by Lesley Jones
“Right now, so very human.”
She combs her fingers through my hair, pulls my face into her chest, and arches her back. I hold on to her hips as we rock against each other and I suck on her nipple.
“Oh fuck, Koa.”
“That feel good, baby?”
“The best.”
I move to her other nipple, I don’t know if it’s the freezing cold air or what I’m doing to her, but they’re both like bullets. I blow warm air across her skin and feel her shudder.
“There’s a perfectly good bed upstairs, shall we take this inside?”
“If that’s what you want. Bed or spa, I don’t think I’m gonna have any trouble getting off.”
Her honesty causes me to chuckle. I stand with her wrapped around me and step out of the hot tub, and make my way through the house to her bedroom.
I gently lay her on the bed.
I lean in and peel off her bikini bottoms. I love the fact that Gracie’s pussy isn’t completely bare, it’s not a look I’ve ever been fond of. The landing strip of short, dark blonde hair is perfect, and I bury my nose and mouth between her legs.
And then I stop.
I look straight up Gracie’s body as she looks down at me.
“What?”
The look on her face turns from one of reverence to something more complicated...Pained? Panicked? She’s wondering what the fuck is wrong, and I’m wondering how the fuck I’m going to tell her.
I close my eyes, roll off her and onto my back, and groan.
“What the actual fuck?” she asks
“God damn it, Essex. I forgot the fucking condoms.”
Now, it’s her turn to let out a groan.
“I’m clean, Gracie,” I offer. “You’ve got my word on that. Not had sex without protection since my wife.” I reach out, take hold of her hand, and squeeze.
“But I’m not on the pill,” she reminds me.
I roll back over on top of her, and the words are out before I even consider their implications.
“I’ll pull out.”
“You’ll pull out?” she repeats. “Are you fucking mad? Last week, you told me that you were looking for no-strings sex and zero commitment, now you wanna have unprotected sex with a girl that’s not even on the pill? Are you even serious right now, Cowboy?”
“As a heart attack, Gracie.”
“No, it’s not worth the risk.”
Unbidden, the image of a very pregnant Gracie once again pops into my head, and I have to close my eyes and consciously force the image down before I go too far down that path.
“Where’s the risk if I’m gonna pull out?”
“No. Not going there. What if I end up pregnant?”
“You won’t.”
“How’d you know that?”
“I’ll pull out, and then we’ll take a shower straight after.”
“If it were that easy, Koa, the morning after pill would never have needed to have been invented.”
“That’s it, we’ll go into town tomorrow, head to the pharmacy and get the—”
“Stop talking, Koa. Stop talking right now.” She cuts me off.
It’s a good thing because I have no fucking clue where these thoughts and the words that I keep spewing are even coming from.
I don’t know myself right now.
This is what she does to me.
I let out a long sigh, get up, and go around to Gracie’s side of the bed. I lean in and kiss her gently on the nose and mouth.
“I’m sorry. That was selfish. My brain cells are obviously all in my dick at the moment. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
I kiss her again, this time on each nipple, because they’re there, and I can.
“Get under the covers, Gracie, you’ll get cold here without me keeping you warm. I’ll be back soon.”
“Drive careful,” she calls, as I head for the door.
“Always,” I call back.
I FEEL ASHAMED OF MYSELF. What a seriously dick move I just pulled, trying to convince Gracie to have unprotected sex with me. What the fuck was I thinking? And then to suggest that we just go for it and get her fixed up with the morning after pill tomorrow? Fuck. Me!
I actually groan as I tear along the dark empty roads at a speed barely safe enough not to spin out at any of the bends.
Gracie’s comment about ‘literally dying for a shag’ wasn’t exactly appreciated when I locked myself out in the snow the other night. I’d lost all trace of my sense of humour when I thought my dick and balls were gonna freeze off, especially when she started making her wisecracks and then telling me that she took a shower while I was facing a sub-zero, untimely, very naked and icy, death. Tonight, though, with thoughts of her lying naked in my cabin, waiting on my return, I allow myself to chuckle at her funny, if slightly warped and wicked, sense of humour.
