by MK Schiller
“No, baby. Not that.”
“You don’t like it?”
He manages a laugh, although it’s strained. “There isn’t a man on God’s green earth that doesn’t love that. But if you do, I’ll lose control. Right now, I’m hanging on by a thread.”
He rolls away from me. I watch as he glides the condom down. There is something so erotic about watching him touch himself. “You ready, darling?”
Darling? It’s not a word I’d ever accuse of being sexy. But in this moment, spoken by this cowboy as he straddles me, it has to be the most provocative word in the whole dictionary.
I wrap my arms around his neck. “Yes.”
His entry is slow. He watches me with each inch of his advance. I gasp when he breaks a barrier. It’s painful for a second.
“You okay?”
I nod, unable to articulate just how okay I am. He nibbles on my earlobe and whispers in my ear. “Damn, you’re so tight, Kiran.”
He rears his head up and closes his eyes, his face wincing with each thrust. I may lack experience, but I’m pretty sure this shouldn’t be painful for him. Then it occurs to me why it is.
I tug on his hair, pulling him toward me. “You can move faster.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
He grins in relief. “Oh, thank God.”
Then he’s no longer slow thrusts and soft kisses. He’s hard, long, deep propulsions that leave me breathless. I cling to him. He grips my leg and brings it over his hip. I call his name in harsh guttural pleas.
“Let go, baby. I need you to let go.”
I do.
Everything tightens as a current takes hold of every cell. I try to memorize the moment, the feeling of it, of him, but I’m too far gone to rationalize any of it.
He thrusts inside of me the whole time, his grunts getting louder and more desperate until he buries his head in my shoulder.
I wrap my arms around him. I don’t want to let go.
Ever.
Chapter 10
Mason
The early afternoon sun streams through the window, casting soft shadows on the wall. She fell asleep in my arms. Not really a position I find comfortable, except I don’t mind. Last night I made love to this woman. In many ways, it was a first for me too. There is a connection between us I can’t explain in a rational way.
My only goal was to make it special for her. But I wanted her so much I might have gotten a little selfish at the end. Her soft plump lips are curved, almost in a smile. I’d woken up early to go for a run. When I laid eyes upon her, I just wanted to stay in this warm bed with her head on my shoulder. Her leg drapes over my hip, and her silky hair falls across my arm. The room smells of her. I breathe it in, wishing I could bottle up the scent. Or better yet, the feel of her soft, curvy body against mine as the sun’s warmth cascades over us.
I stroke her hair. She murmurs something in her sleep.
“Morning sunshine, it’s time to get up.”
“Already?” She sidles closer to me.
God help me, I want her again.
“Yeah, Sleeping Beauty. Daylight’s a wasting and I want to do something with you today.”
Her smile grows. “Already?” Her hand goes lower under the covers.
I grab her wrist. I kiss each of her fingers. “Naughty girl.”
“If I’m naughty, then you’re completely indecent, Mason.”
“True. But that’s not what I meant when I said I want to do something with you.” I glance at the bedside clock.
She frowns. “Then what?”
“Parachuting. The brochure says the place doesn’t require reservations. But we should head out there soon. You want to try it, right?”
Her eyes blink open. She chews her lower lip. “Not anymore.”
Can’t say I’m too disappointed. I could explore her all day and not come up for air. Except I really want to make some kind of special memory with her. “Why not, Shenoy? You seemed excited about it when you were checking out the brochure the other night.”
“I was, but I changed my mind. I don’t want to do the simulated thing anymore.”
I trace her plump lips with my finger. “So plan B? We lay in bed all day until one of us cries uncle?” Say yes. Say yes. Say yes.
She laughs. “That’s a nice idea, but um… I have another option.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”
Her deep brown eyes light up. “Let’s do the real thing.”
“The real thing?”
“Mason, will you jump out of a plane with me?”
There’s an invitation you don’t get every day.
When I don’t respond, she nudges me. “Say something.”
