Leaving Me Behind

by Sigal Ehrlich

  We lie on the sand down the beach from my house, both propped on our bent elbows, legs sprawled straight ahead, mere inches separating us, gazing at the dark, lazy sea.

  “So what would you like to talk about, now that we’ve got the name thing out of the way?” It’s my turn to break the silence. He gives me a look that says, “Really?” A small curve almost seemingly plays at the corner of his mouth.

  “Let’s start with basic things. For example, what brought you over here?”

  “What do you want?” I snap. Noticing his cringe, I realize I might have surprised him with my bluntness, just as I did myself.

  “Whoa, talk about right to the point, eh?”

  “What can I say, something about this . . .” I gesture with the palm of my hand from me to him and back, “just doesn’t add up for me.”

  “Why’s that?” He gazes at me with furrowed brows.

  “Really?” My eyes roll to the murky sky. “What do you want with me?”

  “What do you want with me?” He serves me back my question with a hint of an edge to his voice.

  “I wasn’t the one waiting for you at your door.”

  “No, you weren’t, unfortunately. But you were the one following me here.” Dark eyes challenge my greenish ones. He has a point. Okay, here goes. Let’s go with honesty; well, honesty without the “I’ve been fantasizing about you naked for a week” part. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt me.

  “To be honest, not much. I’m not looking for anything. You kind of crashed on me full-on, and I’m still absorbing the impact,” I say, looking ahead at the cycle the small waves make as they reach the shore and retreat. “I didn’t expect to see you again,” I add and meet his narrowed gaze with my own. He runs his eyes across my face for a beat, one that’s long enough to make me squirm some. He clears his throat.

  “Tell you how I see it. I met this attractive lady with the sexiest smile and wanted to get to know her.”

  I roll my eyes overtly this time, and he side smiles.

  “What?” His question comes through a chuckle.

  “Come on, if there’s anything happening here, whatever it is, this mutually beneficial nonverbal agreement, can we please make it a bullshit-free zone?”

  He tips his head back laughing. I can’t help but utterly enjoy his bass, hoarse laughter. It’s a beautiful mixture of virile and elating.

  “I can do that,” he affirms, still clearly amused. I motion for him with my hand to elaborate, a smile tugging on my lips.

  “This incredibly sexy lady flashed me.” He chuckles at my immediate flush. “Fortunately, I kept bumping into her. She kept occupying my thoughts, so much so that I had to make her come for me, so I went after her.”

  Why did I have to ask? I smile timidly, my gaze glued to the misty horizon.

  “Hey.” He cleans his hands, patting them on his jeans, and then cups my cheek, bringing our stares to align.

  “I’m not looking to get involved with anyone,” I say in a quiet, somewhat croaky voice.

  “Don’t worry; you will not fall in love with me. I will not let you.” He winks and his tongue moves to caress his front teeth. “You are safe with me. Trust me. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company.” He grins at me; his smile is so contagious I can’t help but mirror him.

  “Enjoy each other’s company.” I taste the words as I contemplate them.

  “So what are you doing in this charming hole?” he asks, amused by his own question. I beam and recite the same reason I’ve been using so far. The sabbatical, break, enjoy a new place. He cocks an eyebrow.

  “Didn’t we just declare a BS-free zone?” he asks with unconcealed doubt. “You sounded even less convinced than I am.”

  I take a deep breath, not sure why I’m sharing this with him, but it just feels . . . okay.

  “I needed a break . . . from everything. Quit my job, rented a house somewhere quiet, intriguing, and faraway.” I bite my cheek; it sounds even crazier saying it out loud. Something settles in his eyes, something I can’t translate. He opens his mouth to speak, but what he was about to say remains unspoken when he presses his lips together.

  “So, Sebastian Noé Balle, what’s your story besides going after women you find attractive?” I shake my head as I utter the last part. A gorgeous dimple hides inside his bristled cheek in response.

