by Natalie Wrye
I’m talking about the heat (that ever-present spark) that exists between him and me, an all-consuming inferno that is only temporarily tempered, but never dies. It refuses to be put out, to be snuffed—sometimes giving the appearance of being contained, mitigated or diminished, but all of those are illusions. It burns and burns and burns… until there’s nothing left to scorch. And then, only then, does it perish, consuming me with it, taking the life I’d known—the life I thought I needed with it.
Wanting Javi will most assuredly destroy me… and despite knowing this, I cannot find it in me to care.
With only a few feet between us, it felt like an ocean’s divide, and for the umpteenth time, I realize that I’ve been punishing Javi—punishing him for every inadequacy that I’ve felt over the past fifteen years, every doubt that I’ve been made to feel. I’ve placed the weight of my insecurities on his shoulders, and he had been made to pay the cost.
Because as hard as it is to admit… I trust Javi. And I haven’t trusted anyone in a long ass time. It feels different this time, more real with him… because he’s earned it.
He’s rescued me when he could have withdrawn, followed me when he could have run. He’s never taken advantage of me, never mishandled my confidence. I trust him with my body. I trust him with my life.
In fact, the only person that I really don’t trust… is myself.
It’s been so long—too long, since I have wanted a man this viscerally. The last man I’ve had any type of intimacy with just so happens to be the one person on Earth that I wish would magically combust into flames.
In all actuality, there is no comparison. I’ve never even come close to lusting this badly for any man. I sigh, holding myself tighter, attempting to banish an insidious chill. It’s a different type of cold, one that stems from the icy void of having a Javi-sized hole inside my arms. I’m so royally fucked.
And since I’m so hopelessly far gone, I might as well give into it. Let the spark between us blaze… and say to Hell with the goddamn ashes.
Get In
JAVI
Knock Knock Knock.
My eyes shoot open at the sound against my door. My body is still sore.
Sliding into the tiny robe Del’s Aunt Reba laid out on the bed, I groan again, this time out of frustration. Goddamn it. I might have forgotten another Aunt Reba rule, just one more on her vast list of many since I stepped inside her secluded house.
The quirky old woman hasn’t changed since we were kids, and I’m glad I found that extra bottle of whiskey in the back. I haven’t had a drink in ten years, desperate to avoid the alcohol-fueled fate that killed my own father. I stare at the bottle, wondering if I should risk a sip as I shrug the robe onto my shoulders, wrapping the robe loosely around my waist. I won’t concern myself with decency for the sake of such a quick visit.
I open the door to my room. I’m now face-to-face with ocean-blue irises. As if the eyes weren’t a dead giveaway, those chewed-to-a-cherry-colored lips are beet red and practically pulsating in front of my face, inviting me in. Del.
She looks nervous and almost apologetic. Her eyes are wide and darkly fringed. She looks worried, and the expression that she’s showing me is nearly giving me a heart attack from fear.
I turn the light on that I recently put out, reaching my hand out to lead Del inside my threshold. I’m so fixated on her face that I almost forget to close my robe, fumbling awkwardly with the sash to tie it tightly.
Del’s eyes follow my fingers, watching my clumsy attempts before averting to my face. She places her hands on my own, stilling my seemingly endless efforts at modesty.
Fuck the robe. Del’s in trouble; I can tell.
“I need something,” she says, confirming what I already suspected.
My voice is rushed, breathless. I rub my hand at her side, nearly checking for injuries.
“What’s going on, Del? What do you need?”
She hesitates, and I nearly explode, my chest heaving with the anticipation of what’s to come. I search her eyes, but find no answers.
“You.”
She stands quietly there, staring at me. I’m waiting for something further, but nothing comes. And then the realization of what’s she saying finally finds its mark, smacking me dead center like a bullseye.
The word is like a bomb. It detonates in my chest, creating this intense pressure that squeezes like a vice. I can’t breathe at all.
