by Alexa Davis
I heard Danny snort from across the room. “He needed to have the biggest frame to balance out his giant brain,” he scoffed. “I’m all done here, I’ll drive you whenever you’re ready.”
I thanked him and risked one more look towards my father, who was concentrating on his work and had, for his purposes, dismissed me from the room. It wasn’t the start to my trip that I’d planned on, but if that was how he wanted to leave things, who was I to argue?
Mom asked to ride along, and Danny offered to buy us lunch, so the three of us piled into the Escalade with Rachel and started for Austin. At the big gate, Danny put on the brakes and waited, watching his side mirror. I turned in my seat to see Pete jogging towards the car.
“Do you mind one more?” he panted when Danny rolled down his window. I jerked a thumb toward the backseat, and he climbed in.
“Why don’t you smell like horses?” I called out to the back of the car.
“I heard a rumor you were leaving, I wanted to drive you to the airport. Then ya’ll just left without even saying goodbye.”
“Sorry man, I got a little out of sorts and just lost track of everything. Besides, I’m coming back to get my stuff before I’m gone for good.”
Pete sniffed from the backseat. “Well, you still owed me a goodbye.”
“Yeah, but now you get lunch too,” Danny chimed in. I felt bad about forgetting to stop by the stables. Before I’d fallen in love with technology, Pete had taught me how to ride, and how to care for my horses. Hell, he’d taken more interest in me than my old man.
“You know, Pete, I screwed up not getting to the stables, but I’m glad you made us stop.” I turned in my seat and Pete saluted me from the back of the car. I laughed. “I had no idea I was so important,” I teased, looking around.
“I’m just here for the food,” Pete retorted.
“Daniel made me come with,” Rachel added with a shrug.
“I didn’t want Mom to have to drive,” Danny quipped when I glanced over at him.
“Well, great. Mom, did you want to be here?” I saw Danny looking at her in the rearview, but she just shook her head at him.
“Of course, I wanted to see you to your plane, Jackson,” she cooed in her soft voice. “I had to make sure you actually got on, after all.” The car erupted in laughter. I rolled my eyes, but laughed along. I was going to be missed. It meant something to me. More importantly, there were people I was leaving behind I would miss. If Stanford even wanted me.
Chapter Nine
Carina
Jackson had texted when he was seated on his plane, and I’d sent a reminder text of the address of the Italian restaurant he could meet me at. I was disappointed that he thought us meeting was so strange that we had to do it on neutral ground, but it was overridden by sheer excitement that he was finally going to be in the same room as me.
I tried and failed at some simple leatherworking, and paced my shining and dust-free hardwood floors while I waited to hear that he was close enough for me to head to the restaurant. Stiles followed me back and forth across the room, playing tag with my shadow, until even he grew tired and found a ray of sunshine to nap in.
I double checked the fridge looking for any missing man foods or beverages I might pick up while I waited, and decided to pick up more beer and wine, in case he didn’t like what I already had. I took my Vespa down to the BevMo and got another bottle of pinot noir and a sauvignon blanc for myself, and a six-pack of Smog City Brewing IPA in honor of my out of state guest.
I got home and put the drinks away, and after a glance at the clock, decided to take another shower, mostly to fill the time in a space where I couldn’t take a clock. Fifteen minutes later, I had the smoothest legs in the history of shaving, and was still at least at least an hour away from hearing anything from Jackson. I paced and worried and tried to ignore the weight in my stomach that usually signaled an imminent panic attack.
I checked my hair and makeup. What if he didn’t like me wearing makeup, since I almost never did in stream? What if the extra pounds I’d gained since I quit trying to look like a model were just enough that he wouldn’t want to see me naked? I should’ve turned the bedroom back into a bedroom. My bohemian lifestyle, which had seemed so frugal and common sense, now just looked like a poor girl trying to survive. Everything about me or my home that I had loved so much, seemed inferior and immature, and unworthy.
