The Never List

by DL White

  Trey sat up, grabbing at his crotch to rearrange himself. I hopped up, headed straight for my bag, the same Louis Vuitton that he'd saved from a certain fate, and dug through the side pocket. I pulled out the list. I normally kept the very bottom two obscured, but this time I unfolded it all the way.

  I sat down on the couch next to him and handed him the scrap of paper, worn thin by now.

  He glanced at me, eyebrows raised. "The whole list?"

  "The whole list."

  "Wow, ok. Let's see what you've got here. Take a flight. Whew, girl." He shook his head. "But after the Ferris wheel, you're ready." He read on. "Go sailing. Cool. Swim in the ocean-we can do those together. Pet a cow?"

  He glanced at me. "Really? A big, stinky cow, but you won't eat sushi?"

  "I don't have to eat a raw cow."

  I shrugged. Then swallowed hard. My heart pounded, knowing he was getting to the few blank lines, and then the two at the bottom of the page.

  Have sex.

  Fall in love.

  "Uh…" He stared at the page, then dipped his head, blinked a few times. Then his head rose, but he didn't look at me. He stared into the open air of the living room, head tilted to the side for longer than I felt comfortable.

  "Trey." I gripped his hand. He didn't grip me back. "Please… please don't be mad."

  Finally, he turned to me, his eyes wide, mouth hanging open, brows riding high on his forehead. "You've really never had sex? Is this a joke? Are you punking me right now?"

  "Not a joke. I've really never had sex. Well, intercourse."

  "Uhm…" I watched his Adam's apple bob a few times as he swallowed.

  "Trey, talk to me. Are you mad? Do you… feel like I lied to you?"

  "Uh, surprised," he answered. "That's a better word. Surprised. We just never talked about… I mean, you don't seem like…."

  "Like a virgin?" I smiled, almost laughing. "How does a virgin seem? Prim and proper? Scared of men? Doesn't know what an orgasm feels like? I don't seem virginal because I sucked your dick, and let you eat my pussy, and definitely had an orgasm on Cobb Parkway, and my vibrator knows your name?"

  Trey's mouth hung open. Then, I swear I saw that man blush. "Yeah. A lot of that, I guess."

  "I've done most everything but engaged in intercourse with a human male. And I want to. Tonight."

  "With… me."

  "With you."

  Trey exhaled, loud and long, then settled himself back against the couch. Repeatedly, he swiped his hand across his mouth and then weaved his fingers through his beard. Slowly, his head began to wag back and forth.

  "This… Esme, this changes everything."

  I was genuinely shocked, and more than a little disappointed. So I hadn't let myriad men take something that meant a great deal to me… why would that change anything? We were going to have sex anyway, right?

  Maybe I should have never told him.

  "How? Trey, your dick tells me that you want me. My pussy is screaming loud and clear. I'm thirty-nine. I'm mature, and I'm ready. Don't pretend you care about virtue. You don't give a shit about that when I have your dick in my mouth. The only reason we've waited was because of the contract, and…" I pursed my lips, tossing up my hands. "It doesn't matter anymore."

  "Es, I'm not saying—"

  "Look, I'm not going to beg you to fuck me, ok? But I'm not a starry-eyed co-ed. I'm not an inexperienced woman who doesn't know her body, doesn't know how to ask to be pleased. I'm pretty sure you come every time, so I know a little bit about pleasing men. I'm not going to lay there like a dead fish while you do all of the work, and if that's what you think it'll be like, think about all the times we've already been together, and you had no idea—"

  "Esme! Damn!" He laid a heavy hand on my thigh and squeezed me, laughing softly. "Can I get a word in here?"

  I understood that Trey had to yell to interrupt my stream of consciousness rant. But he didn't have to laugh.

  "I'd planned on… well, I brought condoms because I figured you wanted to get down tonight."

  "You figured right. I thought you would, too."

  "I do. I just don't want our first time to be some random Tuesday in September."

  "You—" I blinked, running that back. "You what?"

  The shy smile on his lips was adorable. He set the list down on the table. "Baby, I'm just thinking something different. I want our first time to be special if this is the situation."

