by Jordan Bell
“More.”
I bent over, drew up my jeans to expose my black boots and unzipped them one at a time. I was shaking when I slid them off and straightened. I took another two steps towards the bedroom when I heard him move closer, but not too close. Not close enough to touch me.
He exhaled. “More.”
I unhooked the button of my jeans and drew the silver tab down one tooth at a time, loud in the quiet, a teasing sound he couldn’t watch but knew exactly what it meant. I took another step forward and shimmied them over my hips and let them drop around my feet. I stepped out and came into the doorway of the bedroom. I turned a look over my shoulder and found his belt open, hand on his zipper, eyes honed in on the swell of my panties. I thanked every god in the heavens I’d worn a pretty pair of lacy blue boy shorts and matching bra. By the bulge near his hands, he seemed very pleased with my backside.
Without further prodding I disappeared into his dim bedroom, plaits of light sneaking in between the not quite closed curtains. I took a half second to glance around the room, neat without any personal effects decorating the walls or dresser like I’d once been used to. His suitcase and duffle bag lay open on one end of the room, his bed unmade.
I climbed to the middle where the blanket and sheet were most rumpled and knelt facing the door. The sheets smelled unmistakably like him.
He moved silently into the doorway and stopped to stare, his expression unreadable but dreamy. Jason kept his hands settled where his jeans lay open to his stiff shaft tenting his boxers. He looked so masculine and hungry standing there, raking me with his eyes, imagining what he might do with me once he reached me. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and, blushing, crooked a finger bashfully. Come here.
Jason pushed off the door frame and swaggered to his bedside. This close I could feel the heat of his skin radiating towards mine. He cupped a hand against my cheek, then fanned my long hair out across one shoulder than the next. He seemed to like the feel of my hair between his fingers because he touched it for a long time before continuing down over my naked shoulders. At my breasts he touched lightly, traced the scalloped blue edge of my bra to the dip where they pressed together to form full half-moons over the demi-shape. He stroked the soft skin with the pad of his thumb, then lowered his mouth to trace that path with his mouth.
His free hand rested against my hip while he kissed and licked at the swell of plump skin. This was what it must feel like to be worshipped. I closed my eyes and let him explore me, hyper-aware of each kiss, each graze of skin on skin. I shuddered when he spoke, puffs of hot air breaking against my breast.
“Off,” he panted. “Take it off.”
I obeyed and their heaviness fell once released, something I would have been embarrassed about if it weren’t for the pleased growl and the urgency with which he took one of my nipples into his mouth.
I opened my mouth but no sound came out. I clutched the back of his head, wrapped his short dark hair in my fingers and pulled him into me. His hands dug into my soft hips and held me while he lavished each nipple, one after the other, in kisses and licks. Each time he abandoned one for the other, the air would chill against my damp skin and harden my nipple for his pleasure a moment later. Like a little boy who couldn’t decide which flavor of ice cream was his favorite, he spent long minutes sucking and nipping at each breast until I was shaking in his hands, gasping soundlessly bent against his hair.
In one swift movement he latched his hands behind my knees and yanked me on my back, knees obligingly up and open, and he wasted no time crawling between them. This was how I liked him, on top of me, blocking out the world with his strong body. There was nothing of last night in the way he kissed me and stroked my body beneath him. It wasn’t rushed or violent or crazed. This was an exploration, a long journey across every hill and valley, every soft swell and new spot that made me arch and gasp into his mouth. He discovered where I was ticklish at my waist and that I had a particularly strong reaction of arousal when he kissed the flat slice of skin between my right thigh and hip. Before he ever touched my panties, he had me wet and throbbing and desperate.
“Don’t go,” I whined softly when he started to pull away. He smiled and kissed my mouth while he unwound my arms from his neck.
“Not a chance, Cassidy.”