  “I’ve been living here for a few years now, but I’m originally from Barcelona. My family still lives there. I got my degree abroad, in the States, and came back to start at the bottom of the chain of our family business, which I’m now running. Sort of, as my father finally starts to let go.” His forehead creases, his stare bores ahead into the dark sea. A whole moment he seems wrapped up in his own thoughts. A whole moment in which I study his profile, admiring his handsome masculinity. His pouty parted lips, strong jaw, the rich mocha color of his skin. And those dark, absorbed eyes. He shakes his head and rises to stand. “Let’s get inside? Yes?” he asks, and I need to gather all possible control not to respond to the oh-so-asking pun. He pats his hand on his jeans to clear the sand off and takes my hand, helping me up. The pull jerks me to crash into his chest. His eyes descend into mine, and he tilts his head to feather a kiss on my lips. Something pulls at my stomach, a little flutter that comes as a big surprise. He smiles next. There’s a message inscribed between the lines that smile sends, it’s like the biblical apple, it powerfully lures you in and you know you can’t resist, but oh, the troubles it will bring.

  “Before we go that way, again… are you involved with anyone? Infidelity is a hard limit for me,” he says. There are so many reasons I like his question, it seeds a sweet notion in me.

  “The only relationship I’m in is with my coffee machine.”

  He nods with a hint of a smile and tugs me after him. I follow, willing whatever stirred my insides to disappear just as it appeared. I catch a glimpse of how the jeans encase his ass so delectably and beam. I must admit though, it’s not only this part of him, but his entire encasement that is beyond delectable. Delectable and young . . . younger than me, for sure. I decide to decipher the riddle.

  “Um, Sebastian, how old are you, anyway?”

  His eyes crinkle at the sides as he sends me a short side-glance. His lips slant a bit higher when he says, “I think you’re just a bit too late to be asking me that after you took my innocence and all.”

  Oh, God. He grins impishly, and I feign a frown.

  “Come to think of it, it was you who took anything related to innocence away from me!” He chuckles and squeezes my hand, pulling me after him en route to where there is no doubt further innocence is about to be taken away.

  “I’m twenty-eight.”

  “Oh, God.”

  He turns to look at me, and his features crunch in question. “Is there a problem?”

  “No, no problem, just excuse me while I tie a rock around my neck and walk toward the deep waters.”

  He chuckles briefly. “And why would you do that?”

  “Because it’s better than doing time for statutory rape.”

  The next rolls of laughter coming from his side are louder. He shakes his head at me, amused. “How old are you?” he asks, still somewhat elated.

  “Older.”

  He twists his mouth, in a “come on.” Or maybe more akin to a “come on, I went down on you fully dressed in a shower and now you’re holding back?”

  “As in almost five years your senior.”

  He shrugs and just pulls me to follow him faster.

  Chapter 8

  “The Way it Seems to Go”

  Rachael Yamagata

  I’m a bit thrown aback by the immediate charge that suffuses my living room as soon as we close the door behind us. It’s as if the pull we share outgrows the confined space.

  “So how did you like our wine?” Sebastian gestures with a hint of a knowing glee to the half-empty evidence on my coffee table.

  “Vivian suggested I try it,” I blabber. “Umm, it was good.
”

  He cocks an eyebrow.

  “Frankly, I’m not much of a wine person; I’m more of a sweet cocktail kind of gal. It was very good though, but I couldn’t elaborate on the taste or anything else as you experts would.”

  “I see,” he says somewhat pensive. He motions for me to take a seat at the low coffee table and settles himself on the sofa in front of me. His slightly parted legs almost touch mine. He takes the bottle and deftly removes the cork.

  “Let’s try to do it together, shall we,” he says, his voice a degree huskier. “You need to use your senses to evaluate wine, scent, taste . . .sight.” He gives me a soft, yet bluntly suggestive look. “Sight,” he says as he brings the bottle to his mouth, wraps his lips around the narrow opening, and takes a slow sip. I swallow hard, following the motion of his Adam’s apple under bristled, tanned skin. He then inclines his head toward me and cups the nape of my neck. He slightly tilts my head back and touches his mouth to mine. With the parting of my lips, his tongue reaches in, filling my mouth with warmness, wine, and an intoxicating breath. His tongue commences to stroke mine through the rich moistness; a combined sensual flesh on flesh electrifying sensation hovered by the tingling of the aromatic liquid. It skims around my tongue, letting the luscious liquid reach every part of my greedy mouth. I suck hard on his tongue, tasting the wine and him; my desire grows, and grows with every erotic stroke of his.