I wet a washcloth and set it in the freezer for a minute while I breathed and checked my phone again. The plane would have landed by then, but just, and there was still time before I should have expected him to call. I put the cold cloth on the back of my neck, closed my eyes as I leaned over my kitchen counter, and counted. One, two, three… I cracked my eyes just enough to see the phone was still and dark on the counter top. Four, five, six, seven… I jumped as the vibration of the phone chittered a staccato beat across the marble. Eight, nine, ten… I finished counting and took a deep, calming breath before I looked at the phone, then did a happy dance around the kitchen as he reported he’d landed earlier than expected and was already waiting for his rental car.
It was only about twenty minutes from the Bob Hope airport to my downtown apartment, and there were enough restaurants and bars nearby that, if I had him just meet me at the parking garage, we could take advantage of the proximity of everything and walk, talk, and maybe pick a place that he would be more likely to enjoy.
Unable to stop myself, I did one last hair and makeup check, deciding against lipstick at the last second and removing it, then dragged myself out of the bathroom before I could change anything else.
I texted him my idea and, thankfully, he agreed to meet me downstairs so I could get him parking under my building. He called less than a minute later and I answered with a parched throat and shaking hands.
“Hey, traffic doesn’t seem as bad as I was expecting for California. The navigation says I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.” His voice came across tinny and thin over the speaker phone, and he sounded further away than he did when he was still in Texas.
“That sounds about right. Burbank is, in reality, much better to get to downtown LA than LAX is. How was the flight?”
“Long. Quiet, boring, and long. It was tough not being able to call you or text you as we crossed over landmarks I knew brought me closer. If I’d driven, I would have had you on the phone wherever there was reception.”
“Yeah, but the trip would’ve taken two days at least, and you would’ve hated me by the time you arrived.” He laughed and agreed that flying had been the best option. He tried to talk for a couple more minutes but I was so wrung out I could hardly remember a word he’d said, moments after he said it. “Sugar, I’m worried that I’m too distracted, and I’ll distract you, and I don’t want you getting lost. I’m going to tidy up one last time and head downstairs to wait for you. What did you rent?”
“Of course. Just look for the red rental jeep with the doors still attached. That will be me.” We said our goodbyes and I hung up. I was in shock. The guy I’d been crushing over online was going to be at my place in less than 10 minutes. I felt numb and shaky, and my mouth was the Sahara. I hugged Stiles so tight he squeaked and struggled to escape my grip, wiped down the counters one last time, and headed down to the front door to wait.
I didn’t wait long, though. I had only just begun my second pass across the front of the building when I saw a red jeep pull through the intersection. Through the sunlight glinting off the windshield, I could just barely make out a cowboy hat behind the steering wheel. I waved, and the jeep slowly advanced until it was at the gate for the parking garage.
He opened the door from the inside and asked if I wanted to hop in. I slid in and shut the door with a slam, so nervous that the sound made me jump. I looked at him with wide eyes and he laughed, then his face turned serious, and he licked his lips, staring at me like I was being measured. I swallowed hard and looked down at my hands in my lap.
“Hey, where do you want
me?” he asked, his voice all gravel and sex. My head snapped up and his expression matched his tone. With his eyes still on mine, he slid his hand up my thigh to the hem of the skater skirt I was wearing, which brought his warm finger tips within inches of my panties.
“Ah, um, right through here. Guest parking is on the first level here, straight ahead. Any empty space will do.” He drove all the way to the back wall and pulled straight into a spot away from any other cars. He got out and opened my door before I could get out on my own.
“Do you think a “hello” hug is appropriate?” he asked, sliding a hand around my back, to rest at the very base of my back. I nodded and stepped into him, while he slid his other hand and arm around me. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, and he held me tight, until my heart began to race. He released me and looked down into my face, and for the first time, I realized just how tall he was. His face was so close I could feel his breath on my mouth, and I closed the distance to kiss him chastely, then I pulled back, worried I had gone too far.
