Taking Summer

by Emily Bishop

  Another wave of ecstasy hit, and I rode it out.

  Suddenly, we were tearing at each other’s clothes, and I smoothed my hands over his rock-hard chest.

  “Uh uh uh,” he teased, and then he grabbed my wrists again and pinned them above me, rendering me completely helpless under his touch.

  His breath growing increasingly ragged, he leaned in and rested his forehead momentarily against mine. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice was laced with pure awe.

  My heart squeezed in reply.

  His lips came crashing down again, and I pulled them to mine, tugging him closer.

  And then the world tilted as his fingers found my clit. He began massaging the most sensitive part of my body, with nothing but thin lace in between me and his touch.

  “You’re so wet for me,” James growled.

  I lost the ability to think, let alone speak, as I surrendered to his contagious effect. Holy fuck. This was amazing.

  He continued on, relentlessly, while my hands remained entrapped under his firm hold.

  “James.” I moaned out, calling out his name into the night.

  With a sudden roar, James tore off my panties with one hand, while the other continued to hold my wrists together.

  “I’m going to make you come now,” he said, so matter-of-factly, that it sent a fresh electric shock through my pussy.

  The lawyer in him was in charge, and I was at his mercy.

  His fingers were now in full contact with my clit, and he massaged and circled until I couldn’t breathe.

  Whimpering, James rose up to meet my lips with his, and he continued kissing me with a fierce intensity while two fingers slipped inside me, then out again, relentlessly. My whole body quivered under his touch.

  Seeing stars, I attempted to close my eyes, but James wasn’t having it.

  “Uh uh, Summer. I want to see you come. Open your eyes,” he demanded.

  So I obeyed.

  There was something incredibly hot about letting a man witness my orgasm. Caught under his fiercely heated gaze, I surrendered into him as he continued slipping his fingers in and out. He knew exactly what chord to strike, and the wave climbed upward until the fire exploded in me.

  I screamed out his name, and then collapsed into him, exhausted. He released my hands from his grip, and I seized at this window of opportunity. I trailed my hand down until it rested on his Calvin Klein underwear.

  I tugged down, and I was in for a delicious surprise.

  Whoa.

  He was rock hard and ready for me. I curled my fingers around his erection, relishing the feel of him in my hands.

  This time, James let out a moan. Without wasting another second, I guided him into me, inch by inch.

  A pleasure so intense it bordered on torture seized me as the full length of his dick slipped in, reaching my inner core.

  I lifted up my head and watched as he pumped slowly in and out of me, until the movements picked up.

  How erotic. I called out his name again.

  James groaned in delight, and when I looked up at him, he caught my eyes.

  “You like watching me inside you?” he asked, his gaze darkening.

  “Yes, yes.” I gasped as the second orgasm built up inside me, ready to explode.

  James timed his next move to perfection. He trailed his hand down teasingly, and then rested two fingers on my clit, massaging it in torturously slow circles as he continued to slip in and out.

  “You like this?” he growled.

  Yes, yes, yes. I couldn’t breathe.

  For the second time that night, I came harder than I ever had before. James rose up to meet me, and as he spilled into me a second later, I was whole.

  His entire back shuddered from the impact of our shared orgasm, and he slid out of me, spent.

  As James plopped down to lay beside me, backs resting on the hood of the Jeep, both of us panted for our dear breaths as if we had just run a marathon. No words were needed to define this moment.

  Our chemistry did this.

  I had a sudden urge to punch thin air in triumph. At long last, I had orgasmed in the most jaw-dropping, mind-numbingly fantastic way.

  James was a perfect reminder of what sex should be like.

  “That was fucking amazing,” James murmured above my head, his breath tickling my ear.

  Mind-blowlingly amazing, yes.

  Elated, I instinctively curled up against him and rested my head against his powerful chest.

  “Really though, are you secretly a CIA spy?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

  James’s entire chest shook with laughter, a comforting rattle that soothed me. “What on earth talking about?”

