by Rye Hart
I brought my head up and connected our lips again, sucking his bottom lip between my teeth. He groaned as I sat up, allowing my lips to suckle on his before our eyes connected in the middle of his apartment living room.
I released his throbbing cock as he shoved his boxers down to the floor and then quickly worked me out of my pants.
He rushed up my body and picked me up in his arms, carrying me to his bedroom. I held his gaze the entire time as my back descended to his sheets.
I watched him perch between my thighs, my legs tossed haphazardly over his shoulders. His hands crawled up my skin, electrifying me as his hands wrapped around my tits. His fingers tugged at them, forcing my head to fall back on the pillows as his tongue lapped at me.
He licked a long, thick stripe up my slit that had me moaning and writhing uncontrollably.
His tongue licked between my dripping folds and found my clit immediately. He started slowly. Languidly. Licking at it as my juices poured from between my legs. My hands ran over his head as my hips began to roll against his mouth. His hands pinned my hips to his bed, ceasing my movements as his lips puckered around my swollen nub.
My legs were shaking, and my toes were curling. With every stroke he took, he stroked a fire in my gut. That burning sensation started to encompass the whole of my body, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. His pace became faster, and his tongue pressed deeper. I was breathless as I moaned his name, chanting it like a ritualistic prayer. I was allowed small undulations, the slightest bit of control as I rolled against his tongue. His hands massaged my hips and worked their way down my thighs. He freed my movements, allowing me to buck against his lips as my heels dug into his back.
“Please, baby. Please. I’m so close. Don’t stop. Please.”
Chapter 1
Chanel
Is it too late to change my mind?
“I still can’t believe we’re going on this idiotic cruise.”
“Oh, come on. You’re a journalist. Don’t you take photos and shit?” Ana asked.
“I’m not a photojournalist, woman.”
“Well, don’t pictures have to go with your blog posts or whatever?” she asked.
“Is that really all you think I do? Write blog posts and sit around in my underwear?”
“Well, you’re always so freakin’ happy. I figured it had to be something like that. Fuck knows you’re not getting laid properly.”
“And here we go again,” I said with a sigh.
“Come on. You and I both know you fake your orgasms. All the time.”
“How the hell would you know this? You aren’t in the room when I’m having sex.”
“Oh, come on. With how tightly wound you are? And the fact that you haven’t seriously dated anyone since Rhett isn’t a coincidence.”
“I do not want to hear that name,” I said.
“And I also saw your little bag of fun you packed over there. That’s a new vibrator, isn’t it?”
“Ana!”
“Look. I get it. You’re stuck on your high school sweetheart, but seriously you gotta get off that train and find yourself a new man. Stop sleeping with those non-committal guys you meet during last call at these bars you drag me to. You deserve so much better.”
“I don’t drag you anywhere. The last time we went out, you literally rolled me out of my bed.”
“That’s what you get for giving me a key.”
“I’m gonna take it from you. Or change the locks,” I said.
“And yet, you haven’t. Face it. I’m the only source of excitement in your life, which is pathetic. The money you spent on those vibrators and butt plugs should be spent on lingerie for your man with a thick dick.”
“Get me one of those, and I’ll show you someone willing to buy lingerie. And I don’t have butt plugs.”
“Then I don’t know what the hell that other thing was in there, you nasty freak.”
The time had come for the moment which is the pinnacle of being reminded that you’re getting old. Ana’s and my ten-year high school reunion had come to pass and, like always, our class president outdid herself. Connie Thomas, the preppiest bitch to ever walk the hallways of that damn place, had asked the entire class to RSVP for a Caribbean cruise. A cruise! Who the hell takes a cruise for a ten-year class reunion?
It was just about as ridiculous as it could get.
In all fairness, high school hadn’t been completely terrible, not until the last few weeks. That was when I had my heart broken and my dreams shattered before I headed off to college.
Rhett Smith, the most beautiful high school boy to ever exist, had stolen my heart. I was a nerd of the highest proportions. Took accelerated classes like Chemistry and Calculus while he was doing things like ramming into opponents on the lacrosse field. He trained in the high school gym with his buddies and ran cross-country with his best friend, Tommy Rider. I was head over heels for him and he was the perfect boyfriend.
Things were perfect, until Rhett shattered everything.
“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Ana asked.
“Thinking about who?”
“Do I look like I was born yesterday? Rhett, duh. You’ve got that dreamy look in your eyes.”
“I don’t know about dreamy. Rhett’s the last man I should be spending any time thinking about, other than the thought of keeping my distance from him.” I said.
“Damn right! That man broke your fucking heart. He took your virginity and then fucked someone else on prom night.”
“Thank you for the rundown of the culmination of my high school career. Bitch.”
“Hey, don’t get pissy with me. We’re about to go on a nice Caribbean cruise. And we aren’t going to be the only people on this ship. I’m sure there will be lots of muscular, chiseled hunks of man meat with giant anaconda dicks to give you that big ‘O’ you’re looking for.”
“You’re relentless,” I said.
