in feelings,” she said, jarring me from my moment of tenderness.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” This had nothing to do with love. I liked her. I liked being here with her. I didn’t want to face what was on the other side of that door yet. I just wanted to linger. Could be with her, or probably anybody else for that matter , I reminded myself.
Except that couldn’t be further from the truth.
I was a hump and dump chick. I normally never made it back to the bedroom of my current hookup. I certainly wasn’t typically trying to dissect every single note of fragrance in their hairspray so I could dream about them all day at work.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I don’t think straight til I have some coffee in me.”
“Go back to bed,” I urged. “I can probably walk to a bus. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m good.”
She shook her head and laughed, tossing me the keys to her car. “Trust me, I’m going back to bed. Call me a spoiled brat all you want, but I didn’t sign up for stupid o’clock. I’d probably drive into a tree. I will make you some breakfast, though.”
I felt the weight of the keys burning a hole in my hand. Was she really handing her car over to me so casually? Was that a thing that rich people did? I got dressed in yesterday’s clothes, feeling a little grungy, but there was no way in hell her and I could share a pair of jeans. I followed her down the steps, looking over my shoulder the entire time. I knew her parents weren’t supposed to be home until next week, but for some reason I felt their eyes following me everywhere. If her dad was waiting in the kitchen polishing his rifle, I wouldn’t be surprised. I had no business spending the night in their daughter’s room.
Her coffee machine looked like one from an upscale cafe, and she went to work, pulling knobs and flipping switches as I stood there with my hands in my pocket. She grabbed a stainless steel tumbler from the cabinet. “You need room for cream?” she asked.
I shook my head, the heavenly aroma filling the kitchen.
“I didn’t think so,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Cream is too frivolous for a woman like you.”
“You’re throwing out an awful lot of generalizations. You’re kind of a jerk in the morning.” I laughed and took the mug from her hand, blowing on the steaming black coffee before putting it to my lips.
“Sorry, I guess I didn’t just expect you to still be here.” She poured herself a cup, and then opened up their gigantic refrigerator, standing in front of it, studying the contents.
“Was I supposed to like jump out the window or something?” I asked. “Did you want me to leave?”
She put her hands on her hips and cracked her neck. She looked perturbed, which confused me even more. I thought she wanted to tame me. I thought she had feelings for me. Instead, she was giving me a dose of my own medicine.
“No. I didn’t want you to leave at all. I got everything I wanted. As usual. And now I feel confused. As usual.”
“I’m sorry?” I half asked.
“Don’t be,” she said, moving closer to me, taking me by the hand. She brought it to her lips and kissed my knuckles. Now I was completely lost. “What time are you done today?”
“I should be done by one. I need to drop by the bar though and make sure I’m still on the schedule. Then I have practice tonight. When do you want me to drop off your car? I’m sure you have places you need to be today.”
“I got a backup,” she said with an apprehensive giggle. It was almost adorable the way she called herself out every time she pointed out her financial situation, but I didn’t like how she felt guil
ty around me. If we were ever to have a future together, I’d need to figure out a way to make her comfortable being who she was. “Why don’t we do this again tonight? I mean, if you want to.”
“You sure about that?” I asked. She was right to some extent. Typically I would’ve been out the door the second she passed out. Typically I wouldn’t have even entertained the thought of coming back for a round two tonight. Something about her made me feel utterly atypical, though. I wanted to come back. I wanted to be near her. I wanted to just hang out and bullshit. Do normal things together like eat meals and watch TV. I wanted to play house with her, even if this wasn’t our house. I wanted to go about my day and come home to her, whatever that might look like. I felt my head for a fever. I was losing my damn mind.
“You don’t have to promise me. It’ll only make it worse if you don’t show up.”
“Well I have to get you your car back at some point,” I said, trying to ignore her pitiful statement. “I mean, I know I’m good, but I don’t think I’m BMW good.”
“We’ll figure it out,” she said. She grabbed some leftovers from our barbecue feast out of the fridge along with an apple and an orange from a bowl on the countertop and stuffed it in a brown paper bag. “Don’t forget to eat.”
“You got it.” I pecked her on the lips and she rested her head on my shoulder for a moment, shaking her head as she broke our embrace. “I’ll talk to you later?”
“Yeah,” she said, almost sadly. Before I could even walk out the door, she was slinking back up the steps, watching me from over her shoulder. I felt weird, like I’d already broken her heart before I even had the chance to fuck up. Maybe this was the way things always were, I just never cared enough to notice.
I stepped out into the garage, admiring the white BMW for a moment before getting inside, the smell of leather flooding my senses. My hands shook as I hit the button to open the garage door. This just felt like a recipe for disaster. I’d never been in a car accident before, but I’d never driven anything so nice, either. I planned on going ten miles under the speed limit all the way to work, even if it meant being late.