Hopeful

by Louise Bay

  “A certain level?”

  “Yes, a certain level.”

  “Maybe I want things at a new level.”

  “Ava … I want you so badly, but I don’t want you to feel … ” he whispered sitting up and cupping my face in his hands.

  “Joel, I’m trying pretty hard to seduce you, and I’m starting to feel silly. I don’t know how else to show you that my body is begging for you.”

  He pulled his face toward me and crushed his lips to mine. He fell back, pulling me with him, my body on his. “Can you make this outfit your study uniform?” he growled into my ear while pulling his hands up my thighs, under my skirt and finding my underwear. “I love how it’s so tight on you. Your breasts are bursting out of the top. But I only want you to wear it for me from now on.”

  “In private study sessions?” I asked.

  “Yup. Like this one.”

  He rolled me over to my back and lay on his side facing me, trailing his hand up and down my thigh, stopping just short of my underwear, looking at me. I closed my eyes as his hand traveled up, wishing it higher.

  “Look at me, Ava.”

  I opened my eyes into his and without hesitation I reached for the top of my dress and pushed it slowly down my body, revealing my breasts, my stomach, my waist, my underwear, my legs. I tossed the dress away.

  “Do you have anything?” I asked, unsure of how to ask. “I mean, I’ve been tested and I have the pill … but …”

  Joel looked at me, “I do and, I’ve been tested, too. I’m fine, and I’ve never—not without something—but with you, it’s different. I don’t want anything between us.”

  I nodded. “Me neither.”

  Joel took a deep breath. I took his hand from my leg and moved it up to my breast.

  “You are so perfect, Ava.” He cupped my breast and inched forward. He took my bottom lip between his teeth and bit me slightly. He continued to palm my breast, his flesh against mine. I reached for him, but he shifted away from me. He dipped his head to my neck and created a path of kisses between my breasts, down to my stomach. When he got to my underwear he licked a line above their hem, leaving my skin hot and desperate. I wanted him to rip them off, for him to bury himself in me. But Joel was right—he was a patient man.

  I threw my head back, and he brought his hands to my hips and dragged my underwear slowly, tantalizingly, down to expose my sex. The coolness of the room’s air mixed with the anticipation of what was to come made me shiver. I could feel his breath on my thighs. He was so close to me, to that part of me. I heard him suck air into his lungs and the thought of him breathing me in, smelling me and my arousal for him, made me moan.

  He responded by bending my legs and pushing them apart.

  “Joel.” Suddenly I felt exposed, on display. I moved my knees together.

  “No, Ava. I want to see you. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” He gently parted my knees again and I covered my eyes with my arm, embarrassed. “Don’t look away, Ava. You should see how much I love to look at you. I can already see you glistening for me.” His words added to my arousal. “You’re right, your body is begging for me. You are so ready.”

  His fingers began to rhythmically stroke the insides of my legs, stopping inches away from my sex. It was torture. I wanted to feel him, there. But Joel was in no rush. His fingers were replaced by his tongue and he slowly made his way from my ankle up my leg, stopping to taste the sensitive flesh at the back of my knee, moving up my inner thigh, up, up, up, and then he stopped just before he got where I wanted him, where I needed him. I threw my hands onto the mattress in frustration and I felt him smile against my skin. He moved his attention to my other leg and repeated the delicious torture. I tried to grab him; I needed him to know what I needed, but just as I thought it would be too much to bear, I felt his breath on me.

  “So beautiful, Ava.”

  Then I felt his tongue on me. Softly, almost not touching me, just a fraction heavier than the air.

  “Oh, Joel.” My hands found his hair and I pushed them into his unruly waves and bucked under him.

  He pushed his tongue flat against my clitoris and stopped until I stilled. And then gently he pushed against me, down, deeper. I felt the warmness in my belly spread across my stomach, through my limbs, up my spine. What was he doing to me, I’d never felt this … pleasure, yes, but more than that … it was connection … it was intimacy. I was giving myself to him and it felt right.

