by Zoey Castile
When the song lyric signals my cue, I turn around and bend forward. I can feel heat radiating from her as the bed comes to a standstill in front of me. I grab the waist of my pants and pull them off in one movement.
She looks down at my bulge. I can feel my heart beat at the base of my throat, in my wrists, inside my ears. But she isn’t the only one who notices. The audience is losing their shit.
I wind to the rhythm of the song, but for the first time in any performance I’ve ever done, I’m not motivated by the thrills and screams of the women watching me. I’m motivated by the way Robyn looks at me. No one has ever looked at me like that. Her thick dark lashes are heavy, giving her a dreamy look.
I rest a knee on the edge of the bed. Then another. I box her in with my legs. Without having to tell her, she raises her hands in the air, and then we fall down and against the bed. She pulls her knees apart to make room for me, and I thrust to the beat of the song, dry-humping her. Everything about her welcomes me. The way she sinks into the bed, the way she raises her pelvis to rub against me.
Atta girl, I think. Because she isn’t running from me. She’s coming undone in my arms. And if we weren’t in front of hundreds of people, I’d rip off what’s left of my clothes and let her have her way with me.
The bed spins with both of us at the center. The strobe lights come on, creating a freeze frame effect that makes the audience wild with scandal, and everything happens too fast.
I untie the belt around her wrists. I pull her on top of me, so she straddles me. Her wild hair cascades when she leans back, nails raking down my naked chest.
And as the song comes to a crescendo, Robyn leans forward and kisses me.
13
Bed
ROBYN
“That was some show,” a woman named Darla says to me, with a voice so syrupy my teeth ache. Her blond hair is perfectly done to frame her contoured face.
“I think I’m ready to make my Broadway debut.” My cheeks burn under her blue cat-lined stare. What else do I say? “Thanks!” It doesn’t seem like the right response, and neither does, “I’ve never done anything like that before.”
By the way she looks at my shoes, my dress, and probably even the acne scar on my chin, she’s sizing me up. Fallon introduced her as their publicist and unofficial house mom. I always thought a house mom was for sororities, but I guess it’s a stripper thing as well.
The staff and crew linger at the bar for post-show drinks but they let me stay, and it’s like getting an insight into Fallon’s day-to-day. After I was escorted back to my seat, the show continued. My skin hummed as I walked to my seat at the bar. Women high-fived me down the aisles of their tables. I’ve never, not once in my life, been on such display. It’s a strange feeling, and not entirely terrible. Not when I felt the way Fallon wanted me. I wasn’t the only one who noticed his dick straining against the white fabric of his thong. It was a thing of beauty, hard and huge. When I sat down, Rachel hooked me up with another drink, and I watched them finish their set. They did a SWAT team one that made me think of Lily’s bachelorette night, a cowboy number, and finished off with a lifeguard performance that involved all of them getting wet.
Speaking of wet.
Fallon walks over to me. His smile is bright, and his eyes lock on me and never move. Not as he wades through the group of guys from his crew, not when a group of waitresses try to grab his arms, not when Darla starts talking about ticket sales.
He takes my hand, surprisingly shy. How can he be shy? We just dry-humped in front of hundreds of people. I pull him closer to me, and he leans into the crook of my neck and inhales my scent.
“I have the closing paperwork right here.”
“Huh?” he says, like he’s coming out of a daze. His eyes turn to Darla, who’s holding a clipboard. “Oh, can we go over it in the morning? I’ll come in first thing.”
Darla looks at me, then back at Fallon. I can’t quite place the way she looks at him, but suddenly, I feel uncomfortable under her stare. “Okay, but you better bring me my coffee.”
“I know how you take it.”
Darla saunters over to the bar and gets a rundown from one of the bartenders. It must be stressful having to do all of this work.
Fallon and I don’t have a moment alone. His teammates come over to meet me. So far, my favorite is Aiden.
“Hey, mi reina,” he says, his voice flirty and his Colombian accent so adorable I let him get away with the pet name. He’s got killer cheekbones and a body that’s sculpted to perfection. His eyes are a light brown and his hair is still damp from the beach finale. “It’s nice to finally meet the famous laundry thief.”