“And you’ve yet to move on romantically since high school. Rhett isn’t the only guy that can make you come, you know.”
“I’m not saying he is!”
I felt Ana’s eyes on me as I continued to pack. I wasn’t really sure what she was so concerned about. I knew Rhett was trouble just as much as her. But, she was right, I hadn’t dated since Rhett. At first, I had been too scared. And then, I’d been too busy. Then, I was too focused on my career, and before I knew it I was sleeping with random guys at the bar just to feel something.
And none of them could made me orgasm.
None of them.
“Chanel, look at me.”
I lifted my eyes to look at my best friend as she zipped up her suitcase.
“We’re going to find you someone on this ship or on these islands who can rock your world. I know once you find out another man besides that asshole can make you feel good, you’ll forget all about him.”
“I still hate him so much,” I said. “Yet, I have these damn butterflies in my stomach when I…”
“You’re fantasizing about high school, a time in our lives where we wore blue mascara, put way too much hair spray in our hair, and had horrible back acne. It wasn’t that glamorous,” Ana said.
“You had back acne?” I asked.
“You didn’t? The point is this cruise can be a fresh start for us both.”
“You just want to see if Tommy’s going to be there,” I said.
“Sorry. Your ex’s best friend was hot back then, so I’m sure he’s hot as hell now. But Rhett probably looks a wreck. I bet he’s bald and fat now. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“So, Tommy’s a stud and Rhett assumed to be a nasty piece of trash.” I asked.
“Yep. That’s karma when you break my best friend’s heart. He’ll always be that in my eyes,” she said. “Now, please tell me you have a bikini to show off that body of yours. We’re going to be sunbathing, baby!”
“I have three,” I said.
“Oh, yes. You can have a drinking bikini, a lounging a
round bikini, and a swimming bikini.”
“Can’t I just use all three for all those activities?” I asked.
“Ew. No. Girl, you still have a lot to learn about being a female. But luckily, you have me as your best friend.”
“I’m twenty-seven years old. If I don’t know how to be a girl now, then it’s not going to happen,” I said.
“You’ve got curves in all the right places, sweetheart. You’ve got that long brown hair and those light blue eyes. I see men staring at you no matter where we go. I know what’s underneath those clothes. We hit the gym every damn day. But you don’t know how to dress yourself. It’s all jeans and T-shirts and the occasional pencil skirt that looks awful on you.”
“Awful? Pencil skirts look awesome on girls with curves,” I said.
“Yes, when you’re in your thirties. But when you’re still living it up in your twenties, it’s an entirely different sense of fashion. Plus, if you’re going to win big at the auction, you’re gonna need to spice your shit up.”
I stopped what I was doing and stared at Ana. “Uh, what ‘auction’ are you referring to Ana?”
Ana smiled deviously and batted her eyelashes at me. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I signed you up for the charity date auction. You know, you get on stage and hot guys fight over who gets to spend an evening with you?”
My heart stopped in my chest and my mouth went dry. “Ana! Why the fuck would you do that?”
Ana rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Because, you need some sort of fun in your life. Plus, it’s for a good cause. All the money raised is going toward Jeff Banks’ medical bills.”
“Wait, Jeff Banks? The guy from the class below us that had cancer?” I asked.
“Yep. You don’t want to be a dick and not help your fellow man, do you?” Ana asked, knowing damn well that I couldn’t say no now.
I sighed and shook my head. “Fine,” I said.
Ana giggled and clapped her hands like a little girl. “Good. Trust me, you’re gonna thank me for this later.”
“I doubt it. Still, auction or not, I’ll stick to my jeans and T-shirts,” I said.
“For the love of fuck, please don’t tell me that’s all you packed.”
“It’s not all I packed,” I said, grinning. “I’m just playing with you.”
“So if I pull open your drawers, I’m going to see all your jeans in there?” she asked.
“I packed a couple, but it’s not the bulk of my suitcase.”
“Unzip it,” she said.
“What?”
“Open up your suitcase. I’m checking your shit.”
“It’s a good thing we don’t live together. I’d have killed you by now,” I said.
I stepped off to the side and let Ana rummage through my things. She was tossing everything I had folded and packed for myself as I rolled my eyes. I loved her to death, but we were completely different people. She was obsessed with makeup and fashion and Louis Vuitton heels, and I couldn't have cared less what I wore on a regular basis. I dressed up for work and to go out, but the rest of the time was spent in very comfortable jeans and shirts I could breathe in.
Not shirts that hiked my tits up to my chin.
Ana started rifling through my closet as I sat down. She was going to single-handedly repack me for this cruise, so I let her have at it. I had a separate backpack already in the trunk of my car, packed with jeans and my most comfortable off-the-shoulder shirts. I grinned as she packed skirts and dresses, heels I didn’t even remember purchasing, and panty sets that made me roll my eyes.
“We’re gonna get you laid on this trip. Mark my words,” Ana said.
“Have you seen the RSVP list?” I asked.
Ana sighed as she zipped up my suitcase.
“I have, yes.”
