I lean into him, but I can’t stop thinking of the many, many times he’s heard me masturbate. When I imagine the sheer volume of orgasms I’ve had since meeting Ben I am appropriately shamed, and yet I only feel that way because he’s aware of my insatiable cravings. He must think I’m some sex-crazed lunatic, coming over here and jumping his bones without any consideration for what it will do to us in the long run.
“Hey,” he says, pulling away, rubbing my shoulder. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Nothing. I’m good.”
Be cool. I’m cool. No panic happening here.
“If everything is good then why are your eyes shut tight like raisins?”
“My eyes don’t look like raisins.” I glance away so he can’t see my raisin eyes, my humiliation levels reaching peak mortification. Why can’t we go back to the sex? That didn’t involve self-consciousness.
“They do when they’re all scrunched up like that.” He dips his head down to catch my gaze. “Please look at me?”
Faye, thy name is avoidance, and the worst part is he knows it. Ben sees through my every hesitation and far away stare. He understands me. Hell, one time I stopped listening to him on the train and when he poked me to get my attention he correctly guessed I’d been daydreaming about donuts. When I asked him how he knew, he said we’d passed a new donut shop on the walk to BART and my eyes had gone as wide as a cartoon’s.
Ben notices me. He sees me. And it’s unnerving as hell. And awesome. And my heart and head are fighting for the title of most confused and uncertain body part with stakes in Faye’s sexual relationships.
“You having second thoughts?” He sits back on his heels, his mouth tightening in resignation. “That’s fine.”
It’s really not fine. He does not look fine. He looks as bunched up as my insides are.
“You came over, and I thought, this is it. She wants me. And I was so excited, I mean, I thought you were indifferent to me all this time then I heard you through the wall and it gave me a tiny shard of hope you might want me.”
“I—I—” The words get stuck in my throat, though a million thoughts race through my mind.
I want to say I’m embarrassed you’ve heard how greedy I am. I don’t want you to think I only see you as a sex object, and yet I’m terrified to ask for more. I can’t ask for more because it will complicate everything. I’ve done complication and have always come out worse for it.
The words are trapped inside and they’re not going anywhere.
He’s fidgeting, rubbing his head rapidly and pushing out long breaths. He gets this way when he thinks he’s done something wrong or offended me.
“This can stop right here,” he says abruptly. “If you’re going along just to please me, I don’t want that for us. Don’t choose something easy because it will spare our feelings. I’ll take it and, yeah, accepting your indifference is gonna hurt, but I value you too much to allow any space for regrets.”
It’s astounding how naturally he makes my happiness and well-being a priority. An unconditional respect shines through every tiny gesture and consideration.
As much as it hurts to get the words out I can’t let him drown anymore. He’s too good for me.
“How can you think I’m indifferent?” I shoot the words out like a cannonball. “Have you not seen me tripping over myself to act like a normal person around you? I had to restrain myself from inviting you over when we first met.” Only for Ben could I ever be this honest.
My blunt confession makes him pause, his expression openmouthed, shocked confusion.
“Wait, you...when we first met? All this time you were attracted to me?”
“I took one look at you and had to keep myself from visibly salivating. Every window we pass on our walk is an opportunity to look at my reflection and mop up drool.”
“That’s not—you’ve always been friendly and funny, but you’ve never flirted or hinted that you might want me. I didn’t feel like I could make a move until you came to me tonight.”
“Are you kidding? Do I need to remind you about all the masturbating?” I briefly glance at the ceiling in order to have some sort of respite while confessing. “So much masturbating, and while you were—” I wave at his groin, unable to say it, mortified that I even have to bring this up. But it’s happening, damn it. We’re clearing the air, and then we’re having sex. Done and done.
“While I was screwing a girl to satisfy my insatiable libido?” he supplies in a way I can only describe as saucy, and in a split second I’m at ease, laughing.
“She paled in comparison,” he continues. “Nothing of your intellect or your passion for your work.” And suddenly he isn’t joking anymore, he’s speaking with conviction. “Every time you tell me about what’s happening at your office I get so envious I don’t work in the nonprofit sector. I want a cause to fight for, I just...”
I cup his face, understanding.
“You support your parents with your job, don’t be ashamed of that.”
He leans into me, breathing against my skin until his eyes snap open, something intense staring back. “You’ve wanted me all along?”
“Maybe,” I mumble, because a full admission of my desire is too much, too soon. I’m also just scared shitless.
“I could have kissed you so many times over the past few months.”
He looks astounded. He keeps shaking his head and looking every which way, searching for a reason he’s wasted this time. It’s endearing and fortifying.
“Why didn’t you?” I have to ask.
He takes my hand, rubbing his thumb along my palm, reigniting a simple yet sensational contact.
“I couldn’t be sure you wanted it and I would not put you in a position to make you uneasy. If I ever did that, it would be far worse than your indifference.”
I’m flattered and gratified for the care he takes for me, going out of his way to make me relaxed, to make sure I don’t feel pressured, even if it’s just for the sake of mind-blowing sex.