Instead of pushing away, he pressed us both against the closed door of the jeep and kissed me, hard and deep. His hands started on my shoulders, but soon, he was stroking me, running his fingers down my arms and massaging my hips. I let out a little involuntary moan, and he delved deeper, his tongue searching the inside of my mouth as I clung to him, afraid my jelly knees would give out on me completely.
Finally, after an eternity floating between ecstasy and insatiable need as he ran his hands over my body in the dark corner of the parking garage, he pulled away with a growl and pressed his forehead against mine.
“How hungry are you, really?” he panted as I ran my hand over the front of his pants, pressing against the hard bulge I found there.
“I have food upstairs,” I whispered, afraid to speak too loudly in the big concrete echo chamber of the garage. “As a matter of fact, I have all the foods, and the beverages. Enough to skip the convention entirely and spend the next four days in the apartment.” His hand slid up the front of me and he cupped my breast in his hand, rubbing his thumb over my hard nipple through my thin tank top.
“Seems like you have everything I need right here,” he said, licking his lips and squeezing my breast until I gasped. “I think it would be best for us both, if we just skipped the restaurant and went upstairs.
My tongue in knots and my stomach adrift on the backs of butterflies, I could only nod. He kissed me one more time and locked the doors on the jeep with a beep from his key fob. Suitcases and Italian food already forgotten, we raced to the elevator, eager to continue where we’d left off as soon as the door closed.
“You smell like rain and sunshine, and you feel like silk in my hands,” he whispered in my ear as he slipped his hands under my top and ran them over my chest and back.
“So, you’re okay with missing out on our late lunch?” I asked, half teasing, but also unsure that it was real, and I wasn’t imagining it. God knew I’d spent plenty of time fantasizing circumstances exactly the way they were turning out.
“I have everything I need right here,” he replied, lowering his mouth to mine for one last kiss before we reached my floor.
Chapter Ten
Jackson
I thanked God the moment I realized her apartment was right next to the elevator. I was inches away from taking her right up against the wall, and I was losing control fast. I’d known I was in trouble the moment I pulled up and saw the sun shining on her tanned skin, and making her hair a halo around her face.
But with that first kiss, it was like a dam had burst. All the need I’d fostered while we talked, fantasizing about her with no real release, came out in my rough hands and bruising mouth. Once we were inside the apartment, I tore her top off over her head, lowering my mouth to her bare breasts and sucked on them one at a time as she knocked the hat off my head and wound her fingers through my hair.
“Bed,” I managed to get out, and she cringed and started to pull away. Immediately I let go of her and backed off, but she just pointed to the sofa and shelf across the room.
“It’s a Murphy bed, we have to pull it down.” She crossed her arms over her chest and bent over to pick up her shirt, but I beat her to it and tossed it over near the sofa, and followed it with my own.
“Bed,” I repeated, looking her over and licking my lips. With a little girl shriek, she leaped out of reach and made a beeline for the sofa, where she quickly converted the area to a king-sized bed. I joined her next to the bed and pointed at her, then at it.
“Skirt,” I said, pointing at the floor, “bed,“ I finished, pointing at her. “Or I’ll do it for you.” The threat in my voice made her flinch, and she whipped the skirt down around her ankles and laid on the bed in just a pair of white panties that made my mouth water. I took off my everything but my boxer-briefs, and knelt over her on the bed. First, I kissed her mouth, her temples, her neck, anything to relax her and make her want more.
My mouth moved down to her breasts, and I licked and sucked them until she begged to have me inside her. I slid my hand over the soft warmth between her legs and stroked her there through her panties, stoking the fire until her soft lips were hot to the touch even through the fabric, and her panties were soaked with her juices.
I slid the panties to one side and ran one finger down the folds of her and inside that wet heat, stroking her inside as I sucked and nipped at her nipples. I was hard as a rock from touching her, and when she continued to beg for release, I pulled down her panties and my briefs and slid into her with one long, slow thrust, so tight it took my breath away, but so wet I was afraid I wouldn’t last.
