by L. Duarte
My body trembled and melted into his. He slid his hand around my waist and pressed my lower tummy. He pulled me against him. I felt his arousal on my back. My breath caught, and my girl parts throbbed.
“You are the most adorable thing in the world.” He placed his hand over mine on the knob and turned, opening the door and breaking the spell he had put me under.
“Let’s get this done and over with,” he said, adjusting his pants.
I pulled my dress down, but it immediately hiked up, bunching around my thighs. It was too tight. Looking in the mirror, I scowled at my image. I wanted to look beautiful that night, not like a slut. Whatever Caleb meant with a special date had me going mental.
I stared at my closet again. Black, white, and beige. Those were the only colors gracing my wardrobe. I tugged the dress down again. I smoothed my hair and applied a little makeup. I wanted to look different from the gothic, or the makeup striped me that Caleb saw every day. Did that worsen my mental condition? I already had two personas going, should I add a third? I blew the hair falling in my face and decided to leave it down.
I heard the soft purr of Caleb’s car. I grabbed my purse. No, not the messenger that night, I opted for a small handbag I had bought at a thrift store.
When I opened the front door, Caleb’s hand was midair to press the bell. A thought flashed through my mind. “Never go out with a boy who waits for you inside the car, or worse, toots the horn.” I smiled. “Yeah, Dad, you would like Caleb.”
“Wow, love. You look hot,” Caleb said, snatching me out of the reminiscent moment.
“You cleaned up pretty good, yourself,” I said, examining his perfect build. He wore black slacks and a gray button-down shirt. His hair, still damp from the shower, pointed in different directions as if he had been pulling on it for the last hour.
He slid his hand around my waist. “That dress might just be the death of me,” he said, brushing his lips on mine.
“I’ll sprinkle your ashes on a rose bush or something.” My high heels almost leveled me with him—don’t be shocked that I owned a pair of stilettos though I’d never worn them prior to that night.
I put my arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily.
“You, dear, are a heartless wench,” he said breathlessly against my lips.
“I have a heart,” I said in mock protest. Though it’s just a dreary frozen lump in the cavity of my chest.
I pulled his lower lip between my teeth and nipped on it.
“Let’s get out of here before I ravish you at the front door of your house.”
He placed a hand over the small of my back and guided me to the car. His touch was confident and possessive. It made me shiver in anticipation of what he had in store for our date.
There was a palpable energy humming between us, an invisible force that seemed to dictate our fate. The anticipation of when I was getting ready dissipated, replaced by an excitement for the unknown. That was the first, perhaps the only time in my life I felt like a teenager. Caleb opened the car’s door. A square box wrapped in pinkish paper occupied my seat.
My head turned to Caleb.
“That’s for you,” he said, answering my silent question.
I slid inside the car and placed the box on my thigh.
Caleb circled the car and sat behind the wheel. “Go ahead and open it, you’re gonna need it.”
My fingers ripped the feminine paper. I opened the top of the box to find a caramel-colored pair of UGGs. “Boots?”
“Yeah, I thought you would wear heels. You’re gonna need comfortable shoes to get to where we’re going.”
In silence, I got rid of my heels. At school, everyone but me owned a pair of UGGs. They were expensive as hell so I never entertained the crazy idea of buying any. The moment my feet slid inside, I understood all the fuss over those boots. Nothing so soft had ever graced my feet. I sighed and bit my lip. The gift threw me off my game. I had forgotten the social norms of receiving a gift. “Umm, thank you,” I said, almost as an afterthought.
“You’re welcome, love.” He grasped my hand, touched his lips to my knuckles and placed our twined fingers on his lap.
When Caleb pulled over and parked, I recognized the place. “You’re taking me to feed birds?” I asked, bemused.
“We’re going to your willow tree.” He caressed my cheek. “But not to feed birds.”
After he had opened my door, he retrieved a picnic basket and two flashlights from the trunk. I followed Caleb through the moonlit trail. I glanced at my feet, grateful for the comfortable shoes. It would’ve been impossible to trudge the uneven terrain in heels.