  "You don't have to pretend that you don’t want to stumble through a first time experience. If you don't want to have sex with me now, it's fine to say it. It's not my first time hearing it."

  “Let's phrase that differently. Do I want to tear off that dress and fuck you into a stupor? Immediately. I want you. Today, tomorrow, early and often. Yes, I still want to have sex with you.”

  "Ok! We agree on something. Let's do it!"

  His eyes found mine and held that smoky, intimate gaze for a long beat. "Do you trust me?"

  "Fuuuuuck." I groaned, throwing myself back onto the couch. "Now we have to have sex in a gondola on a roof or something. What?"

  Trey climbed on top of me, lowering his body to mine. "Go away with me. Let's get out of here, take a long weekend somewhere."

  I lifted my head, frowning in confusion. "Go away?"

  "You heard what I said, woman. We'll cross off some items on your Never list. Fuck it, let's cross off all of them."

  "Well…" I blushed. "Maybe not all of them."

  "Oh, no." He nodded his head. "All of them. Cause if I don't make you fall in love with me, I don't know what I'm gonna do, Esme Whitaker. I'm into you. Figuratively. And if you let me play it right—"

  "Lord."

  "Come on, you know what's coming…"

  We finished his sentence together. "Literally."

  My laughter bubbled from me like a spring. I drew my arms around his neck and asked, "When are we taking this trip?"

  "This weekend, if you can swing it. I've got to get out of Atlanta. Clear my head. Make some plans. Give Pops and Vincent some space to work out this agreement. It's a perfect opportunity to take my girl away and show her a real good time."

  "Well. I am jobless with purple hair. I'd love to go wherever it is you're going. But…" I poked out my bottom lip, hoping I looked extra pitiful. "We're seriously not having sex tonight?''

  "Don't worry this pretty mouth about that," he told me, brushing his lips across mine. "We're going to have a real good time tonight too."

  "I think I can get with that." I pulled him to me, squeezing him in a hug. He burrowed into me, burying his face in the swell of my breasts. "So... I'm your girl?"

  "Yeah," he answered, his words muffled. "You've been my girl, in my head. Have I been your guy in your head?"

  "Yeah." I nodded, thankful that Trey couldn't see my eyes filling with happy tears. I blinked them back, feeling symbolically official for the first time in… I couldn't even count the years.

  I tightened my grip around his shoulders and kissed his temple.

  "You're my guy, Trey."

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Trey

  * * *

  I fell asleep.

  Esme put on a romantic comedy about two couples falling in love against their friend's advice. Halfway through, the rough work week and lack of sleep, plus dinner, then brownies and ice cream for dessert took me out.

  When I woke up, the TV was off, the living room was dark, and I heard noises in the kitchen.

  I sat up, scrubbed my palms down my face, and followed the sounds. Esme was loading the dishwasher with her earbuds in. I walked past her phone, which was lit up on the counter. She was listening to The Janitor, the book that I had spoiled for her by revealing a major plot point.

  When Esme bent over to close the dishwasher door, I snuck up behind her and palmed a generous ass cheek.

  "Shit!" She screamed so loud the neighbors were probably dialing 911, slamming the door closed, and whipping around to face me. She ripped her earbuds
out, then came at me, both hands clenched into fists.

  "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I tried not to laugh while bobbing and weaving, steering clear of her fists.

  "Are you–" She punched me in the arm. Hard. "Are you laughing? Fuck you! You scared the shit out of me!"

  "Baby, I'm…" I sucked in a breath, then tried to stop laughing, but I couldn't. "I'm sorry," I gasped.

  "Ugh!" She flailed, her hair flopping around her. "I wish I knew karate. Or Ju-jitsu. Or… a fuck-you-up sport!"

  "Yeah?" I moved in, grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her to me. "I'm 6' 5", 220lbs. You're shorter and lighter. You think you can fuck me up? What… exactly do you think you could do to me?"

  She punched me in the arm again. "That!"

  "Stop hitting me, with your mean ass. That shit don't even hurt. You left me all alone in the living room." I pouted, stepping closer to her. "I was scared. I came to find you..."

