Thicker Than Water

by Dylan Allen

“Reece.” I call his name. It’s a plea. I need more.

  “Yeah, baby. I’ve got you.” And then he pulls me to him. I feel his tongue, lips and teeth start to feast on me. I reach behind me with my uninjured hand and start to stroke him. His cock is hot, hard and the skin feels like velvet. His hips pump into my hand and I can feel the rush of blood as he grows even harder in my hand. I try to keep a steady rhythm, but when he pulls my clit into his mouth and starts to suck, I can’t sit up anymore. I fall forward over him. He flips me onto my back without breaking the wicked motion of his mouth. He takes two fingers and starts to stroke me and fuck me with them. And, that’s all it takes to send me over. I come so hard I can’t control the shout of pleasure it elicits. I try to pull away, moving my overly sensitive parts from his eager mouth. His hands grip the back of my thighs and he pulls me back to him.

  “Again. I haven’t had enough.” And he eats me, making his tongue the only thing I’m aware of. I beg him to stop after my next orgasm crashes over me. I can’t take it anymore. And I want him, my body needs him, inside.

  He crawls up my body, kissing his way until we are hip to hip. When he kisses my mouth, I taste myself on his lips and I don’t think I’ve ever felt closer to another human being as I do to him right now.

  He rolls us over so he’s underneath me. His strong, long arms circle me, pulling me so close it feels like we’re conjoined. I rest my head on his chest and the beating of his heart drowns out the ambient noises of the neighborhood that seeps in through my partially open window. He runs his fingers up and down my spine. “You should try to sleep; it’s been a long day.”

  I lift my head up in surprise and look at him. “Wait, we’re done? You didn’t finish . . .” I roll my hips so that his still erect cock glides in between the lips of my pussy.

  “Oh, Luc.” He chuckles softly. “I’ll never be finished with you. But when I fuck you for the first time, I want you in my bed. You’re driving back to Malibu early, right? You’ve got a long day and that arm of yours has a few more days of rest due.”

  I groan as I remember everything that’s waiting for me tomorrow. He rolls us so that we are lying side by side. He kisses me softly, and pushes the hair out of my face. He smiles roguishly. “I also need to go and stock up on condoms and lube because I’m a greedy bastard and I want to put my cock in every single part of you . . . your mouth, your pussy.” His hand runs down my back. “I want to fuck your tits and your ass.” He squeezes the ass he just spoke of and I shiver in anticipation. Not just from his words, but from the intensity in his eyes as they land on mine. They demand that I don’t look away.

  His smile disappears.

  “I’m going to take everything, Lucía. I’m going to fucking wreck you. But I’m going to give you everything I’ve got, too. Everything.”

  I nod and wrap my arm around his waist. I look at him and let him see the excitement, fear, power and love that I’m feeling. “Fuck, yeah.”

  26

  Reece

  Lucía’s looking at me like there’s an alien standing on her doorstep. I just drove down to Malibu after spending a whole week in Los Angeles. We’ve been talking every day, but my dad is still recuperating. Today, I’ve cleared my calendar. I decided to drive down early and wake her up.

  She’s flushed and rumpled from her sleep. Her thick, chocolate colored hair is tousled. She’s rubbing the sleep out her eyes as she squints up at me.

  She’s wearing a T-shirt that hits her right above her belly button. Her tiny shorts might as well be panties. She’s not wearing a bra and her nipples are hard underneath the strained, worn cotton of her T-shirt. They’re begging for my mouth.

  “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” I stop to brush a kiss on the top of her head as I walk in through the door she’s holding open for me. She hugs me, but I give her a wide berth so she doesn’t feel how stiff my dick is. Then we’ll never get anything done.

  “Uh, morning, Reece,” she says as she closes the door and follows me out onto her back deck.

  “Yoga lesson, right?” I say casually. She’s standing there, blinking like a baby owl opening its eyes for the first time. She called me yesterday and I called her back, but kept it brief. I could tell she wanted to talk, but I was really focused on my to-do list so that I could enjoy today.

