Free Falling

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Free Falling Page 16

by Ana Simons


  The light mood is interrupted when my eyes lock on hers again, silently communicating that I want her too. Desperately. Like I’ve never wanted anyone before. That I need her. As much as the air I breathe.

  I brush her mouth with my thumb, tracing the delicate contour of her lips, and she rushes to touch it with her hot tongue. Another jolt of electricity and desire rushes through me, driving me to kiss and nip at her lower lip, her smothered throaty sounds sending me whirling, driving me to the brink of madness.

  My hand slides down to draw a circle around one of her puckered nipples and fondle her full breasts. More hurriedly now, I stroke her stomach, causing goose bumps to rise all over her skin—I feel them as I suck gently on her neck.

  My fingers sneak into her satiny panties, meeting soft, damp curls before sliding further inside. Without ever leaving her lips, I quickly slide the last piece of clothing over her thighs and lift her, holding her tight in my arms as she wraps her legs around my hips, my erection feeling her at last, twitching, eager to return to a place it once knew so well.

  Carefully I lay her on the bed, kissing my way down her neck, collarbone, finally reaching her full breasts. I suck and nibble each one of her hardened rosy peaks, teasing every inch of the delicate soft skin around them. Her back arches and her hands cling to me fiercely, and I’m gone.

  Reaching out for the box, I rip open the package and quickly put the condom on before I enter her slowly, tucking her close to my body, the feel of being buried deep within her warmth nearly sending me out of balance.

  God, I missed her. I missed us. I missed this.

  I begin to move, gently at first, but then with more determined and urgent rhythmic movements. She lifts her hips to meet my body and follow my lead in this dance and my world begins to spin as a wave of desire threatens to break through me any second.

  I stop and try to slow down my breathing.

  With a fluid motion, we shift positions, and she’s now straddling me, her hips moving in a tantalising undulation, initially in a slow swing, but then finding the right cadence, its own perfect rhythm.

  I contemplate her beauty as I watch her moving above me, an expression of pleasure drawn upon her face, raw sounds of passion emerging from her throat. It’s overwhelming, my world dissolving, every single inch of my body and mind aroused by the touch of this woman. This is what makes her so special, this moment so significant it will be forever etched in my mind.

  A sensation of deep warmth and tingly pressure increases around my groin, and my mouth covers hers again with desperate need and primal desire. She returns my kiss with mirrored intensity, her rapid pants drifting me closer to the edge. My hands slip under her buttocks and I thrust my hips forward and push deeper inside her, our senses intensified, my heart rate increasing, our breathing becoming harder and faster, each sigh shorter and hoarser, the feeling that I will never want to pull away from her consuming me in a maddening way.

  She kisses me harder, crying my name into my mouth and increasing her pace. Her body language and sharp inhale tell me she’s reaching her peak, about to convulse around me. I hold her hips firmly and push them back and forth with desperate urgency, following her incoherent shouts and the waves of pleasure that rock through her body. And then I let go and start to feel those same rhythmic contractions, an almost unbearably pleasurable sensation flooding me in a wild and urgent frenzy.

  Holding her steadily against me, I emit a feral, guttural groan and a mind-numbing feeling of suspension bowls me over. It’s simply exhilarating, this fraction of time devoid of thought, this split second where time seems to freeze, this instant nothing seems to matter.

  Nothing, except for this woman.

  *

  “So, what is it, the thing you wanted to ask me before you go?”

  “What do you think?” Wrapping one arm around her, I pull her closer to my chest, to nuzzle against her hair, and leave a long kiss on the top of her head.

  After a weekend that completely surpassed my expectations, it’s time for me to leave. But before Olivia drives me back to the airport, I had to bring her to the Montjuic Magic Fountain. We’re sitting on the stone steps next to the cascade, in a quiet corner, away from the flocks of tourists gathered at the foot of the hill.

  They all came here to watch the water show on the large fountain. And it’s indeed an impressive thing: several moving jets of water rising and falling, hiding before they burst forth again in a spectacular display of colour and light and music, all in sync like a ballet choreography thought over to the very last detail.

