“Like this,” I whispered, and I pressed my lips against his. In that moment my feet completely subsided. He pulled me into his arms and then his body was pressed against my body and I remembered everything that I had missed so much about him.
Vince ran his hands up and down the contours of my body and I could tell that he was feeling the same way. We couldn't do this again, of course we couldn't, but there was no reason why the two of us couldn't savor this moment together.
He deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue between my lips and working magic like he always did. My body trembled as I was reminded of the immense pleasure that I had felt when he had eaten me out. Would he do that again? I could only hope.
Vince pulled away just a bit, so that our lips were inches apart. He smiled at me and I felt my heart fluttering my chest. Why did that smile have to be so damn perfect? Even when I was mad at him his smile always caught me off guard.
“You wanna move this upstairs?” he asked and I shook my head. Upstairs was the last place that I wanted to go. Too many associations, most of them bad. I wanted a clean slate.
“No, let's stay here.”
Luckily Vince's living room had a large white rug laid out in front of the fire. It was soft and furry and felt wonderful against my naked skin. Vince had removed my clothes so that I was only in my lingerie and now he was on top of me, kissing me all over.
“You're so fucking sexy,” he said. I felt myself blushing. Guys had called me sexy before and it had never registered with me, but when Vince said it I felt good.
I watched him kiss down my body until her got to my panties. More than anything I just wanted him to rip them off and do whatever he wanted to me, but he enjoyed teasing me way too much. He kissed my lower stomach and around my thighs. Every touch of his lips against my skin aroused me more than the last. He even kissed me through my panties, which drove me crazy.
Vince finally pulled my panties off and tossed them aside. I was more turned on than I had ever been and he noticed right away.
“Wow, you're all worked up,” he smirked. I glared at him.
“Like you aren't rock hard right now,” I sniffed. I expected him to argue back but instead he gave me sly smile before he began to lick my pussy. His tongue was amazing, moving in and out and stimulating just the right places. It was like he knew my body better than I did. My back arched and I moaned as he continued to pleasure me perfectly.
The sensation became even more intense when Vince slipped two of his fingers inside me. I cried out at the new insertion though it felt incredible. He began to finger me as his tongue continued to hit all the right spots. I felt my muscles tensing and knew it wouldn't be long before I reached my climax, though I desperately tried to hold off.
Vince obviously realized that I was trying to resist, because he started to speed up his pace. Soon, there was no going back. I screamed out at the overwhelming sensation and gave in as the pleasure tingled through every part of my body. Vince just looked on with a proud smile on his face, enjoying the sight of my orgasm.
“Fuck, I love seeing you cum. It makes me so hard,” he said, as I regained my composure. I looked up at the sexy man kneeling over me and though I had just had a wonderful orgasm, I knew I wasn't finished yet. I needed him inside me, and soon.
“Shut up and fuck me,” I breathed. Vince didn't need convincing. He ripped off his shirt and quickly undid his jeans and pulled out his cock. I only realized when he did how much I had missed the sight of it.
I spread my legs for him and watched him lean forward, supporting himself on one hand, his hard cock held in the other. He teased me by rubbing it against my clit just a little bit, a big smile on his face.
“Baby, stop,” I moaned in frustration, “It's not fair when you tease me like that.”
Vince did as he was told for once in his life. He stopped teasing me and pressed the tip of his cock inside of my entrance. I waited impatiently as he pressed himself into me, inch by delicious inch. I urged him to go faster but he wouldn't be rushed. By the time that his cock was fully enveloped by the wet, warm walls of my pussy I was desperate to be fucked.
Vince moved inside me, just once and slowly, but it felt good. He moved his hips once again and waited for my reaction, scanning my face for any signs of discomfort. It was sweet that he cared about that I supposed. When he saw that I was enjoying it his movements became more steady.
Every slow thrust felt like a shock to my system and made me long for the next one.
