Sail (Wake #2)

by M. Mabie

  I had to admit, I wasn’t totally on board with the whole slow down. Of course, we took care of each other in other ways, but after a few days of just kissing and touching, we gained clarity. Our conversations weren’t about the future or the past. They were about us. Things we’d done and places we’d love to revisit—together.

  However, upon coming inside, after what I’d thought had been the end of our physical activities—not that I would complain—I was pleasantly surprised he wasn’t finished with me.

  Not by a long shot.

  I’d never realized how strong he was before that—the way he carried me into the room from the hammock. He had purpose and didn’t stop for anything. The delicate way he took his time. How he moved inside me. And, looking at him sleep, I was reminded of those things as I rolled over to grab the water.

  Casey stirred a little, probably from my movement, and mumbled what sounded like, “What are they doing here?”

  Who was they? Where was here? And who was he talking to?

  I wanted to remember to ask him about it later, but I, too, was delirious. I finished off the room temperature water and accepted I’d probably just forget. I lay back down on my belly and inched my way into the crook of his arm, smelling his scent with huge intakes of air. I fell asleep dreaming of the things we’d done.

  It was just as magical the second time.

  Tuesday, January 12, 2010

  “Wake up.”

  Two warm lips pressed against my cheek.

  I could smell the coffee like it was being waved under my nose. Trying one timid eyelid before both, I found I wasn’t too far off. He was holding my new honeybee mug and I could see the steam rising from it.

  On our first morning there, he’d somehow arranged for our coffee to come up with mugs he’d bought for us. Mine said Honeybee is Trouble and his said Lou Loves Trouble.

  I would always be his Betty, but I liked honeybee more. It was a name he’d given me and one I’d never shared with anyone else. Just him.

  I stretched and felt the repercussions of a night like the one we’d had. I was tender and sore—not only in lady land—but in my sides and abdominals. Sex with him was a workout program I could get used to.

  Casey must have seen my wince, because he said, “Are you all right?”

  I scooted back on the bed so I could sit up and take the coffee he’d brought just for me. When I was ready, he handed the mug, handle out, for me to take.

  “I’m fine. Thank you. I need this,” I told him as I leaned into the mug to sip off the first taste. “Mmmm. It’s so damn good.”

  He sat down with his cup and rubbed up and down my leg as we caffeinated ourselves.

  “Here’s my idea. We leave tomorrow, so we’ve only got a little over twenty-four hours left.” I pouted my lip at him and he pouted back saying, “I know. It sucks.”

  “Totally sucks,” I added.

  “Anyway, put that lip up. This is what we’re going to do. We’re going to order room service and eat it in the hot tub.” He sympathetically nodded and said, “That should help your vagina.” When he said vagina with a straight face. I giggled and drank my coffee.

  “What if there’s nothing wrong with my vagina?” I asked.

  “Then I didn’t do my job,” he retorted with a point of his index finger down to the organ in question. “That thing got roughed up last night and we both know it.”

  I laughed again, but bobbed for him to keep going.

  “Then we’re going to go down to the beach and lay around, after that we’re going to take a shower—together. Then we’re going to watch Spanish television—I’ll translate what I can for you.” He was so damn cute.

  “And then?”

  “Then I’m going to hit that a few more times. Maybe another shower. Maybe not. I haven’t worked it all out yet.” He smiled that full-tilt Casey grin. “Then I’m going to hit it again.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you put me off for so long. It would have been a shame to come all this way and not see anything or have any fun.” I tried to hide my playfulness by looking into my coffee. “I would have never seen the outside of this room if I’d have had my way on our first night.”

  “Well, I hope you saw everything you needed to,” he said, “because for the next day, you’re all mine. And I’m fucking you anywhere and everywhere I want.”

  Who could argue with that?

  Casey made good on his promise.

  We ate breakfast in the monstrous Jacuzzi and then we fucked on the side of it. He was right about it making me feel better. Even though my vagina wasn’t in as rough a condition as he’d like to have thought, it was tender. By the time we got out of the whirlpool, it was better.

