by Eric Asher
The sky is a deep navy blue, with hints of purple gracing the horizon line where the sun fell. Stars are plentiful and bright, layering the atmosphere with a sense of timelessness. For a while we look for and find the constellations, with him telling tales of Cassiopeia and her King, Cepheus.
“How do you know so much about the stars?”
He shrugs. “My granddad. We’d spend hours looking at the night sky and he’d tell me all about them. He said everyone’s life was written in the stars—you just had to find your path and take it. Your dreams, whatever they are, whatever you’ve searched for, would meet you at the end.”
After a minute I ask, “Kyle?” His crooked smile fades when we connect. “Have you found what you’re looking for?”
He brushes his lips against mine, a light touch resonating throughout my entire body. “I’ve spent the first thirty-two years of my life focused on my career. Nothing mattered other than getting where I wanted to go. Now, I’m there. I didn’t realize how lonely it was until I saw you standing behind the bar, shaking your ass to the music and the blender. It hit me out of nowhere. I don’t want to walk through this life alone.”
Swallowing, I wait, unsure what to say. More than a little bit of fear creeps in. Fear of more than surface contact. Don’t change the stakes, Kyle.
“Was that too cheesy?”
“Nacho cheese,” I say as I pop up to straddle his waist. This is headed in the wrong direction, and I’m about to steer it back to basics. “Let me put it this way. I spent a long time running around what I thought would be the rest of my life. That didn’t work out as planned.” I drag my hands along the coiled muscles beneath me. “Love is fickle. You can have it one minute, and it’s gone forever in the next.”
He sits up. Grabbing my hands, they’re pinned behind my back and we’re left mouth to mouth. “You can only run for so long. Are you tired of running, Faith?”
We just stare and breathe and drink in the moment, until I have to ask again, “How do you know my name?”
His breath washes over me like a drug. I want him in me and I’m not sure what I’ll do when he’s gone.
The smirk is back, and something inside my chest tightens because I could get addicted to it. “Would you believe it was written in the stars? From wherever I was in the world, I’d look at the midnight sky and your name would call to me.”
When I shake my head, our lips touch.
“Is that so?” I ask, and gasp when he shifts under me so his dick rubs along the seam of my shorts, sending my clit into a hard throb. Talk about a pulse point. I rock on him so it happens again, and I groan.
“I’m done talking about Faith,” I say, because I am. I don’t want to think about the past or the future; my focus is on tonight. He loosens his hold on my hands and they land in his hair. “What is it you want from me?”
“I want to make you scream my name,” he says, and I feel him grow beneath me. That’s not going to be a problem.
I grind down and the throb takes on a life of its own. It’s been so long since a man has touched me; I’m not ashamed to ask for what I want. And I want it all. Soft and hard, slow and fast. “Make me come, Kyle.”
KYLE
“Tell me what you want.”
To my surprise she says, “Kiss me slow.”
And that’s it, the only thing I need to hear. Rolling so she’s beneath me, I grind my cock into her pussy and swallow my groan. She feels more than amazing. I get the idea she likes it, too, when her eyes flare and then narrow as lust blurs black into brown. The pulse in her neck fascinates me as it pounds with the fast rise and fall of her chest. She touches my cheek, feathering her fingers over my mouth. “I want this all over me.”
Our lips part in unison when I roll against her again. Like there’s too much to say, and not enough time to fit all of it in. So I start with, “Life’s full of stops and starts. We're about to start something between us—you with me?”
Drawing her bottom lip into her mouth, she sucks on it. Fuck, I need this girl. At this moment, I don’t care that I’m leaving in ten hours, or that I’ll probably never see her again, and if I did, I’d more than likely fuck up whatever was between us and she’d end up hating me. None of it matters because right now, with her under me, a flush crawling up her chest, I want her as I’ve never wanted any other woman before.
Finally nodding, her lip pops free and I’m on it. I want to devour, but I take small bites instead, slow and steady, alternating between her top and bottom, nip, suck, and pull. Moving into a slow glide of my mouth against hers, she opens for me in an invitation and I accept. This kiss is me challenging her to let me in, let me be with you and make you feel more in one night than you have in the last two years. When I pull back, her lips are swollen and her eyes are soft. My gut clenches and I kiss her again, long and hard.