“I’ve never been excited and disappointed at the same time. Let me get used to this fucked-up emotion combo.” I fall on my back. “Okay Kiran, let’s take a leap together.”
As if we haven’t already done that.
* * * *
I call the airfield to make sure they can get us in. Luckily, they still have a few openings. I book us a time. We have a few hours so, of course, we spend them wisely. Then we both decide we should eat something. We head to the café in the hotel. We eat a light breakfast. Well, she does. She orders a fruit plate and granola. Or as I like to call it, bird feed. Me? I’m a growing boy so I go for the all-you-can-eat eggs, bacon, and hash browns.
I lick my lips when she holds up a peach wedge. She tortures me by nibbling on it.
“You gonna share that?”
A slow flush covers her cheeks in a pink glow. She pops it into my mouth. I close my eyes and chew slowly.
“It’s good, isn’t it?”
I raise an eyebrow, my fingers twitching. “It’s the second best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
The pink blush turns crimson. Now it’s not just my fingers twitching. I take a steadying breath. She sips her ice water. We both move past the urge.
When we get out to my car, she stands by the passenger side. I grasp her shoulders. “I’ll sit here. You go round to the other side.”
“Was that peach laced with acid? The other side is the driver’s seat, Mason.”
I’m not even sure where the idea came from. I hate being a passenger in a car, especially when it’s my car. In fact, I’ve never let anyone drive it besides Dana. And that was on rare emergency occasions. Here I am offering it to Kiran and hoping she’ll take the challenge. “It’s time you drove again. Your license is still up to date, right?”
“Yes, but…”
“We can take a few rounds in the parking lot until you’re comfortable. If you’re not, I’ll drive us to the airfield.”
“You trust me with your car? I haven’t driven a car in three years.”
“You trusted me last night.” I tilt her face. “You’ve got this, darling. But you need to trust yourself. We’re about to jump out of a plane. That was your idea. You can handle a car.”
I expect her to reject the idea. Instead, she simply nods and walks around to the driver’s side. I throw her the keys and follow. She takes her time adjusting the mirrors and getting familiar with my used sedan.
“How do you move the seat up?” she asks, looking around for some automated button that doesn’t exist. “I feel like I’m on a sled.”
“On the bottom. You have to pull.”
She groans, trying to adjust. “It’s not moving.”
I bend and pull the lever. She slides, almost crashing into me. “It’s stubborn sometimes. Is this comfortable?”
“Uh-huh.”
I pull down the seatbelt and click it into place. I tug on it a few times. I have no idea why, except I just want to be in close proximity to her a few seconds longer.
I take my seat as passenger before the urge to kiss her overpowers me. We’re never gonna hit the damn road if I don’t start behaving. She starts the ignition, tucks her hair behind her ear, and swallows down a deep breat
h. I turn off the radio. It takes her a few minutes to back out of the space. I keep my mouth zipped. The last thing she needs is a distraction.
“I’m going to circle the parking lot.”
“As many times as you need, sunshine.”
She grips the wheel so hard I wonder if I’ll have to pry her fingers off. She’s cautious. Okay, she’s slower than molasses in February. Part of it isn’t just nerves. She’s treating my cheap, rusty car like it’s a BMW. She stops for pedestrians a city block away. She goes over a speed bump like she’s tackling Everest.
“You’re doing fine, Kiran.”
“Am I going too fast?”
I shoot up in my seat. “Actually, you can pick up the pace.”
“So too slow is your official critique?”
“I’m saying go at a pace that’s comfortable for you. We’re not on a city street or anything. But just so you know, I saw a turtle race past us.”
She laughs and pushes down on the accelerator. “Funny, Cutler.”
“Just saying.”
“This car drives well.”
“Thanks. It’s done a good job for me. I’m working on rebuilding a Trans Am. Of course, I’ve been working on that since I was sixteen.”
“A hot rod, huh? Is it hard to find parts?”