  “Are you okay? Why are you blinking like that?”

  Her frown turns to a smile. “Because, I’m tired, Reece,” she says through a yawn. She stretches, and takes a deep breath, “But I’m so glad we’re still doing this. I’ve missed us having this time together.” She looks up at me through her lashes, and a small, but happy smile adorns her face.

  “I’ve missed it, too. The last lesson was a swimming one, so today we can do some yoga. You can’t use your arm properly, so you can show me stuff that doesn’t focus on them for support.” I walk over to the closet where our mats are stored and pull them out. “Go get dressed… unless you’re going to do yoga in those clothes.”

  She flushes, and tucks a stray hair behind her ear. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” And then she starts to walks fast back into the house. “You need some help?” I ask her.

  “No,” she snaps.

  I’m chuckling as I watch her walk away, enjoying the sway in her hips. I have a plan for the day, and I want today to be perfect. I want to spoil her, let her relax and have a day of being together. And then tonight, I’m going to fuck her.

  “Okay, I’m ready.” She walks back out and sits down on the mat I’ve rolled out next to mine. She’s wearing tight, multicolored yoga pants and a little sports bra. And that’s it. Her breasts are restrained, but just barely. The bra has these cords of fabric up the side and she’s got so much skin exposed to me that I’m tempted to suggest that we scrap yoga and just go back to bed.

  “While I was changing, I was thinking. . .I can teach you one of the meditations I do to clear my mind and help me focus. I actually made it up, so it’s not proven on anyone other than me. You can modify it if you want, but at least you’ll have the basics down and be able to get a feel for meditation principles. And it will give my arm and hand a break.” She waves her bandaged arm.

  “Does it hurt a lot?” I ask, restraining the urge to touch it.

  She looks at it and sighs.

  “Not like it did the night it happened. I’ve been keeping it elevated when I sleep so the swelling has gone down a lot. The stitches are dissolving.” She holds up her hand I can see the line of stitching in her palm.

  “Okay, looks good.”

  She looks straight ahead and stands up, putting her palms together in the first position of the Sun Salutations, signaling that the conversation is over.

  I chuckle and follow her lead.

  Once we’re done, and she’s still in her final pose, I ask a question I’ve been holding onto since she told me what we were doing for our lesson today.

  “Meditation? Is that part of yoga?” Her eyes pop open as if she didn’t realize I was there. She shakes her head as if to clear it before she answers. “Sorry, I was already a little lost. And yes, it’s essential. At least to my practice of yoga. Meditation doesn’t mean just closing your eyes and not thinking. It can also be a time where you spend reinforcing your mind with positive thoughts and things that you want to influence your mood. I’ve actually made up my own meditation mantras. I took the first four stanzas in Kipling’s “If.”

  “I read that in high school,” I scan my memory for fragments of the poem that are floating in my memory. “If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim.” I recite the one line I can remember and Lucía looks at me with pleasant surprise.

  “You know it? That’s great,” she exclaims and claps her hands together.

  “Wow, you’re easily impressed,” I joke.

  She slaps me across the arm. “It’s my favorite poem, Reece.” She rolls her eyes toward the top of her head, but this time in a look that says, I’m heaven rather than in
annoyance. “It’s the perfect advice on how to be happy. Don’t give up. Work hard. Stay humble, be honest. For my meditations, I’ve broken it up into stanzas and then use each stanza as I need it.”

  “Which one do we need, today?” I ask. She tilts her head to the side, and taps her finger on her lips as she thinks.

  “If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

  “That’s two stanzas, Vega. You said one,” I say with mock disapproval.

  “We need those two today, Carras,” she returns, creasing her forehead to mimic my expression. “We’ve got a lot of negative energy to dispel,” she returns with a smile. “I’ll say the stanza out loud once and then I repeat it slowly, really focusing on the words. I do this for twenty minutes and allow the words to help me focus and shut out the other noise in my head.”