I park outside the gas station and run inside, leaving the engine of my truck running. I empty the shelves of every pack of Trojan Bare Skins in XL that they have, and that’s when I spot the flowers. The choice is limited. I’m at a gas station in the middle of winter. It's a Wednesday night, just a few days out from a three-day snowstorm, but I take everything they have. I then hunt down the biggest box of chocolates I can find, ignoring the fact that they’re in a heart-shaped box and what Gracie might think about that. I take everything to the register.
The woman behind the desk looks down at my purchases and then up at me before smiling. I know her face from growing up here, but not well enough to put a name to it.
“If you’re hoping to get lucky, put the box of Whitman’s back. They’re two days from being outta date and taste like shit. On that end cap over there are smaller boxes we got in especially from Belgium for the holidays. Smaller box gonna cost you twice as much. Size ain’t always everything, though.” She holds up one of the boxes of condoms as if to make her point.
“A lady’ll prefer quality over quantity in most things in this life, whether it be chocolates or dick. Besides, I know who you are, and know damn well you can stretch to something better than a near date expired, heart-shaped box of Whitman’s. Now put them back and pick up the Belgian before you have your daddy spinning in his grave and I have to make a call to your momma so as she can give you a talking to.”
I leave the gas station feeling even more ashamed than when I walked in. Gracie’s not Lucy. She doesn’t need to be showered in the biggest and best of everything. Don’t ask me how I know this; I just feel it in my gut.
Then again, I’ve been completely wrong about the women in my life before, so who the fuck knows.
My bourbon and sex adrenaline buzz from earlier has worn off, and I drive home to Gracie a lot slower.
When I come through the front door, I can hear music playing upstairs. I go into the kitchen, unwrap the flowers from their plastic, and make one big bunch out of them. I pull a pair of scissors from the drawer and snip the ends off and remove the lower leaves like I’ve seen my mom do. Then I hunt for a vase, but end up settling for a pitcher that I find in the cabinet instead. I half fill it with water and arrange them as best I can, hoping Gracie appreciates my efforts. I’ve never in my life arranged flowers before and never plan to admit to anyone that I did it tonight.
I put the pitcher full of flowers on a tray with the chocolates and condoms, take off all of my clothes, and with a single flower between my teeth, head back up the stairs.
When I get to Gracie’s bedroom door, she’s sitting with her back against the headboard, sheets tucked under her arms, barely covering her perfect tits. My dick comes to life the instant we both catch sight of her. She’s so fucking gorgeous.
There’s a woman’s voice singing softly from her speaker. I’ve no clue who it is and have never heard the song before, but I like it.
Gracie’s looking down at her phone, smiling at something, and doesn’t notice me for a minute. Then she does.
And I’m fucked. I can deny it all I want, but after just seven days of trying to fight it,
I’m ready to wave the white flag—from my dick if that is what it takes—and admit defeat. There’s something happening here, between the two of us that I have no control over.
When she looks up and gives me that smile, I know it.
When her eyes widen, and her hand comes up to cover her mouth, and the sheet on one side drops to her waist, exposing her beautifully inked skin, I sure as shit know it.
When she laughs and then, bursts into tears, and my own lips tremble at seeing her cry, I’m absolutely, one hundred and ten percent positive.
“What did you do?” she asks through a sob. I’m not sure if she’s laughing or crying. A bit of both, I think.
I move towards her and put the tray down on the nightstand before handing her the flower from between my teeth.
I climb onto the bed and pull her into my lap.
“What’s with the tears? Did you miss me that much? Or are you just fretting that I brought you flowers and forgot the condoms again?”
She laughs through her tears and, then stops, blinking rapidly while looking at me.