  We had sex and laughed and laughed while we had sex, which I didn’t know was possible. But when you’re getting a lesson in dirty talking, midway through having sex on the floor of your hotel room, and your lover keeps saying, “You take that cock,” like a cheesy porn star? Sometimes the only thing you can do is laugh.

  It was my favorite twenty-four hours in Costa Rica. It replenished me and was just the fuel I needed to make sure I got back to him as fast as I possibly could.

  Not just for the great sex, but because he was such a good friend. My best friend.

  Wednesday, January 13, 2010

  I FLEW TO COSTA Rica with my lover and left with my best friend, who happened to be the best damn lover I’d ever known.

  “I think I’ll get a hotel room for the night when we get to San Francisco,” she said. Her voice didn’t sound as if she’d had a preference one way or the other about it. And I wasn’t sure either.

  Before responding, I mulled it over. What was the right thing to say? We’d had a fantastic vacation, but here we were flying back to reality—whatever that was—and we weren’t sure how to go about it. I hadn’t said anything for longer than was cool and it was my fault she had an overnight layover. I’d booked the damn flights.

  It really sucked to think about, but maybe it wasn’t the worst thing if she stayed in a hotel. Then, I thought maybe I should stay there with her.

  Neutral territory.

  Somewhere she hadn’t left me.

  Somewhere I didn’t dream nearly every night about having sex with her, while everyone we knew watched. Including her soon-to-be ex-husband.

  But I didn’t want her to be alone, either. I’d miss her and that was the truth. Having her back in my bed—in my house—then having to sleep there without her, wasn’t an option and I knew it would hurt her to hear it.

  She sat by the window on our flight back to the States and I watched as she looked at the clouds and the water below us. I searched her expression for nerves. For apprehension. I looked for her many tells.

  She wasn’t chewing on her lip.

  She was quiet, but appeared comfortable with the silence.

  Her brow was relaxed and her breaths were long and easy.

  The sun had kissed her skin everywhere—thanks to our tiny private beach—and the color made her look refreshed and well. Her cheeks were a little pink, as was her nose, which really fucked me up. Being in the sun so much over the past few days, I couldn’t tell whether she was turned on or just getting a burn.

  I leaned closer to her so I could look out the window, too. Her hair still held that clean smell of the ocean and since she hadn’t blow-dried it in days, it was wavy and natural. Just like the rest of her.

  My eyes went to her lap looking at her hand, and when she noticed, she took mine and laced our fingers together. I gazed down at them. I couldn’t believe that, until then, I hadn’t noticed. Her fingers looked like normal fingers, pretty little unpainted fingernails on every one of her short digits.

  “Did you get a hand transplant I didn’t know about?” I said, teasing her as I rubbed my free hand over her fingers. Testing to see if what I saw and what I felt were actually the same thing. But it was true. I’d never seen her nails look anything but mauled, sore, and torn to shit. There were no
bites taken from the skin around them and the nails had grown out a little with pretty white tips.

  “No, why?” She laughed at me and then we studied them together.

  “Because, Blake, it’s the first time I’ve ever seen them where they don’t look painful.” I brought each one to my mouth and kissed them. “They still smell the same, no pungent smell to repel a hungry mouth.” I playfully bit at one and talked, with it between my teeth. “They still taste the same.”

  “Hey, give me those. No biting,” she scolded, an easy smile on her tanned face.

  “So what gives? Were you hypnotized? Have you been listening to those better yourself while you sleep tapes? Wait…” I pulled away from her. “Did you see a witch doctor?”

  “Fuck you and no. I just stopped biting them. I don’t know why.” She splayed her other hand out in front so she could show me all ten. “I just stopped.”

  “How do you just stop something like that?”

  “I guess I’m not that nervous anymore. I think that’s why I was doing it. When I’m stressed or freaking out, I bite them. I just haven’t felt the need, I guess.”