  But I didn’t bring her here because of the show, we’re here for a totally different reason.

  “Olivia,” I start tentatively and she turns her head in the direction of my voice. “Would you take me, this lovely bloke here, to be yours again? I promise to be kind, caring and affectionate... and you promise I get to see you naked, get all hot and wet and pant like a mad woman every day of our lives?”

  “God, that was bloody awful…” she gasps in feigned shock. “In that case, I have a request too.”

  “What? You want me to tie you up and spank you a little? That’s not exactly my thing, but if you ask nicely, it should be no problem.”

  Shaking her head, she presses her lips together smothering a snort of laughter.

  “Then what?”

  “Would you also vow... you won’t come up for air until the moment I don’t know if I should moan, cry your name or leave scratches on your back?”

  This is why I love her. I just felt a twitch of happiness in my groin.

  “Oh my God, that was hot! Too bad we can’t put it into practice right away…”

  “Deal?” She smiles, a twinkle of mischief flashing in her happy eyes.

  “This works fine for me. Orgasm etiquette: ladies first. Always. No problem.”

  “Deal!” She closes the agreement herself, snuggling closer into my legs, dropping her head back against my chest. “So, this is what you had in mind? To ask me to be your girl again, in the same place where you’d done it before?”

  I hum in agreement, rubbing her shoulders tenderly.

  “The words were rather shitty, I dare say you even did much better last time, but the idea sure has a lot of potential.”

  I hold her tight and it’s like falling home—to the warm bed you can’t get out of in the morning, to the comfortable, trusting and familiar place, where you can be you, and everyone’s okay with the unedited version of yourself. It’s the place where you simply belong, lots of pictures on the wall everyone treasures, countless memories and laughs no one wants to forget. It’s a bunch of kids screaming and running amok and driving my sister crazy, and you just love them to pieces anyway. It’s where you feel secure, reading a book with a cup of hot coffee in your folks’ back garden and Milo snoring at your feet, because the damn dog just loves you without demanding anything in return. It’s that spot across the threshold where you’ll get the sensation of warmth and peace because it’s a rainy day, but you’re so cosy inside, wrapped in a soft blanket in front of the fireplace before you drift off to sleep.

  Hopefully now, not alone anymore.

  Yes, it’s true, the moment I held her in my arms everything clicked back into place. As if someone had breathed new life into me.

  25 Glimpses

  Three weeks later…

  At last. The goddamned distant echo has finally stopped. And so has the flashing light flickering from the nightstand.

  Thank you.

  Burying deeper into the pillow, I snuggle down between the sheets, my weary body refusing to wake up after another long and demanding night. And what a wonderful night it was…

  I’m still fully immersed in my sleepy warm morning fuzziness when another beeping sound horns in. You’d better check that, some nagging voice at the back of my mind utters repeatedly, at the exact same pace of the sounds of the rain tapping against the window outside.

  With only a shy beam of light intruding through curtains,
my senses struggle to adjust to the dark and to the new day. It takes me a few moments to break through the drowsiness and get my bearings, until I finally manage to prop myself up with my elbow and squint at the mobile still glowing with a notification.

  Sue | Saturday, September 26 | 10:20

  Hey, you two? Make yourselves decent ;-) Dropping off Josh and Emma in 30 minutes.

  Oh sod, it’s not as early as I thought. It’s Josh’s birthday today and I’ve got to hurry. I promised my sister we’d hang out with the kids until they finished preparing everything for the party this evening.

  Wait. 30 minutes?

  Carried away by last night’s memories and the perfume that still lingers in the air, I fall back onto the bed and let my hand search the sheets on my left side.

  That’s a lot of time, enough to spoon, snuggle with her in my arms, her back folded against my chest, her bottom jammed into my shaft and, well, who knows where all that can take us...

  Nowhere, it will take me nowhere. My hand comes up empty.

  I turn but nada. Apparently, there’s no cuddle session in the programme, I’m girlfriend-less in my bed.