I started an easy rhythm, thrusting slowly, but all the way in until I banged against the very end of her, then out almost completely before thrusting again. She clutched at my shoulders and rocked her hips to meet me, and as her breathing and rhythm sped up, I knew she was close. I stopped moving, letting her hold me deep inside her, and asked her if she could finish. She held on as I flipped her over, so I was looking up at the most perfect little breasts I’d ever seen.
Her hair was falling out of its bindings and as she started to rock her hips, sliding me in and out of her, it clung to the light sweat that was beading up at her forehead. She rocked faster and harder, her ass slapping against my thighs as I lifted us up, tilting my hips to give her the best angle.
“Oh my God, oh shit, I’ve waited for this for since the first minute of the first day,” she panted as she rode me hard and fast. I felt her tighten around me just before she threw back her head, crying out wordlessly as she came.
She held on, pushing down as hard as she could while the waves of pleasure rolled over her, and with every new crash of orgasm, she spasmed around me until I thought she might bring me to completion without moving. Finally, she began to shudder, and collapsed on my chest, breathing hard and whimpering. Before I could roll us over and top her, she started to lift her ass and slide down over me from the new angle.
Sliding down over me that way made my eyesight swim, and I closed my eyes to focus on the intense sensation of her tight muscles, wrapped around me and riding me like a barber pole, straight up and down.
I grabbed her ass with both hands and gripped her flight as I pulled her down on me harder and faster, making her whimper against the sensitivity of her flesh being abused so roughly. I asked her if she wanted to change, and she begged me not to stop until she’d come again.
I kept slamming her down onto my hard cock until I felt the familiar tightening of her muscles and slowed and lengthened my thrusts to better serve her, rubbing her nub with my thumb as she came again. This time, as her muscles clenched, they wrung an orgasm from me, despite my best efforts to hold off for longer. I spasmed inside her, so that hot milky liquid ran down the sides of my shaft when I pulled out, and laid her down next to me.
She lay there, completely immobile, for a few minutes curled up against me, with her back to my chest, and let her use my arm as a pillow. My free hand st
roked down her side all the way from shoulder to thigh, where I massaged the tightness out of it, and continued to hold her until she sighed, and fell asleep in my arms.
I reveled in the peace of the moment until I followed her into the sleep that only the truly sated can fall in to, dreamless and deep, yet aware of the heady ache that follows complete physical satisfaction.
Chapter Eleven
Carina
The lack of sleep had finally caught up with me, and the combination of relief that Jackson didn’t hate me, and the delicious languor that always follows a fabulous orgasm, knocked me out for almost an hour. When I opened my eyes and felt the firm muscles of Jackson’s arm under my head, it was like I’d just moved from one dream to a better one. If I wasn’t already awake, I didn’t want to be.
I slid out of bed without waking him and made a beeline for the bathroom, where I stared at my reflection and gaped, unable to even come up with a suitable pep talk. Nowhere in my real-life estimation of our meeting had the possibility of us having sex before even getting his suitcase out of the car, come up. Was I a slut for having sex within ten minutes of meeting someone, or were we conservative, because we’d talked so long before hooking up?
I felt a little slutty, but worse, I felt like I’d made love to him. I was okay with sex, but I’d never had that “orgasm that made me cry” before. I’d felt so connected in that moment, that tears had stung my eyes and my heart had felt like it would burst out of me any second. I washed my face, reapplied only the bare necessities of foundation and mascara, and snuck back out to the kitchen. I’d already forgotten what meals I had planned, so I rifled through my pantry and fridge again, looking for my best chance at impressing him with my cooking.
I started by uncorking a bottle of wine for myself and, while it breathed, I hopped online to remind my viewers that I was offline until I could find time during the convention, but that I’d upload YouTube videos as I could.