  “Er, nothing. It’s just that… it should be a crime to have such a sculpted chest.” I voiced my thoughts freely, before realizing that thoughts should stay hidden. In my case, they should stay buried underneath an Egyptian pyramid. A blush exploded across my cheeks, and I was eternally grateful that my head was tilted away from James’s knowing eyes.

  “Are you blushing?”

  How did he know me so well?

  I chose to answer him with my big fat silence.

  For a while, we settled on remaining quiet, save for the gentle rain against the car window. The storm was finally dying down.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if our intense lovemaking had something to do with the storm, like it was some kind of metaphor. We had exploded and collided with each other, and now we were sated. Like the storm, we were fading into stillness. “How does a warm dinner and some hot tea with almond milk sound?” James murmured.

  Mmm. That sounded fabulous. But not as fabulous as James, who reached over and captured my lips in his, kissing me so deeply that another moan caught in my throat. I looked up at him, mesmerized by how this tall, dark, and handsome man had wound up in my life.

  James must’ve had the same thought. “You’ll be the end of me, Summer,” he said.

  In a way, he was right. We just didn’t know it then.

  Chapter 8

  James

  I caught Summer trailing her fingers along my bookshelves, studying each book in such an alluring way that my cock twitched at the sight of her.

  She was clad in one of my T-shirts and one of my flannel shirts that covered up her long bare thighs, and her hair was still wet, tied up in a messy bun, lending her a disheveled I-just-got-out-of-bed appearance.

  I wanted her. Right now.

  Hold it there, James. At least until after dinner.

  I cleared my throat, startling Summer. She let out a squeal and jumped back, eyes wide in surprise. As she spotted me, with my arms folded and leaning against the doorway, she blushed, sending shivers down my spine.

  She smiled then, an earth-shattering smile that sent me to closer to the edge.

  I bit back my lip to suppress the groan building up inside me.

  “I see you’re entertaining yourself,” I pointed out, nodding my head toward the row of books encased against the wall.

  “Albert Camus, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, F. Scott Fitzgerald.” She paused before rolling her eyes. “What a cliché.”

  As always, Summer threw me off.

  Frowning, I said, “They are all classics for a reason. Just saying.”

  Summer shrugged as a mischievous gleam passed across her eyes. “Sci-fi novels. Just saying.”

  “You have five seconds to take that back.”

  Summer threw me a pout, shaking her head firmly.

  “One…two…” I crept toward her, and she squealed again, backing herself into a corner.

  Sure enough, a second later she bumped up against my bookshelves.

  “James, nooo!” Summer laughed, but I ignored her.

  Lunging toward her, I had her up against the bookshelf, her small frame trapped underneath my arms.

  She was trembling. Fire shot up my body at her reaction.

  Holy fuck.

  What was she doing to me?

  Growl
ing, I leaned in and planted a kiss down her neck. One. Two. Three.

  Her breath came in ragged pants, and my heart quickened at the sound.

  Whimpering, Summer wrapped her arms around the nape of my neck and pulled me in.

  Our lips collided together, two balls of fire clashing head on.

  I’m going to make her come so hard—

  A throat cleared across the room, awkwardly breaking the spell.

  Flustered, it took me a second to calm my racing heart.

  Summer’s eyes were wide in horror now, and she quickly pushed me away from her. I caught a glimpse of another blush forming, this time the shade of a bright red apple, and I longed to rest my hands on her cheeks to steady her.

  “Hi, Juanita.” Summer’s voice came out squeaky, and I cocked my head to the side, amused.

  I didn’t bother turning around. I knew what Juanita was going to say.

  “Sorry for the intrusion, but dinner is ready. And there is no bigger crime then letting my cooked meals go cold.”

  As Juanita turned away, the click-clatter of her low-pumps made contact with the floorboards as she marched off. Sassy as always.