He takes my hand and kisses it, then gives me a smile that has Fallon stepping in.
“Okay, enough, Suavemente,” Fallon says, batting his friend away.
“I can’t help it. Beautiful women should be worshiped,” Aiden says.
“I don’t disagree. Just go worship another one.” He keeps a hand around my waist, and I can’t help but feel a spark of thrill at the way he holds me. Claims me.
Ricky comes over. Up close, he’s even more striking, even in casual clothes. He puts a hand on my shoulder and levels his eyes with mine. “Pleasure, luv. I really loved your hair flip at the end there.”
“Did you have a favorite set?” Aiden asks me.
“Other than mine,” Fallon adds.
“I don’t know,” I say playfully, “the twin thing was really sexy, but there’s something about men in uniform.”
“If we find one of the firemen outfits missing,” Ricky says, “we know to blame Fallon.”
And on they go. They’re so welcoming. It’s the most charming group of men I’ve ever been around. They’re attentive, and affectionate, but not in a creepy way. I can tell how close they all are by the way everyone always makes body contact. A touch of the shoulder, a playful jab on the chest, a slap of the hand. There’s a bond there, and I love that Fallon is letting me witness it. I don’t have anything like that in my workplace, and I wonder if part of that is because I never made an effort to get to know anyone other than Lily.
Beers are passed around. One of the twins flirts with a fan that doesn’t look like she wants to go anywhere. Some of the guys jump around, and I wonder if they ever come down from the adrenaline they rack up onstage.
“So, Robyn,” Ricky says. “You’re a teacher?”
“Shit, if my teachers had looked like you, I would’ve stayed in school,” Aiden says.
“I do hope you didn’t drop out of fifth grade,” I tell him.
Fallon lowers himself to nip at my earlobe. Everything about him is distracting. I love that he doesn’t act differently toward me when he’s in front of his friends. Even though they rag on him, he doesn’t look like he’s going to let go.
“I’m glad you enjoyed the show,” Darla says, finally sitting down. She kicks off her heels and massages the arch of her foot. “Better get in a few more before we’re off to Vegas.”
“I thought you guys were going to Reno,” I point out.
“We’re actually going to Vegas instead, luv,” Ricky says.
There’s an awkward pause, and the background music fills the space. Some of the guys look down at their beers, and I don’t miss the look that Ricky shoots Fallon. Like they’re sharing a secret message that I can’t decode.
“Hey.” Fallon turns to me. “Do you want to get out of here?”
I set my beer on the bar and run my hands along his muscular arms. “I thought you’d never ask.”
* * *
Fallon drives down the dark avenue. The train rumbles above us. I don’t want to think about the inevitable fact that Fallon isn’t going to be here after our summer together. I don’t want to think that I’m already falling for him and that it’s going to hurt. I don’t want to think about Darla and how calculated it was to drop that reminder.
No. I don’t want to think of any of that. What I do want is to enjoy the moments I have with Fa
llon. I want to re-create the way I felt when I was on that stage. I want to feel every part of him.
“What are you doing?” he asks playfully.
I rake my fingers across his thigh. He stares out the window, but glances at me. I lean forward, inching my hand little by little.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” My heart races when I reach his crotch. He’s already hard and waiting for me. I pull on the string of his sweatpants. His breath is ragged as I reach my hand inside and I gasp a little. “Commando.”
He threads his fingers into my hair and brings me close. He sucks on my bottom lip, then pushes me away and looks back at the road. “Robyn.”
I lean into his neck and dot kisses along the vein that throbs against his skin. I move my hand up and down his shaft, turning my thumb in circles under the head of his cock. At the red light he brakes hard, and holds me so I don’t get thrown forward.
I lower my lips to his dick and coat the tip with my tongue. He moans, and I take him in deeper. He rests his palm on top of my head, brushing my hair back with nimble fingers. There’s a honk behind us, and he hits the gas, cursing as I pick up speed with my tongue, slurping and licking my way up and down his hardness.
