Think Again

by Isabel Lucero

  We laugh as we relive old college memories—everything from getting completely shit-faced and embarrassing ourselves to talking about the teachers we hated the most and why. Chris went to college away from his family, but I stayed in Alaska and went to the university here.

  There’s never a lull in conversation, and if we aren’t laughing and ribbing each other about something, we’re actually enjoying learning more about one another. The time goes fast, and before I know it, we’re pulling up to his house.

  “I assume you want to take a shower,” he says as we cross the threshold from his garage and into his kitchen.

  “Most definitely.”

  With my duffle bag in hand, I follow him as he leads me up the stairs and towards a bathroom.

  “Towels are here,” he says, grabbing one from a linen closet and handing it to me. “I don’t have any shampoo or anything in this bathroom. Do you want me to grab some of mine from my bathroom?”

  “I don’t need any shampoo,” I tell him. “Just some soap will work.”

  He walks down the hall, disappearing into his bedroom, and comes back with a bottle of body wash. “I don’t think this smells too masculine,” he says, handing it to me.

  “As long as it cleans me, I’m fine with it,” I say with a smile.

  “Okay, well, I’ll take a shower in the other bathroom, and I’ll meet you downstairs when you’re done.”

  “Okay.”

  After closing the door, I take a deep breath and try to remain calm. This is the part of the date I’ve been nervous about. The final step in solidifying our affair is fast approaching.

  Affair.

  I can’t believe I’m using that word and not referring to Aaron. I’m having an affair, and instead of feeling guilty or apprehensive, I feel excited and unashamed. I wonder if this is the same way Aaron feels. Does he feel guilty? Does it matter if you do and continue anyway? Right now, I don’t even care to think about it. Or Aaron. All of my thoughts are on Chris.

  Since I don’t need to wash my hair again, having done that this morning, I make sure to wrap it up in a high bun and start running the bath water. The hot water relaxes my body, so I stay submerged for a while before scrubbing myself clean and getting out.

  I plant my feet on the black rug near the tub, and wrap the fluffy white towel around my body. Glad that I brought some lotion with me in my bag, I moisturize my skin, and begin pulling my clothes out.

  Since my dress has an open back, I can’t put my bra on, but I slip on the lacey black panties, followed by the form-fitting dress. Observing myself from each angle, I’m happy with how this dress makes me look and feel. Sexy and confident.

  I apply my makeup, keeping it relatively light and just focusing on my mascara and eyeliner to highlight my eyes. The lipstick color I use is pink flesh, giving me just a bit of color, topped with some gloss.

  After brushing through my hair, it falls in perfect loose waves past my shoulders. These are purely accidental, thanks to excessive curling this morning, and having them fall just enough throughout the day to leave me with this style. If I wanted loose waves to begin with, I’d probably never be able to achieve them.

  My black pumps are the final touch, giving me an extra four inches of height, putting me at five foot eight. Still several inches shorter than Chris, which I like.

  I tuck my bag beside the counter and open the door to a wonderful aroma. I was under the assumption that we were going out to dinner, but by the smell of it, it seems Chris has prepared dinner for us. And that makes my heart soar a little bit more.

  As soon as I’ve descended the stairs, I walk across the hardwood floor, moving through the living and dining room, before reaching the kitchen. Chris has his back to me, so I get a moment to admire him. He’s decked out in black, both slacks and button up. The sleeves are folded up a quarter of the way, allowing some of his ink to be visible.

  My heels make a clicking noise as I enter the kitchen, causing him to turn around.

  “Wow,” he says, his voice a low whisper. “You are breathtaking.”

  I can’t help the heat that floods my cheeks, and the smile that stretches across my face. “I was just thinking the same about you.”

  He grins, closing the distance between us and giving me a small peck on the lips. His large hand grabs mine, and he seems to just now be noticing that I don’t have my wedding ring on, because he hesitates while looking at it before bringing it to his mouth to kiss. The smile I’m rewarded with makes my heart skip a beat.