  "Rubbing my ass while I'm listening to a thriller. Great idea, Trey. He just got to the part where he killed that woman in her kitchen."

  My brows shot up. "Oh, damn."

  "Oh, damn!" She glared up at me, her eyes extra wide. "So, you deserved those punches."

  "I really did. But now I'm sorry. Kiss me? Make it better?"

  "You walked up on a single woman at night and rubbed her ass. You kiss me."

  I laid a hand on her cheek, my fingers tucked into a wild mass of curls, and pulled her face to mine. I gave her a long, meandering, sensual kiss. By the time I pulled back, she was smiling. And so was I.

  I was also wide awake. And erect.

  "All better?"

  She nodded. "You're not leaving, are you?"

  "What do you think?" I answered, grinding myself into her.

  "Then let's take this upstairs."

  She turned out the lights, put her phone on the charging mat, and led me up the stairs. "That's O'Neal's room. He's never here," she muttered, passing a closed door. "O'Neal's bathroom," she said, passing another. At the end of the hall, she opened a door and stepped inside, flipping up the light switch as she did so.

  "This is my domain. Welcome."

  "I'm honored."

  Esme's bedroom was… very much Esme. Bold and bright, and catered to everything that amused and interested her. A cozy reading nook near a window, full bookcases, a flat-screen TV, king-sized bed, a mountain of pillows and walls the shade of a bright summer's day with large prints of aspirational sayings written in fancy calligraphy in silver frames. On two nightstands were stacks of books, phone and watch charger, and a few framed photos of people who looked exactly like her. The Whitaker genes were strong.

  "Yellow is a bold choice for walls." It was bright, but I was already getting used to it. Besides, if Esme was in a room, it didn't matter what color the walls were painted.

  "My mother loves yellow. I don't have the heart to paint over it."

  "Oh, that's right. You bought this place from your parents."

  "Yep. Keep it in the family."

  "And where are they?"

  "Palm Springs. Some retirement village for a few months. They'll be back here around Christmas."

  "What a great way to celebrate your freedom. Sleep in on Saturdays."

  "Come here, Trey."

  She sat on the bed, then patted the spot next to her. I sat, knowing a serious talk was coming. I'd had to process my surprise quickly and on the fly. Everything I thought I knew about her, everything I'd dreamt of doing with her, I sent through this new filter of information and… it was a lot.

  "Please tell me how you really feel right now. And I know it might not be complimentary."

  "What do you mean—"

  "Trey." She looked at me, her eyes pleading. "I'm a 39-year-old virgin that's been pretty forward with you. You have thoughts, I'm sure."

  "I mean… I'm confused. I don't get it, and I don’t mean your virginity. I mean that I don't get a man not doing what he needs to do to get close to you."

  I pushed out a breath, puffing my cheeks out while I laced my fingers together.

  "I don't understand why you've waited, and I don't have to. But you want to explore that now, and you made a choice to move forward. I guess I wonder, out of all of the men you've ever dated, why none of them ever made you want to take that step with them. Not one of them ever–"

  "Made me feel the way you do," she finished. "I consciously waited to meet a man that wanted to know me. You dragged that contract process out so ridiculously long so that you could get on my nerves all day. When you offered to help me with my list just to spend more time with me..."

  She licked her lips and shifted, turning toward me. "Maybe it was a game for both of us, but you made that game fun. You made me want you. You made me think about being with you in a way that I wasn't used to thinking about men. You made me feel like you want me. And that's all I've ever wanted."

  "So now I get to turn you all the way out."

  She blushed, looking off with a dreamy expression. Was she thinking about it? Because I was.

  "I want my first time to be fun. Not reverent. It's not a ceremony or a rite of passage; it's just some fun, but I want to be with someone that I can explore with and learn from without being shamed about what I don't know. I don't want to wake up the morning after with regret like I wasted the experience. When I read about first time sex, too many women regret not waiting. Too many women didn't even come. And I appreciate you wanting to take me away to make it special, but I don't need all that, Trey. All I need is you."

  I scooted back on the bed, angling my head for Esme to follow me. She crawled across the bed, stretching out next to me and reaching for the band of my sweats.

