Finding Love's Wings

by Derrick, Zoey

  "Hi, beautiful," I breathe.

  "Hi beautiful yourself," she whispers as she begins to gently rub her nose against mine. I match her movements.

  "I love Eskimo kisses." I smile and kiss her gently but swiftly, trying hard to behave myself.

  "Have you seen the view from the edge?" I ask. She shakes her head and I wade over to the pool’s edge. The view is fantastic from up here, made that much better now that I have Cami to look at as well. It's very close to – if not after – noon, and the sun is high in the sky. The ocean is electric blue and crystal clear. You can see the outlines of the reef that surround most of the island.

  "It's beautiful," she breathes.

  "I've made arrangements to have dinner downstairs tonight, if that's okay with you?"

  "It's fine with me," Cami says. "Though I was kind of hoping to stay in tonight."

  "I am never opposed to staying in. However, I wanted to take you downstairs tonight because after tomorrow I plan to stay hidden from view. The less chance of people seeing me here means the more likely I'm going to be able to stay out of the public eye." I look into her eyes. "All I want is to keep this as private as possible – for you, for me, and for all of our friends who will be here on Wednesday."

  Her response is a look of pure adoration. The small, quiet "thank you" that follows is completely unnecessary; it's all there in her face.

  "My world outside of this hotel is a madhouse, Cami. I will do whatever I can to protect you from that scrutiny." I speak softly and she nods.

  "I'm willing to take the chance, Tristan. I am not made of glass."

  "I know, Sweets, but I will not have them attempting to drag your good name through the mud." I smile at her, though in my chest I feel a fierce protectiveness.

  "And for that I respect and commend you," she whispers as she starts to kiss me. This kiss is different: deeper, sensual, and so full of desire that I instantly become hard as a rock.

  Cami senses my desire, and I feel her tongue on my lips, seeking, wanting entrance. Mmm, it feels good, but not ye—

  Just then she flicks her hips at me and I moan as her sex grinds against my now throbbing erection, and her tongue is on mine. My head is swimming and I'm lost to her touch. Every inch of skin connected with hers is on fire, sending shivers through my body.

  I slowly slide my hands up her back, careful not to catch her corset, until I find the back of her bikini top. Sliding my fingers along the string, I find the knot, and I hear her gasp.

  Her hands fist into my hair, tugging hard, and I feel her pull her body up higher on mine, pushing her breasts closer to my mouth. An invitation?

  I tug on the end of one of the strings and it comes undone. The water quickly pushes her top up and off. I feel one of her hands release my hair as I start seeking the strings that create the top of her halter. She beats me there, quickly pulling, and in an instant, her breasts are bare and pressed against my chest. Her barbells are cold, and my own nipples harden and my cock twitches.

  I pull back to take in the sight of her, sucking a sharp deep breath between my teeth. "Jesus," I growl, and she pulls herself up higher and it’s right there: a glorious, rose-colored nipple. I can't resist; I flick my tongue across it.

  "Ah!" she moans. The sound is so hot with desire that my dick lets loose a gob of sticky pre-cum into my shorts. I lick again, this time pulling her nipple into my mouth, and she writhes against me. "Don't...ah...don't stop," she breathes, hot, heavy, and needy.

  I pull my lips away from her nipple and lick again, kissing my way up from the swell of her breast to running kisses along the hollow of her throat, her jaw – I nip it with my teeth and she groans. Finding her lips again, I pull her tighter against me, pressing her breasts against my chest.

  I kiss her, breathless and wanting. "Not—" I say, still kissing her. "Here." I kiss her again. "Not now."

  She catches my meaning and ever so slightly backs off the ferocity of her kiss, but she doesn't stop. It sends a shudder through me to realize that it won't last too much longer. I can't keep holding back. But not in the pool.

  Sometime later that evening Cami and I manage to untangle ourselves from one another and head downstairs for dinner. Cami looks stunning in her mini skirt and backless top. It doesn't seem to matter what this woman wears, she always wears it with pride and looks stunning.