  Her eyes were chocolate brown and she looked content.

  “Can I have a kiss?” she requested. She could have whatever she wanted. She looked so loveable and pretty leaning toward me. Eyes closed. Lips puckered.

  My mouth went of its own accord; I was just along for the ride. Her lips were salty from the pretzels we’d shared earlier and, as I tasted them, she parted her lips for more. Her tongue slipped into my mouth and fooled around with mine. Soft and friendly. Everything in the moment felt right.

  We were thirty-five thousand feet above the Earth and at home all at once.

  My hand found her cheek. She moaned when I snuck my hand under the hair around the back of her neck to pull her closer. We were seconds from being a little too friendly for company. But as luck had it, we were in the back seat of first class and a barrier separated us from the rest of the passengers.

  She pulled away enough to say, “You better stop.” Then she kissed me again before adding, “In a minute.”

  “You better stop. Or maybe…” and I gave her a pervy grin and waggled my eyebrows. The subtext was blow job. Even though I knew she wouldn’t, it was still fun to make her squirm. She pretended to be shocked, and maybe somewhat offended, then she paired our mouths again and spoke into our kiss.

  “In the bathroom?” she whispered.

  Dirty girl.

  She thought I’d meant a quickie in the john. I hadn’t, but I liked where her mind was.

  “No, right here,” I whispered. Even though she was thinking about sex, and I was at first only alluding to a hummer. I was curious if she was serious.

  I might have to book us another flight. And soon.

  If a gentleman walked a girl to the door for a kiss, I wondered what I could get if I accompanied her back on her flight the next day?

  Then, I came to myself and found my mind in the gutter with hers. And by gutter, I meant fantasizing about being smashed up in a tiny airplane bathroom—which was only feet away—pumping her full of Air-cock One and making her scream my name.

  “Here?” She flushed in all the right places and confirmed that even a sunburned nose could turn noticeably pinker.

  “Well, maybe not everything right here, but you could…” Then I coughed to avoid saying the rest out loud. I kissed her again like I had ownership of her lips. The slight moaning coming from her propelled my fantasy into a plan. It would have been a messy plan, but shit we always were good at messy.

  “Want to stay at the hotel with me?” she asked, as I slowed our kiss so we wouldn’t get scolded. I wiped the corners of her mouth with my thumb.

  “Yes.”

  “That was fast.”

  “Well, I want to stay with you. There’s not that much to think about.”

  Again, she looked out the window as she said, “I know staying at your house isn’t right yet. I also know we’ll get there.” She looked back into my eyes. “I don’t deserve to be there, but I will soon, Casey.” The confidence in her posture and voice sold me. I didn’t have to be painfully truthful and tell her I couldn’t have her at my house yet. She just knew.

  She wasn’t fucking around anymore, either.

  That week she’d been open and transparent. The part that confused me was how calm she was about all of it. In the past, any time facing what we were, or what we wanted, turned her into a basket-case. She’d think one thing when she was with me and then as soon as I was out of sight, it felt like I was also out of mind. Deep down, I knew that wasn’t completely true, but then again she married the fucking idiot.

  “You’re freaking me out a little,” I told her. “I don’t know this Blake. So Sure. Decided.”

  “I know, right?” She beamed, but underneath there was something revealing she hadn’t expected it from herself either. “I told you. I’m done with all of that. I’m not making a decision anymore. It’s made. It’s you. I don’t care what I have to do, how long it takes or who doesn’t like it. It isn’t their life and it—sure as hell—isn’t their business.”

  Her lips chastely touched mine again and the overhead light, indicating we needed to have our seat belts on and our tray tables back to their upright positions, came on with a resounding ding.

  We straightened up and Blake put away the magazine she’d had out for the ride. As she tidied the space we’d shared for the last too many hours, and collected the empty water bottles preparing to hand them to the attendant, she said, “I’m not hiding how I feel anymore. I’m not scared of anyone finding out.”