  "Why are your sweats blue, Trey?"

  "Huh?" I watched as her hand slid below the waistband, then felt her warm palm wrap around me, her fingers grip... and then squeeze. "What do you mean?"

  "Grey sweatpants are the thirst trap. You didn't know that?"

  "Uh. Yeah, I knew that. I was under the impression that I had already trapped you."

  "Oh, and you have. But I like looking at nice things."

  She stroked, her hands expertly squeezing, gripping, pulling. Then she slid closer, right up against me so the heft of her breasts rested on my arm. She leaned into drop feather-light kisses down my neck.

  "You're trying to tempt me into sex tonight, huh?"

  "Guilty." She grinned, pulling back. "I kind of love this role reversal. Is it working?"

  "Actually..." I laughed. "Yeah. It's not happening tonight, though, babe."

  She huffed, poking her bottom lip out. "I do not believe you're making me wait."

  "Too bad." I rolled to my side, slipping a hand between her thighs and working my way up. "I have plans for that ass. In the meantime..."

  I wiggled my brows at her and bit her pouty bottom lip, gazing down at her with what I hoped was more seductive than half asleep. "You won't be deprived. I think you should introduce me to this toy that knows my name."

  Minutes later, her deep brown skin was on full display, and my ears were full of Esme's moans and whimpers.

  I awoke to the sensation of a warm, wet mouth.

  It felt like a dream, but way more real. Real breasts pressed against my thighs, real breaths whispering against my skin, and real moans coming from beneath Esme's crisp sheets and thin summer comforter.

  I lifted those covers and got an eyeful of Esme with a puff of purple and pink hair tied into a ponytail at the top of her head and a scarf wrapped around the rest of her hair. She rolled her eyes up to mine, with the tip of me in her mouth.

  "That is a way to guarantee a good morning."

  "Mmmmm?"

  She sank down again, this time deeper, then slowly, slowly came up again, her lips applying just the right amount of pressure to make my eyes roll back in my head. Over and over and over again. I writhed, feeling it in my toes.

  My jaw dropped as I angled my head back to moan. "Fuck. Yes."

  I laid bac
k, spread eagle in the middle of her bed, against a pile of Tiffany blue pillows and cream and blue striped sheets. I would have never imagined myself right here, right now, when I met Esme.

  Dating was not ever easy for me. Despite being rather privileged, I didn't feel enough for a woman, not the kind of woman I craved. A man needed a lot of money to overcome an average appearance. And once I examined who I was vs. who I wanted to be, put myself through the wringer and came out on the other side a man that I was proud to be, my tastes and desires evolved too. I wanted more than a casual hookup or the occasional fling with pretty but vapid women hunting for muscular, wealthy, and cultured men; arm candy whose only job was to fund her lifestyle, fuck her, eat her pussy, and leave.

  I wanted more than that.

  Esme wasn't interested in me at first sight. Or second. Or third. She was aware of my Executive position at Pettigrew, saw the cut of my suits, my expensive watch, my silk ties, the brogues, the luxury SUV.

  She didn't give a shit about any of it.

  Making her mine became my life's work. No man had come before me, and that she wanted me — chose me to be the person to cross that line with her made me feel some kind of way, in the best way possible.

  I wanted to fall in love with Esme Whitaker the moment I met her. The morning head I was getting was making that happen in a hurry.

  "Baby…" I flipped the covers back, revealing Esme naked, with my dick in her mouth. "You're gonna make me come."

  She moaned something that sounded like "Mmmhmm" but didn't pull off. Instead, she sucked me in deeper, then used her nails to clutch my balls and squeeze.

  "Fffff….uck! Yeah, don't…don't stop, I'm coming!"

  I cocked my head back as my body convulsed, pumping into her mouth until I was spent. Then I relaxed, every muscle turning to Jell-O. I felt my dick slap against my thigh as Esme pulled off. The bed shifted, and I sensed her getting up. I found the strength to prop myself up on my elbows.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I'll be right there," she called from the bathroom. I heard the water running, then a buzzing sound I recognized as an electric toothbrush. I chuckled. She came out of the bathroom with a towel in hand.