We stepped across the creek. The swish of the stream rushing down added to the magical quality of the night. The practical side of me warned that I should turn around, go home, and forget about Caleb. But I squashed the thought. For one night, I wanted to be free. Be spontaneous, young, and reckless. To simply be a girl in love with a boy. I wanted to accept that lost side of me.
Caleb glanced at me and smiled. Every time he looked at me, it was as if I saw my reflection inside his eyes. And though it scared the hell out of me, I liked that impression. It was a pure Luna that I thought was long dead and buried. For the duration of the time we were together, I wanted to see myself through his eyes. I wanted to feel alive, beautiful, and whole.
When we reached the tree, Caleb placed the basket next to a few pillows and over a blanket already covering the floor near the willow’s trunk. He shut off both flashlights and turned to the tree’s trunk, fumbling with something. “Shit,” he murmured under his breath.
“What? What are you doing?” Clearly, he had done some sort of preparation earlier.
“Patience, young grasshopper,” he said.
Finally, I heard a small click and thousands of tiny lights twinkled above me. A gasp escaped my lips as I gazed up. The round tree had turned into a dome, complete with a private planetarium. A constellation of stars created by Caleb. I bit the inside of my cheek so hard that blood burst into my mouth, spreading a metallic taste. I opened and closed my mouth. An overwhelming rush of emotions seized me, making me feel dazed. I couldn’t get myself to produce speech.
“Do you like it?” Caleb asked after a while. His voice was uncertain, nervous even. He must have misunderstood my silence.
“Too much?” he asked, scrunching up his face. He raked his hair adding, “You hate it. Too cheesy—”
I put my fingers on his lips. “Hush. It’s perfect.” His arms went around my waist, and I felt his muscles relax against me. I wanted to say how I felt. Tell Caleb that I would remember that night until I took my last breath. But I didn’t know how. Caleb was perfect. I wouldn’t dare act as if I was worthy of him doing those sweet things for me.
For all those years, I had broken the law with impunity. And now it felt like I was being rewarded for my bad behavior. It was unacceptable. So, instead of saying anything, I kissed him. I kissed him with grief and pain, passion and love, with an urgent need. I kissed him with all that could have been if I were someone else. Someone worthy of him.
Caleb accepted my kiss. Accepted what I could give him. Because that’s who he was, a person who gave much and demanded little.
We were both breathless when he tore his lips from mine.
“Let me feed you,” he said and planted a kiss on my nose.
I sat on a blanket and watched him pull food from inside the basket: grapes, strawberries, cheeses, olives, crackers, a bottle, and crystal glasses.
“Wine?” I asked.
“Yep, I stole it from Dad’s collection. I hope it’s good,” he said, uncorking the bottle. “It’s a 2006 Pegasus Bay Waipara Valley Pinot Noir. I chose it because of the name ‘Pegasus.’” He chuckled.
He poured the rich liquid in the glasses and handed me one. “And I memorized the entire fucking name to woo you.”
“I am impressed,” I said, smiling back at him.
He cupped my face, and his thumb gently skimmed my li
ps. “I like it when you smile.”
I leaned my face into his touch.
He clinked his glass against mine and said, “To us.”
I looked at the glass in my hand. The lights reflected on the bleeding red. I hesitated. Not because I didn’t want to drink, but because I wanted to prolong every minute of the night. Identify every emotion; let it ingrain itself on my heart and in my memory. I finally brought the glass to my lips. A lush, spicy flavor tickled my tongue and unfurled on my taste buds.
“Mmm, soo good.”
“I take it that you approve of my choice.”
“Well, if every wine is this good, I might just have discovered my vice.”
“You never drank wine before?”
“I’m seventeen,” I said defensively.
“Still.” He was perplexed.
“I don’t have access to a private cellar.” I rolled my eyes.
“You have a fake ID.”