  “Okay,” I mumble, letting my skepticism show.

  “Look, just try it. Clear your mind, think the stanzas and just be alone with them for twenty minutes. Forget I’m here. Forget you’re here,” she demands before she closes her eyes and starts to say the stanza to herself.

  I mimic her. And I allow myself to focus on the words.

  “Reece! Reece!” I hear Lucía calling my name, but she sounds so far away. And then I feel a rough shake on my shoulder and I jolt. I look up and Lucía’s kneeling in front of me. Her face scrunched in concern as she scans my face. “Are you okay? I’ve been calling your name for almost a full minute.”

  The haze starts to lift, my awareness returns. I’m on her deck. We’re doing yoga. I’m confused by the minutes I appear to have lost. “Did I black out?” I ask her.

  “No. You were meditating. Wow. Good job, Reece. I’m so glad you took it seriously.” She smiles as she stands up.

  “Yeah, Luc. I got stuck on the words ‘If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those two impostors just the same;’ I said those over and over again for twenty minutes.”

  “That’s a tough one for us all. It’s hard to not get caught up in success and discouraged by failure. I struggle to remind myself, that they can be as valuable as each other.”

  As much as I want to have this philosophical discussion, I also want to get going with my plans for the day.

  I grab her waist and pull her down beside me. “Yes, I mean, just look at us. Tragedy has brought us together. It’s all what you do with it.” She smiles, but doesn’t say anything as she stares out at the horizon.

  “Listen, can we spend the day together?” I ask her.

  She turns to look at me and that smile breaks across her face. It warms me like the sun melting away frost.

  “Yes. I’d love that. I’ll let Todd and Dan know I need the day off.”

  I’m surprised by how quickly she agrees. I don’t hide my surprise, and she smiles. “That’s an easy ask, Reece. I’d love to spend the day with you.” She strokes my cheek with the pads of her fingers. I lean toward her involuntarily. My hand trails down the side of her face. I’d only have to lean in a little, and if she met me half way, I could have my lips on hers. I want to kiss her and then fuck her so hard that we break shit. I want to spend all day eating her pussy and sucking her nipples while I’m balls deep inside of her.

  She leans back. “What are you thinking, Reece?” she asks, eyes wide with alarm.

  I grin at the look on her face. “What does it look like I’m thinking about?”

  “I don’t know, but you look like you’re about to jump me. And, in a ‘not so friendly’ way,” she says and leans even farther away from me. “You look like you want to eat me alive.”

  I laugh, a long, loud burst that catches me by surprise. She is so fucking innocent.

  “I am hungry,” I say sliding my hands down her arms and pulling her into me. She pulls away and heads toward the house and says without turning back, “Well, if you’re hungry, I’ve got some of those cinnamon rolls that Jess made in the freezer. Let’s warm them up.” I laugh and follow her into the house. I’ll let her go for now.

  We’ve got a lot of shit to talk about, but once that’s done, I’m done fucking around. I’m taking her tonight. She’s ready and so am I.

  27

  Lucía

  It’s a perfect day. The kind where if someone offered to grant me a wish, I’d have a hard time thinking of one that would make it any better. Reece and I are in his car, top down, speeding down the Pacific Coast Highway. I have a scarf tied around my head to keep my hair from blowing. But caught up in the exhilaration of the moment, I reach under my chin and untie it. I laugh in delight as my hair blows wildly around me.

  The noon sun is shining, and it’s an unusually warm day for the end of October. But there’s a nice breeze and it feels great. It’s dry, but there’s moisture that makes it feel like a sweet caress.

  After breakfast, he went home to change and told me to be ready in an hour and to wear something a little nicer than casual. He said we were going to lunch at Spago in Beverly Hills; and then he had a surprise for me. I protested when he suggested that restaurant. He just waved me off and said, “It’s easy to get a table and the food is great. And it’s on the way to where we’re going.”