“Faster,” I pleaded. I saw a gleam flash in his bright eyes and suddenly he grabbed my legs and threw them over his shoulders. The fucking became fast and rough. He slammed into me at this new, intense angle and all I could do was scream and beg for more. His cock felt so big inside me, so incredible. I knew I was being loud now but I didn't give a fuck.
For a while he continued to fuck me like that, holding a tight grip on my ankles as he did. Just as I felt myself coming close to another orgasm Vince pulled out and grinned at me.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, “What the fuck?” He shushed me.
“We're not done yet. Get on your hands and knees baby doll,” he said. He hadn't called me baby doll since the night I nearly killed him. Right now I wasn't sure that I would get through tonight without killing him, especially if he didn't let me orgasm. Still, I didn't correct him, nor did I argue with his instructions. I got on all fours and looked back at him. Vince seemed to be enjoying the view of my ass.
“Well? You gonna fuck me or you just gonna stare at my booty all day?” I asked and he laughed. “I'd be happy with either,” he said. To my relief, he grabbed my hips and slid inside me once again. He grunted at the new tightness of this angle and the way my ass felt pressed against his body. I moaned too and decided in that very second that this was my favorite position of all time. Especially if it was Vince who was behind me.
He began to build up speed once again and soon his fingers were digging into my hips. To my surprise, he pulled me into a kneeling position as he fucked me from behind. I soon figured out that it was so he could whisper in my ear and play with my breasts as he fucked me.
“Shit, I missed this,” he whispered, his lips inches from my ear, “You taste so fucking good by the way.”
He trailed his hand from my breast, down the front of my body until he was rubbing my pussy. This, combined with the way that he was fucking me from behind, felt absolutely amazing. I knew that I couldn't hold on anymore. He knew it too.
“It's OK. Cum for me baby, you can cum now,” he said. I wasn't told twice. I felt my pussy tighten around his cock and proceeded to have the most intense orgasm I'd ever had as he continued to fuck me. It lasted longer too, so long that by the time Vince came inside me I was still reeling from it. The two of us laid out next to the fire, my head on his tattooed chest and his arm around me. It was strange to have him practically cuddle me like that but the two of us were so dazed from the incredible sex we had just had that we didn't question it. When I eventually came to my senses I still
didn't question it, because I didn't want it to end. I loved being held. I loved the way it felt to have Vince hold me. Maybe I even loved Vince, but I didn't let my mind wander down that winding path. I just stayed quiet and enjoyed it for as long as I could. He spoke before I did.
“Why does this always happen?” he asked, staring at the ceiling. I dared to move closer to him. “Because we're two good looking people who have great sex together?” I suggested. Vince shook his head.
“No. Well, yes. You are good looking. I am too, I guess. But that's not it. There are millions of hot girls in the world. Why is it only you who fucks my head up like this?” he said. He turned to look at me but didn't take his hands off of me.
“Because I hit you with my car,” I said, touching the place where his head had been bleeding. It was only a small scar now. You couldn't even see it, but I could feel it when I ran my hands through his hair. He flinched at my touch, “I'm sorry, does it still hurt?”
“Just when you poke it like that,” he said. Vince's eyes suddenly widened as if he was seeing me for the first time. He took his arms away so he wasn't holding me anymore. It was inevitable, but it still hurt, “You might wanna get moving. Traffic gets pretty bad around here after nine. If you're gonna make it home fast then you should probably go.”
I swallowed, feeling tears pricking at my eyes. I wasn't feeling brave, but I forced myself to say something.
“Can't I stay here?” I asked. Vince seemed surprised by my question. He opened his mouth and I was sure that he was about to say yes, but then he changed his mind.
“I'm really not feeling good.”
We both knew it was a lie but I didn't call him out on it. I had to go. Who did I think I was kidding? Vince was a no good player and I had known it all along. All of those stupid self-help dating guides that Janey and Allison bought me for every birthday since we were teenagers had been right. Only idiots slept with guys on the first date and expected them to stick around. Wait, Vince and I hadn't even had a date together. I decided that the rule should be changed to only idiots sleep with guys at
the first car accident.
