by Cynthia Hart
I seemed to lose consciousness for a moment, my mind leaving my body as his cock filled every inch of me and still yearned for more. I felt his thickness, his hardness, his wetness, his want, and replied with my own, grinding and murmuring and biting my lip to keep from screaming lest the whole of Citrus City might hear me from atop our private oasis.
When I returned, my body was splayed across Caden’s, sticky and sweaty and shimmering in the fiery tiki torch’s glow. My fingers dug into the cushion on either side of him, sticky and clenched in the soft fabric as my hips writhed and our bellies merged as I rode him, slowly, gently, taking my time.
Our lips met as I bent to try a new angle and, lip locked and frantic, he pumped away until soft whispers of breath oozed forth with each new thrust. When I tried to pull away, to catch my breath, he shook his head, our thick, bruised lips drizzling across one another, as if to stop me. And so we remained lip-locked, addicted to the sensation of being half-submerged.
Almost immediately I felt the heat and swell of another orgasm fast approaching, and not just mine. Faster and harder Caden thrust, forcing me to jolt and writhe atop the base of his stiff cock, my fertile clit aching for release as the intense vibrations finally sent forth a brilliant explosion of release. I gasped and muttered and cried out, setting off a chain reaction in Caden that found him sliding out of me and, long, tender prick nestled firmly between the shimmering orbs of my rump, burst forth upon my back.
The warm, fertile gushes landed halfway up my back, oozing and splattering as I came again from the powerful sensation, finally unhinging myself from Caden’s lips and, gently, slithering off his body to curl up on the cushion beside him.
He chuckled, then pulled his legs up so that we lay, sprawled out on the comfy sectional together, delightfully spooning. Sticky and naked, dewy and damp, we lay quietly until Caden began to breathe heavily and, eventually, snore!
I chuckled quietly, not wanting to wake him and sure I wouldn’t be long after him. After such powerful orgasms, I was sure I’d be zonked out momentarily but, instead, my heart raced, along with my mind. I couldn’t believe I’d been so forward, so frisky, so fertile as I seduced Caden – and not the other way around – on that glistening, glowing rooftop.
While he snoozed contentedly, I blushed and relived the intimate moments we’d just shared, over and over again, until I felt restless and anxious enough to slither from beneath his strong, protective arm and stand, pacing quietly in the dim glow of the row of exposed bulbs overhead.
Before long I had dressed myself, tugging back on my panties and skirt, my blouse and sandals before, remarkably, deciding to leave. I wanted nothing more than to lie in Caden’s arms, snuggling against his naked body, for the rest of the night, but I knew sleep wouldn’t come unless I was a safe distance from his long, lean, tempting body.
I was going to leave a note, but I’d brought only my tiny “party purse” for the date, and not my usual satchel with its pen and mini-notebook. Instead, I leaned down, kissed Caden’s cheek gently and headed for the edge of the roof, scared if I looked back I’d succumb and slip back into his beautiful arms for the rest of the night.
Chapter 14 :
Caden
“April?”
My voice was hoarse, either from sleeping outside all night or crying out in ecstasy the night before – or both! Either way, I sat up, sore from lying in the fetal position on the sectional furniture and cold from lying naked out of doors for so long. “April?”
I was certain we’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms and even more certain that April wouldn’t just fuck and run like I might have if I hadn’t cared so much about her. I thought perhaps she had found the champagne and orange juice I’d stashed away behind the bar and was busy making us morning mimosas. But as I stood, quickly tugging on my clothes, I found the rooftop patio empty, the tiki torches all gone out and April completely gone.
I shook my head, imagining her stepping out for coffee and scones for us, then remembering she’d have to climb back up six flights of stairs to do so – and doubting she had that much energy after our exuberant gymnastics the night before! I cleaned up hastily, unplugging the exposed bulbs and trashing the abandoned cheese plate and half-empty champagne bottle before using the freight elevator I couldn’t warn April about because she didn’t have a key.
