The Arrival of You

by Cranford, B.

  “Fuck yes. However you want, for as long as you want, baby.”

  I pushed back against his hand, his finger, before wrapping my own hand around his cock and beginning to stroke, mimicking the movement and the pressure I’d watched him apply only moments earlier. Together, we found a rhythm, one that was so close to sending me over the edge, I had to loosen my hold on him and slap my hands against his chest. I wasn’t sure if I planned to push him away or pull him closer, but he decided for me—by removing his finger from my body and stepping back.

  “Condom. I can’t wait until I have you on my bed.” He shook his head, like he couldn’t believe his own impatience, but since I was in the exact same boat, I could and did believe it.

  I wanted to feel him inside my body, and I didn’t want to wait a single second longer than necessary. I’d give him time to find and roll on the protection and that was it. Nodding, I watched as he opened the door and leaned out of the shower only far enough to reach one of the drawers at the sink, then turned and pressed my hands against the cool, tile wall. I tilted my hips enough that there could be no mistake about what I wanted and expected to happen next and was rewarded with a guttural groan and the feel of two fingers tracing the seam of my ass cheeks when his task was complete.

  “Fuck me, that’s a pretty sight. Look at you.” Lucas came up behind me, his cock rubbing along the same path his fingers had just traced. He leaned forward enough that I could feel the press of his chest against my back, the water from the shower drip, drip, dripping down around us. I had the fleeting thought that he must be blocking me from the majority of the spray, but it flitted away when I felt the telltale bite of his teeth on my shoulder.

  “Lucas,” I gasped, one hand raising from the wall to reach back, landing on his hip, my nails digging into his skin. “Yes.”

  “I’m going to leave bite marks all over your back. Okay?”

  I nodded frantically, my fingers on his hips flexing, doing some biting of their own. Wiggling against him, I tried to tell him with my body what I couldn’t say with my lips because words had begun to escape me. Get inside me, now. Don’t wait anymore. I need it, I need it. I was begging him in my head and with my hips as I circled them, seeking comfort from him that he was still withholding.

  “Am I making you crazy, baby?” he asked, chuckling as the crinkling sound of the condom wrapper echoed against the glass and tile walls of the shower. I could feel the movement of his arms as he slipped the rubber on and tilted further forward in an even more blatant invitation.

  I might as well have shouted, “Take me now,” for how obvious I was being.

  And who cared? I knew what I wanted, and I knew he wanted the same. Ain’t nobody ever got what they wanted by being silent about it.

  “Because you’re making me crazy,” he confessed, his lips kissing over the bite he’d just left on my skin, before traveling across to my spine and down a little lower. I felt the lick of his tongue, the scrape of his teeth, then the urgency of his hand as it came around and in front of me to grip my right breast in a punishing hold. It was followed by the brush of his dick along my ass, as he guided himself toward my pussy.

  And then, finally, I could feel him, the blunt tip of his cock pressing against my entrance, the wash of his labored breath against the back of my neck as he sighed. He made a rough sound as he inched in, as I pressed back against him, welcoming him into my body. “Luc, please, I won’t break.”

  I had to tell him that. I needed him to know that. I don’t know why the thought suddenly occurred to me, except for the fact that I was desperate for him to use me. To fuck me as hard and as fast and filthy as he wanted to. As I wanted him to.

  Still going slow, he kissed up my neck, and moved the hand on my breast up to my cheek, putting pressure there until I had no choice but to turn my head toward him. His teeth were sunk deep into his bottom lip, his eyes flinty and hard. His breathing was increasingly ragged, as if his control was at the edge and ready to snap.

  Please snap, I thought desperately.

  And then, just before he thrust into me hard enough to press my whole body against the cool tile wall, he whispered, “You won’t break, pretty girl. But I might.”

  4

  Lucas

  To say I was at the limits of my control would be a massive understatement. I’d just had my girl—hard—against the wall of my shower and it wasn’t enough.

  I wanted and needed more.

  Sliding out, I turned her toward me, making sure she could see in my eyes how serious I was. “That’s just the beginning. Now the real fun begins.”

  She answered me with a smile that crossed from sinful into downright dirty and would have put me on my knees if not for the small space surrounding us.

  Again.

  I’d fingered her in an aeroplane bathroom and now I’d fucked her against a shower wall.

  Next—finally—would be the bed. My big, wide, spacious bed that I planned to use every centimeter of.

  “Wow, if that wasn’t the real fun beginning, then I’m going to need you to feed me before it does.” She wiped a dramatic hand over her forehead then fluttered it down to her flat belly. “I might pass out otherwise.”

  “We’ll finish up in here then grab a bite to eat,” I said, barely resisting the urge to grab my dick and tell her I had something to feed her. Since my goal was to keep her here with me and interested in seeing what this thing was between us as long as possible, it seemed to be the smart choice. Didn’t want to drive her away with lewd jokes. “Yes?”

  She nodded, then glanced at the shower stand that held a bottle of shampoo, body wash and an old razor that I should’ve probably thrown in the bin before I left for America. Three months sitting in a shower, getting rusty and going unused? Yeah, that needed to go. I grabbed it from the shelf, remembering at the same time the way she’d told me her hair wasn’t like mine.