“Wait. What? Please tell me you got the condoms?”
“Of course, I got the condoms, but I also got you the flowers and some chocolates by way of an apology for the things I said earlier.”
“Which ones?” She smiles as she asks and her tears shine in her eyes.
“Chocolates?”
“Which words are you apologising for?”
“Well, everything that I’ve ever said that might’ve caused offence. I guess it can’t be too many, we only met a week ago, but especially for what I said before I left.”
I swipe tears from her cheeks with my thumb, and her jaw starts to tremble again.
“No one’s ever brought me naked flowers before.” She sniffs.
“The flowers are dressed in a pitcher, it’s me that’s naked.”
“You know what I mean.”
She sniffs at her flower.
“What kind is it?” She asks.
“The purple kind that means, ‘Sorry, Gracie, I’m a dick.’”
“You’re forgiven.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Gonna let me get in your panties now?”
“Well, one, I wear knickers not panties, so please just stop with that word. And two, I’m lying in this bed stark bollock naked. I think it’s a given that you’re gonna be getting in anywhere you want, especially after bringing me the most thoughtful first-timers gift ever.”
“What can I say, I’m a thoughtful kinda guy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, baby.”
“Come show me.”
So, I do. With my mouth, tongue, and fingers, I show Gracie how thoughtful I am. And when I finally slide my dick inside her, wrapped tight in a condom, I make sure that she’ll never ever forget my thoughtfulness.
GRACIE
I WAKE TO NOISE AND commotion coming from both inside the house and out on the driveway. I also wake to an empty bed.
My phone is buzzing on my bedside table, so I reach for it, see that the number’s unknown, and decline the call. I only have a few numbers stored: Koa’s, Kod’s, Rod’s, Lee’s, and Shannon’s.
I roll onto my back and note that it’s almost nine thirty. Koa has his builders coming to continue the renovations today, and I’m assuming that’s who’s making all the racket.
I let last night’s events play on a loop through my mind.
I must admit to being a bit taken aback by the fact that he’d been prepared to have unprotected sex with me, and I won’t lie, it kinda worried me. I know that he says he’s not done that before, but I now have a niggling doubt.
He did apologise though, and he did get dressed and go out in the cold and buy condoms. And chocolates. And flowers. He also served them all up to me naked.
I might’ve lain in bed with a smile plastered on my face while listening to the sound of his heavy boots clonk down the stairs. I most definitely gave a little, “Squeeee,” while wrapping my arms around myself and rocking from side to side when he slammed the front door and locked it behind him. And I absolutely grinned from ear to ear when I heard Koa run to his truck, start it, and roar down the driveway.
The fact that he was doing that all for me that he wanted me that badly made my blood fizz in veins.
I felt exactly like I did when I was fifteen and stood in line for three hours to get my Carnage CD signed by Sean McCarthy at Lakeside. Not only did he sign it but also I got a kiss from both him and Marley Layton.
Life. Made!
Well, it had been up to that point anyway.
Now?
Now there was Koa. My very own rock star of the country variety.
I’d fallen asleep last night with his body wrapped around mine, completely sated, and exhausted. I’d felt worshipped by the attention he’d paid me, delivering a toe-curling orgasm with his mouth, tongue, and fingers and another when he was inside me.
We’d then showered together, and he’d fucked me senseless from behind as we both used our fingers to work my clit while we stood under the running water.
I’ve no clue what the time was when we’d finally passed out, but it was the early hours, and now I’m a little pissed off that I overslept and didn’t get to wake up with Koa.
If we had woken up together, it would have gotten any awkwardness out of the way. I would, hopefully, have been able to suss out his mood and how he feels about things in the cold light of day. Instead, I’m gonna have to front him with other people around and try to gauge the situation.
My biggest fear is that he’ll behave indifferently towards me. Like last night didn’t happen or didn’t matter.
