Lust Abroad

by Whitley Cox

  I hadn’t even realized it, but I’d been screaming. Fumbling around and stupidly trying to put the handle back on, or force the water down the drain with my hands… for a lawyer, logic in the face of chaos had escaped me.

  Incessant knocking at the door had me slipping in the tub, grappling at nothing because there wasn’t anything, no handles, nothing to grab onto, and winding up on my ass, legs spread.

  “Everything okay?” Panic and curiosity battling it out for top dog in his tone.

  “Don’t come in here!” I called, blinded by the spray while my hands slipped and slid on the tiles as I tried to gain enough momentum to push myself up.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I grunted, my eyes flying to the door and its jiggling knob. “Don’t come in here!”

  The door started to open. “I’m not looking. I swear,” he said, coming around the corner his hand over his eye. “Are you okay? I heard pipes bursting and lots of spraying water.” He tilted his head down. “And I uh… I see LOTS of water”.

  I was stuck. I whimpered. “The handle and nozzle exploded, and I fell.”

  “D-do you need help?”

  I let out a sigh. “Yes. But you’re going to have to look to see what you’re doing.”

  “I can try to cover my eyes.”

  “Move your hand, Derrick!”

  His hand slid down over his face, and his eyes took in my compromised and incredibly embarrassing state. Naked, wet and spread eagle on the tiled bathroom floor, while the water poured down on me like a rainforest afternoon monsoon. The whole room had become enveloped in a thick and steamy fog, while the floor began to resemble a public pool.

  A quick flash to my breasts and crotch, because he’s a man and, well, of course, and then he sloshed his way through the water, and his hands were under my arms, hoisting me up.

  “Here.” He righted me on my feet, his shirt and jeans getting soaked in the process, while droplets beaded on his lashes like dew on a leaf. I stumbled against him as I tripped over the ledge of the shower, falling into his arms, against his hard chest. “Whoa.”

  “Sorry,” I murmured, finding my arms up around his neck, holding on for dear life.

  Our eyes locked. “It’s okay. You, uh…you need a towel.”

  I bit my lip. “I…I think they’re all wet.”

  “Yeah.” He swallowed, realizing that my breasts were mashed against his chest, my leg wedged between his. “Wet.”

  I shook my head and blinked, breaking the spell. “We need to stop the water.”

  His eyes refocused. “Right!” And he gently let me go and stepped over the ledge and into the shower. Squeaks and groans from the pipes and some manly grunts, and suddenly the clouds parted, and the thunderstorm was over.

  He looked back over his shoulder at me, drenched from head to toe, glistening wet like a golden Adonis. His white linen shirt clung to his body while his jeans hugged him like a second skin. “We might have to move hostels,” he sighed.

  I nodded and bit my lip. “Yeah.”

  He looked down at his body and slowly started to peel away the wet layers. I swallowed as he unbuttoned his shirt, and his abs, chiseled and glowing, revealed themselves. Pecs and arms, a sexy as hell back. Holy mother of God. And then the jeans. What on earth was his angle here?

  He kicked out of them, and then there he stood, in nothing but black boxer briefs, looking like something Michelangelo had manifested in an attempt to improve on The David. And there I was, still naked. He looked at me, his pupils dilating as he raked my body with his gaze, lingering on my breasts. My nipples pearled in arousal from the intensity of his stare. I couldn’t help myself, and I continued to study him with open fascination, watching as a telltale bulge began to grow in the front of his shorts.

  “I, uh…” I licked my lips, while my eyes refused to travel back to his face.

  “Piper?"

  “Derrick?” I swallowed again. Finally, my eyes fell back on his face. His nostrils flared like a lion that had just caught the scent of an impala, while the look he gave me was pure, unadulterated need, craving.