“It is, especially when you’re trying to find original stuff. The car’s gonna be smoking when it’s done, but I want to make sure it turns out right. It’s special to me.”
“Why is it special?”
“It’s a project my dad started before he passed away. I’ve always planned on finishing it.”
She pats my leg. “I bet it’s going to be gorgeous.”
I wish she could see the Trans when it’s done. I’d love to take her for a ride. “Hands on the wheel, Shenoy.”
She puts them back at ten and two. “I’m ready to go on the street now.”
I pull out my phone. “I’ll be your navigator. It’s a forty-minute drive. There is an expressway involved, but I can route us a different way if you’d prefer.”
“No, it’s fine.” She makes a left out of the parking lot with no difficulty. With each mile, she gains confidence. Her fingers loosen. She cranks down her window and puts on her sunglasses. The wind blows through her hair. “I can’t believe I’m driving.”
“And doing a good job too.”
The traffic picks up. Out of nowhere a car switches to our lane and cuts us off. Kiran hits the brakes. I throw my arm over her body. It’s a reflex I’ve only used with Dana.
“Fucking asshole,” I mutter.
Kiran isn’t fazed, though. She nods in agreement and keeps going, keeping a cautious distance from the car ahead of us.
“Why did you reach your arm out? You were covering me.”
I laugh. “It’s stupid. Not like it’ll keep you safe if we crashed.”
Fuck, did I just say the C-word out loud? Smart move, Cutler.
“Probably not, but it’s not stupid at all. My mom did that too.”
“Mama Bear isn’t exactly the vibe I’m going for.” I’m trying and most likely failing to defuse the situation with my crappy sense of humor.
She smiles, her eyes on the road. I wish I could see them instead of the dark shades. Her eyes are expressive. Sometimes they reveal all the feelings she tries to hide.
“Thank you for trusting me.”
“Kiran, you’re doing really well. Hell, you could teach Driver’s Ed, girl.”
“Wow, Cutler. I’m already struggling between two choices regarding my future. Don’t throw a third in there.”
“Sorry.”
She purses her lips. She’s wearing some kind of strawberry gloss. I’m not even a fan of strawberries, but I suddenly have a die-hard craving for them.
“May I tell you something?”
“You can tell me anything, sunshine.”
“I feel safe with you, Mason. That thing you did with your arm? It wasn’t mama bear. It just shows how protective you are. The Marines are lucky to have you.”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me. It really does. But I think we both have expelled enough sap to fill a forest of maples.”
“I’ll try to hold in my sap.”
“Yeah, you do that.” I swallow back something bitter that sinks into my gut. “Take the next right and get on the west on-ramp.” She reminded me that as much as I want her to be mine, the reality is I belong to someone else. He’s got a white beard, a pointy finger, and a tacky suit. His name is Uncle Sam.
She gets on the expressway without any issues. In fact, she even passes a couple of slower cars.
“You’ll stay on here for eight miles give or take.”
“You don’t need to give me directions anymore. I remember this place. This is the way my papa took when we had to go to Tampa for my physical therapy. We used to pass it. I saw all those colorful planes.”
“Now you’re jumping out of one. Still up for it?”
“More than ever. You?”
“Call me a bicycle wheel cause, darling, I’m pumped.”
“Can you turn on the radio?” she asks after the silence stretches a few miles.
“It won’t distract you?”
“I think it’ll help. I’m too focused. Know what I mean?”
“I sure do.”
I flip on a station, but mostly we’re getting static. I turn the dial slowly.
“Wait,” she says. “This song.”
I grimace, because the angst-filled lyrics and four-part harmony can only mean one thing: boy band.
“Mason, allow me to introduce you to the Backstreet Boys.”
“I’d rather we stay strangers.”
She pats my leg. “Give it a chance.”
Not sure if I’ll ever be a fan, but I gotta admit there is something about this tune that speaks to me.
“What’s the name of this song, Shenoy?”
“‘Helpless When She Smiles.’”