We’re tangled up, tongues, hands, arms and legs. It’s almost too much; the urge to rip away the barriers and pound into her tight, willing body is overwhelming. I want to hear her scream my name, but I promised slow, and I don’t break my promises.
Everything about her, about this, is overwhelming. The low moans that I take in and reciprocate with my own, the sweet taste of her mouth, warm honeyed vanilla, and her body pressed into mine.
Concentrating on her hands, I follow them along my back, pulling up and then raking under my T-shirt. She digs into my obliques and holds on. Sweet Jesus, she hasn’t a clue what she does to me. Or maybe she does, and it’s a game—she’s toying with me until I break.
Game on. Deeper, my tongue slides into her mouth with the intent to devastate, crush and pummel her senses until she can only think of me. My mouth, my body, my everything, and anything she wants. I’ll give it to her.
I don’t let up, licking her lips and then diving deeper, moving to shallow rubs and light nips and back again. Her heart rate is high and it matches mine. I can feel it, her breath coming in panting waves, and the vibration of her moan. God, I’m harder than I’ve ever been. I want my cock inside of her more than life itself, but I keep going. This is for Faith. I want my name in her heart, living and breathing there with every breath she takes.
Her hips begin tiny fragmented movement to find friction. Fuck, if I can’t not touch her. I have too.
“Kyle,” she moans into my mouth, a sound so sweet it could only come from her.
“Faith?” I ask, wanting, no, needing to hear her beg for it.
It’s her turn to stare. Her glazed eyes roam every inch of my face and neck only to slide back up to my hair, which she grabs to hold me still. “Touch me,” she whispers, moving her hips into mine. “Please.”
“Where?”
“Here.” She moves her hips again and I smile before taking her mouth, slowly at first, then faster and deeper as my hand strokes over her chest. There’ll be time to play with her tits later; right now I’ve been given a directive, and I aim to please.
I watch her as my hand grazes against the outside of her thigh, following the ridge of her shorts to stroke the smooth skin below her pussy. It’s impossible to remain calm—it’s her fault, all her fucking fault. If she weren’t so amazing I could slow down, but I need to feel her wet and tight around me. Gripping her hip, I pull, grinding my dick into the tight press of her thighs and she groans. Music to my ears.
“Let me hear you.” I roll into her again and again until she’s panting and I’m afraid I’ll explode like a virgin on a first date.
“I want you to touch me,” she whispers, guiding my hand too exactly where she wants it and it’s my turn to groan. I love that she’s open and willing to ask for what she needs.
“Reading my mind,” I whisper, before kissing her. Holding back nothing, I punish her mouth. The kiss is hard and deep, while my hand works over the button and zipper of her shorts. Pulling away, I gaze into her dazed eyes and over her flushed face to her flat stomach.
We both watch my fingers slip down the front of her shorts and the flash of lace beneath them. He
r skin is silk, luxurious, and meant for the richest of men—meant for me. “Fuuuck, Faith.” I drop my head to her hair as my finger slides along the wet sheath of her lips. “God, you’re perfect.”
Faith
I’ve lost my mind. In a good, mind-numbing way. Kyle knows how to kiss until all thought is erased. I’m wild for him, unthinking I ask him to touch me, and I mean it. I would beg if he asked me to. When his hand reaches below my panties, reality suddenly returns. Damn it all, I’m on a beach with his hand in my pants, ready to give him anything he asks for. Tensing beneath him, my eyes round and I push against his shoulder.
“Relax,” he whispers in my ear. “You can let go with me. I’ll always catch you.” There’s a sexy sway to his voice, and then his fingers, two of them, slip into me and I’m lost.
“Fuck, Angel. You’re so wet and tight . . . I want my mouth on you.”
I hum, because I can’t speak. I’d let him do anything he wanted because he feels that good. Letting go to feeling, I take in everything: his body pressed against mine as I rock into his hand. He sinks deeper, cupping me so his palm rubs against my clit. “Oh,” I half-cry, half-moan. “Kyle.”