  It’s also very public. Just the kind of place I’d avoid since my book took off. Reece is a paparazzi magnet. I’m not an expert, but I’ve heard Jess reading from the celebrity gossip and me hearing, seen coming out of Spago. I’m worried that if we go to Spago, someone will take a picture of us together. People will start asking, right away, who I am; where I came from.

  When I gave voice to that concern, Reece had said, “Why should you be afraid of that? Own it, Lucía. You need to stop hiding. You have the right to be here. You have a valid work permit and you’re a law-abiding person. Besides, Spago is discreet. It’ll be fine.”

  As we turn off the 405 and onto Wilshire Boulevard, he hits a button on his dashboard that starts to put his top back up. “We’re almost there, not much privacy on Wilshire, even at this end of it.” He grabs my hand. His fingers twine with mine and remain that way as we make our way up this iconic stretch of road.

  We’re passing through the greenest strip of Wilshire when Reece’s phone rings. His car’s dashboard announces that “Graham” is calling. He touches a button on his steering wheel and a booming voice replaces the music we were listening to.

  “Yo, R. Are you in LA?”

  “Yup,” Reece responds.

  “And you didn’t even let your bros know you were coming? You’ve disappeared to that house in fucking Malibu. You’ve left O, D, and me to handle all these thirsty hoes on our own.”

  I can’t stop the gasp that comes out of my mouth.

  “Graham, you’re so dramatic, man. I’m in LA, but only for today and I’m with my lady, so watch your mouth.”

  “Oh, shit,” Graham drawls. He has a deep, very strong Southern accent. God, it’s sexy. And I know who he is because everyone knows who Graham Davis is. He’s a very sought after personal trainer. He has his own TV show where he helps people lose weight. He’s got a line of workout clothes, diet supplements and his own line of sports drinks. He’s also a notorious womanizer and a professional bad boy. Jess has a picture of him on the wall of her pottery studio. She calls him her muse.

  “Excuse me, Reece’s lady. If I’d known you were in the car, I would have tried to sound like I have some manners,” he says and I look at Reec
e, not saying anything.

  “Graham, shut up. And you could always come to Malibu if you miss me,” he says.

  Graham scoffs, “Yeah, right. Meet us for dinner tonight. I’ll text you the details and you better be there. Don’t say no. I’m hanging up.” Then the line goes dead. I turn to him, excited by having been in a car where Graham fucking Davis was just talking.

  “Sorry about that. We don’t have to go to dinner,” he says apologetically.

  “Are you crazy? Of course we have to go to dinner. Can I invite Jessica?”

  “You want to go to dinner? I thought you’d want to go home early.”

  “Why would you think that?” I ask him, perplexed. “I’m having the best day.”

  He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, sure. We can stay in LA for dinner.”

  He pulls past Soul Cycle in Beverly Hills and I see all the women sweating their asses off and I remember that I promised myself to add some sort of cardio to my workouts. I’ve been eating all the food Jessica cooked for me. ALL of it. My half-assed yoga isn’t going to cut it.

  And then he’s turning onto North Canon and we’re at the restaurant.

  The valets come and open each of our doors and only then does Reece let go of my hand. As soon as we’re standing together, he grabs hold of it again. “I promise Graham is much nicer than that phone call might lead you to believe. Omar and Dave will be there, too, so yeah invite Jessica if you want.” As soon as we enter the restaurant, a young man, dressed in a suit and tie says, “Welcome, Mr. Carras, Ms. Vega. Your table is ready. Please, follow me.”

  I turn to Reece and whisper, “You must come here a lot. They’re acting like you’re royalty or something.” He chuckles. “Yeah, my dad loves it here. Since I was a kid, this has been our spot. When I’m in LA, my parents and I meet here for lunch almost every day. It’s convenient, great food and they’re more discreet than a lot of other places in town. We’ll have privacy here.”