  Juanita had been sent straight from the heavens. When my sister and I were growing up, she used to watch over us like a hawk and separate us whenever it looked like my sister would throw pudding in my face. She fattened us up with her minced pies and baked goods. Juanita was there through it all, from the childish tantrums, to my high school sweetheart crushes and stoner phase, down to the nitty and gritty uglies of my father’s high-profile trial. While a lot of our friends turned their backs on us when it looked like my father would be prosecuted for a suspected money laundering charge, Juanita never left our side.

  Summer’s question brought me back to the present. “Love her sassiness, but how embarrassing was that?”

  I looked down, smiling.

  Wasn’t she a mind reader? “Not as embarrassing as dropping references from my diaper days. She has this habit of doing this with all my…” I hesitated.

  What were we? Acquaintances? A casual fling?

  The uncertainty rushed in, and Summer was quick to settle my thoughts.

  “You don’t have to explain yourself. Now, let’s go eat.” Summer wrapped her small warm hand in mine, and my stomach fluttered in response.

  As I let her guide me towards the dining table, I couldn’t resist thinking, did I want more with Summer?

  *

  “Let me get this straight…you’re vegan?” Juanita looked crestfallen. Shattered. Blown Away.

  I flicked my eyes over toward Summer, and she looked, well, deeply apologetic as hell.

  Was that another blush making its way across her perfect skin?

  Smirking, I studied the situation, letting it unfold naturally.

  Juanita stood over Summer with a plate piled high with her steaming roast dinner.

  Another flare of admiration hit me. This woman was full of surprises, and I loved every second of it.

  “Yes, Juanita I’m so sorry. You went to all the trouble—" Summer stammered but Juanita cut across smoothly with a laugh.

  “I should be the one sorry, mija. I should have checked with you first. I just assumed…” Juanita collected herself in time, before adding, “Let me fix you something else.”

  “No! Please don’t, I’ll be fine.”

  This time I interjected. “No way Summer, you’re not slipping past Juanita with an empty stomach. What do you want?”

  Summer darted her gaze backward and forward between me and Juanita. Her shoulders slumped in defeat as she realized I was serious.

  My tone always did it. Brisk and straight to the point. Just how I liked it.

  “Yes, of course, James is right. What can I fix up for you?”

  Summer smiled meekly. “Well a peanut butter sandwich would be great right now.’”

  Juanita looked horrified. “Dios mio, Summer, that’s hardly considered a meal!”

  “I’m OK, I swear.’” Summer was doing a poor job of convincing Juanita.

  “Let me whip up a veggie curry or something.” The finality in Juanita’s voice could not be mistaken. There was no winning with her when it came to food.

  Shrugging, Summer accepted with a defeated smile and then relaxed back in her chair as Juanita marched away swiftly.

  I turned toward Summer. “You’re a vegan why?” I asked intrigued.

  I bet she got asked a thousand times, but I needed to get a glimpse inside that incredibly intriguing mind of hers.

  “Hmm. When I was about four months old, my mother snapped a picture of me in a baby bath in our family cottage in Colorado. Can you imagine, I’m all small and pink in a baby bath and standing there over me, keeping guard, are my dogs Troy and Tito, my cat Sharon, and our two Guinea pigs. In the picture I’m looking at them and they’re looking at me. I think that was the exact moment that I realized animals are benign, fantastic creatures. They’ve got a life and personality of their own, you know? As I grew older, our suburban pets were always there keeping me company through the pains of childhood and puberty. Once that relationship was established, it was hard for me to sit there and eat meat. It always felt like I was betraying my love for animals. So in the end, after a million screaming matches with my mom, I finally persuaded her to let me be vegan. I believe I was like fourteen at the time.” As Summer shared her story, my eyes never left her, drinking in every detail that passed across her beautiful features. Form the warmth and softness in her eyes as she spoke, to the way she bit her lips and gazed off into the distance as she recounted her story, I couldn’t help but fall deeper into her.

  It was a damn good story.

  I let her words settle in and tried my best to be discreet as I wolfed down my roast. Summer didn’t seem to mind, and she watched me with a hint of amusement and mischief.