  And then, we were on each other. Mouths crashing, while hands flew into hair, and my breasts mashed even harder against his tight chest. I leaped up onto his hips, and he ploughed us over to the counter, resting my butt on the cold, wet tile, while his teeth nipped my lips and his hands came down to caress and knead my breasts. I was breathless, struck dumb with how badly I wanted this, how badly I needed this. I needed to feel alive, and, holy hell, did Derrick make me feel alive.

  I clung to him, scratching at his back, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, and pulled him against me. His tongue wedged its way into my mouth, challenging mine to a duel, twirling and swirling around one another in a velvety acrobatic dance while our lips and teeth got in the way but also made it so much better. I mewled as his teeth found my neck, licking up the sensitive tendon, while one of his hands traveled down between us and into my folds, finding me wet, hot and needy.

  He pulled away for just a second, his eyes glassy and lips swollen. He looked adorable. “Piper…”

  I fluttered my eyelashes, having already started shamelessly bucking into his fingers. “What?”

  “I…I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  I shook my head. “You’re not. Trust me.” Please don’t ask me about my dead husband. I want an orgasm more than I want to breathe right now, and dead husbands are a serious mood killer.

  But that seemed to be enough for him, and he nodded. “Condom…in my bag.”

  I sighed. Thank God, because I didn’t have any with me. I certainly hadn’t ruled sex out on this trip, but it hadn’t been paramount on my agenda either.

  And removing his hand from my clit, where he had been rubbing little erotic circles, he scooped me back up by the butt and carried me through the bathroom and into our room, tossing me on the bed.

  Within twelve seconds he had located the condoms in his bag and was on top of me.

  “You’re sure?” he asked again, a lock of his sexy dark hair falling carelessly across his forehead. Oh, my God, he was gorgeous.

  I nodded and wrapped my legs around his pelvis, pushing up into him. “Very sure.”

  His grin stole my breath. “Well, in that case.” He quickly sat up on his knees, pulled off his boxer briefs, oh mama! And rolled on the rubber.

  I licked my bottom lip again and swallowed. The sight of a man touching himself, right before he touched me, was a weakness of mine. So primal, so hedonistic. He covered me again, his biceps and delts flexing next to my shoulders as he hovered above me, carrying all of his weight. I ached to have him inside me, ached to feel the touch of a man again, to be consumed and filled again. It’d been too long.

  Our eyes locked, and I thought for sure he was going to rear up and slam home, but instead he dipped his head and brushed his lips against mine. Sweet and light and not at all what I wanted. I needed hard and fast. It’d been too long for my dry spell to be quelled with gentle and kind. I needed nasty. I needed dirty.

  I jerked my head up and nipped his chin, laughing low in my chest at his startled gasp. But then he picked up on my vibe and nipped back. His teeth began grazing down my jaw and neck and shoulder, moving over to my nipple. He took the hard, crimson bud greedily into his mouth and sucked, pulling with his teeth and flicking with his tongue. I arched into him.

  “More,” I hummed, letting my head tilt back into the pillows and my eyes close. “More.”

  He smiled against my chest, and then moved over to the other nipple, delivering the same exquisite torture as before, pulling just enough to garner a feline mewl from my parted lips.

  “You’re so fucking hot,” he said with a snarl, lifting his head to look me in the eye again, our hips churning against one another, both of us desperate for the same thing. For the connection.

  “Fuck me! Fuck me hard and fast…please.”

  Gray eyes flared back at me, and he lifted his hips, set his
face into a determined scowl and finally, finally, drove home, sheathing himself to the hilt in one solid thrust. I let out an involuntary grunt from the impact. He was big. Not monster big, but it’d been a while since I’d been with any man at all, and this man was well-endowed to boot.

  “You okay?” His pelvis paused mid-thrust. Meanwhile, all I wanted was for him to pick up the speed and hammer me into the mattress until I was putty.

  I nodded and bucked up into him. “Yeah…it’s just…it’s been a while. Don’t stop…please don’t stop.”