The two of us pulled our clothes back on without looking at each other. Our moment of intimacy had ended and now it was time to go. I picked up my interview notes and my cell phone and looked at Vince.
“Thanks for the interview and the help with the photo shoot. Really, it means a lot. I'll leave you alone now,” I said. I thought it was what he wanted to hear but he looked sad, as if my words had really hurt him somehow. I refrained from feeling guilty. In order for my words to hurt Vince he would have to be able to feel emotions. I still doubted that was the case.
“Wait Lola. Please,” he sighed, “I don't do the boyfriend thing usually. Like, ever. It's not me, OK? But for you...”
He trailed off and just looked at me. I didn't want to hear the end of the sentence. I couldn't bear it. Why would I agree to be Vince's relationship guinea pig. Some people I'd known in college had experimented by sleeping with the same sex or having threesomes. Vince's idea of experimenting was having a monogamous relationship. I didn't want to be the one he tested that idea on, and I certainly didn't want to be the one who made him realize that it wasn't for him. I shook my head and felt a few tears trickling down my face.
“No. Let's just leave things as they are, can we?” I asked. I didn't wait for Vince's answer and made my way to the garage without saying anything else. I waited in the car for five minutes on the off chance that he might come talk to me. He didn't.
He didn't follow me.
Chapter Nine
Vince
Lola and I couldn't see each other without something crazy happening. Whether we were screaming at each other or fucking each other's brains out, something had to go down. It just seemed to happen every time without fail. It only occurred to me when Lola left my house with tears in her eyes that this might have been the last time any of that ever happened between us. It was not a nice thought. Having sex by my open fire had been incredible and I'd enjoyed every second of it. Based on the noises that she was making, Lola enjoyed it too. I'd always taken pride in my skills in the bedroom but this was different. Lola's orgasms were even more enjoyable an experience for me than my own ones. When I was inside her I felt like every part of me was connected to every part of her. I hated when people called fucking 'making love' but that was what fucking Lola felt like. Making love. I held her in my arms after we finished and realized in my orgasm induced stupor that I wouldn't care if I never fucked another woman again. As long as I had Lola.
I suppose that was the thought that made me panic. These past few weeks had been so strange and I hadn't felt like myself at all. Seeing the same girl multiple times, working tirelessly on a fashion photo shoot, none of it was me. None of it was the old me, anyway. I just wasn't sure that I liked the new me all that much.
Asking Lola to leave was a dick move but it was the only way that I could get my thoughts straight. I needed to be alone, to reevaluate. Brett and I were business partners but he didn't mind when every so often I told him to fuck off while I was working on a big project. I liked my space. I liked to think.
It was only when Lola ran out on me that I realized what I had done. She thought that I didn't want to see her again. I should have followed her but I knew if I did that I would say the wrong thing. Instead I just sat on my sofa for a while, smoking a cigarette and staring at the carpet on which we had just made love together. This would all work out. It would have to. I needed that girl in my life like fish need water. I would have to tell her, no show her what I wanted.
I just had to figure out what the hell it was.
Lola
Breakups always hurt a little more when you're not expecting them. I got home to a teary voice mail from Allison, who had just found out that Chad cheated on her with that bitchy girl from her Pilates class.
“I didn't tell Janey yet because I know she would be a judgmental bitch about it. You're always so understanding, Lola. I hope we can talk soon,” she said, through tears. I wrote a post-it to remind myself to give her a call.
Vince and I hadn't been a couple so you couldn't really call it a break up. I saw it coming from a mile off so it certainly wasn't a surprise. Yet it still hurt.
I ran a bath for myself and filled it with pink bubbles. I lit a few candles and slipped into the warm, soothing water. It would have been perfect if I didn't have to write up that stupid interview that had barely happened.