  I immediately roll out and clumsily shove my feet into the slippers. A quick look out of the window as I put my t-shirt on, just to confirm that there’s indeed nasty weather outside, and I’m ready to follow the music and the smell of freshly brewed coffee that’s coming from the kitchen.

  When I finally reach the kitchen door and take a peek inside, I have to swallow a giggle. She’s by the counter singing and swaying her butt to—what’s that? Cindy Lauper?—pouring coffee into two large cups and checking on the bread in the toaster.

  I lean against the doorframe with arms crossed over my chest, and stay there for a little while, watching her in silence, absolutely delighted, my eyes travelling all over her.

  From head to toe.

  Thoroughly.

  Damn, you look sexy in those cute tiny shorts…

  And then it hits me again, the realisation that what she means to me and how she makes me feel goes far beyond all that. It’s like being wrapped up in a warm blanket, so soft and comforting. I don’t know, it’s hard to put it into words. All I know is I look at her and feel all warm and fuzzy inside, barely able to contain this urge to hold her and never let her go...

  With the thought in mind I’m a lucky bastard who could really get used to this in no time, to having her around every day brightening up my mornings, I quickly head back to my room. I bought her a present yesterday, nothing big, just a scarf I saw during my lunch hour. It’s a fancy thing with a blueish print; she loves scarves, always wears one, it’s sort of her trademark.

  Back in the kitchen, I sneak up behind her, slip one arm around her waist and nuzzle against her ear. “Morning, my Luv!”

  She tilts her head back, smiling and giving me access to her neck. “Morning, sleepyhead! Hey, when are the kids coming? Shouldn’t we–?”

  “No,” I interrupt whatever she wanted to ask and place the nice wrapping bag on the counter, right in front of her. “I got you this.”

  She peeks inside enthusiastically, but the smile gives place to a frown. “But it’s empty.”

  “Because I have it here already.” I let the scarf unfurl and caress her arm and shoulder with it and–

  “What are you doing you crazy twit?” She giggles.

  I tilt her head towards mine and kiss her. Her lips are soft and move with mine.

  “Wouldn’t it be immensely fun if we gave it some use right away?” I ask as I trail kisses down her neck and shoulder, my hand already sliding down one strap of her top.

  “Hey, handsome, have you seen the time?” She tries to free herself from my grip. “We’re late, we’ve got to hurry. And besides, I need you seated and focused. There’s something I need to talk to you about and I thought we could do it over breakfast.”

  “Sure. In a minute. Or maybe in eight or ten...” I pin her against the counter and hold her there with my hard body. Covering her eyes, I tie the scarf into a knot at the back of her head.

  “You’re blindfolding me? Really? You want to do this–”

  “Here and now,” I whisper into her ear, my hands already roaming everywhere, her hips, her waist, her breasts, my fingertips titillating between her nipples.

  However, she breaks into laughter, a really loud one. But the louder she laughs the harder I press her against my body. “Listen, beautiful, I woke up to an empty bed this morning. So not funny. That’s why I’m punishing you a little now.”

  She keeps laughing like a mad woman.

  I spin her around and crush my mouth on hers.

  Finally, some silence.

  “Is this how it’s going to be? You spoiling me all the time?” she asks in between kisses.

  “Sweetheart, we always strive to deliver outstanding service.”

  “When... are they... arriving?”

  I come up for air. “Twenty minutes… or maybe not that long.”

  “Twenty minutes?” She pushes me away and yanks the scarf from her head. “I’m starving, needing a shower and you want to have fun? Again? Bugger off!”

  “God, woman, you’re so cruel! My poor heart’s bleeding now...”

  A smile tugs at her. “I’m sure you’ll get over it.”

  “It’s been not even a month and you’re already finding excuses? What’s next? A raging headache?” I ask, taking great effort to keep my tone serious.

  She drapes the scarf on her neck and loops the longer side around. It goes well with her delicate features and her eyes, that are bright and happy and full of hope.

