Mai Tai for Two

by Delphine Dryden

Alan gripped her thighs, shifting under her, inside her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Oh, yes.”

  Slowly, they set a rhythm together, an almost cautious back-and-forth as if they were both afraid of scaring the awesome sex away if they made any sudden moves. A spark caught, took hold. Alan started to move more purposefully, bucking his hips to go deeper. After a moment he pulled her in and rolled them, settling his weight over her and thrusting hard, harder. Julie took the opportunity to explore, learning the shapes of his shoulders and back, the muscles and motion of his hips as he fucked her. Stronger than she’d expected, firm and powerful and perfect under her grasping hands.

  “You have a really nice ass.”

  “Um. Thanks. You have a really nice...everything.”

  He braced on one elbow, mapping her breast with his other hand as if he was memorizing it for a quiz later. When he tweaked her nipple, a shot of pleasure fired down to her pussy, taking her right up to the edge of another orgasm. Alan seemed close, too, his breath unsteady and his body trembling. And noises, he was making amazing noises as though he couldn’t help himself, and that in itself was another turn-on. Another piece of kindling for the fire, enough to light the whole thing in one hot rush. Julie came faster this time, in a sharp and sudden flare, keen and sweet. When she tightened around Alan’s cock, he gasped and bit his lip, his thrusts growing erratic. One more, then another, then a final deep push, and he came inside her, cursing in the best possible way.

  “Fuck.”

  The orgasm made her giddy, but the context made her shy now that the act was over. Nervous. Which was weird, but part of the whole hormonal stupidity, she figured. “Yep. Fuck. That’s what was going on there, all right.”

  He chuckled, then thrust again, quivering. Not quite over, after all. They had gone out of sync.

  When he was really done, she wrapped her legs over his back, reluctant to let him go. He kissed her, lingering. It was more affectionate than passionate, and tears pricked behind her eyes as she thought again how she’d miss it if they screwed this up. Too late to undo it now, though. They couldn’t go back to just holding hands.

  Chapter Six

  Fuck...

  Alan heard Julie sniffle, felt wetness when she pressed her face into his neck. He realized she was crying, but his brain wasn’t up to connecting the emotional dots yet. Probably because it was dribbling out his ears from the insane orgasm he’d just had.

  “Umm.” Are you okay? Was the sex okay? Was I okay? Are you crying because it was bad, or because it was me? Can I do anything, anything in the wide world, to make whatever it is better? Rob a bank, murder somebody, slay a dragon... “Umm. Wow.”

  “Yeah. Wow.”

  He eased onto his side, rolling Julie with him, suppressing the urge to curse when they uncoupled. She shifted her legs automatically, almost anticipating his movements, as if they’d done this a thousand times before. Alan wasn’t sure what to do with the wave of feelings, the overwhelming This, yes, this right here. He wanted to say something but held his tongue for fear of ruining it all. If he said the wrong thing he might find out she was no longer with him, and he wasn’t ready to face that horrifying prospect. And what were the odds he could find the right thing to say at a moment like this?

  If he asked about the sex, he might sound insecure, or as if he were fishing for compliments. So that was out. If he talked about the crying, that might make her tell him why she was crying. Definitely not a good option. And by opening his mouth at all, he risked blurting out any number of questions about their potential future, and that would probably be a very bad idea right now. He couldn’t exactly say it was too soon, given how long they’d known each other. But it would definitely be too sudden.

  Julie propped herself up on one elbow, brushing tears from her cheeks with the heel of her other hand. “Man. Hormones, am I right?”

  “They’re the mind’s way of fucking with itself,” he agreed. “There are tissues behind you, on the nightstand.”

  She leaned away to reach for a tissue, arching her back in a way that unintentionally showcased her breasts. Alan’s cock responded in the time-honored fashion, despite its recent workout. Something about the lines of her body, or maybe it was how comfortable she was being naked in front of him. He pressed his lips to the shoulder nearest him, pretending to ignore the nose-blowing business. She smelled of plumeria and bonfire. If he tried hard enough, he could convince himself he’d forget that smell in time. He’d forget the feel of her shoulder under his lips, the sweet firmness and plush give of her skin, and they could go back to being just friends again.