When I do inhale, the breath is painful and long. I don’t even trust my own ears to have heard correctly. I narrow my eyes at her face, as if the act itself will give me clarity.
“What are you saying, Del?”
She sighs soundly, taking a step towards me. I can smell her hair. I can smell her skin.
“I’m saying,” she continues, “that I… I need you. I’ve needed you since the moment we met. And despite fighting it, every step of the way… I’ve decided to give in. To let myself need you and to let myself want you.”
She gazes up into my face and finally I can see what I’d been missing. It wasn’t worry that was in her eyes when she showed up at my door. It was expectancy. It was her, preparing to ask a question, preparing to prompt for an answer.
The bomb that has detonated moments before has wrought its destruction, and in its aftermath, it leaves a fire. That fire sweeps through me at lightning speed, obliterating all of my doubt, leaving nothing but my own need.
I grab her waist with both hands. I let the internal blaze that she’s sparked burn into my gaze.
“Del, I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you. And what I feel now… the word ‘want’ wouldn’t even do justice.”
She grins ever so slightly, biting her already red lip. It breaks what little control I have left. I tighten my grip around her, bringing her into me and into the sudden erection that emerges every time I get to touch her. I slide its length between her legs when I realize that Del has nothing on underneath her own robe.
She is slick and wet and hot.
Del inhales sharply when she feels me, and it is all I can do not to plunge myself slowly into her sweetly soft center.
I thank God for the little miracles. Like Angie handing me a condom to go along with the admonishment she gave me when I abandoned the Marco assignment.
At the moment, it had seemed crass, but at this juncture, it is a gift-wrapped God-send. I smirk. Angie, the assistant, to the rescue. My hero.
I turn Del around so that she can follow me and then I back-peddle towards the bed. I sit down at the corner, leaving her standing so that I can place my mouth at the open space between her robe’s lapels.
She moans as I lap her skin gently, taking my time to kiss and lick my way down the line of her cleavage. Her robe’s sash is no barrier at all. I open it one-handed, pulling it from its loops and throwing it halfway across the room.
Her garment is now completely open and I can see the expanse of skin between, all the way from Del’s neck to the edges of her small toes. The expanse is as wide as my hand, and I reach my palm out to trace it. I curl my fingers around Del’s throat and then spread my fingers while my hand travels farther and farther south.
Up under her jaw. Past her collarbone. Brushing the insides of her breasts. Spanning down her stomach. Lingering at her navel. And just as my fingers start to inch gloriously towards the soft patch at her apex, my hand freezes and I look towards Del’s eager eyes.
“Are you sure, princess? You sure you want this?” I lower my voice, inserting gravity into my tone.
“Oh, yes,” she responds raspily. “Yes, I definitely do.”
I prod. “Why?”
I suddenly need to know the reason, feeling an inexplicable urge to understand.
“You saved me, Javi.” Her gaze is concentrated: appreciative. “And I never got to say thank you.” Her voice is husky.
I’m conflicted about her answer. I start to withdraw my hand.
“Del, if you think you owe me anything, I just want you to know…”
>
“Oh, God. Will you shut up?” She suddenly pushes me backwards onto the bed, taking rearward steps as soon as I hit the mattress.
“Trust me. I’m doing this more for myself than I am for you.” She smiles slyly, sliding the robe from her own small shoulders. It hits the floor.
I soak in Del, drinking in the vision of her, taking huge gulps of the view like a desert-stranded man. She’s magnificent. All of her.
Guilt suddenly materializes out of nowhere and slams into my pelvis like a sledgehammer. There’s so much that we’ve managed to share in such a small amount of time, and still so much more we need to cover. How do I tell her? How can I explain that I’ve been hiding at every interval, lying through my teeth at every single turn?
But then Del abruptly cuts the light, allowing herself to be bathed by the moonlight streaming through my bedroom window. The glow illuminates her skin, shooting sparks off each and every curve of her wavy brown hair. She’s a goddess… planted here amidst mere mortals.