I scroll to my playlists and crank some upbeat disco from the seventies and eighties. My mum’s favourites are on this playlist, and it’s my go-to whenever I miss and need her words of wisdom.
I take my speaker to the bathroom, dancing all the while to George Benson, Luther Vandross, and Candi Staton as I freshen up and get ready to face the day.
I pull on a pair of workout leggings, a hoodie, and my UGGs. After piling my hair on top of my head, I don’t bother with any makeup and head downstairs.
I do all of this while trying to ignore the voices in my head telling me that Koa didn’t wake me because I’m a shit shag and he didn’t wanna a rerun this morning.
When I walk into his kitchen, he’s leaning over the table and looking at some drawings with Lee, of all people.
My cheeks instantly burn.
I fake a yawn as I enter the room, just to let the pair of them know that I’m here. My overthinking driving me to panic that Koa might decide to tell Lee that I am terrible in bed before he even realises I’m standing there.
Amazing the scenarios a brain can conjure in a split second or three.
Lee looks up and smiles at me first.
“Morning,” he says over his coffee mug.
I give him a small smile and a nod. “Morning.”
My eyes slice to Koa, and I hold my breath.
He doesn’t make eye contact at first. Instead, he seems to be taking in what I’m wearing. My cheeks begin to burn even hotter with embarrassment, the heat intensifies and spreads to my neck and chest as I assume he’s gonna play it cool, so the shit’s shocked out of me when he says, “Morning, baby. I tried to get the guys to keep the noise down inside but wasn’t a lot I could do when the dumpster got dropped off outside.”
I feel lightheaded and take a deep breath in through my nose.
“You want coffee?”
“No, thanks. I’ll have a tea. I’ve not been able to find your kettle, though. Where’d you keep it?”
I remain rooted to the spot as Koa moves around the table, slides his hand around the back of my neck, and pulls me into him.
“You were out of it when I woke this morning. The hardest thing I’ve had to do in a long while was leaving you all warm and naked in bed to answer the door to these guys.”
I may have
swayed on my feet a little at his words. Any doubts I had about his opinion of my performance last night are swept away, and the knowledge almost takes my legs out from under me with it.
“Kettle?” I croak.
Koa kisses my forehead and steps away.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” he tells Lee, who hasn’t said a word but is grinning over his cup.
“Ohhhhh, man. Wish I’d caught that on camera. Just wait till I tell Dean and Shannon what I just witnessed. Didn’t know you had a sweet bone in your body, Carmichael. Happy to see you’re comfortable with the PDAs.”
“Get back to work,” Koa orders.
“Sure thing, boss. Catch ya later, Gracie. See if you can’t keep a smile on this miserable motherfucker’s face for me, would ya? I just caught a glimpse of a Carmichael that’s not been seen around these parts in a long, long while.”
“I’ll do my best,” I assure Lee as he starts to leave the room.
“Keep walking, Conway, and stay off that phone. All non-work related calls are now banned during office hours.”
I watch Lee’s shoulders shake as he makes his way from the kitchen to the stairs, flipping his middle finger at Koa as he goes.
My light headedness returns when Koa steps back into my space. His hand slides around my hip, and he grabs a handful of my arse, pulling me flush against him.
“Meant what I said, Essex, hated leaving you in bed alone. Tonight, we’ll head up early, that way we can get some sleep and wake up together.”
My belly rolls and rolls, twists, turns and ties itself in knots.
“Kettle?” Yep. I’m English. Tea is how we deal with everything.
Koa smiles before leaning in and giving me a kiss laced with coffee and a hint of mint.
“Don’t have a kettle, Essex. Either use a pan to heat your water, or nuke it in the microwave.”
“Why don’t you—how can you not have a kettle?”
“Just don’t.”
“Heathen,” I mumble. Koa laughs his low rumbly laugh, Whorey Wanty me pops her head over my shoulder as we both listen and enjoy the sound.
“You want a kettle; I’ll buy you a kettle.”