  Any embarrassment, any shyness had been replaced by sheer desire. His tongue flicked and pushed and circled and it became too much. I thrust my hips upward and he caught my bottom in the air. He pulled me forward, onto him, his tongue thrusting and pushing into me, twisting and turning. And his fingers, his fingers were on my clitoris, rubbing, circling. Oh yes. I could feel that warmness turn to fiery heat.

  “Joel. I’m … Joel.” It was all I could manage as my orgasm gripped me. I tore at the sheets beneath me and my body went rigid as the waves washed through me.

  I slumped into the bed and I felt Joel’s tongue trailing up my stomach.

  “You are so sexy when you come. So open, so out of control.”

  He was right. Being with him, I let him into every corner of my body and brain. This was not about me being in control, getting things done. This was about me wanting him and not having any choice but to give myself to him.

  I brought my hands around his back and realized that at some point he had taken his shirt off. I opened my eyes to find him looking in mine. He leaned forward and kissed me briefly on the lips, but I held him to me and deepened the kiss. I tasted myself on him. It was a secret between us. This was how I tasted.

  I pushed my hands down and found the waistband of his jeans. I wanted his body next to mine. Skin touching skin. Flesh touching flesh.

  “You know this is it for me. You’re it for me,” he said in my ear as I unbuckled his belt. I nodded. I did know. I knew this, what we were about to do, had the power to end it for me, and he felt it, too. Maybe that’s why he’d held me back for so long. Maybe it was as much about him protecting himself as him protecting me. Even before tonight, I knew that I would never be the same after Joel. It would be forever about him. I didn’t want—I wouldn’t want—anything else, whatever happened.

  Joel kicked his jeans off and we lay there side by side, stroking each other’s contours, watching each other’s fascination with the other. I loved the way his shoulders rounded into his arms. I was mesmerized by his hard chest and how it reminded me of the beach, like wet, ridged sand. He trailed his fingers along the seam separating my breasts, my nipples pebbled, around my waist and down to my bottom.

  I pulled my eyes from him and looked between us. He shifted toward me, just slightly, but it was enough for me to know that he wanted more. He wanted me. I reached down and grasped him, thick in my fist. His breath caught. And he grasped my wrist.

  “Let me go. I have to take this slow or I won’t last long.”

  I did as he asked and brought my hands to his shoulders. He pushed me gently to my back and kissed me, keeping his eyes locked with mine. I felt him against my stomach. The anticipation was almost too much. This may not have been the first time I’d had sex, but it was the first time I’d been intimate with a man, and the first time a man had been intimate with me.

  Intimate.

  Open.

  Raw.

  Bound, forever.

  With his forearms either side of my head, he lifted himself over me, hovering. I parted my legs, bringing my knees up to lead him to where I wanted him to go. He nudged at my entrance and looked at me, asking me if I was sure, if I was ready. In answer, I pushed my hips to his.

  “Oh, baby.” His eyes closed as he pushed inside, just a fraction.

  “More, Joel.”

  He pulled out suddenly.

  “Fuck,” he hissed. “I don’t know …”

  “Joel, I want you inside me.” I grabbed his bottom and pulled him toward me, but he resisted. />
  “Lie still, Ava,” he said. I released my hands from his bottom and brought them up his back. Then quickly, without warning, he buried himself deep in me, pushing my legs further apart.

  I was winded by the feeling of fullness that overcame me.

  “You are so tight, Ava, so good,” he whispered into my neck as he pulled out. I grabbed onto his shoulders.

  His words released something in me and I moved, swaying my hips deeper into the mattress. He mirrored me and pulled out and we found our rhythm. Both desperate to be closer, deeper.

  A dullness in my core started to rumble and I cried out. “Joel, yes.” I grabbed at him, but not able to tell him what I felt—not understanding it myself—I put my mouth on his shoulder and pushed my teeth into his skin. He cried out and I bit harder. I felt his fingertips at my hips, pressing into me, into the soft skin. I hoped they would leave a mark, a branding on me.