“Do you know if Rhett’s name is on it?” I asked.
“Why do you think I’m packing you all these revenge outfits?”
“So he is coming,” I said.
I felt Ana’s eyes on me as I sat back against the wall.
“Have you two spoken at all since he broke up with you?” Ana asked.
“Nope. Not one peep out of him in ten years, which was for the best, I guess. I’m just not thrilled about being trapped on a boat with him for a week. I was hoping maybe he wasn’t going to be there.”
“Even though I know you’re ready to hop on that dick?” she asked.
“I’m not ready to hop on anything,” I said. “Fuck, Ana. Is this whole thing good idea? Should we back out?”
“Hey. I upgraded our tickets on this cruise. We get all the top-shelf drinks we want. You aren’t backing out on me now. I need a drinking buddy.”
“Wait, you did what? How much did that cost? How much do I owe you?” I asked.
“Chanel, I did this for two reasons. One, we’re going to be in the Caribbean with some serious hunks. And, if Rhett is there and I have to beat his ass, then we can drink the nights away and have a bitch-a-thon. We can curse him out, you can slap his face, and then we can go have celebratory drinks and walk away with him out of your system.”
I stood and hugged the neck of my best friend.
“That’s a tad bit extreme, but I love you anyway for thinking of me,” I said.
“I love you too. Now, get that memory of your breakup out of your head. We’re about to head out for an awesome fucking cruise with shitheads we haven’t seen since high school. It’s gonna be great.”
“You and I have a very different definition of great,” I said.
But she was right. The closer we got to the date of the reunion, the more I was replaying that memory in my head. It was like a broken record, skipping on repeat. I couldn't stop it no matter how hard I fought, and the longer I stood there embracing Ana, the bigger the lump in my throat got.
“What happened that night, Chanel? You still won’t talk about it,” Ana said.
“Fuck, Ana. It was a nightmare. I still can’t belief it went down the way it did that night.”
I could remember as if it were yesterday. We planned on waiting until prom night to have sex for the first time, but the week before, we’d gone too far and ended up doing it in the back of his car, quick and dirty. I hadn’t regretted it. I loved him, and I’d been happy he’d been my first. Rhett, however, had wanted to make it up to me. We’d told our parents that we were going to stay at a friend’s house for an after party, and Rhett had his older brother rent us a hotel room and buy us a bottle of champagne. He wanted to make it a romantic night for us – or so I thought.
I shook my head and looked up at Ana. “I had gone to the bathroom and Rhett had told me to meet him in the limo, so we could go to the hotel. I was so excited, Ana.”
“I remember,” Ana said, her voice tinged with sadness.
I took a breath and continued. “When I got to the car and opened the door, Rhett was there with his pants around his ankles and some other girl I’d never seen before in his lap.
I turned and tried to run, but my damn heel got caught and I fell right on the sidewalk.”
I rubbed my knee absently, like I could still feel the pain. Part of me always would, I guess.
“Fuck, Chanel. Is that why you don’t wear heels anymore?” she asked.
“I’d never felt more weak and vulnerable in my life. I was crying on the damn sidewalk. I fucking hated that night, I hated that dress, and I hated those damn heels. I felt beautiful that night, Ana. Until he ruined it. And, all the beauty in the world didn’t matter because I still lost him.”
I panned my gaze up to my best friend as she nodded in understanding.
“Then this cruise isn’t gonna be about starting new,” she said.
“What?” I asked.
“This cruise is gonna be about reclaiming what’s rightfully yours. Chanel, we’re getting your confidence back. Plus, who knows, you might get bid on by some super-hot rich motherfucker who will rock your world.”
“Whatever,” I said.
; “You can ‘whatever’ me all the way to my car.”
“I thought we were taking mine?”
“Girl, I know you better than that. I saw that backpack in the back seat of your car. I know what’s in there. We’re taking mine. You aren’t sneaking those ratty clothes onto that damn cruise.”
“I’m not wearing heels and skirts the entire time,” I said.
“Don’t worry. You’ve got flip flops in there, and I packed you a few surprises while you were buried in your thoughts. You’ll like them, trust me. Now come on, we’re gonna be late.”
Chapter 2
Rhett
Fuck. Am I really do this?
“You ready for a fucking good time, bro?” Tommy asked.
Tom waved for the bartender to order another round of drinks for us.
“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” I said.
“Come on. You know it’s gonna be awesome. Think about all the hot chicks we went to school with. You know how hot they’re all gonna be now?” he asked.
“Or they could all be moms that let themselves go and have four kids and drink like fish just to feel young again,” I said.
“Oh, yeah. Life of the party over here. You mean to tell me we’re about to take a week-long cruise in the Caribbean, and you’re not the least bit excited?”
I shrugged my shoulders as I leaned back in my chair.
“Rhett. Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on that girl you wasted the best years of your life on,” Tommy said.
“It doesn’t matter. She probably doesn’t even remember me anyway,” I said.
“You know who I’m hung up on? That girl’s best friend. What was her name?”
“Ana?” I asked.