He climbed off me, off the bed, the springs bouncing back once he was gone and my body suddenly cold despite the August heat. I watched him cross the room to his dresser and push his jeans down to his feet, then his boxers, releasing his impressive erection all at once. It sprang forward, hooked slightly upwards, so stiff and ruddy it looked painful. He stood confidently, legs spread a little, while he dug out a condom from his duffle bag.
He returned to the bed in long, animal strides. I bit my lip to suppress a grin, the reaction between my legs instant and a little overwhelming. I wanted to touch it, to ease the ache he’d created and abandoned that he now looked very ready to make up for. He stood next to the bed, aimed between my legs, and unrolled the condom down his shaft. He made it look sexy and gorgeous, not awkward like it had always felt before. The way he did it was a promise, like a kiss. Just wait till I get a hold of you.
7
____________
Jason settled his hand between my legs and ran his thumb down the gusset of my panties. The whole of me went electric and I had to grab onto his sheets to keep myself still. He laughed, throaty and desirous.
“What a beautiful surprise you’ve turned out to be.”
His words stilled me, but he was so sincere he didn’t notice when he took my panties in both hands and pulled them down my body. My heart picked up where my quiet mind left off, pounding away louder than it had in months.
If he noticed my shock, it didn’t stop him from climbing on top of me and capturing me in his arms. So close, his blue eyes blinded me but I couldn’t stop staring into them. Like staring into the sun.
“I was a little rough last night,” he murmured. “Tell me if you don’t like it.”
“I liked it,” I whispered back and he sank his face into the crook of my neck. I felt his erection settle across my pubic bone, then shift across my thigh as he searched for my entrance. I raised my hips and he reached between us to guide it to its target.
He strained against my body, his mouth brushed my throat. “Tell me what you want, Cassidy.”
All over I trembled, and didn’t stop even as I clung desperately to him.
“More,” I swallowed. “I want more.”
And then he gave me everything. He sank into me, pulled out an inch, then pushed deeper still until I was gasping and arching my hips into him. He seemed to love my reaction, pawing at my writhing hips, trying to capture my throat with his mouth. We fought like this while I got used to his size, nothing more than a noises of hunger escaping either of us for minutes.
“This won’t do,” he murmured. I came out of my dreamy haze long enough to wonder what that meant, but all at once he slid out of me, hooked my hip and flipped me over onto my stomach in one swift motion. He kept hold of me around the waist and hauled me up onto my knees. I clawed into the bedding, a thrill of excitement fluttering up from my damp sex into my throat. I’d never been taken like this before and it felt so incredibly suggestive. Like a dirty secret. Not seeing what he was doing added a new layer of insatiable intensity.
Jason slid himself back inside me, easier this time now that I was sopping and open for him. Angled downward it felt like he was able to slide deeper inside of me than he had before, until I felt his heavy balls slap against my swollen lips and I knew he was rooted completely inside of me like this and I’d never felt so full. So craved.
“Mmm, better. So tight.” His voice was so soft I didn’t think the words were meant for me, or that he knew that he was saying them. I buried my face into his sheets, clutched them in my fists and let myself be as noisy as he made me. He panted, strained to work himself out and back in.
He quickened his pace, leveraged himself
with my hips until his rhythm was quick and sharp, slaps of skin against skin almost as noisy as our panting and breathy moans. He liked my name in his mouth when he got particularly deep, and he seemed to like how I sprang and jumped when he pounded me particularly hard. My lips spread for him, swollen with the friction of his constant thrusting. I shook possessed when he spread his hands around to my stomach and down to cup my mound in his hand. He snaked his fingers into my soppy, puffy lips and when he found the engorged pearl of flesh it was like he’d plugged me into a wall outlet and turned me on.