I search for his mouth, and it’s there just when I need it most. Covering my lips with his, he takes every panted breath and mumbled word into him. More, deeper, faster, harder, please and then repeated until I can’t breathe. My hands seek out his wrist, holding him, showing him the way, pulling him further into me, rubbing and plunging deeper, over and over.
“Yes, oh fuck, Faith. I want to see you come. I want to feel it.”
Our mouths hover together, barely touching as his words wash over me. Kyle, brand new, yet we fit so well, as if we’ve been molded together over time. There’s no shame in my actions—what he’s doing to me, with me. I’ve given myself, and this night to him freely, and I let him take me to a place I’ve never visited before. Not like this; never with this complete wild abandon. In a moment I’ve let go of fear and worry, thoughts of tomorrow fade to nothing. It’s just me and Kyle, and to hell with everything else.
We find the perfect rhythm. His fingers mimic the thrust of his hips, pumping and reaching deep. Curling forward, he finds that place, that beautiful-touch-me-there-again place. And he does. Over and over, hitting it and at the same time he sweeps the pad of this thumb against my clit. I can feel it start, a budding pressure spreading slowly and then with growing force. My orgasm builds, crowning into a breaking wave. Tightening, my legs draw up and lock as I rock back and forth, clenching around him.
“Oh. Oh, my God,” I cry. It’s intense, earth-moving intense, and I lose sight of everything while riding the peak, destroying it and coming back to reality on the broken crest. His hand gentles, massaging the remnants of my climax, and it feels amazing. Tipping my head into his neck, I breathe long drags of his rich, unique maleness—a little bit of sweat, the sun and just, him. Now he’s mixed with me, and sex. It’s erotic, and for only tonight, it’s mine.
Crap. Mine sounds so good, but so scary at the same time. The urge to run hums just under my skin. I'm good at it. It's what I do. Letting go with Kyle, letting him see me in such a needy, vulnerable way has my muscles itching to race for distance. I don't do intimacy because in my old life I latched on to it like a moth to a flame. I craved relationships. The thrill of falling in love, the security, and the connection were my high. But the last one destroyed my life. That's what blind faith will do. I believed in a beautiful perception and when his truth was unveiled, he stole everything. And not just from me.
Forcing myself to breathe and find a minute of peace, I hide the past and shy away from my nook to stare into Kyle’s clear eyes. They're filled with awe and I revel in his Kyle smile. It starts small, a teasing smirk, and it grows, stretching across his face. When his smile's this wide, a small dimple creases his left cheek. My fingers have nowhere to go but to his face, running along his lower lip and then into that completely endearing dip.
“That was some kinda sexy,” he says, swooping down to capture my mouth. It's brief, but devastating at the same time. “I could live on that memory for the rest of my life and remain satisfied.”
He’s yet to remove his hand. I gasp as he slides deeper and I tighten around him. He's at my ear now, nibbling, and whispering, “You feel so good wrapped around me, and it's only going to get better. Are you ready for me?”
Hell yes, I could do this again. After two more thrusts, he glides out only to linger over my clit. I groan and grab his dick as payback. I suspect, by what’s pressed into my thigh, he’s big. It's a thousand percent confirmed when I make contact. My Lord, I need to fan myself and take a breather. I want nothing more than to bare him and take him in my mouth.
“My turn,” I say, as I work the line of his zipper.
Laughter, loud and growing louder, greets us as we roll over and I push him into the sand. We look up together, staring and unable to move. My hand is halfway down his pants, his just out of mine, as a group of teenage boys highjack the beach. Our eyes connect, then swing back and forth between us and our visitors and then we lose it, laughing the funny, awkward, caught-sneaking-into-the-proverbial-cookie-jar laughter. Tears stream down my face at the absurdity of it. I roll off of him into the sand, clutching my stomach when hoots and whistles rise above my own giggles. Somewhere through my haze, I realize Kyle’s watching me, a twinkle in his eyes and a huge, dimple-filled grin confirming his own hilarity.