“I don’t drink, Caleb.” It was true. I had gotten drunk a couple times and had hated every part of it. The world tumbling around me, the wobbling ground, the loss of control, the sluggish way my mind worked.
“Oh.” He pressed his hand to his heart. “I’m thrilled that you’re honoring me by drinking my humble wine.”
“When I enroll in a twelve-step program, remember your role in getting me addicted.”
“You’re afraid,” he said as if stricken by realization. He knitted his brows. “Luna, you’re so afraid of life, of living.”
“Are you mental? What’re you talking about?”
“You can name every symptom, prognosis, and treatment for any addiction.”
“Well, excuse me for indulging myself with knowledge,” I snapped and gulped the rest of the wine. “How’s that for fear?” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
A rumbling sound bubbled from Caleb’s chest, and he tilted his head back, laughing as if I had just said the funniest joke in the history of humanity.
“I don’t see a comedian,” I said, pouring more wine into my glass.
“Easy there, tiger.” He took the bottle from my hand. “You need to eat something.”
I bit my lip. A thought that had been in the back of my mind for the last few weeks had suddenly taken front seat. Would we have sex tonight?
“Here.” Caleb plopped an olive in my mouth. I chewed slowly. A salty bitterness spread across my tongue, enticing my taste buds. My mind was reeling with thoughts of us… Oh, God. My stomach flipped. I gulped another glass of wine. We were going to have sex. I must have worn my anxiety on my face because Caleb scrutinized me with a puzzled expression.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“Nothing.” I gaped at him and tilted the glass of wine.
His face beamed with a playful smile. “Are you nervous?” he teased.
I must have shook my head too quickly, because Caleb took the glass from my trembling fingers and said, “Luna, the fact that I brought you here doesn’t mean I’m trying to rush things.” He looked away, raked his hand through his already tousled hair. “I mean, I—”
“Shut up and kiss me.” I cut him off, bunched his shirt in my fingers, and pulled him to me. The wine, already giving me a buzz, also provided me with liquid courage. My only fear was that Caleb would pull back like the first time we made out in his car. I pushed away my need to overthink things and for once, I did what my instinct screamed at me to do.
I clasped his face and kissed him as if it was the last time we would be kissing. To my utter relief, Caleb responded. His hand gently, but urgently, pushed me down on my back, and he covered me with the deliciously sexy length of him.
A GOLDEN HUE from the twinkling lights tinted our little world beneath the tree. The scent of Caleb, mingled with an earthly smell, intoxicated my hazed mind. In the silence of the night, I heard the magical swish of the wind blowing the remainders of leaves on the willow tree.
Caleb propped on his elbow, his body pressing down on mine. His free hand brushed strands of hair from my face. “I’m in love with you, Luna,” he said reverently.
We stared at each other. His words made me vulnerable, terrified. I knew at that moment that, for me, it was beyond love. It was far further than the volcanic awakening inside my body.
Caleb, with his charming smile and gentle soul, enthralled me. He captured me prisoner. And I knew that I would never love or belong so wholly to anyone else. Caleb had become the core of my existence.
The awareness liberated me, and my body floated like a paper lantern sailing in space. Our kiss intensified. His tongue danced with mine in a sweet tango.
I reveled in the urgency of his desire pushing against my hips.
Caleb’s lips traveled along my cheek, kissing, sucking, and leaving a trail of heat in his wake. He bit my earlobe and kissed the sensitive spot behind my ear. My body shuddered.
“Are you cold?” he murmured against my ear, his warm breath sending another wave of shivers through my body.
Unable to produce speech, I shook my head fervently.
Realizing what he was doing to my body, he pressed his nose into my neck and chuckled, the bastard. Languidly, his lips grazed down my chest, and he planted a kiss on the swell of my breast. “You’re so beautiful,” he said against my skin.
Clumsily, my fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. The process was painfully long. He pulled back, and I slid the shirt off his magnificent shoulders. I skimmed my hands over his naked chest. His taut muscles quivered beneath my touch, empowering me to seek more. I reached for the fly on his jeans. But he held my hand. “Uh uh.”