  “I keep feeling like I should apologize,” Julie mumbled as she grabbed a second tissue. “That would be dumb, though.”

  The urge to slay dragons to ease her pain, he could forget that, too. “Apologize for crying? That would be dumb. And you definitely don’t need to apologize for any of the other stuff that’s happened. Hey,” he ventured, taking a chance, “do I need to apologize for anything?”

  “What?” She rolled back toward him, hooking her leg over his hip once more. “You know you don’t. How would that apology even go? ‘Oh, sorry about the awesome consensual sex and the multiple orgasms. Oops, my bad.’”

  “I could always go with, ‘My penis has a mind of its own sometimes. I don’t even know what it’s thinking. Probably because it can’t talk. Because it’s a penis.’”

  Julie nodded, then looked down at the organ in question. “Poor communication skills in general. It can’t write, either.”

  In unison, they said, “No opposable thumbs.”

  “That would be pretty cool, if it did have thumbs,” she pointed out. “A multitude of uses.”

  “Yeah, except now I’m picturing it, and it’s kinda weirding me out.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Really?”

  “No, not at all,” she admitted, finally smiling, though she still wasn’t meeting his eyes. “Not even a little bit.”

  “Are we still talking about my dick?”

  “No. Well...” The smile turned to a cheeky grin. Julie slithered a hand down, circling his cock and hastening its return to an erect state. “Peripherally, I guess.”

  “Hey, it could probably type!” he mused aloud, as the thought came bubbling to the surface. “You know. Hunt and pecker.”

  “I’m never using any computer of yours, ever again, Alan.”

  “The monitors are safe enough. It’s the keyboards you have to worry about. Might want to steer clear of my iPad, too, while you’re... Oh, do that again.”

  “What’s the magic word?”

  “Harder.”

  She did something evil and wonderful with her fingers, banishing the remnants of awkwardness along with most of his already waning urge to get into a meaningful conversation about what had just happened. And was apparently about to happen again.

  But before he lost his mind entirely, he recalled the sniffling, and forced himself to pause. “Hey. Look at me.”

  “I am looking at you,” she whispered, tightening her sweetly wicked grip on the part she was looking at.

  “Jules.”

  He stroked her jawline, not forcing her to face him but suggesting it with the gentlest of pressure. Finally she gave up the fight, letting her gaze shift to meet his. They hadn’t turned the light on when they entered the room, but his eyes had adjusted to the gloom, and even in the scant moonlight he could see the raw surfaces she’d been hiding from him. All of it, in her beautiful dark eyes, hope and sadness and uncertainty and affection and resignation. Too much, and so much of it was difficult to look at. Alan couldn’t imagine how hard it was to feel all of that. Girls—how do they even work?

  “It’s okay,” he said, knowing it really might not be.

  “I know.” She lifted her hand to his face, echoing his caress. “Besides, what happens in Hawaii stays in Hawaii, right?”

  He couldn’t agree to that. But he was enough of a selfish horndog not to say so out loud
yet. Because she was already lowering her hand again, finding her place and tempo on his cock, and within seconds his conscience had evaporated. “We can talk about it over breakfast or something.”

  Her soft, sexy chuckle punched straight to his balls, almost as big a turn-on as the things she was doing with her clever digits. “Are you asking me how I like my eggs?”

  “Already know how you like your eggs. I’m saying I want you to stay all night. Oh God, don’t stop.”

  She didn’t stop.

  And she stayed all night.

  * * *

  Julie woke up, slightly disoriented and sore in puzzling places, to the tantalizing aromas of bacon, eggs and coffee. Her brain slowly dialed in on reality, first registering that she was in a hotel room, then remembering this was the Hawaii trip, and finally pinging on the most important element. Not her own hotel room.