No wonder it rings true.
Chapter 11
Mason
When we get to the airfield, we’re ushered into a room where we basically sign all our rights away. It’s doesn’t exactly invoke a feeling of security. I just scribble my signature. Chewing on her pen, she reads every damn form.
“Sign it, Kiran. We both know there is an element of danger. That’s what makes it appealing.”
“Yeah, but thinking about that in the abstract and writing down my next of kin on this paper are two different things.”
“If you want to forget this, I would understand. No pressure.”
“Not a chance. Just need a minute.”
“Get out of your head, Kiran. Be here with me right now.”
“There is no place I’d rather be.” She signs her name in curling letters.
“Get the fuck out of here. Do you really dot your I’s with a smiley face?”
She laughs. “Not since I was a teenager. I have no idea why I did that.”
I put my arm around her and draw her close. “I like it. Even your name has a smile.”
A woman clears her throat, interrupting us before I can kiss the pretty smile she gifts me. She clicks a remote to start an instructional video. Kiran pays close attention. Meanwhile, I steal a few sideway glances at her. Hell, I think she might just take notes. She gets excited as we watch all the footage of ordinary people zipping through the sky.
After that, we’re directed to another room where we get rigged up in our jumping gear. She looks so damn cute in the orange jumpsuit. Me? I resemble a prison inmate.
We march ourselves out to the aircraft. She hesitates as we get closer. It’s smaller than I imagined, and it looks like it’s had more than its fair share of miles. She stops completely and closes her eyes. She tilts her head toward the sun and mouths something. Maybe a prayer?
“I’m sure it’s sturdy, Kiran.”
“You are?”
I gesture to the
aircraft. “Look at it this way. Lindy flew a plane this size when he crossed the Atlantic.”
“It probably is this plane.”
I chuckle, although she may be right. “Kiran, it’s passed every regulation. I did some research during the drive. They have a very good reputation.”
“Yeah, of course it’s safe.” I’m not sure if she’s affirming what I’ve said or trying to convince herself. “Size doesn’t matter.”
“Not when it comes to this.”
She cracks a smile. “You’re right.”
“About size?”
She punches me in the arm. “About the plane.” She shakes her hand out. “Are you made of metal?”
“Flesh and blood as far I know.”
She arches her brow. “And very hard bones.”
Those are kissing words. She takes a step toward me. She holds her hand up, palm facing me. I’m confused until I realize she wants a high-five. Not exactly the gesture I was thinking of, but I’d never leave her hanging. I slap her hand. “Let’s do this, Shenoy.”
We meet our instructors. They go over the same safety stuff as the video. We take seats on the floor of the aircraft. The plane rises higher into the air, the roaring engines making it impossible to talk. Not that I have much to say. Adrenaline is coursing through every vein. I’m about to jump out of a plane with this girl. That’s amazing. Fuck, I met a girl who actually wants to jump out of a plane. That’s really amazing.
My excitement dampens a bit. The reality of this experience is much different than what I envisioned. For instance, I knew we’d each have to tandem jump with someone else since neither of us had any skydiving experience. But is there a reason Kiran’s guy strapped himself to her before we even took off? I get him giving her last minute instructions, but why does he need to whisper them in her ear? I wager his Spanish accent is fake too. No one rolls their R’s that much. His name is Lorenzo. On our paperwork it has only one R. Yet, the way he introduced himself, it’s more like six. Who the hell needs that many R’s in their name?
Kiran takes a rubber band from her pocket. The way Lorenzo is staring at her is driving me crazy. She’s quiet, lost in her own thoughts. He says something to her. Kiran laughs. Okay, he’s comforting her. Chill, Cutler. Eight thousand feet and climbing is no time to pick a fight. She doesn’t look uncomfortable. She isn’t asking you to save her. This is all me and my own insecurity. I realize that, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot unclench my hands. This guy could be in the running to be a future boy band member. Bet he can dance and sing at the same time.