“It . . . it’s not that funny,” he says, trying to straighten his face.
I can’t respond because of my hitching breath. It’s really not, but for some reason being caught in the act on the beach has set me off. Maybe it’s because I haven’t laughed, really laughed, in a very long time and it feels so good.
After another minute I stand, zipping my shorts with my back to our audience. All the laughter gone, Kyle watches the show with an intensity I've yet to see from him. We're not playing anymore.
I take the same approach and look him up and down. I’ve ruined his shirt. I pulled it into loose twists that can’t fall away due to my fierce grip. First my hands twisted into it to keep him away from Derrick, then I gripped it as I rode his hand as if it were giving me the first orgasm I’d ever had. I haven’t felt that free in years, and I took everything I needed to find that freedom. I’m not sorry about what happened. I’m taking tonight and will deal with the consequences in the morning.
“You’re right. Come on,” I say. I reach out, and Kyle takes my offered assistance and pops to his feet. “I’m taking you home.”
“Breaking one of your rules, are you?”
“Don’t get any ideas, Cowboy. We’re going to my place, but I didn’t say anything about a bed.” His eyes narrow and I smile, moving to grip his shirt. Pulling him closer, I take in his gruff whisper, the one that makes me wet and needy. “I was thinking since you’ve already had me on the sand, we could try the shower and maybe the table or against a wall.”
A slow move and he nestles into my hips. The pressure of his erection digs into me and the throb is back. Looking into the crystal-clear beauty of his eyes, it’s easy to imagine more with Kyle, his sweet smile and carefree nature something I could get used to. But real feelings are dangerous; it’s better to pretend. I live in a fantasy until sunrise when the reality of my life will resume once more.
Kyle grips my chin, forcing my gaze from the curve of his lips to connect with his.
“We’re going to break your rules and make our own. No worries about the future; no fear of the past. It’s just you and me tonight.”
My thoughts are driven back to him when he bends into me again, forehead to forehead. The solid strength of his arms wraps around my waist. For a long moment we just hold still, appreciating the heat passing between us, and the odd attachment that’s formed there as well. “Make me feel good, Kyle. I need this.”
The sharp intake of his breath and the tightening of his arms is his first response. A swift kiss and a pinch to my ass is
the second, and it lightens the mood. “Then by all means, Angel, take me home.”
KYLE
It’s a full-out race and she’s fast. Those long-ass legs have a great stride. A glowing tan and firm muscles pull her through the sand. I’m right on top of her, touching and grabbing skin wherever I can. Her giggles spur me on.
We’re minutes from her house. She lives in an apartment complex with maybe five units, supported ten feet from the ground on stilts with individual staircases leading to the front doors. I grab her on the first step, spinning her around so we’re eye to eye. Loneliness hides within them most of the time, but not now. Not tonight. In this moment there’s only need, and that's something I know how to work with.
Our breath, heightened by the run, meets between us until it stops altogether when I crash my mouth against hers. There’s no thought, no chance to stop, and no way I’ll let her change her mind. I lick into her mouth as if she's better than anything I've tasted before, and it's the truth.
I’m drunk on Faith, consumed by her smell. The sweet hint of jasmine and sex suck me in. It's so fucking good. I want to savor every bite until I can have it all—all of her.
Finally, after what seems like years, my hands are on her tits. Still living on the memory of her pussy tightening on my fingers, I long for more. I pinch and pull until her whimpers extend to a full-blown groan. The tight tips dig into my palm as I squeeze the perfect fit.
I break away and she gulps in air. Smiling when she whispers “Oh, God”, I bend to take her in, ripping her clothes down to expose her tit to the air and my tongue. It's my turn to call for God when I'm sucking so hard she cries out and grips my hair.
My mouth takes over, devouring, destroying, taking and giving it all back so we can start again. Her whimpers have my dick twitching and her roaming fingers set my pulse on fire.
She settles on my cock. I release her, pressing my open mouth into her neck. I can't think with her hands on me. It’s time to take her and make her mine. I need to be inside of her—now.