  During dinner we talk about music, and I'm surprised to find that we like a lot of the same artists. She asks me to tell her something that she can't find out about me on the Internet, and when I tell her I'm a huge football fan, it turns out we're both Baltimore Ravens fans and absolutely hate the Steelers. We both decide that we should try and get to a Steelers versus Ravens game this fall. The idea of fall plans excites me more than anything. It makes me hopeful that she really wants this to continue after our vacation together.

  Emboldened by this, I ask her about coming to New York.

  She takes a sip of her Cosmo, compliments of Jessie just a few moments ago. "Why do you want me in New York?" she asks.

  Because I'm pretty sure that I will be an anger ball without you there, I think. Out loud I say, "Well, most of all, I want you there because something about being with you calms me. I don't feel anxious about anything, and I find it truly difficult to be nervous around you."

  "I have a hard time picturing you as nervous." She smiles reassuringly.

  "Well, I am not usually the nervous type. But I'm not a fan of crowds, and these premieres bring them out in droves." I sigh. "The girls get crazy, and all the screaming and hollering just gets overwhelming."

  "I can understand how that would bother you. The idea of it scares the hell out of me. I've been to a couple of premieres before, but never via the red carpet. Bobbie used to walk the carpet all the time, but mostly after Mom passed and usually on the arm of some woman he was dating. If I was invited, I was brought in the back doors."

  "You know, it's interesting. Bobbie did a lot to try and keep girls and people at bay unless he thought they were of some benefit to me. Directors, producers, casting directors, and the like. He had a way of instilling fear into me in regards to people outside of Hollywood. Girls and women in particular. He said that all they were ever after was my character and money, not me and who I am. It didn't take long for me to realize that he was right. It started after the first movie came out." I roll my eyes. "At first it bothered me, but then it became second nature. People loved me for the role I played and not really who I was."

  "The only reason I knew who you were was because of the supermarket tabloids and the pictures that they would print of you. It was strange the way that those images made me feel. And then my reaction to the headlines. I'd get really worked up over some of the nastier ones." She takes a sip of her Cosmo and clears her throat. "I knew that none of them were true. Or at least they were getting twisted to the point of out of control."

  "Why would you get upset?"

  "Because they were running a perfectly good person through the ringer for no good reason other than to sell magazines!"

  I can't help but laugh. She's the anger ball here. But it warms my heart. Something she said about getting angry sends a thrill through me, knowing that before she even met me four days ago, she was defending me.

  "That is about the reality of it,” I say. “Some stories had some true undertones. But the majority of them were blown way out of proportion."

  "Do you really need me there in N.Y.C. with you next week?" She says as she sets down her silverware and looking at me.

  The abrupt change of subject surprises me, but I don't hesitate. "Absolutely."

  "All right, I will come with you to New York. I will coordinate with Trinity to see what I can do besides be your arm candy."

  "Cami, you will never be arm candy." My tone is sharp.

  She looks at me, wide-eyed at my reaction. The thought of her thinking of herself like that makes me ill. It is in this moment that I begin to realize that there is going to be so much more between C
ami and me than there ever was with Layla. My eyes sting slightly, looking at her is like looking at an angel and I quickly realize that she is exactly the person I need beside me. Guiding me wherever I go. My desire for her spikes anew.

  "Would you like to take a walk on the beach?" I ask, hoping that a change of scenery will help cool my desire a bit.

  She smiles. "Absolutely," she says, and drains her glass.

  Standing, I reach for her hand and she takes it. I can’t help drinking in the sight of her as she stands. I take in her shoes, then her shins, her knees, her skirt. Then my eyes slowly wander up past her stomach and breasts, shoulders, neck, jaw, then, looking straight into her eyes.

  As we walk through the doors onto the deck, I quickly realize the mistake of being on the beach. It's deserted.

  PART TWENTY-TWO

  *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  We walk along the surf until we reach the opposite end of the island from the hotel. While the hotel is visible behind us, it's peaceful and quiet over here. The moon is high and bright, lighting up the beach, which is mostly deserted; there are just a few couples milling about. Most of them are heading away from us, back toward the hotel.