  “Taste,” he says low as he pulls back, lightly biting my bottom lip causing a sting that crawls all the way between my legs. “Keep your eyes closed, Liv. I’m going to do that again. I want you to suck on it, swirl it in your mouth, and try to think what flavors come to your mind.” And he does, with one hand at the nape of my neck and the other sliding to curl around my knee. Everything inside me tightens, everything around me melts, and everything about me arouses. It’s a sensory overload.

  “Open them . . . now, tell me if it’s balanced.” He kisses my lips gently. “Complex.” Another kiss. “Evolved.” A more profound one.

  Tastes like an orgasm? I close my eyes and lick my slightly pulsing lips. His hand trails slowly under the hem of my dress, holding my thigh with mild force. I lick my lips again, distracted by the touch of his hand.

  “It tastes warm and rich.”

  “Mmmhmm.” His hand sprawls, making my skin burn at the spot.

  “Fruity and sexy,” I add quietly, my eyes still closed, the edge of my lips slightly curved.

  “Keep going.” His other hand cups my cheek, and his thumb grazes my lips.

  “It tastes like something I want in my mouth again.” My eyelids slowly lift and my eyes meld into his with everything that rages inside of me.

  “Sold,” he says gruffly, with a hint of a heated smile. “Oh, and there’s the scent,” he adds next, nuzzling the area just below my ear. His hand on my thigh under my dress advances till the tips of his fingers whisper over the delicate fabric of my panties. I strangle a moan while his lips sear the skin of my neck. He murmurs, “Divine.”

  My eyes remain closed as I savor the taste of his mouth, his tongue, and his sweet, musky scent wafting around me. God, he smells like warm, rich, spicy chocolate. He smells like molten chocolate with a sprinkle of chili.

  “Take your dress off for me, Liv.” His voice reaches me, and we slowly flicker our eyes into a scorching, locked stare. He speaks to my mouth next, though it feels like he speaks to the spot between my legs as it insentiently starts pulsing in heat. “Undress for me. Stand up and slowly take your dress off.”

  Our lips hover next to each other, our breaths mixing before I rise up to stand. As I do, his hand trails from my neck, grazing over my skin till it stops on my hip.

  He tips his face up and croaks, “Take it off.”

  With my breath hitched and every part of me tense with excitement, I bring my hands to the hem of my dress and pull it up slowly. He slouches back to lean onto the sofa, further parting his legs. His eyes slowly trace over my naked, heated body. He brings his finger to the knot of his tie and pushes it in, releasing it by a small jerk to each side.

  “Your bra,” he orders quietly but firm. With my eyes trained on his, I do as ordered. As I release the satin, champagne garment to fall to the floor, he breathes gruffly, “Beautiful.” His tongue slowly skims his bottom lip, his stare even deeper on me. I feel my already swollen breasts become heavier and the sting of my nipples as they harden in need.

  “Panties.”

  And I do, slowly, feeling his stare caress over every part of me.

  “Straddle me,” he commands and the short demand comes out with a thick accent. I take a step toward him, plant one knee next to his thigh, and slowly spread to plant the other on the other side, all under his scorching gaze. His eyes lift to mine, and his lips part. He brings his palm to cup me, and I shiver and let out a breathy moan. Two fingers scrape between my folds accompanied by a throaty, “Fuck,” that leaves his lips. His stare darkens as he brings his hand between us, watching the light gleam on his fingers indicating just how much I want him. He slowly brings it to his lips and closes them around his fingers. Watching him do that causes the heat where his fingers have just marked me to increase drastically.

  “Undress me, beautiful,” he says next as he positions me with a less than gentle hold of my hips to spread over the bulge in his pants. I narrow my eyes at him and before sending my hand to his shirt’s buttons, I slightly graze over him. A unified sensual breath parts our mouths, feeling each other through the rough fabric. I release button after button of his crisp, white shirt under his gaze. Before attending to his tie, I spread the fabric to the sides after ripping it from inside his slacks to reveal a tanned, defined chest. He leans forward to shrug off his jacket and shirt at once. Wordlessly, I move to his belt, unbutton his fly, and lean in to leave hot, moist kisses on his honeyed collarbone.