  Alan. Sex. Tears. Sex. Spooning. Sleep. Sex again, sometime in the middle of the night. And after that, total oblivion until the smell of coffee had lured her into consciousness again. Julie wasn’t sure if it was the sex or the spooning that loomed largest in her mind as she sat up and scanned the room. Both were important memories, but for such different reasons.

  “Good morning.” Alan spoke softly, but she still jumped, turning toward him. He was sitting at the table in front of the room service tray, a cup of coffee in his hand. His hair and face were both still sleep-rumpled.

  “Oh. Hi. Good morning.”

  “Eggs are still warm. Sunny-side up, right?”

  He really had known. “Right. Thanks.” She started to get out of bed, then realized she was naked. Last night that hadn’t been a problem. This morning, the self-consciousness had kicked in with a vengeance. Possibly because Alan was already dressed, even if it was just in board shorts.

  When he pointed at the foot of the bed, Julie’s sleep-fogged brain took a few seconds to process that the swatch of white terrycloth there wasn’t a towel but a robe. Thick, luxurious and bearing the hotel’s logo. She pulled it on, letting the sheet fall as she belted the robe closed and stood up on slightly unsteady legs. Her inner thigh muscles reminded her of the previous night’s fun, as if she’d needed more reminding. Alan was reminder enough, sitting there with breakfast already ordered. Eggs the way she liked them, robe considerately laid out. Like he was auditioning for the part of “honeymoon husband.” Just add a tasteful ring, and follow up with two-point-five kids and a golden retriever in a three-bedroom ranch house near a good school. What the hell had she been thinking?

  “I didn’t even hear the room service guy,” she admitted, approaching the table slowly and taking the other chair. The eggs did look pretty good.

  “You were really out. I thought you’d sleep longer, actually. I guess the coffee smell woke you up.”

  “I should’ve set an alarm or something. I meant to text Amanda last night to check on her. She’ll probably be worried since I didn’t make it back to the room.”

  “You’re assuming she made it back. But it’s a little early to text her yet this morning. I took the liberty of putting your phone on the charger, by the way.”

  She turned to look at the clock on the nightstand. “Six-thirty? What the hell?”

  Alan laughed as he poured her some coffee, pushing the sugar and creamer her way along with the cup. “The kayak tour thing leaves at seven forty-five. I’d already made a reservation and when I called a few minutes ago they still had another spot, so... You wanted to go, right? And I figured it’s the one place we’re pretty much guaranteed not to see that Todd guy.”

  “Fair enough. And I did want to go. Jeez, though. So early.” And so couple-y. She dosed her coffee and tested the heat with a preparatory sip.

  “This way we have time to take a shower before we go.” He sat up, considering what he’d just said, his hands going into gestural overdrive as nerves kicked in. “I mean you do. And I do. Individually. We each have time to—Not that I’m not happy to shower with you, if you want.”

  “Alan, it’s okay.”

  “Last night was...yeah. But I wasn’t making any assumptions. And I’m not implying you need a shower or anything.”

  She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. Not only because of his adorable anxiety, but because she realized she’d been the one making assumptions. Alan wasn’t acting like they were a done deal, after all. He was just being thoughtful. She’d have to be an idiot not to see how awesome that was. “Alan.”

  “You smell great. And your hair, it’s amazing.”

  He kept a straight face for about three seconds, and by the time the snickers burst forth, everything was okay again. Julie wasn’t quite sure how that had happened, but it was all okay. Probably best not to examine it too closely. A vacation fling was supposed to be a break from thinking, right?

  She paused for one quick swig of coffee, then abandoned her chair to straddle Alan’s lap. “My hair probably looks like it’s about to devour Tokyo. And I don’t even want to talk about how anyone smells right now.”

  He shifted, making room for her knees, running his hands up her thighs and pushing the robe out of the way as he went. He looked intensely relieved. “I thought you were freaking out.”

  “I was.” Sighing, she settled in more firmly. “I’m over it now.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Let’s not overanalyze, okay?”

  “Right, right.” He was obviously already distracted, too busy feeling his way around under the robe to worry about freak-outs past. “We have to go on the kayak thing, because I told my mom I’d take pictures of the sea turtles for her. Well, I have to go at least.”