  She changed the subject. “Tell me about yourself, James. You get all stormy when I mention journalism or the media…”

  Before I could stop myself, I tightened, wincing at the mention of those words, and she caught it.

  “That. That right there. What’s that about?” Her voice softened a notch.

  It dawned on me in that moment that for all our differences, Summer had this streak of depth and determination to her that I identified in myself.

  She wasn’t one to give up or give in too easily.

  The question was glaringly uncomfortable, and it threatened to tear me back to the past. The past that still kept me up occasionally, tossing and turning in an agonizing restlessness that pushed me closer toward insomnia.

  Yet something about Summer made me want to lower my guard.

  “Bruna…” just saying her name made my skin crawl. I stopped in my tracks. A battle of emotions and uncertainty were taking hold, but Summer reached across the table and laced her fingers in mine.

  There it was again. That electric current that surged through her fingers to mine, travelling down my back.

  Summer squeezed my hand, giving me a gentle nudge to go on.

  Little did she know that it was getting increasingly harder to concentrate with her skin on mine. It sent me back to earlier tonight, when I’d devoured her supple breasts… I shut down the memory just as quickly, for the sake of my sanity.

  I pushed on. “I thought Bruna was the one for a while. We grew up together. She knew me inside out. At least I thought she did. But as I finished law school and started working for a corporate law firm, working my way up the ladder, Bruna had her own plans of acting school and getting her big TV break. It was always her dream to become an actress. One day, she got her first gig at a sitcom show. From there, she slowly tried to make her way up. I don’t know. The industry changed her, and deep down I knew it. But I refused to see it.” I paused, taking a sip of my beer. Letting the cool liquid run through my veins, I summed the courage to open that part of me that I had spent so long trying to bury.

  Summer remained still in her seat, yet her hand never left mine.
In fact, she had started caressing my thumb, muddling my thoughts.

  Fuck. Where was I?

  I scanned my brain desperately, all clarity momentarily gone. And then a switch flickered back on again.

  Ah yes. Bruna. The ex from hell. The wedding.

  I continued my story, a lump forming in my throat.

  “The warning signs were there, but I was blinded by my love for her. Or should I say, the past version of her. I was refusing to acknowledge who she had become. I proposed to her, and she accepted. I wanted something small and quiet. She wanted a big televised wedding. You see, a couple of different magazines approached her, offering a lump sum of money and a lengthy spread in their magazines, in exchange for documenting the wedding. Against my better judgement and gut instinct, Bruna convinced me to agree to it. And then on the day, I was waiting for her at the altar. The media was capturing everything, cameras were everywhere. In she came looking so beautiful, but conflicted. She walked halfway up the altar, and then faltered. She looked up at me, all teary-eyed, and then said, ‘I can’t do this. I’m so sorry.’ She left me and ran out of the church. Straight into the arms of her co-worker. They drove off in a limo together and left me there…” I couldn’t go on.

  The pain was immediate, a sharp ache in my heart. I slipped my hands away from Summer and took another long gulp of my beer. I felt Summer’s eyes boring into mine, but I just couldn’t look at her.

  The silence stretched on agonizingly, and then Summer spoke, her voice breaking. “Oh, James. I’m so sorry—" I was about to bite back, to tell her I didn’t need her pity, but then as if almost of their own accord, my eyes lifted to meet hers and all words abandoned me.

  Summer looked destroyed, her eyes watery. She didn’t bother trying to hide her distress. I let her see me, the real me, the pain coursing through me, and she unraveled under my gaze.

  I collected my tongue again and spoke bitterly. “Yeah, turns out our wedding fiasco made headlines. All of New York exploded. At that point, I was a senior corporate lawyer, but no one could do business with me without asking me if I was OK. It was brutal. The betrayal, the dishonesty, the lies. And the media caught it all. The grief and pain on my face when I realized what she was doing. That was played on and on like a loop.”