He tugs on my hair, guiding me off his dick. He kisses me at the red light, his teeth biting down hard, his tongue wanting.
“I need you,” he tells me. We go on green and at the next right we’re home. He parks haphazardly in the garage. We kiss across the parking lot. We kiss in the stairwell. We kiss up the steps. We kiss at the door to my apartment.
I fumble for my keys and unlock the door.
“Wait,” he says, his voice hoarse and needy.
He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. The door slams.
He squeezes my ass all the way into my bedroom. For the second time tonight, we’re on a bed. My dress has already ridden up over my hips, exposing the black lace thong I picked out for myself.
He stands at the side of my bed watching me. “You’re so fucking hot.”
He takes off his shirt and tosses it on the floor. Drops to his knees and runs his hands along my hips, my thighs. He grabs my knees and spreads them apart. For a moment, I look at my ceiling and let the insecurities wash over me. Better get them over with now because I want to, need to, enjoy this. I haven’t had sex with anyone in six months. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to let go. I’m afraid that I’m my worst enemy. That’s right, Robyn, get all those thoughts out of your system, I think.
Because when I look, Fallon is kissing my hip bones. His mouth presses hot, wet kisses all across my belly. He loops his arms under my thighs and I yelp when he pulls me inches from his mouth. I can feel his breath on the thin silk material of my thong. His tongue draws a line up and down my wetness, and I squirm in his solid grasp.
I can’t handle it. I need him now. I start to pull at the sides of my underwear but his hands hold mine down.
He climbs on top of me. “I want you to enjoy this.”
“Believe me,” I say. “I am.”
He looks at me for a long time. The blue of his eyes is so bright, I don’t ever want to look away.
“Fallon?”
He answers me with a kiss. A kiss so deep, I could fall right through the mattress and through the floors of our building. I dig my toes into the elastic waistband of his sweats and push them down. His dick slaps against my wet center and I moan loud enough to wake the neighbors.
He rests his forehead on my breasts and grunts. “You’re so fucking wet.”
He freezes. Doesn’t move for three whole breaths. I can feel myself tighten in anticipation of him.
“Top drawer,” I whisper in his ear.
He gets off me, the absence of him like a deep loss I can’t begin to put into words. I watch him walk around my bed. His body is a wonder. His body belongs on top of mine. His body is everything I could have ever wished for.
He grabs a condom from the box and kneels back in front of me.
“Where was I?” He takes my thong in his fists and rips it into threads.
I gasp as his mouth closes over my pussy. He drags a tongue down the center, twisting delicious rings around my clit. He cups his hands under my ass and pushes me up, like he can’t get enough of me. My body feels like it belongs to someone else. It writhes under his touch. A spark of heat blooms in my belly, and a warmth floods my entire body. His tongue, his tongue deserves gold medals. But when he slides his fingers inside me, I decide every part of Fallon is better than the next.
I grab hold of his hair and tug. The vibration of his moans rides up my body, and my breath hitches because I come hard and fast on his mouth.
He kisses the sensitive skin between my legs. My breath is heavy and my face hurts from the smile on my face. I grab the condom beside me and throw it at him. I move myself up higher on the bed. I curl my finger, and drag it toward me.
“Come.”
FALLON
Robyn grinding her pussy against my face is my new favorite feeling in the world. Robyn moaning my name is my new favorite sound in the world. Robyn. Just Robyn is my everything.
I rip open the condom foil and slide the latex down my dick. She sits on her bed, her legs angling to the side. She pulls off that slinky black dress and throws it off to the side. She reaches behind her back to unhook her bra.
My dick twitches. If I were any harder, I would bust through this condom.
She holds the fabric of her bra against her. Pulls one strap down. Then the other. I smirk, because she’s stripping for me.
“Let me see you,” I tell her.
Her black wavy hair falls around golden shoulders. She lets go of one hand. Then another.