  “I wanted to make dinner for you, so I hope you’re okay with staying in.”

  “Of course. This will be our own private restaurant,” I reply with a giddy smile.

  “And since I’m the owner, we can do whatever we want. I can literally have you for dessert at the table.”

  “Mmm,” I moan, still grinning.

  “I thought you might like that.”

  “Can I help with anything?” I ask, turning around and looking towards the stove.

  I hear his breath hitch. “God.”

  “What?” I ask, turning around to look at him.

  “Your dress. You’re trying to skip straight to dessert, aren’t you?”

  He reaches out and caresses my back, his touch sending warmth directly to my core.

  “Oh. You like it?”

  “I like it so much I can’t wait to take it off,” he growls.

  I can’t help but giggle. “That’s a little confusing, but I think I understand.” I turn around, making his hand drop from my back. “Let’s focus on dinner first. I’d hate for your hard work to go to waste.”

  He groans. “Fine. Let’s eat fast.”

  Dinner is impeccable, consisting of chicken parmesan and pasta.

  “Wow, this is so good,” I tell him in between bites.

  “Thank you. I’m glad you like it,” he replies, grabbing for his drink.

  “I’m not generally a wine drinker, but this is good,” I admit, reaching for the glass of white wine.

  “You don’t drink wine?” he asks, surprised.

  I laugh. “I know. What kind of woman am I? I prefer liquor. Vodka. Crown. You know, stuff like that.”

  “Well, those are good, too.”

  The food is delicious, but I don’t want to overeat and feel exceptionally full and fat, so I don’t finish all of the pasta. I do drink a couple glasses of wine, feeling like I need a little liquid courage. I’ve never been with anybody else since I got married, and before him, I’d only been with one other guy.

  “Are you done?” Chris asks, standing up from his seat at the head of the table.

  “Yes, but I can take it to the kitchen.”

  “No, no. You stay there,” he says, giving me a kiss on the forehead before taking our dishes to the kitchen.

  While he’s gone, I pour myself a little more wine. When he comes back, he has a platter with a variety of desserts.

  “Ooh. What’s all this?” I ask with excitement as he places the silver dish between us.

  “Well, admittedly, I didn’t make any of this. I also wasn’t sure what your favorite kind of dessert is, so I picked up a little bit of everything. We have strawberry shortcake, chocolate cake, strawberries—some dipped in chocolate—and a bit of whipped cream on the side, and some cheesecake. So, how’d I do?” he asks with a grin.

  “You did good. Very good,” I answer with a laugh. “I happen to like all of it.”

  “Great! Let’s dig in.”

  Chris feeds me a few bites of the cakes, and I dip a strawberry in the whipped cream and feed it to him. I laugh when I accidentally get some on the side of his mouth.

  “Oops.”

  “Uh-uh. You gotta clean it up,” he says with a mischievous smirk.

  “You don’t have any napkins here,” I say, looking at the table.

  “Guess you have to use your tongue,” he flirts, lifting a single brow, challenging me.

  “I could use my finger,” I counter.

  “I wan
t you to use your tongue.”

  The way his voice drops makes me want to use my tongue too. I get up from my seat and sit in his lap, catching him a little off guard. One arm wraps around my back, while the other one lies across my thighs. I lean in and lick the side of his mouth, moaning as I taste the whipped cream.

  “Mmm.” I back away. “Now you’re all clean.”

  “And now it’s time to get dirty,” he growls, standing me up as he does the same. He quickly pushes the dishes to the opposite side of the table before turning his attention back to me. “Time to get this dress off,” he demands, trying to figure out where to start.

  I do him a favor and take it off myself. Unzipping the zipper that’s hidden on the side, I let the black material fall to my feet, leaving me standing in only my panties and heels.

  The way his eyes roam over my body sets me on fire. I don’t feel uncomfortable or insecure, because the way he studies me and then touches himself through his pants lets me know that he likes what he sees.

  “God, you’re perfect,” he breathes, coming close and running his hands over my hips and waist.