I listened to the recording but it was no help. There was nothing that I could use, unless I wanted to do a two page spread on how much Vince and I argued. Somehow I knew that wouldn't appeal to Jennifer, forget the wider public. He had given me permission to make up my answers, so I took him up on that. I typed out beautifully eloquent responses to my questions, all of them knowledgeable and detailed enough to take up space but not detailed enough to be boring. They were the answers that he should have given me, but couldn't. It seemed that there were a lot of things that he couldn't give to me.
I ran a quick spell check and formatted them so that they looked presentable. I attached them to an email and sent them straight to Jennifer as a draft. My message read Dear Jennifer, here's your interview. Sorry for all the confusion, but I think it turned out all right in the end. See you soon, Lola. In the past I would have awaited her response with baited breath, but tonight I didn't care. I put the phone aside and sank into my bubbles. The overwhelmingly sweet strawberry scent of them managed to block out any negative thoughts for a while, which I was eternally grateful for. As long as bubble baths existed I would be OK.
I stewed in the hot water until it was lukewarm and the last bubble popped. Then I resigned myself to facing reality again. I stood up and dried myself off, picking up my cell phone to check for a response. Jennifer's cell phone was constantly in hand so it wasn't like I'd be waiting long. True to form, she had emailed me back. All it said was Good Work -J. It felt kind of like getting a gold sticker for your drawing in per-school, but I would take it.
I couldn't afford to be picky any more.
Vince
My thinking went on for a while. I knew it wouldn't be fair to reach out to Lola until I was a hundred percent sure what it was that I wanted. I knew by her face that she wasn't happy playing this weird game anymore. To tell the truth, neither was I. We needed to know where we were going, though I had no idea.
I cleared my head the only way I knew how -working on bikes. It was a good week for it too, as it seemed that Brett and I had more customers than ever. Business was good. I kept busy. That was all I needed.
On Tuesday afternoon Brett stood in front of me, munching on a meatball sub.
“You want some of this?” he asked, his mouth grotesquely full of meat and marinara sauce. I shook my head and continued the paint job that I was working on.
“Nah buddy, I'm good. Gotta get these flames done,” I said. I must have painted well over
one hundred flames on one hundred different bikes since the shop had opened, but I never got tired of it. Besides, it was nice to have something to focus on. It left no room for any other niggling thoughts. “Did you take a break today?” he asked. I shook my head again, wishing that he would fuck off. The smell of meatballs was making me queasy.
“No,” I said, “But I'm good.”
“You didn't take a break yesterday either,” he said. He was starting to sound like my mother. I looked up at him.
“Are you fuckin serious right now? Do you count how many times I go to take a shit too?” I snapped. Brett shrugged.
“You gotta take breaks. Go get yourself a sandwich or a slice of pizza or something. Besides, those flames are starting to look kinda shitty to me,” he said. I looked at them. They were perfect, but I wondered if I was seeing them wrong. Now that he mentioned it, I was feeling pretty famished. Maybe that was affecting my work.
“All right,” I gave in, “I'll go grab something, but you better not touch these flames, all right? If you do I'll crack your giant head open!”
Brett waved his hand in dismissed, obviously not bothered by my threat. At this stage he was used to it.
I washed the paint off of my hands, grabbed my brown leather jacket and headed to the nearest store. I wasn't in the mood for anything fancy, so the supermarket Deli on the next block sounded like a good choice to me. I ordered a sandwich, roast beef, mustard and lettuce on white bread. As I was waiting in line to pay I grabbed myself a bottle of soda and a pack of gum just in case. The queue was long today. It seemed I'd hit the lunch time rush. I glanced at the magazines to see if there was anything of interest, but the motorcycle magazines were too high up for me to see. Right alongside all the titty mags, but I wasn't desperate enough to want them either. The only magazines that were at eye level were the fashion ones. I glanced at them to see if I could recognize any of the models or actresses on the cover. I was surprised when the only face that I knew was Josh, that jack off from the photo shoot. It was the new issue of Lola's magazine, Catwalk. Josh was on the cover, sitting on one of my custom motorcycle jobs and pouting in bondage gear as a skinny blonde draped herself over him like a coat. I knew I had to grab a copy.
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