Her tits are small. Full and perfectly round. Her nipples are like drops of chocolate kisses. I follow the curl of her finger as she begs me to come forward. I feel possessed by her beauty. Effortless and seductive and downright sexy.
“Come,” she says, and I fully intend on it.
I climb on top of her and line up my dick to her wet pussy. I kiss her mouth, wrap my hand around her neck, and feel her moan against me, into me.
“Tell me what you want.”
“I want you inside me.”
That’s all I want to hear. To give her what she asks of me. I slide inside of her, a knife through melting butter. When I close my eyes, I can see stars. I can see the swirl of the galaxy and the makeup of entire heavens. She presses the heels of her feet on my ass cheeks to push me deeper.
“You’re so fucking eager.” I chuckle against her ear. “I want to take my time with you, Robyn.”
She answers by biting at my neck. Pushing her tongue in circles that drive me so wild, I slam all of me inside of her. She cries out loud and needy, wrapping her arms around my neck.
“You feel so good,” she pants in whispers.
I slide back out all the way, then slip back in, my breath caught in my throat. I grab her hips and lift them up; the pressure of my dick tightens and if I move I will come in seconds. So, I let myself breathe. I wet my finger in her mouth and rub her clit in slow circles, the walls inside her contracting around me.
She wriggles and winds and pulls me closer. “Fuck me, Fallon.”
And that. The hitch in her voice. The way she calls for me, needs me. It breaks me apart. I dig my fingers into her soft hips and slide in and out. She grabs hold of the mattress and pulls. When she lets go, she runs her fingers through her hair. That hair that drives me out of my skin because it is so lush and gorgeous. Her tits bounce to the rhythm of my dick coming in and out of her, and I lower myself and take one nipple into my mouth. It hardens against my tongue.
I fucking love this girl. “I fuc—”
I feel myself start to say it out loud but I stop. No I love you’s. None of that.
Instead, I sink deeper and deeper into her wetness, until she cries out my name, and I come hard inside of her.
Later while Robyn sleeps naked, I take a quick shower. I use her body wash,
something called “Sea Spray,” which smells of her. I hold the soapy loofah to my nose and inhale.
This is trouble.
I know this is trouble.
I knew she was trouble the moment I couldn’t drag myself away from her very presence.
Sex complicates things. Especially when it’s good. So fucking good.
I’m reminded of Darla bringing up Vegas. When I found out Robyn was coming to the show, I asked the boys to not mention anything about when we’re leaving. Ricky gave me a concerned eye and said, “Careful, Zacky. That’s not going to end well.” I called him the nickname he hates the most. “Thanks, Dad.” But Darla wasn’t there, so I can’t blame her for bringing it up. I should tell Robyn that I’m leaving in three weeks. No, not three anymore.
Eighteen days.
The countdown clock starts in my head. I know it shouldn’t affect anything. What’s the difference if something ends in four months or three weeks? I wash under my pits, the tepid water falling over my head.
I’ll tell her in the morning.
And hopefully, she’ll still be game to keep this going for two weeks because that was the hardest orgasm I’ve ever had. And I haven’t exactly been a saint.
“Hey.” Robyn’s sleepy voice announces her.
She rubs her hand on the glass shower door. Through the steam, I make out her sweet swollen mouth, her rumpled dark hair, and her nakedness.
My dick is at attention at once.
She opens the door, something metallic in her hand and a wicked smile on her face.
Seeing her like this, ready and searching for me, makes me lose myself. I grab her around the waist and press her against the cool, wet tiles. She groans against my mouth, her tongue searching for mine. I grab the condom from her, rip it open, and slide it on.
“Fallon,” she sighs against my ear. “I want you so much. I’ve never wanted anyone like this before.”
My heart, the Epic Fool, thunders in my chest. I feel the same way. But I can’t say it. I won’t. Even if it’s the hardest thing to keep myself from letting the words spill out of my mouth. I’m going to show her instead. I bite down on her bottom lip. I pick her up, using the wall to steady us. I cup her thick ass with my palms and press my cock into her pussy, already wet and waiting for me.