  It's getting to the point of no return, desire turning to need. I'm so afraid that I will end up hurting myself emotionally, that I’ll end up trying to be with a man even if the feelings are not reciprocated. But something about his reaction regarding the arm candy comment tells me that we are both in similar places emotionally, and about this I'm overjoyed.

  Both of us are quiet now, thinking. I want to ask Tristan what's on his mind, but I think it's better if I just leave him to his thoughts. I don't want to pry, and when he's ready to talk to me he will. I have no doubt.

  Suddenly Tristan comes to a stop, tugging on our linked hands, pulling me into him. Then he releases my hand and reaches up to grab my arms. Tightening his grip, he pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me so tight he's nearly crushing me. But I don't mind. I like being this close to him. My ear is pressed against his chest. I can feel his heart pounding out a rhythm, faster than I would have thought just from walking. My own heart is starting to push the blood behind my ears so fast it's starting to match the pace of his.

  Gently he places one hand at about the middle of my back and the other cups my face. His thumb starts to gently stroke my cheek.

  I feel his erection against my stomach. My sex heats from deep, deep down, heating my blood as it spreads throughout my body. I feel like I'm going to burst into flames.

  I look up and our eyes meet. His beautiful, warm blue eyes. "Kiss me, Tristan," I whisper, and even I can hear the lust in my voice, but that doesn't stop him. He leans down. Slowly, painfully slow. His lips inching ever nearer mine. It's like a tease.

  Stepping back slightly, I bring the length of my body into full contact with his. My back is arched, my breasts pressed into his chest. I hear his sharp intake of breath as he registers that his erection is pushing at my skirt, begging entrance into its warm sanctuary.

  A mere hairsbreadth away from my lips, he stops.

  "I have an idea," he says.

  He moves his right hand from my face down to my chin, my neck, my shoulder, down my back, until it finds that sensitive spot where my butt meets my thighs. It tickles, and I squirm. He lets out a breathy chuckle and begins moving his fingers, forcing me to squirm some more, and I start to giggle.

  "I love that sound," he says, though I can barely hear him over my fit of laughter.

  Then, out of nowhere, he grabs my butt with both hands and pushes up. I squeal.

  "Wrap your arms around me, beautiful, and hang on."

  Blushing again, I do as I'm told, but before I have a firm grip on him, he picks me up off the ground. For a moment, terror grips my body, and I tighten my grip reflexively. Then I realize what he's done and start to giggle again.

  "What are you doing?" I'm smiling so hard my cheeks are starting to burn.

  "Kissing you," he says.

  My fingers grip his hair, and I pull his lips to mine with a crushing force. His lips meet mine in blinding passion. They are soft, warm, and sensual against my own, and we quickly find a rhythm. Conscious thought eludes me as my head begins to swim. My heart is racing. My breathing becomes ragged. His own breathing mirrors mine, but he doesn't pull back, and I pull him tighter to me.

  His tongue caresses my lips, seeking the perfect opportunity to enter my mouth. I feel his teeth graze my upper lip, then the lower, trying to tug. It feels so good I don't want to let him in. He grunts in frustration. It has to be one of the cutest sounds I've ever heard, and I smile. He senses he's winning, so he grabs my ass cheeks, squeezing hard. I gasp, and he steals the opportunity. With my distraction comes his warm, wet tongue, stroking against my own. I feel like I can't breathe. His kissing slows, and I notice that he, like me, is gasping for air. I feel him start to sway and his grip tighten. He slowly lowers himself to a sitting position in the sand, taking me with him.

  During our decent, our tongues never stop. I feel him lift me slightly as he sits, and as he brings me back down, I quickly realize why: his cock is rock hard against my labia. It's the perfect spot. The slightest friction against his erection and I'm going to be a quivering mess. I giggle again because I can tell that he is smiling through our kisses. I flick my hips ever so slightly, grinding my clit against his erection. A moan escapes his lips. The sound heats my core, and in an instant my sex is absolutely soaked. I grind again. This time I moan. I feel his cock twitch between us. Slowly I pull my mouth away from his, disengaging our lips and tongues by degrees.