Downstairs the parking lot was empty save for my motorcycle and, hopping on, I headed home for a quick shower before my brunch shift at the Bistro. I hated working Sundays, but it was some of the best money of the week, especially since I worked a double and got that late night money as well. And besides, if it meant the chance to ask April where she’d gone in such a hurry the night before, it would be even more worth it.
But by the time I got there, neck sore from sleeping on it wrong and in need of a pot of coffee to keep going, my naughty nymphet was nowhere to be seen.
“Keisha?” I asked after the morning rush as we all hung around the buffet, snacking on stale muffins and wilting cantaloupe before the kitchen staff broke it down. “Have you seen April this morning?”
She smirked, then shook her head. “She wasn’t supposed to work brunch, player,” she teased. “But she was supposed to work dinner, and she called off tonight, so we had to call someone in to cover her shift.”
Her voice had gone from teasing to concerned and, suddenly, I felt the same way. “I hope she’s all right,” I murmured, wrapping the rest of my uneaten muffin in a black paper napkin marked with the Bistro’s wine glass logo.
Keisha peered back at me curiously. “What?” I asked when the others had left, the buffet barren and empty in their wake. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“No reason,” she lied. “Except… you sound like you really mean that.”
I gawked back at her, jaw slack and mouth agape. “Of course I mean it,” I growled. “What kind of an asshole do you think I am?”
She chuckled. “A big one,” she confessed. “And proud of it, from what I can see. After all, you never worried about me after we hooked up.”
“Sure I did,” I murmured, looking around as if someone might hear. “Right here,” I said, tapping my chest. “Where it counts.”
She drifted off, laughing hysterically. It was the laugh of a girl too young to seduce, but one that I’d seduced anyway. I spent the rest of that day, standing behind the bar, watching women come and go. Some were servers, some regular customers, some former flames, all women I’d slept with, at one time or another, and then thrown away.
They paraded past me, some in waitress uniforms, some in slinky Sunday night dresses, some in maternity clothes, having moved on and found loving, kind husbands to care for them. I marveled at the sheer number of exes I saw that long day and night, not flattering myself with the excess but, instead, sobered by it.
Perhaps it was because April had pumped and dumped me, of all people, that left me feeling vulnerable. But whatever it is, it sucked! I realized I couldn’t even text April because I’d never asked her for her number. And why would I? I never tried for a second date with women I’d slept with, not even if it was a sure thing. After all, there was always another comely young lass ready and willing to fill their shoes. But suddenly I yearned to talk to April about what she’d done, and why, and couldn’t!
Keisha was gone and, thanks to company policy about giving out other employees’ phone numbers, my manager Cliff wasn’t coming off with April’s digits. I hung my head, leaving the Bistro after a long, if profitable, double, standing next to my bike as I recalled that first night I’d flirted with April. Recalling our conversation, I remembered asking her if she wanted a ride. And then, her reply: “No thanks, my bus stop is right around the corner.”
Inspired, I hopped on my bike and drove toward it, happening on a bus stopping just in front of me. I knew she wouldn’t be on it, but I followed it nonetheless, to its first stop, in front of a busy bodega amidst a large number of apartment complexes. I knew she’d said she’d moved h
ome to care for her sick father, moved home to his “house” and felt, instinctively, that it wouldn’t be here.
But the second stop, a few blocks away, fed into a large, meandering neighborhood that just “felt” right. I wasn’t sure why, and maybe I was just fooling myself. I certainly felt foolish, turning into a large, roving neighborhood, with no address and knowing there was no car for me to recognize in the driveway. And yet here I was, twisting and turning after midnight, through barren streets filled with happy, sleeping families, pausing each time I saw a window in the living room window facing the street.
“How pathetic,” I murmured to myself, shaking my head as my helmet rested on the backseat. I’d had a few stalkers track me to my house in my past, and wondered if this was how they felt, high on adrenaline, enjoying the thrill of the chase.