  “I’ll go, too. I like turtles. But I do need to swing by my room for a change of clothes. Some different shoes, too. Isn’t there hiking?”

  He nodded. “So probably...we should eat, and then take separate showers. Or we’ll never make it out of the room.”

  Chapter Seven

  It was the least shameful walk of shame ever. Nobody saw her, and it took Julie only a quick look around her room to realize Amanda hadn’t made it home the night before, either.

  She checked her phone for messages. None had popped up in the minute or so since she’d left Alan’s room. As she was shoving her phone back into her purse, however, it dinged.

  The message was from Alan, not Amanda.

  I miss you already. Shower fast.

  She smiled, then scolded herself for the giddiness that bubbled up inside her. It was a vacation affair. She needed to be sophisticated and blasé about it. Fingers hovering over the screen, she tried to compose a message that simultaneously conveyed sexiness and a lack of smothering emotion. Nothing sprang to mind, and when she felt herself beginning to worry too much about it, she put the phone down and backed away.

  She would think of something in the shower. Then she could tell Alan in person when she saw him. That made more sense.

  Fifteen minutes later, she emerged from the steamy bathroom to find Amanda staring at an open suitcase. Clothes were strewn around her bed, outfits laid out for consideration.

  “Oh! You’re back.”

  Amanda gave her a wave, not looking up. “Hey. Yeah, sorry I didn’t call and let you know where I was. It got late before I realized, and I thought you were probably asleep by then. I hope you didn’t worry.”

  “I figured you were with Jeremy.” Julie sat on the other bed, toweling her hair. Amanda didn’t realize she hadn’t come back last night, either. For a moment she contemplated coming clean, but something stayed her. She held the knowledge of her night with Alan close, somehow convinced if she didn’t share it with her friend, it didn’t have to be real yet. If it wasn’t real, she didn’t have to think about all the ramifications. “So...should I ask?”

  “No,” Amanda said immediately. “No. I don’t even know what’s going on right now. It’s too complicated.”

  “How did he even come to be here? I assume Alan was right, it wasn’t coincidence.”

  �
�My mother and his mother still email all the time.” Amanda rolled her eyes. “He said he tried to ignore his mom nagging him to do something, but eventually he couldn’t take it anymore, and he thought maybe she was right, anyway, and he should at least try, and... Well. You know. I’m incredibly annoyed at a certain level...but you know, there’s all this history, and—like, habits and stuff.”

  “Habits? You mean, you guys—”

  Wait, did she even want to know? Yep, let’s be honest, of course I want to know.

  “Well. Yeah. We did. I know, I know, it’s stupid.” Amanda shoved her suitcase aside and slumped on the end of her bed, pressing her forehead into her palms. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

  “No, honey.” Julie switched beds, plunking down next to Amanda and placing an arm around her shoulders. “He’s the idiot. Or he was a year ago. Is he still?”

  “I have no idea. But he said such great things, and it’s been such a long time. And did you see his ass? I couldn’t stop touching it.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “Jules, you’re not allowed to look at Jeremy’s ass,” Amanda mumbled.

  “I totally didn’t. No idea what you’re even talking about. Ass? What ass?”

  They giggled together, and a little of the tension eased from Amanda’s shoulders. She sighed, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “I told myself I wasn’t going to think about it this much. Treat it like a vacation fling, you know? Enjoy it for now, and decide what it all means when I get home. Jeremy said that was fine with him, he just wanted to spend time with me and reconnect.”

  “By which he meant—”

  “No, he was inclined to be all noble and proper about it because he said he didn’t want to use sex as a bargaining tool. I was the one who jumped his bones. Like I said...idiot. You can’t have a vacation fling with that much history. It’s always going to mean something.”

  Fuck.

  Julie gave her friend’s shoulder a final pat and stood up again, retrieving her towel and going back to work on her hair to hide her flash of panic. “Yeah, you’re right. Obviously. That would be nuts, to think it wouldn’t mean anything.”