  His fingers move to comb into my hair, and with a light tug that instigates a spark in my groin, he tilts my head back. Still holding my hair in a rough hold that hitches my breath, he leans me even further back. His eyes leave a trail of flames as they trace from my eyes to my lips and then to my neck where he stops and dips his head to bite my skin. That bite will surely leave a mark. It’s a bite that sends electrifying current to whisper all over my skin. As his head tips back for our eyes to level, he grabs me again by my hips and rises to stand with me.

  I blink at him as he lets his pants drop to the floor, revealing his vein ridged, thick, smooth erection. He kicks his shoes off and sends his hand to spin me around so I’m with my back to his firm chest. With me held firmly in a caged embrace, he walks us a step back to the sofa. He settles on the wide cushion, positioning me atop him. His hands slowly caress my skin till they cup each of my breasts and gently pull me back into his chest. His fingers find both my nipples and start delicately rolling them in mild force. I drop my head back to his shoulder and pant as the sweet torture heightens to the verge of pain. Gone is my stable breathing. Gone is any barrier I might have had before. Gone is any desire for what he’s doing to me to ever stop.

  “Straddle me,” he rasps. “Backward.” His words trickle down my spine and cause for a greater heat to resonate over me. I part my legs to lift one over his thigh and then do the same with the other. Once my rear plants on his crotch, he shifts some to position himself just below me. His mouth finds its way to my shoulder and starts sprinkling warm kisses toward my neck, leaving heated skin in his wake. When he nuzzles my neck below my jaw, I drop my head to the nook of his neck and close my eyes.

  He slides his warm hand under mine and whispers in my ear, “Take my hand and show me how to please you.”

  My breath catches before I respond, “You are doing a great job by yourself.”

  “Show me.” He laces his fingers with mine and starts grazing our way toward my thighs. With an accelerated heart, I take over the control of our linked hands and slowly caress my skin till together we stroke inside my thigh. “Liv, show me,” Sebastian rasps behind me, his
throaty words reverberate through his chest into my back. I close my eyes and my lips part as I slide his palm to cover my heat. I hold his fingers in mine and glide them slowly between my folds, in a lingered motion, back and forth slowly. He groans, nibbling my jaw. I continue to stroke myself with his hand while his other moves to squeeze my swelled breast. I sink his fingers into me, clutching around him, nearly desperate.

  Once I slightly lift my pelvis to better graze against his hand, a curt curse leaves his mouth against my skin. I move his thumb to circle around my clit as I push his fingers deeper into me, repeatedly, anxiously, fast, scraping harder. I pant and moan and move against his warm hand. Anxious, all inhabitations dissolving as I work my high with his hand. I pant and push him deeper. I pant and bite my lip, clutching around him tighter and tighter till I fall apart with a cry.

  As I’m still reeling from my orgasm, Sebastian hands me a condom. With my vision in a haze, I fulfill his silent command. He shifts me up next to position himself under me, and in one slow push helps me glide around him. A unified groan leaves our mouths at the contact. Slow moans follow when he leisurely starts thrusting into me. His hold on my waist tightens as he helps me dance over him. Sebastian’s lunges grow with force as he engulfs his hand around my belly and pulls me back against him. One hand is holding me tight while the other moves to stroke my clit. This guy is killing me, softly, gently, and almost impossibly shattering. We move against each other, him under me, me above him. The air around us thickens with our scents, sex, and raw, sensual hums. His breath kisses my skin accompanied by a low groan. I come around him again, melting into his hold. My eyes roll back as he holds me tight against him still moving with force in and out of me. A strained call of my name gusts out of his lips with his last slam. He drops back still holding me to his chest, and we calm our erratic breath in a quiet, sated daze.

  “What are you doing?” Sebastian tugs at the throw I’m trying to wrap around my blissfully content, naked body. My brows sink in when I pivot to look at him over my shoulder.