  “Hell no, hon, you won’t ever hear that from me.” She sips her coffee, eyes beaming, and licks her lips. “I’m all for endorphins. It’s the best natural treatment for every migraine! And cramps, too. Forget aspirin! And thank you for the scarf, it’s very pretty. I’ll wear it today.”

  I tug at her arm, sitting her on my lap. Yes, I still haven’t given up hope.

  “And I’ve heard it boosts your immune system,” I send a hoarse whisper into her ear. “May I remind you the flu season is almost here?”

  She doesn’t reply to my provocation, though. She leaves a peck on my cheek instead and sits across from me at the table. And we have our breakfast in silence. A silence loaded with a rising and tantalising tension.

  After a while, she lifts her mug and looks fixedly at me over the rim while she takes a long sip of coffee. Then, with a mischievous smile dancing at the corners of her lips, she adds, “And they say if you do it at least four times a week, it will make you look younger. We could have a blast testing that theory, what do you think?”

  That would be like hot fudge on ice-cream, my dear.

  “Having a quick shower. Want to join me and show me what you’re capable of during those five minutes?” She winks.

  I almost choke on my coffee. My eyes scan hers and find an I-need-you-right-now fire in her gaze that makes my heart leap through the roof.

  Seriously, what respectable guy would refuse such offer?

  Well, not this one. It would really be a sin to let such opportunity go to waste...

  *

  What a disaster.

  Twenty minutes later, not one minute less, not one minute more, my sister was already coming up in the lift, about to knock on my door, and I was still half naked, tying up my shoes and scanning the room, desperately looking for my sweater somewhere lost in the middle of scattered clothes and sheets cascading off the bed and hanging to the floor.

  Gosh, we did that mess?

  Olivia, of course, refused to give me a hand and just kept laughing like a maniac, teasing me with only a tiny towel around her bust line and her butt peeking out at me from underneath, while she combed her hair leisurely, driving me to absolute madness.

  But that was two hours ago.

  *

  “But can’t we really go to the park today?” Josh asks Olivia, with a half pout on his face. He’s on a chair by the stove, peering
into the pot, stirring the pasta with her help.

  “But look, it’s pouring, sweetie... Here, see if it’s already al dente. We don’t want it all gummy-like and soft, okay?” She offers him a test she has rolled on a fork.

  He shrugs, having no idea whether the thing is cooked or not. “I think I’m a lesbian.”

  Olivia swallows back a chuckle. “Why do you think you’re a lesbian, kiddo? That makes no sense.”

  “Sure it does. Lesbians like girls, don’t they? At least that’s what Ben told me at school. Wait, that bugger lied to me?”

  “Well... lesbians do like girls, but–”

  “I think I’m in love. With Sarah, from Ms Patel’s class. That makes me a lesbian, doesn’t it?”

  “No, sweetie, it doesn’t work that way...”

  Olivia carries on with her very educational explanation, but I’m not listening anymore. I can’t take my eyes off her, off her face, off her smile, or off the way she strokes his hair and talks to him.

  My mind gets carried away by this particular picture, hoping it never changes. It feels like a glimpse into what our life could be—no, can be—hopefully very soon. I’m so thrilled about it I even fear it’s not real, that tomorrow I might wake up and find out that, after all, there’s no one to call in the morning and then again at night before I go to sleep, that there are no more planes to catch on weekends, that there’s no point thinking about how we’re going to make this work.

  “Okay, I’m straight not lesbian. All good. But is it cooked or not? I’m starving!”

  “Look, teaching you a trick.” She pulls a couple of strands out of the pot and blows to cool them off. “Grab one and throw it against the backsplash!”

  “Gak, but that’s gross!”

  “No, it’s not. If it sticks to the tile, then it’s ready!”

  Which he does. “It is! It is! Can I throw another one? It looks like those gummy, sticky things mommy hates. But can’t we really go? Uncle Brian always takes me there, me and Milo.”

  “That’s lovely,” she comments, smiling, as she drains the spaghetti in the sink.

 

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