  That smile. And then he did as he was told and went to task. I ground myself against him, frantic for more friction, to feel that sweet little brush of his pelvic bone against my clit, the intermittent rubbing and teasing, lulling my whole body and every nerve ending into eager submission until all I felt was good. With each dirty thrust, he split me open wider, his body claiming mine, dominating mine, possessing mine.

  Within moments I was already close, my pussy trembling with every pull and gripping him with every push. I let my hands travel down his back and ribs, exploring his body, his smooth skin, toned muscles, faint scars. I couldn’t help myself, and I let my fingers fall to his clenching butt. The taut muscle flexed and tightened with every measured thrust. I dug my nails in, and he hissed and then chuckled low and menacing against my shoulder.

  “Naughty girl… you’ll pay for that.”

  My eyes flashed wide. Would I really? Yes, please.

  He chomped down hard on my nipple in revenge, so I dug my fingers in more. He bit down again, this time nearly piercing the skin, all the while the thrusting, the hammering, the plundering never stopped. The man was a machine. Gone was the nerd spewing out facts like an encyclopedia. All that was left was a beast, a savage sex beast ravishing my body until I could no longer think about anything but how good he felt inside me.

  He chuckled low and then picked up speed, while his hand came around behind me and reached for mine, lacing our fingers together. He brought them above my head, and then did the same with the other hand, pinning me beneath him, holding onto me for dear life.

  I writhed against him, arched my back and then let go. That sweet and rhythmic brush of his pelvic bone against my clit was what did it, what pushed me over the edge into decadent oblivion.

  Bright lights flashed behind my closed lids, while his teeth found my shoulder, stifling the groans of his own release. I clenched around him, tight and hot and eager for more of him, for all of him as he pulsed inside of me.

  We lay there for a few moments, sweaty and panting, letting our brains find some semblance of equanimity again before we separated and faced reality.

  Despite the weight of him on me, pressing my pliant and satiated body into the bed, I felt lighter and more at ease than I had in nearly two years. My head was clear, and finally, my heart felt open again.

  3

  “What do you think?” I asked as we stood in line at the bank ATM. Neither of us had very many Peruvian Sols, so we both had to pull out some cash. “Do you think they’re going to get the bathroom fixed tonight? Or should we just cut our losses and go try to find somewhere else to stay?”

  He lifted one shoulder, having not bothered to do up all the buttons on his baby blue linen shirt. His chest was exposed, and I found it sexy as hell. “We’ll see what they say when we get back in an hour or so, and if they’re not overly confident, or make us go and use one of the communal bathrooms, then we’ll leave. But I’m starving, so let’s find a grocery store and grab some food.”

  I grinned up at him, and then took another leap, one of my many leaps for the day, and linked my fingers with his. He smiled down at me, pulled me close and kissed the top of my head. I untangled our hands and wrapped my arm around his waist. What the heck was going on? I’d just met this man, yet I’d already had sex with him, and we were already acting like boyfriend and girlfriend. It was so weird, and yet it felt good.

  He let me go first, and I went and pulled out three hundred dollars’ worth of Sols, preferring to take out larger sums of money and just split it up between my bags and on my person, rather than do multiple small transactions. The international banking fees and currency exchange were atrocious, so the less often I had to pay the charges, the better. I still had four hundred U.S. stashed back in my backpack inside the locked valuables cabinet in our room, but that was emergency money in case I lost my debit or credit card, and I wouldn’t touch it unless I absolutely had to.

  I waited for Derrick to do the same, and then he grabbed my hand again, and the two of us took off back outside, wandering around beautiful, modern, clean Miraflores.

  “Stop here.” His voice was commanding as he let go of my hand and took a step back, reaching into his shoulder bag and bringing out his camera.

  “Why?”

  He quirked an eyebrow at me. Was the man not accustomed to being questioned? A wry smile tugged at his lips. “Because this view is beautiful, and it’s even more beautiful with you in front of it. Smile.”