I am in awe just being in her presence. I drop the self-reproach in favor of something stronger—a pure lust, some carnal craving that surpasses all else.
Her light pink nipples are hardened peaks in the center of her now-tanned, teardrop breasts. Her stomach is a flat, toned plane cinched at the middle, and her hips flare out delicately, creating silky slopes of perfect skin.
My voice is rough when I beckon to her. “Come here, princess.”
Two AM
DELILAH
Part of me doesn’t think I should be here. The other part knows I shouldn’t be.
I wouldn’t have come back… if it weren’t for what Aunt Reba said to me. She made me realize something, and in doing so, I found the courage that I needed, the strength to finally go for it.
What Javi and I have is no fluke. More like fate. And I can’t keep running from it. If it had been any other person—any other man—we wouldn’t have made it this far, and I’d be singing this song at the bottom of a body bag instead of under his watchful gaze.
It had to be just right. It had to be him. And now, it’s truly over.
There are no barriers between Javi and I anymore, no boundaries holding us back. We’re free. Free to do what we want, with who we want. The notion is terrifying… and intoxicating.
I move toward Javi slowly, my gait emboldened by the longing in his stare. It’s animalistic in its intensity, almost hunter-like in its approach. I think I like the way I look in his eyes.
“You’re staring at me as if I’m something to eat,” I say when I reach him.
He leans over from his laid-back stance, grabbing my fingertips and dragging me towards him. “That’s because you are.”
His tug is no longer a tug, but a lift and in seconds, I am sitting astride his barely-covered hips… his waist… his chest. It’s like a fun-house ride sliding down his chiseled body, a slow motion merry-go-round on top of a beautiful man.
I’m in a trance, mystified by Javi’s unpredictable finesse. By the time, I make it to his shoulders, I am finally aware of what is happening and before I can react, his mouth is on me.
I am completely naked atop Javi, straddling his face, and he is devouring my wetness with the ferocity of a starving man. His free hand clasps onto my thigh, positioning me into a vice grip.
I try to move, but it’s no use. Squirming is futile. Budging? Not an option. I throw my hand back on a loud groan, letting Javi take control of everything below my navel.
I can’t move or breathe or think. I hear myself moaning and don’t recognize my own voice. One more stroke of Javi’s tongue, and I will come apart, crumble into pieces.
“Javi, no,” I hear the strange voice say. “Don’t. Pleaaaaa… waaaaiiitttt.” But of course, he doesn’t. He buries his tongue inside of me and I explode into a million little pieces, crying out in a disembodied squeal that tapers into tiny soft whimpers.
My body convulses into one last shake; it becomes almost boneless, satiated and sapped of all energy. I reach below, grabbing his shoulder for support, afraid that I will slump into a crumpled heap at his side.
Javi shifts me suddenly, adjusting my bottom back onto his pelvis. His evergreen eyes are lust-filled—hot; they sear a scorching path along the line of me.
He twists around, reaching for the nightstand but what he’s looking for is already in my hands. I break open the seal, using both hands to roll the rubber down on him, taking the opportunity to marvel at his impressive length.
His robe is open, but not off. I swipe at it with both hands, letting my fingers explore the places that my eyes can now see. A dusting of fine dark hair covers his muscular chest. A trail of it teases from his navel to his cock. A shag of it sits at the base of his “v-lines,” and the proudness of his erection makes me want to fist a handful of it.
He watches me sightsee over his body like a tourist; his smile is playful as he witnesses my eyes widen with excitement. I’m done waiting.
I position my hips over his, looking for his approval. The way his breath hitches lets me know he agrees. I sink down slowly on his shaft and he sighs with a satisfaction that almost makes me come right there.
I whimper, wanting to slow my ascent into ecstasy. Our fit is flawless; his fullness: perfect. And I’ve never felt so complete.
His voice is gruff, nearly a growl, as he gives a thrust into me.
“Don’t come apart yet, princess. Let me show you how.”
He rocks himself upward and into me, and the sensation makes me grind my hips downward onto him, my need to feel him overriding everything else.