I exploded, threw my head back and rose onto my hands and knees. He growled, pleased, and worked the nub hard between two fingers, rolling and tugging and pushing, each stroke making me buck against him, fucking him instead of the other way around. He must have drove him crazy by the way he grunted, groaned, swore. He made me feel like a wild animal trying to break out of its cage. He laid his bare chest down across my back, strung his thick arm around my neck, the other buried between my legs. He barely pulled out of me anymore, caught in the lock we made of our slick, sweaty bodies. He pressed his mouth against my ear so I could hear every gasp and pant, moan and growl while he fingered me into oblivion.
“That’s it, Cass, come for me. Come screaming my name.” He nuzzled his nose into my hair and nipped at the back of my ear. “I want to hear you.”
“Jason, it’s too much, too oh…oh…Oh!” Two hard flicks and he got his wish.
I threw my head back against his shoulder came screaming his name, which lost coherency quick. The explosion of light and stars blinded me, sent my pussy into convulsions around his thick member.
I jerked, spasmed, lost all strength and collapsed forward into the sheets beneath his weight. He kissed the side of my face, layered kisses across my shoulders and spine before he released my clit, straightened, tightened his hold on my hips and began pounding me again. This time harder, thrusting to his own needs and I lay there shaking, wells of pleasure spiking at random intervals.
It felt like my orgasm went on for hours, at least as long as it took for him to build up his own release. He palmed my backside, stroked his whole, spread hand across each globed cheek. All at once he shouted, threw himself into me, grappled me around the waist and buried himself to the root and came. He came and came and came, strong explosions that rocked him forward, expelled my name louder, loud, then soft as breath against my spine. Cass, Cass, Cassidy Blue. He shuddered long and hard until he stilled.
We lowered to the sheets, though he didn’t slide out of me. We spooned as he softened, his arms tight as vices around my body, his sweaty forehead resting against my sweaty shoulder.
We lost time. I knew by where the light shafts from between his curtains landed when I opened my eyes again. He was no longer inside of me but we were still tangled as we had been after he came. Jason’s breath came in steady, even sounds against my skin and for a moment I was inclined to stay that way. Forever, if necessary.
But my head and heart were too broken for this. Sex, sure, cuddling? Too much. I unknotted his arms as gently as possible and slid out of bed while trying not to wake him.
“Mmm. Cass?”
Failure.
I glanced in the mirror above his dresser and saw him fingering the sheets where my body had been a moment before. He looked handsome and rumpled.
I looked for my panties and bra. They were harder to find than they should have been considering how clean the room was.
“I have to go.”
“Is that so?” He didn’t sound surprised, but he did roll onto his back to stare at the ceiling.
“I’m not sure I should have come here.”
“Hmm.”
I ducked out of the room to locate my clothes in the living room before tip-toeing back to his bedroom. He’d gotten so far as to put his boxers on and sat on the edge of his bed, thoughts hidden from me as he stared at the floor between his feet, elbows on his knees, fingers knotted.
“I mean, it was amazing. Mind blowing.” I struggled with this part. I’d left awkward one night stands before, but this was one thing practice didn’t make easier.
“Mind blowing?” His shadowed thoughts gave way to amusement and I caught him watching me struggle into my jeans. “Well, then.”
“It’s just,” I finally got the damn things over my hips and stopped to stare at myself in the mirror, half-clothed, flush with the glow of post-orgasm bliss. I looked ashamed even though there was nothing to be ashamed of. “I liked it. A lot. You make my head go quiet and I can’t tell you how badly I need that stillness right now.”
“But?” He wasn’t stupid. I buttoned my jeans and leaned against his dresser while I tried to order my thoughts.
“You have a reputation.”
At this, he scowled. “My only reputation is as the guy who hasn’t lived here for six years.”
“Ok, fair enough. You had a reputation. And you don’t live here anymore. So it seems smart to…you know…keep this as just sex. You know, without cuddling afterwards.”
“Cuddling.”
“Or sleeping.”
“Really.”
“Or eating. Or talking. You know, all the things that aren’t sex.”
“That seems very sensible. I’ve known girls who think they want just sex, but it never works out that way in the end.”