  Our mouths meet for a kiss, starting soft and slow before our need for the other takes over, making our tongues work overtime. I can’t get enough. He tastes of whipped cream and wine and it’s deliciously intoxicating.

  Suddenly, he turns us around and places me atop his dinner table. My legs are spread apart, allowing him to stand between them.

  “It’s time for dessert,” he says huskily, kissing a path from my mouth, across my cheek, and down my neck.

  “I thought we had dessert,” I say breathlessly.

  “That was for you. This is for me,” he states, lying me across his table.

  I bite my lip as his head moves lower, kissing me between my breasts and down my stomach. I try to control my breathing, but it’s a lost cause. My anticipation has reached its peak.

  “Chris,” I pant, wanting more.

  He continues to tease me, giving me small pecks across my stomach, over my hip bone, moving to my upper thigh.

  My back arches as I throw my head back, closing my eyes.

  “I want to take my time enjoying my dessert. It’s my favorite part of the meal,” he teases, straightening his body up.

  I watch as he grabs for his glass of wine and holds it over my stomach. His eyes meet mine, either asking for permission, or allowing me time to prepare. I nod my head once.

  The wine trickles onto my stomach, starting a little above my belly button, and dripping to the top of my panties, as well as down my sides and onto the table.

  Chris leans over me, his tongue darting out and licking the wine from my body. My body clenches, and I squeeze him between my legs. He makes sure to lick and suck every part of my body that’s covered in the alcohol, driving me absolutely insane. When his mouth makes it to the top of my panties, his tongue dips below the material, and I glance down to watch him, and then his lust-filled eyes meet mine.

  “Mmm,” he moans. “So good.”

  “Chris,” I practically beg.

  Once again he hovers over me, and I quickly wrap my arms around him, bringing him closer. My tongue parts his lips, tasting the wine he licked from my body, and then I suck his tongue into my mouth.

  “Fuck,” he grunts as he pulls away. “I need you in my room. Now.”

  Only moments later, we’re upstairs, me—still in my panties and heels—him, fully dressed.

  “These need to go,” I say, gesturing to his clothes.

  He smirks. “Don’t worry. They will.”

  I sit on the edge of his king size bed, the dark gray covers are cool and soft against my skin. I watch as he slowly starts unbuttoning his shirt, finally revealing to me the amazing body that’s been hidden underneath.

  The room isn’t that dark, thanks to the Alaskan sun still shining brightly at nearly seven o’clock. He has curtains, but they don’t block the light entirely, so my visual isn’t hindered at all.

  Chris has an impressive six-pack, but the V that points to his erection really catches my eye. Good god. I can’t stop looking. His muscles aren’t extremely bulky, but it’s obvious he works out fairly often.

  The pants are next to go, leaving him standing in front of me in only a pair of black boxer-briefs. Boxer briefs that are straining against the impressive erection inside them.

  “I still haven’t finished my dessert,” he says. “Scoot back.”

  I do as he says, and watch as his hands pull the lacey panties down over my hips and down my legs. He takes my heels off and drops them off the side of the bed.

  With no other words spoken, he settles himself between my legs and begins kissing my inner thighs. I grip the covers with both hands as his soft lips plant gentle kisses on my skin, moving closer and closer to my . . .

  “Oh!” I cry out as his tongue dances across my clit.

  I hear him moan as he licks the length of me, finding me wet and ready for him. The way his tongue and lips work together, taking me to a height of ecstasy I haven’t experienced before, is heavenly. He switches from fucking me with his tongue, to gently licking my clit, devouring me like he’s a starved man.

  I can already feel myself nearing orgasm, but with how sensitive everything feels already, I want to feel him inside of me before I come.

  “Chris,” I pant. “Chris, I need you. I want to feel you.”

  A few seconds later, he’s up and on his knees, wiping his mouth with his hand. After moving to the end table to get a condom, he pushes his boxer-briefs down and joins me back on the bed.

  I watch as he unrolls the condom onto his thick and long length, and then positions the tip at my entrance, pushing in slowly.