  Starting at his chin, I kiss and nibble my way along his jawline to his ear. He groans again and falls back into the sand, bringing me on top of him. He releases his hold on my butt and gradually drags his hands to my hips. He tugs at my hips so that my clit rubs against his cock again.

  "Keep that up, Tristan," I whisper in his ear, "and you're going to make me come."

  He smiles and does it again, this time pressing me onto his erection just a little bit harder. He pulls and pushes, pulls and pushes, and I let out a whimpered moan against his neck. His moan in response is enough to set off the tightening of my sex. The contraction of the orgasm has me stiff and whimpering against his neck. I bite my lip to try and stop it from consuming me.

  "Let me hear you, Cami. Let me hear you come." His words have my orgasm at its peak. My eyes close and he pulls my sex against his and the bright white flashes of pure pleasure are visible behind my eyelids. Days of torture and I come unglued with friction. I release my lip and moan unabashedly against his neck. I'm panting, desperate for the air my lungs seem to be lacking.

  I lie across his chest, and my breathing slowly returns to normal after a few minutes of heavy breathing. Tristan seems content to let me recover, and my heart warms at the subtle consideration for me.

  I feel his hands release my hips and start stroking along my outer thighs until he feels my skirt end, a touch of skin, and the top of my thigh high stockings.

  "You're wearing stockings!" he growls.

  I smile and whisper in his ear, "A garter, too."

  "Jesus fuck, you're trying to kill me here, aren't you?"

  He pulls the hem of my skirt up, exposing my ass, and I laugh again. "I'm wearing a thong too, you know," I whisper wickedly.

  "Fuck me! You are going to kill me."

  "I don't see what's stopping you."

  He hesitates just long enough that I finally look at him. His eyes are closed, his face turned up toward the stars. Still he says nothing and doesn't move.

  All my years of insecurities wash over me. Something has stopped him and I have no idea what it is. I start to sit up, but then his hands are on my back, holding me in place.

  "Please don't move."

  "What's wrong, Tristan?" I say quietly, trying hard not to let the flood of emotion crush me. I don't fool him. His eyes fly open and he looks straight into mine.

  "I'm scared, C
ami." He's whispering so low that I can barely hear him.

  What in the world is he scared of? I look at him with a puzzled expression.

  "For two reasons," he says. "One, I was with the same woman for five years and I want you so much more than I ever thought possible, it scares me." He pauses briefly, then goes on. "And reason two, it's silly, but I'm afraid of hurting you."

  Still puzzled. Okay, granted, the same woman thing, I get that. There's nothing wrong with being apprehensive about your first time with someone. I have my own apprehensions. But is he trying to say I move too fast? That I pushed him into something he's not comfortable with?

  "I was just going with the flow, Tristan. I...I'm sorry if I did something to—"

  He cuts me off, "You did nothing wrong, Cami. I want you. Believe me, I want you more than anything."

  I'm really trying to trust him, but I have never actually been denied before, and this feels a lot like rejection. Trying to change the subject, I go with the easiest question I can think of. "Why do you think you will hurt me?"

  He smiles at me and lets out a breathy laugh. "Give me your hand and slide back just a bit."

  I do as I'm told and he takes my hand, turns it palm down, and brings it down on his erection. He starts at the junction of my sex and his, because a good portion is still underneath of me. His finger, seemingly accidentally, strokes my clit through my thong. I moan at the contact and he smiles again.

  "Hmm, this could be fun," he says.

  I'm completely lost in the sensation that begins to radiate throughout my body. My clit is still swollen and excited from only a few minutes ago. The contact instantly has me warmed right back up. But instead of continuing, he ignores my clit and begins to slide my hand up the length of his huge cock.

  "I can do that," I whisper, and he releases my hand.