I grunted in frustration.
“Be still, love. Tonight I’m in control of you.” He raised my hands over my head. “Keep your hands here,” he said, kissing me roughly.
I obeyed. My hands remained where he placed them.
The raw and primal authority in his voice sent a sharp jolt through my lower belly and made me squirm.
“Be still,” he admonished me. His voice vibrated against my breast right before he bit my nipple through the fabric of the dress. I moaned, the sound guttural and foreign to my ears. Desire, hot and heavy, seared through every inch of my flesh. I yearned for his touch, his kiss. My body craved him.
Caleb ignored my desperation. He flipped me on my tummy. Languidly, his fingers hooked the zipper, and he began to slide it slowly down. His lips followed his fingers, and he kissed every inch of skin he was revealing under the dress. It was torture.
After what seemed like an eternity, he lowered my arms and freed me from my dress. I wanted to turn back, but I didn’t dare move. Under the tree was a different Caleb, a different Luna. I had heard of how people changed during sex. And though I was the same, there was an unleashed side of me that wanted to submit to this domineering side of Caleb.
“Your ass is a sight to behold.” He bit the skin exposed on my backside, and then soothed the spot with a soft caress of his tongue.
He unhooked my bra and ordered, “Turn around, love.”
I complied, my body anxious to please him.
His lips languidly slid across my skin as he kissed the tattoo on my shoulder. Then he caught the strap of my bra between his teeth and moved it off my shoulder. His capable hands finished the task.
Insecurity flared up, making me bite my lip and drape my arm over my chest. With my breasts exposed, I felt bare and vulnerable. Caleb gently removed my arm and stared at my breasts with reverence. In the depth of his eyes, I saw a primal desire and veneration that dissipated any trace of fear or insecurity.
I surrendered to the moment.
“Lacy black undergarments. Did you intend to seduce me tonight?” His fingers slowly skimmed over the rim of my panties. I was panting in expectation, but Caleb continued to tantalize me with his feathery touch.
He played my body in an agonizing fluctuation between hard and soft, gentle and forceful. It drove me insane. At times, he held me as if I was breakable, a rare porcelain.
Then, like flipping a switch, his hands turned hungry and urgently seared over my skin, contouring every line and curve of my body.
His lips closed around my nipple and he sucked hard. I weaved my fingers through his hair. A loud moan escaped my throat. He released my taut nipple with a pop and gave the same attention to the other breast. His warm mouth trailed a path of fire down my tummy. I arched my body, anxious for his touch, for more of him, for relief to the burning sensation between my thighs.
He pressed a firm hand on my hip and chuckled again. “Someone is very antsy tonight.” He lowered his head and pressed his nose into my damp panties. “I can smell your arousal.” He nuzzled me. “It’s such a delicious scent.” With hooded eyes, he looked up at me. “I could come just inhaling your scent.” He drew in a deep breath as if trying to inhale the essence of me.
I swallowed hard. The crude things he was saying should have made me embarrassed, but instead I was aroused. In fact, I was about to implode. But with an uncanny discipline, I didn’t move a muscle.
I was undeniably anxious to have him inside me, in a place no one else had ever been. Yet, I willed the foreplay to prolong for eternity. I liked the relinquishment of power, of not fearing, not thinking, not having to raise guards. Just sensation and submission. Total and unequivocal surrender.
Finally, he slid my panties down my legs. He pulled back and gazed at me. I was completely bared—mind, body, and soul.
His head cocked to one side and with a slight shake of his head, he flicked his hair out of his eyes. His tongue skimmed his lip. His eyes burned through me. He studied me as someone who was staring at the mysteries of the universe being unfolded before their eyes, his expression full of wonder. “God, Luna, you’re breathtaking,” he said. “I’ll treasure every memory of tonight until the day I die.”
His burning stare turned me into a feminine, delicate, and desirable girl. My lips curved into an inviting smile.