I was on the last street, giving up for the night, about to turn for home when a light turned on in a distant living room, catching my eye. I crept close, expensive engine silent in the deep, dark night. I’d been at it for nearly an hour now, the night late and the rest of the houses on the street more than dark. But not this one. Gauzy curtains covered the left and right side of the window, but not the center.
An old man sat in an easy chair, looking tired and frumpy in a red robe that had seen better days. He was talking, I thought, to the TV at first, but then saw movement out of the corner of the living room.
A flash of red hair, a blur of movement and, suddenly, April stood next to the man, a tray in hand, handing him a glass of water. He took it with a trembling hand as I stood, transfixed, atop my bike, idling at the curb. She had pills on the tray, several bottles full, which she opened and emptied into her hand, one by one, the old man dutifully swallowing them every time.
The smile on her face was forced, dutiful, and she looked tired; so very tired. She finished feeding the old man his pills before disappearing and, when she returned, looked right at me. Or so I thought. I almost ducked, then recognized the remote control in her hand and, momentarily, the flickering blue screen of a TV being turned on. She turned back to the old man, handing him the remote before leaning down to kiss him, gingerly but tenderly.
He smiled, weakly, before turning his attention back to the TV. She drifted away from him, I thought for good, but then paused just before leaving the room. She peered back at him, gazing softly at the old man in his easy chair, eyes already growing sleepy as the TV flickered blue and gold across his face. I thought I saw a tear slide down her face, or perhaps it was just my imagination before she turned and disappeared.
My heart was pounding by the time I eased away from the curb, aware it was too late – and too complicated – to pop in for a visit. Instead I tried to equate the dutiful, weary young woman in the window with the raven haired vixen who had ridden me to a powerful orgasm less than 24-hours earlier. Maybe I’d been an escape for her, I wondered as I sped home. Maybe she’d needed the release more than she’d needed a companion. How well I knew the feeling, I observed wryly.
So why couldn’t I let April go?
Chapter 15 :
April
“Caden?”
The bus stop was otherwise deserted this time of night, dark with shadows and one of them, inching forward to stand beneath a streetlight, strikingly, familiarly handsome.
“What… I thought you were off tonight.”
“I was,” he said, nodding eagerly. “I am.”
“So what are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you,” he replied, looking anxious as I stood before him. I was tired from the long shift at work, and missing Caden powerfully. Suddenly seeing him, it felt like midday instead of midnight.
“Why?” I asked.
He shrugged, leaning against the bus stop like a cologne ad come to life. “I missed you,” he said, making my heart leap. “After you disappeared the other night, I thought I’d see you at work the next day. But you called off. Why?”
I sank down onto the bus stop bench, peering up into his warm, chocolate eyes. “Dad had a doctor’s appointment that morning,” I confessed. “And it didn’t go well. I had to wait at the hospital to get him home safe and pick up his prescriptions on the way, I just knew I wouldn’t make it to work on time.”
“Is he okay?” Caden asked, stopping me in my tracks.
“Who?” I asked, finding it hard to believe a guy like Caden would care about me – or my family.
“Your father,” he said, shocking me further.
“Better now,” I said, words failing me. “Why do you ask?”
He clucked a tongue as if exasperated by my doubtfulness. “I care about you, that’s why, ” he said. “And if your father is important to you, I care about him, too.”
I shook my head in wonder. “Are you… okay?” I asked.
He rolled his eyes and slumped down next to me. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Ever since I met you, everything… changed.”
“Like what?”
“Like… I haven’t slept with anyone since I’ve slept with you.”
I laughed out loud. “That was three nights ago, Caden! How have you made it this far?”
“Seriously,” he said. “I’m being serious here. I mean, I haven’t even thought about sleeping with anyone else, either.”
“Me either,” I admitted. “But then, I haven’t slept with anyone in over a year, so that’s not as hard for me.”