  The rumbling in my core spread slowly at first, and then it gathered pace, pushing into every atom of me. And the feel of Joel buried deep inside me, his fingers on me, his breath covering me, my senses were all his. I felt myself break apart in slow motion under him. He bent forward to kiss me. I silently screamed into his mouth, desperate for him to feel what I felt right at that moment.

  He pulled out from me and I lay there, loose, boneless.

  My eyes closed, I felt Joel lick the throbbing pulse in my neck as if trying to tame it. It did the opposite. I tried to lift my arm, to stroke his chest, but I had no movement. I felt him move to the side of me, pulling my limp body toward him, my back to his torso. He pushed my top knee up, so my legs parted and I felt him enter me.

  Right. Up. To. The. Hilt.

  Oh, Christ. I reached my arm around to his head pushed my fingers through his hair, twisting so I could watch his face. He was right there, in this moment with me, behind me, pushing into me, taking me. It was oh-so-slow, oh so right.

  “You are delicious,” he said. “Every beautiful part of you, delicious.”

  He grabbed my breasts, dragging his thumbs across my nipples. What was that? That sensation that he found there, with just the right amount of pressure. His hips circled behind me and I pushed back, forcing him deeper into me.

  “Be careful, Ava. I’m close. I want you with me when I go.” I was almost there. I pulled his arm from my breast down to my stomach.

  “Touch me,” I whispered. “Please, Joel.” I pushed his hand further down and his fingers found my clitoris.

  “Like this, baby? Is this what you like?” I nodded. “Talk to me. Tell me what you like.”

  “I like your fingers exploring me.”

  “You do? Do you like me to feel how silky wet you are?”

  I nodded. “Yes.” That familiar buzz was reverberating across my body.

  “What else?”

  “You inside me,” I gasped.

  “Inside you, like this.” He brought his other arm under and across my body and he held my shoulder as he pushed deeper into me. “You like feeling so full of me?”

  Words were beyond me.

  He increased the rhythm of his body behind me, and his fingers pushed harder around my nub. A film of sweat coated our bodies, providing a shield between us and the rest of the world. I bucked beneath him but he kept me held tight, held close to him, pulling away only to drive deeper. I felt an unraveling in my stomach and I …

  “Joel …”

  I was there, juddering around him, clenching him, my climax pulling his from him.

  “Ava,” he moaned, and I felt him pour himself into me.

  We stayed lying there, connected, knowing things had shifted forever. Afraid that moving might shift things back. I wanted to stay right there, in that moment. Nothing could ever be that perfect again. I was sure of it.

  Chapter Eight

  Present

  After a sleepless night, I texted Jules to say I would pop over at 11 a.m. to look at outfits for an hour if she promised to take me to a boozy brunch. Having thought of nothing else all night, I reasoned that if I helped Jules pick out an outfit, I could make sure it would be something Joel wouldn’t like.

  Was that entirely selfish? Yup.

  Was I entirely ok with that? Yup.

  Desperate times called for desperate measures. The thought of the love of my life dating one of my closest friends was just too horrifying.

  “So, how was Will? Did he leave this morning?” Jules looked horrific, hungover.

  “He canceled dinner. I spent the night in.”

  “Oh, you should have come out with us. We had such a fantastic night!” My heart sank. Had she gone out with Adam and Joel? “We ended up at that karaoke bar in Soho. Oh my god!” She clamped her hands over her mouth. “I just remembered. I snogged that hot guy in Finance.” Oh yes, that was right, it had been a work thing that she went to last night. I tried to hide my relief.

  “What hot guy?”

  “You know—the wheatgrass man.” Jules set her sights on him when he first started about six months ago, but had convinced herself that he was gay because he hadn’t responded to any of her flirting. This was a good thing, a very good thing. It might take the focus off Joel for a bit. Or forever. The wheatgrass man might be The One for Jules.

  “So, I was thinking about short and sexy for Tuesday. What do you think?” Jules interrupted my mental planning of her wedding with wheatgrass guy.

  “Oh, so you’re still going on Tuesday.”