  We’d managed to find ourselves down along the water. Throngs of locals and tourists alike lined the path that ran along the edge of a giant cliff. Surfers and paragliders dotted the glittering water against the pale blue sky and children ran around half-naked on the sand down below. It was a stunning setting, welcoming and relaxing, and for the first time in my trip, I was happy I had someone to share the moment with. I had been content traveling alone this far, knowing that the only person I should have been experiencing it all with was no longer here and feeling that if I couldn’t share it with him, I shouldn’t share it with anyone.

  I wasn’t paying attention to Derrick, but he was busy snapping photos, some of me, some of the brick-colored statues in the giant circular courtyard where we’d stopped, some of children and families playing and chatting. The sun was hot; the breeze was mighty, and when a sudden gust picked up the end of my dress and my hair, sending it into a maelstrom around me, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

  I turned back to face him, and his nose was back in the book.

  “It says here, the Miraflores central plaza has flea markets and art exhibitions. Those could be cool.”

  I nodded, stopping next to a small bronze plaque and reading it. We were on the Costa Verde (green coast), and it was positively breathtaking. I inhaled the freshness of the sea air and let my shoulders relax. Even if this was just a one-time, or maybe two-times (hopefully) fling, it was freeing, and I felt the heavy weight that had been stacked on my shoulders since Ray’s death finally start to slide off. I’d always love him, always mourn him and think of him, and even though the book my mother had given me was loaded with complete bullshit, it was right about one thing, I needed to heal and move on. Ray would want me to be happy.

  “Piper?”

  I shook my head, joining reality once again.

  Derrick stared at me. He cocked his head like a curious but menacingly sexy puppy. “You okay?”

  I nodded and brushed my hair from my eyes. “Just peachy. You got all the photos you wanted to take?”

  “Come on.” There it was again, that authoritative tone. But just like before, there was a hint of a smile in his voice and a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. He stowed his camera and reached for my hand again, pulling me close and planting another affectionate kiss on my forehead. “Let’s go buy some food, head back and see how our bathroom is doing and whether it’s still a pool or not.”

  I beamed up at him. “Okay.”

  “I’m going to run up and check on our room; you want to put the food in the communal fridge?” he asked as we made our way back through the hostel doors, saying a quick hello to Gladys at the front and accepting our key back from her.

  They had a weird policy where we relinquished our room key to the front desk before we left, and then they’d give it back to us when we returned. I understood why, so that we didn’t lose it out in the city, but it’d still sent a giant ice pick down my spine when I’d had to turn the key over. I f
elt like I was handing over my privacy. But then again, the maintenance guy was going to be going in and out of there, so I had to suck it up and secure all my valuables in the small lockable chest inside the room.

  Derrick took off upstairs, making the four-story climb, while I wiped my wrist across my brow, nodded shyly at the two guys playing pool in the lounge room and opened the fridge. We hadn’t bought much — some apples and oranges, a small block of cheese and some bread, and a container of yogurt.

  The hostel advertised a free breakfast, but after having traveled through Central America, staying only in hostels, the term “complimentary breakfast” was really open to interpretation by each hostel. Some places put out big spreads with toast and eggs, sausages and pancakes, whereas others gave each person a child-size box of Frosted Flakes, a cafeteria-size carton of milk, and a couple of slices of pineapple. I wasn’t nearly as big as Derrick, but even I needed a bigger meal than that to get me through to lunch.

  “Piper!” He came back down the stairs in a red-faced panic. “It’s gone!”

  I shut the fridge. “What’s gone?”

  “Everything! It’s all gone. We’ve been robbed. Everything, your camera, my laptop, all my money, your money, my passport. Everything that we’d put in the cabinet. They busted off the lock.”

  If I hadn’t already experienced extreme devastation in my short adult life, I would have thought I was having a heart attack. The whole world became very fuzzy, color dulled, all the sound in the place quickly morphed into a harsh and unidentifiable buzzing sound, and my entire body began to shake.