“Well, it is for me. And I wanted you to know that.”
I heard the bus approaching. “So that’s why you waited at the bus stop for me on your night off? To tell me you haven’t slept with anyone in 72 hours?”
He nodded as the bus pulled up. We both watched it, from the seating position, until the driver shrugged and pulled away. “Well,” he teased, playfully nudging my foot with his own. “You’re stuck now.”
“Uh, yeah,” I teased back. “At least until the next bus pulls up.”
He frowned as if he hadn’t thought of that. “When’s that?”
“Relax, player,” I murmured, nudging his foot as I leaned gently back against the Plexiglas booth at my back. “You’ve got an hour or so.”
He beamed. “That’s all the time I’ll need.”
“For what?” I chuckled.
“To convince you I’m for real!”
“How do plan to do that?”
He gazed past me, at a movie ad behind my back, then shook his head. “I have no idea,” he confessed. “I’ve never had to work so hard to woo a girl before.”
Chapter 16 :
Caden
She rolled her eyes at me, those soft, pretty, emerald eyes.
“It’s true,” I insisted, heart pounding with the thought that I had her, captive, after not seeing her for so very long. True, it had only been a day or two, but even that felt like an eternity now that she’d wedged her way into my life.
“So I’m work for you now,” she teased, never giving an inch. I marveled at her beauty, even after a long night of work – even especially after a long night of work. Sprays of auburn hair framed her pale face, casting those warm, intelligent eyes in shadows as the feminine curves of her body pressed against her black Bistro T-shirt and maroon skirt.
I nodded, even though I knew it was a rhetorical question. “I’ve never had to work at… this,” I murmured, inching closer as the night swallowed us whole.
The street was deserted, not just the sidewalk but the road. The bus had been the only vehicle to travel down it in ten or so minutes, to say nothing of the half hour I’d waited for her to finish her side work and walk outside. The bus stop, with its three walls and worn bench and open face, added another added layer of intimacy to the odd, almost surreal night.
“What’s… this?” she asked, drawing her last word out like I had.
“You tell me, April,” I said, sitting up slightly. “I care about you, very deeply. I’ve never… never felt this way about a woman before.”
Her laughter was cold, an ill fit for the warm, almost ma
gnetic curiosity of her eyes. “Bull! Shit! Caden!” she finally gasped, sitting up as well. Standing abruptly, she paced in front of me, using her hands to gesture as she explained, “You’re a player, a bad boy, and you love every minute of it.”
“Correction,” I said, leaning back against the Plexiglas wall behind me as I enjoyed her “lecture” immensely. “I used to enjoy it.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically, pausing to cock a hip and wag a finger at me. “And you will again, the minute a new hostess or waitress or customer pops up to grab your eye.”
“You don’t think they already have?” I offered. “You don’t think I’ve been tempted to sleep with other women since we’ve met? But I haven’t; not one!”
She took her hands off her hips and gave a slow, insulting golf clap. “Congratulations on only fucking one girl for the three weeks you’ve known me, Caden. You’re practically a monk!”
We both laughed, but there was a serious edge to her tone. “If you knew me, better,” I explained, “you’d realize your joke isn’t so funny.”
“That’s just the thing, Caden. I do know you. I know your type, anyway, and you’ll never, ever change.”
I shook my head, standing to join her as we paced in tight circles around one another. What a scene it must have been, two random twenty-something-year-olds circling the empty bus stop in the middle of the night. “I already have,” I insisted. “I don’t do… this.”
I waved my hand around the empty street, the darkened buildings and, finally… us. “I don’t wait for girls at bus stops, April. I don’t pine for them when I wake up after fucking them and find they’re gone, having climbed six floors back down to the street. I don’t ask teenagers how you’re doing and I certainly don’t beg.”
She nodded, as if impressed. I knew better. “If this is you begging, Caden, I’m flattered, but still not impressed.”