  “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Oh, you know, you kissing wheatgrass guy, I just thought …”

  Jules started laughing. “Come on. This is Joel Wentworth. I’m not giving up a dinner with Joel Wentworth because I kissed some guy in Finance.” What did she mean Joel Wentworth? “So short and sexy?”

  “I guess,” I said helpfully. “Let’s see what you had in mind.”

  Jules looked amazing in short and sexy. “Is it too much?” she asked. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. She looked amazing in most things. What was I thinking? That I was going to convince Jules to look hideous when she went to dinner with Joel? I’m not sure Jules could even look hideous if she tried.

  “Too much for what? Where are you going?”

  “He hasn’t said where he’s taking me, but it’s bound to be nice, right? I mean, he’s loaded.” I cringed at her reference to his money. That wasn’t what he was about.

  “I suppose so. Are you serious about this thing with him?” I asked, desperate for her to say no.

  “I think maybe this is too much.” She pulled off the sequined, one-shoulder dress and flung it at me before she dove back into her closet.

  “So?”

  “This would be good.” She was ignoring me. I couldn’t tell if she was doing so on purpose. She pulled on some bright green jeans. I was pretty sure my Joel would hate them. I wasn’t sure about Eight Years Later Joel. Despite myself, I shook my head.

  “I don’t know if I’m serious about him. I really like him. He’s rich and gorgeous. We’ll have dinner, I’ll see if he’s good in bed. I don’t have to decide now, do I?”

  She would see if he was good in bed? Perhaps I should just tell her that we had a thing and then the girl code would kick in and she wouldn’t be able to sleep with him. Is that how girl code worked?

  “No. I guess not.” I wished I liked Will more. I was going to make more of an effort with him. I pulled out my phone from my jeans pocket.

  “Who are you texting?” She was pulling on a blue dress.

  “Will.”

  “You must have it bad. Is he good in bed?” Perhaps she hadn’t believed me yesterday when I said I didn’t get laid.

  Now it was time for me to ignore her.

  Sorry about last night. Are you around this evening?

  “Were you lying when you said he canceled? Did you actually shag all night? Is that why you’re in such a grump today?”

  “I’m not in a grump.”

  “Well, you’re not sweetness and ligh
t either, are you? I would have thought you’d be in a permanent good mood now you’re getting some.”

  What was the obsession with my sex life? Was it weird that I hadn’t slept with Will yet?

  “Do you want to meet him?”

  She stopped what she was doing and looked at me. “Will?”

  “Yes Will, who did you think I meant, my window cleaner?”

  “Wow.”

  “What wow?”

  “Yes of course we want to meet him. When? Where?”

  “Who are ‘we’?” I wasn’t sure why I asked. I knew the answer, I was sure there would have been discussion about Will when I wasn’t around. Me dating would be big news.

  “We. Your friends.”

  “Dinner maybe. Next week or something.”

  “Are you going to marry this guy?”

  “Jesus, it’s dinner, Jules, not a wedding.”

  Past

  “So I’ll see you in a few weeks, I guess,” Joel said as we were walking back from the library on the last day of term.

  “I’ll see you tonight, though?” I panicked at the thought of not seeing him every day. I worried that whatever he saw in me would suddenly disappear when we left this place. Our perfect spell would be broken.

  “Yes, of course, but Adam’s crashing over with Daniel so this is …” he didn’t finish his sentence. He meant this was our last time in our bubble, just us. My stomach churned. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t look at him.

  As we arrived at our block, Joel’s fingers brushed mine between us and instead of flinching as I normally did if he ever touched me in public, I brushed against him. “I’ll see you tonight, Ava, and then again for New Year’s Eve. And we can talk on the phone.” I nodded. It wasn’t the same.

  That evening, in preparation for the end of semester party, I wore the dress I wore on our first night together. As I slipped it on, I remembered him peeling it off me, kissing every inch of exposed flesh. I wanted him to remember. I wanted to remember.

  “Wow, you look great, Ava.” Jules bounced into my room carrying two plastic glasses, containing a clear liquid I didn’t think was water judging on Jules’ good mood.