Knowing someone wants me, this particular someone, is the greatest aphrodisiac in the world. And damn if aphrodisiacs don’t allow me to shed my pointless shame and anxiety and just be brave.
I lower my voice, and whisper, “You know, I have vibrators that are more silent than the one you heard. I only pull that loud one out on occasion. I use the others way more.”
“How often did you use them?”
My lips brush his ear.
“Since meeting you? Every. Single. Night.”
“Fuck that.”
He takes my hand and drags me into the bedroom. It’s warmer than the living area, the chill from the A/C having dissipated quicker. The space is scantly decorated, a king bed, grey sheets, a dresser and a mirror hanging on the wall next to the windows. No pictures or art or plant life. I want to ask why but I’m thrown on the bed without a care.
“Hey—”
I bounce, landing on my back, my stomach flipping like I’m on the downhill slide of a rollercoaster.
“Did you just toss me?”
“I did,” he says, crawling over me, grinning, taking in my body with open need. “Is that okay?”
I’m too distracted by his flexing abs and pectorals to answer. Then a pair of biceps is on either side of my face, and I can’t decide which to look at. Or lick.
“Faye.” His soft baritone brings me back to those eyes, honey eyes that warm the soul. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
I’m swept away by the honest need in his gaze and am overcome by the devastating force of his being.
I wrap my arms around his neck and bring him down, aligning our bodies, heart to heart.
“Take me,” I say against his lips, giving him everything I’ve got, more than I even give myself.
His spicy, masculine scent is all I can smell. His mouth, and the d
ark hint of beer and cinnamon, all I can taste. I grip his perfectly formed ass. He mumbles my name into my mouth, his eyes tracking over every inch of me.
Ben hitches my leg around his waist, checking in with me once more. I grab the thick organ in response and line him up with my pussy. He pushes in, slow, aware of how tight I am.
“How do I compare to the vibrator?” he asks, a smirk on his face.
I laugh, but it melts away as he pushes far inside. I dig my fingers into his sweat-slicked skin, the heat from our bodies and the warmth of the room combining to wreck us in more ways than one.
He starts to move, slow at first, then picking up the pace as I stretch to take him. His lips never stray far from mine and I relish every kiss, every thrust.
“Yes, baby. Take my big cock.”
I do, I nearly swallow him down deep into me. I order him to fuck me harder, to get as far inside as he can. I beg him to stretch and pound me, to make me scream. He does all of that and more.
“Can you come like this?” he asks, his face a muddle of twisted concentration.
I shake my head, then move one of his hands over my clit to show him what I need. “Flick it.”
He adjusts, making it easier to prop himself up, fuck me and touch me, all at the same time. He executes it perfectly, again proving he was always more than the simple, engaging, sexy neighbor I pinned him as.
“There’s so much more,” I mumble against his mouth, aware I’ve said the words out loud only when I hear them.
“All night.” He picks up the pace, his skin slapping against mine. “We have all night and so much more.”
So much more?
I can’t force the words out as his fingers hit my clit in just the right way and then I’m coming. I’m squeezing him tight, holding him inside me.
“Oh, fuck yes. Right there, you’re so tight. Come on my cock, Faye.”
He buries his face in my neck and trembles against me. The hot spurts of his come burst inside me, mixing with what we’ve made together.
I wrap my legs around Ben’s waist, not wanting to feel the loss of him. Why did he say so much more? Does he think this will be more than one night? He’s wanted me and I’ve wanted him...but I didn’t think it would be more than sex. That’s what we both wanted, isn’t it? I came over here to get him out of my system, to scratch this unbearable itch so we can go back to how things were.
We did it. It’s done. So what now?
Should I go?
Feeling his body trembling on top of mine, I don’t want to go. A different kind of heat has increased inside me, one I started to feel long before the shower incident. One I know I’ve been denying.
Maybe I should go. Rip the bandage off and suffer a quick jab of pain. That’s all it will be.
I shimmy underneath him, attempting to squirm my way out.
“Stay still,” he says, his voice a low and startling growl.
“What’s wrong?” Did I hurt him?
“I think...this has never happened to me before. Oh, fuck, I need—”
“What? Tell me.” I stroke his back, alarmed by his tone.
He pulls away from my neck, looks down at me in furious astonishment.
“I’m still hard.”
He proves the veracity of his statement by pulling out to the tip and thrusting back in. My oversensitive tissues explode with awareness.
“I need to keep going,” he pants, fucking me while pleading with me at the same time. Dominant and sweet, all wrapped into one sexy package. “Can I?”
I can feel myself gushing all over again, equally messed up by my need for him.
“Yes, but not like this.”
I push him over, forcing him onto his back, then sit up, bracing my arms against his chest, and start to rise and fall, rolling my hips with each wave of movement.
“Faye.” He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. They roam from my breasts, to my hips, my ass, my shoulders then finally my clit.
I bite my lip, holding in a moan so loud it might set off car alarms.