  “Ah!” I gasp, arching my back as he pushes in, stretching and filling me completely.

  “Oh, god,” he groans, bracing himself over me. “Fuck,” he hisses, pulling out and thrusting back in.

  “Yes,” I cry, digging my fingers into his back.

  He drapes one of my legs over his arm, making it possible for him to thrust even deeper. My eyes squeeze shut as I revel in the feel of him. Each push inside of me brings me closer and closer to bliss.

  Our bodies grind together in a sensual dance, moving in harmony like we’ve done this a million times. My hands grip his flexing biceps as he drives into me.

  “God, Aria,” he grunts, moving faster and deeper.

  “You feel so good, Chris. I love it. Yes!”

  His perfect cock keeps hitting the right spot over and over, pushing me closer to the edge. Before I know it, I’m not just falling off the edge, I’m jumping. I scream out his name as I ride out the orgasm, pulsating around him.

  He drops my leg, and I loosely wrap them around his waist as he quickens his movements, nearing his own orgasm. I feel his breath near my ear, and the scruff on his face on my neck as he grunts and groans, telling me how good I feel.

  “Oh, fuck, Aria,” he bellows, the muscles in his body tightening as he comes inside of me.

  Chris thrusts a few more times before pulling out completely and collapsing next to me.

  “Holy fuck.”

  I let out a short laugh, still out of breath myself. “Yeah.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see him take the condom off and lean over the side of the bed to toss it in the trash. He flops onto his back with a huff, and I move closer to him and lie my head on his chest. His arm automatically wraps around me, and I sigh contently.

  “I can’t give this up,” he says.

  “Give what up?”

  “This,” he repeats, squeezing me into him. “Us. I want it too bad. I just want you to know that.”

  I wake up in a panic, wondering how long I’ve been asleep. My worry subsides when I look at the clock on the nightstand next to me, realizing that it’s only ten after eight. I didn’t sleep that long.

  In dire need of using the bathroom, I get out of bed and am aware of my complete nudity as I walk to his master bath. Chris isn’t in bed
with me, so I assume he’s downstairs, probably cleaning up the kitchen.

  After using the restroom, I clean myself up as much as possible, and tame my wild hair with my fingers. I wipe the bit of mascara that smudged under my eyes, not wanting to look too raccoon-ish. I’m a little sore between my legs, but deliciously so. I grin as I open the door and walk back into Chris’s bedroom.

  “Jesus,” Chris states, putting his hand on his heart. “I could get used to seeing you walk around my house like this.”

  I smile shyly, trying to use my arms to conceal my nakedness. “I don’t have any clothes up here.”

  He walks forward, and I realize he’s holding my duffle bag and purse. Dropping them both on the floor, he advances towards me and moves my arms to my sides.

  “Don’t cover up. You’re perfect.”

  His hands dance over my breasts, down my sides, and then cup my ass. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of basketball shorts, so I allow my hands to caress his skin as well. I get on my tip-toes and wrap my arms around his neck, bringing him in for a kiss.

  After a few seconds, he groans, pulling away. “You’re gonna start round two if you don’t stop kissing me like that.”

  “Maybe that’s what I want,” I flirt.

  “Mmm. I like that answer.” He gives me a few warm kisses on the lips before stopping. “Oh. I brought your stuff up here.” With a pause, he says, “Your phone’s been going off, so you might want to check it.”

  Maybe it’s the way he doesn’t make eye contact with me, or the tone in his voice when he says it, but I feel like he thinks it’s Aaron, which would put a damper on our night.

  “Oh. Okay. Thank you.”

  I walk over to where he dropped my things, and pick up the T-shirt he bought for me at the conservation center. I find my panties on the floor and put those back on before digging through my purse for my phone.

  With a quick glance at my screen, I see I have four text messages and two missed calls. Most of them are actually from Janna, but one of the messages and one missed call is from Aaron.

  Jan: Hey, what’re you doing?

  Jan: Hello?? I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever. What is going on with Dr. Hot Stuff?