“Yeah, well, most girls haven’t had their hearts completely hollowed out by everyone in their life they trusted. So I think you can trust that all I want from you is sex. I mean it. Nothing else.”
Jason thought about this and after a moment he pointed at the space between his spread knees. “Come here, Cassidy.”
I tilted my head towards him, then pushed off the dresser and made my way over until I fit neatly between his knees. His hands went to my jeans and started unbuttoning them again.
“Tell me, does showering count in your list of things we can’t do together?”
He looked up at me with those baby blues of his and my stomach did a little flip.
“I think I’m open to negotiations.”
“Good,” he said as he lowered my zipper. “We can discuss the finer points of our arrangement once I have you on your knees again.”
“Yes, sir.” I exhaled as the butterflies released their mad flight into my heart. He leaned forward and kissed the warm skin next to my belly button. I touched his sweaty hair as he began tracing kisses across my stomach and for the first time it didn’t even occur to me to worry about my body. It didn’t occur to me to worry about anything.
8
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Since I was a little girl, my parents’ home has smelled like new carpeting and furniture polish despite having had the same shagless shag carpet since the 70s.
The kitchen always felt too small, a cramped little L shape around a table too big for its corner. Coupons took up half the table while my mother and her wedding picture books took up the rest. Hens and apples decorated every flat surface. Unlike my grandma’s farmhouse, everything in the little Bungalow was designed to close in around the family, creating a suffocating sense of belonging. The only evidence that my parents lived in the digital age was a commercial grade cappuccino machine shoved between the toaster oven and waffle press and the high-tech sonar scanners hung up with the fishing poles next to the hats and coats by the door.
I pressed myself into the tiny kitchen window to get a look at the bright outside. Honey bees went about their lives swarming their hives, the fruits of their labor melting at the bottom of my tea cup. I could see into the McCormick’s kitchen window, which freaked me out a little. I could make out the shape of the King’s place from my kitchen window only if I squinted.
The little introvert in me wanted to scamper back to the farmhouse post haste.
“The dress is gorgeous. Isn’t it gorgeous? She’s going to look like a princess.” My mother sighed, her face propped in one hand. I glanced towards the yards of plastic hiding the wedding dress hung up on the coat rack. We pi
cked it up from an Omaha dressmaker that morning and I was already tired of the dusty smell of dry cleaned silk and lace.
“So you’ve been saying all morning.”
“It’s just so romantic.”
I snorted into my tea cup. “I guess if a cheating fiancé does it for you, then sure. Like Prince Charming.”
“Cassidy.”
“Mom.”
She sighed. “Please don’t start.”
I threw her a look that couldn’t possibly emote how deeply that one hurt. “Mom. Six months ago you and I were talking about dresses and flowers and now you’re using the same wedding books you and I created for my sister and my ex-fiancé. Why does everyone expect me to forget that part?”
“This is about Bailey and Jonathan now, not you. I know you’re hurt, but you need to start dealing with that fact this wedding is going to happen.”
“She’s been with him for six months. I was with him for two years. Tell me how exactly I’m supposed to deal with this and I’ll do it. It’s like an episode of the Twilight Zone that won’t quit.” I squeezed my mug so tight I thought I’d crack the porcelain. I set it down hard on the countertop and turned my back on my mom so she couldn’t see me shaking. My thoughts raced to the loft apartment and the bed and the man who gave me a way to shut it out. A week with him and we hadn’t had a night alone yet, but that didn’t help me deal with the reality of the wedding right now. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do but I know what they did was wrong. I know that one thing.”
“Oh, Cassidy. I love you. You’re my heart. And I want you to be happy, baby, but what do you want me to do? Do you want me to shun Bailey and pretend like this wedding isn’t happening?” She sighed. “Because I can’t do that. I can’t choose between my only daughters. If I am not a part of this then I’ll miss out on a once in a life time experience. I’ve been waiting for this your whole lives. How many times do we have to talk about this before you’re satisfied?”