“Don’t hide from me,” he says. He plucks my lip from between my teeth. “I’m not on the other side of the wall. I’m here.”
I come down on him hard and he groans, shaking his head. “I need more. I need faster.”
He pulls me down to his chest and takes control of our movements, fucking into me with short, sharp smacks. His hands grip my ass, moving me on him. I’m sobbing from the intense pressure, the force of his thrusts too much for me to protest or regulate, and I don’t want to. His cock skims that elusive place inside me, teasing and taunting all at once.
“Ben, I need to come but I can’t—”
“I’m gonna come, baby, then I’ll take care of you. I promise. I promise.”
His orgasm sends tremors through his body, my name a hoarse prayer on his lips. His hips spasm against me, the touch of hair at his groin scraping against mine, a visceral, real moment I always thought out of our grasp.
And it might only be for one night, but we’re here together, and I’m going to live in it as long as it lasts.
We catch our breath and his softened length slips out of me, followed by a sticky sensation down my thighs.
“I feel it all, my come and your wetness dripping out of you.”
“Let me go wash up.”
“No, wait. Move up, brace yourself on the headboard.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I want to see you come again.”
“You don’t have to do that. I feel amazing.”
“I want to. I love hearing and watching you orgasm. C’mon, don’t make me break my promise.”
I climb over his chest and position myself directly over his mouth, holding on to the slats in the headboard. He eats at me with less urgency then before. He takes his time, building the orgasm up to a rolling, plummeting force. When all I’m left with is aftershocks, he tumbles me to the bed and spoons me from behind.
“I can stay like this forever. With you, a world in darkness.”
That sounds more like the man I’ve come to know, honest yet poetic. Passionate when in the moment.
“Me too,” I whisper.
I could remain in darkness with him forever, pushing aside reality until the world crumbles around us.
But of course, the power comes back on.
Chapter Three
Staying Cool
“I should go.”
“Why?”
“The blackout’s over, I can...I don’t know. I just feel like I should go.”
He considers me for a second before asking, “Do you want to go?”
I don’t have a response, so I shrug, always unsure of what it is I really want. If I stay, what does that say about me? Does it mean I want him? Does it mean I want more sex? Does it mean this is more than an evening of fantasies fulfilled on a hot summer night?
Luckily, he doesn’t wait for me to answer.
“You don’t have A/C in your place, why don’t you stay here? It’s still crazy hot out. You should bring your cats over so they can sit in the chilled air too.”
My stomach flips.
“You don’t mean that.”
He laughs. “Yeah I do.”
“They’ll get cat fur everywhere.”
“Better that than the little monsters overheating. C’mon, I’ll help bring them over.”
Without another word we dress—he gives me a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt to slip on—and we bring the cats over, locking them in his bedroom with some food and one of the litter boxes. His room is still warm—and probably smells of sex, poor things—but considerably cooler than any spot in my apartment. They meow quizzically at me as I close the door, affronted at being locked away.
“I’m just as confused as you guys are.”
&
nbsp; I find him in the kitchen, a light pair of shorts all that’s keeping me from delicious full Ben nakedness.
“You hungry?” He tugs a bag of chips from the cupboard. “How about a snack?”
Not knowing what he expects from me the rest of night, I’m at a loss for words, my kryptonite taking over. “Sure.”
He glances up curiously but keeps talking. “Should we watch a movie? Maybe the new horror film that’s streaming? It would be extremely apropos if the lights went off again at a really tense moment.”
“One can only wish for that kind of movie magic ambiance.” I can’t look at his bare chest a moment longer, the taut lines of his abs begging me to touch and taste. The sheer beauty of him steals my words, makes me think how inadequate I am when next to him. Instead I focus on a string hanging off the borrowed shirt, try to tug it off.
“Maybe we can watch a Vikings episode, gotta love some pillaging and conquering.”
“That one’s good too.” I can’t get the string off, so I wrap it around my finger and tug harder.
“There’s actually a new documentary about bestiality I’m super interested in.”
“Yeah, that sounds great.” I look up at him, horrified, hearing the words. “Wait, what?”
He’s leaning against the counter, arms crossed, causing them to flex and grow. How are his muscles that big? No wonder he likes Vikings. He is a Viking. A modern day, intelligent, sexy Viking who eats pussy like it’s his job.
“Am I more interesting than that string now?”
I punch his shoulder lightly, chuckling despite myself. “Sorry, I was distracted.”
“I understand, strings are the height of shiny distractions, especially when talking to the man you just fucked into next week.”
I feel the heat bloom in my cheeks. “I did not do that.”
His smile is slow, seductive. His hands come around my waist and in a flash I’m wrapping mine around his neck, wanting to be as close to him as possible, needing to feel the heat from his bare skin against me.
“Baby, I’m so strung out on you I don’t think I’ll ever get over this addiction.”
“Very smooth, Mr. Matus.” I rub my hands over his chest, trip along the tips of his nipples. He blows out a long breath.
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