  She tossed the trash into the bag as the middle-aged flight attendant passed. Then she looked down at her nails.

  “I guess I’m not biting these because I’m not worried.” She faced me as she said, “What could happen that hasn’t already? I’m caught. Red-handed in the cookie jar. I’m getting a divorce. I’m moving into my own place again and I’m getting a second—hell, probably a fifteenth—chance with you. I’m excited. I feel free.”

  I didn’t know what to say, except, “Okay, then. Rock and roll.” It was lame, but I felt stunned.

  Then she relaxed into the seat and yawned to combat the pressure she was feeling as we descended into San Francisco.

  We lay in the hotel bed facing each other, both tired from the travel. Her fingers trailed up and down my arm.

  “We should have just gone to my place,” I said lazily. “It was stupid getting a hotel room when I live thirty minutes from here.” I reached for her, moving my hand to her ass, pulling her naked body closer to mine.

  “It’s fine. I get it.”

  But did she? I wondered what she thought about me not inviting her over. There was no way she knew about the dream I had almost every night. The one where she says Grant’s name while we’re having sex in my bed. As stupid and unreasonable as it was, that played a big part of it. Maybe deep down I knew I wouldn’t feel safe with her there if she was still married, even as hell bent as she was on following through with the divorce.

  “What do you get, honeybee?”

  “You know. The last time I was there I left you.” Blake’s fingers trailed up my neck and it caused a shiver to slip down my back. Then she held my cheeks in her hand. “I’m sorry I’ve hurt you. I hurt me, too. The truth is, I don’t want to go back until I can stay.”

  “So you’re moving in?” I said as I squeezed her perfectly round butt.

  “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

  “That’s what I meant. You can move in,” I said and licked her nose. “When you’re ready. If you want to.”

  “You’ve got all of this planned out then? And don’t lick my face.”

  I went to lick again and she dodged me. “Yep. I can’t be one-hundred percent sure, but I like to think I can see where this is headed. And let me tell you what, there’s a lot of licking in your future.”

  Her laugh bellowed and she pulled her face awa
y again, but I got her anyway.

  “Stop. No licking my face,” she giggled and squirmed.

  “Come here. Just one more taste.” I reached for her with my tongue and she kissed the tip of it with silly puckered lips.

  We both knew where the innuendo was headed and that made it all the more fun. Who would be the one to make it cliché? I couldn’t hold out much longer and the fire in her pretty eyes said she couldn’t either.

  “As much as I’d love to let you lick me, I believe I owe you a…” then she coughed, omitting the actual words, referring to my unspoken request for a little something-something back on the plane.

  “You know? I think you’re right,” I said, as I rolled onto my back and laced my fingers behind my head. I was ready for the reward for my good behavior.

  “Then you’ll owe me,” she sweetly negotiated on her way down the bed, pulling the sheet down exposing my obvious agreement to her proposal.

  “Do you accept frequent flier miles?” I asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Oh. A cash-only girl, huh?”

  She playfully slapped the side of my leg with one hand and gripped me tightly with the other, warning, “You’re about to ruin this for yourself, Lou.”

  “Then name your price.”

  “I’m sure you’ll come up with something. It appears you’re good for it,” she said as she licked the head of my dick.

  I could already feel that familiar fullness growing in my balls. Her mouth was a con artist. Looking sweet and innocent, all the while knowing exactly what to do to get what she wanted out of me. The sexy scoundrel took the whole length of me in one sinful dip of her head.

  “Take everything I have. You can have it all. Just don’t stop,” I pleaded. “Ever.”

  Thursday, January 14, 2010

  WOULD LEAVING HIM EVER stop feeling so wrong?

  Casey rode to the airport, and even stood in line with me, while I waited for my turn to print my boarding pass and check my bags at the ticket counter.

  “You know, you don’t have to stay. I’ve done this before,” I teased.