He’s hurt. I’m hurt. But it stops no show. We move together like a samba, a fluid rhythm like a dance. He controls the tempo, and I follow his lead, letting him take me to the peak and back down again.
Javi repositions himself, throwing his weight onto one elbow, and I can feel by the twist of his hips that this will be our finishing act.
“I’m going to let you come now, Del. Hold on tight, princess.”
The words alone are enough to undo me, but I clamp my lips, giving it all over to him. My body is not my own, and I don’t know that it ever was. In the bed of Javier Mondello, I am merely the instrument… and he plays me oh so well.
Strum me, baby. Blow me, baby. Play me just like that.
One final swirl from him, and my orgasm hits hard, shooting up from my throbbing center and out to my tingling extremities.
The warning from Javi prepares me for what my body is poised to feel… but it doesn’t prepare me for what happens to my mind. Thoughts I didn’t know existed hit the surface of my lips. I clasp a hand there to close them in. He climaxes seconds later.
I collapse on top of him finally, matching his heavy pants with my own. He’s warm and solid, a heated mattress made of muscle and flesh.
We begin to doze off in each other’s arms. For the first time since we’ve met, I actually watch Javi go peacefully to sleep. But for me? This time?
There is no rest, just the words left unsaid, marinating in my mind, steeping me deeper and deeper into turmoil.
What Lovers Do
JAVI
I’m out of my robe and back into my clothes. I change into them mere minutes after I awake.
Del’s sound asleep, swathed in sheets as tousled as her hair. I stare over her: thinking, reminiscing.
Leaving her is the last thing that I want to do. I’d honestly give a limb just to not leave her side. But… duty calls.
We’ve been in and out of sleep all night, resting in between sets. We make love. We pass out. We start the cycle again.
The breakfast spots in town are open (or so I’ve heard), and I want to have some type of sustenance in here before Del opens her eyes. She’ll be hungry when she awakes, and as long as she’ll let me, I’ll aim to please whatever desires she may have.
I, on the other hand, need nothing to eat; I now luckily have her to nibble on. A small voice interrupts my thoughts. Sleeping Beauty sleeps no more.
“You’re up,” she says, smiling drowsily. “Where are you going?”
“To satisfy that sweet tooth of yours.” I wink. She grins.
I clear my throat, leaning over the bed, making sure Del’s eyes meet with mine. I need to settle something once and for all. And to do that, I need her attention. No distractions. No misconceptions.
“I want to make something clear, Del,” I declare. She nods, sitting up straighter, and I pause, searching for words.
“This is not a passing thing: another romp in the sack. It goes deeper than that. Hell, we wouldn’t have fought it so hard if it didn’t.” I smirk, dropping it quickly. “I saw you holding back last night, hiding your voice from me. Don’t hide that from me, princess. I want all of your pleasure. The sights, the touches and the sounds. I will not be denied. Not anymore. We’ve both been denying ourselves long enough.” I look harder at her. “Do you understand?”
I expect a fight, some sort of resistance… but Tropical Storm Del is on hiatus, and this version of her is nodding meekly in my direction, biting her lip, regarding me quietly.
The urge to bite that same lip is strong, but I resist. I manage to make it to the door and outside of her dear old Aunt Reba’s cabin without ravaging her again. Score one for Team Me.
I bum a ride to town, where I pick up doughnuts and hot coffee… and little niblets for Melanie. The smell of the stash is delicious, but it holds neither flicker nor candle to what awaits me back home, and I rush through the rustic, local bakery with my belongings so that I can make it back to her as soon as humanly possible.
I struggle to stay quiet as I slip through the front door, clenching a brown bag between my teeth. I’ve burned my arm, dropped two doughnuts and still am happier than a pig in shit when I reach her door.
I open the door with three fingers, drop the food onto the nightstand, and turn around to find the bed completely empty. Del is gone and, in her place, is a note. My stomach bottoms out immediately.