  I didn’t really understand that, except for the fact that I remembered sharing a bathroom with my sister when we were younger and her having six bottles of shit to my one. So, maybe it was the same thing? Regardless, it seemed to matter to her and since she mattered to me, I wanted to make sure she was good.

  “I can get your, ah, special shampoo”—I gestured around her head because I was out of my depth, but it won me another one of her pretty smiles, so I didn’t much care. “The bags are still by the front door.”

  Shaking her head, she reached for the body wash instead. “I’ll wash again later. You know, after the fun.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine. I get the feeling you’re just going to mess me up again anyway.”

  I tried to look innocent but given the way her laugh echoed around us, I didn’t think I’d managed to pull it off.

  Oh well, it wasn’t like I hadn’t already given her good reason to think I was the polar opposite of innocent.

  Not after the way we’d gone at it, first in that tiny bathroom, miles above land and sea, and then in my almost as tiny, enclosed shower.

  * * *

  “You can just leave it there, if you want.” I pointed to the chair that sat in the corner of my bedroom. “Do you want to unpack anything? I can, like, clear a drawer for you or whatever?” I nodded down at her suitcase, which was larger than the little red carry-on she’d had on the plane, but still not as big as the suitcases Erin had taken with us on our trip to America.

  It seemed like so long ago I’d been infatuated with Erin, willing to take three months away from my job as an osteopath—which was no easy feat, considering how far in advance we can be booked with appointments—and follow her to the States.

  I hadn’t thought about her in weeks, but meeting Bianca, feeling like this about her . . . it was so different to what I’d thought I had with Erin, I couldn’t help but think I was the “hopeless romantic” my sister called me at best, and a bloody fucking idiot at worst.

  “I don’t need a drawer, Luc.” Bianca rolled her suitcases toward the chair
and propped the red one on the cushion, turning the larger gray one on its side and starting to unzip it. “I’m only here for a few days.”

  “You know you can stay here as long as you want, right?” I didn’t want to scare her, but I also didn’t want her to leave and never look back.

  She crouched down in front of her bag, not responding at first. I could hear and see her rifling through her things, and when she stood and turned to face me again, she was holding what looked like a large toiletries bag and a clean set of clothes.

  When we’d hopped out of our shared shower, I’d wrapped a towel around her, then given her a T-shirt of mine to wear. I knew she had nothing on underneath and, considering the fun I was planning for after we’d eaten lunch, I didn’t figure it was a problem.

  Except she looked like she was planning on getting dressed. And that was, to me, a problem.

  I wanted her naked.

  But then again, I also wanted the chance to get to know her better, so I figured I’d just have to deal with it.

  “I’m just going to leave these in the bathroom for now, if that’s okay? I have a feeling if I don’t put it in there now, something might make me forget.” She puckered her lips a little and slid her eyes left, as if she was thinking hard about what could possibly make her forget. It was cute and playful and set my mind at ease.

  She wasn’t getting dressed.

  She was being prepared. Like a boy scout. Or a girl scout, I guess.

  Whatever, some kind of sexy scout that was ready for the kind of fun that made one’s mind fog.

  “No worries.”

  “One second.” She disappeared into the bathroom that adjoined my bedroom, then came back a moment later empty-handed. “Okay, so . . . lunch?”

  “Yep, what are you in the mood for?”

  “What do you have?”

  “Considering I’ve been gone for like three months, I’m guessing nothing much edible.” I thought about my pantry and the fridge and wondered what I’d find if I dared open it. It wasn’t like I ate badly—in fact, I typically ate pretty well and took care of myself. But I’d cleared out the fridge when I’d left and the stuff that was left wasn’t anything that could be eaten without adding the kinds of ingredients I didn’t have handy.

  “Let’s go look. And if there’s nothing, we could always order something, right?”

  “Order something?” I gave her a puzzled look, wondering if she’d believe me if I tried to convince her that takeaway and delivery weren’t available here. “You’re not in Kansas anymore, Bianca.”

  She gaped at me for a moment, then knowledge dawned in her eyes. “You’re not tricking me again. God, I felt like an idiot on the airplane.”

  I laughed, remembering her face when I’d pretended to be insulted by her implication that all Australians were criminals, like our convict ancestors. “The look on your face when you tried to talk your way out of that was gold.”

  “You’re an asshole,” she retorted, no hint of anger in her words. Even if there had been, the light in her eyes and the way her lips curled upward told me she was amused, even if she didn’t find it quite as funny as I did.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’d believe that if you weren’t laughing as you said it.”

  Sobering, I plastered a grim look on my face. “Bianca, can you Evers forgive me?” I punctuated my terrible play on her surname with a cheesy grin. In reply, she rolled her eyes and turned to walk out of the room.

  But not before joking over her shoulder, “I’m going to have to watch that sense of humor like a Hawke, aren’t I?”

  “Good one,” I replied, struggling to get the words out through my laughter as I followed her toward the door.

  “I thought so.” She stopped abruptly and spun to face me, surprising me when she pulled me close for a quick kiss. “So, food? Delivery?”

  I tried to follow her mouth as she pulled back, but she dodged me with a wily look, leaving me no choice but to reply. “Let’s go check out what I have and then decide. We might find something amazing, like two-minute noodles or an unopened box of Coco Pops, and I know I have some long-life milk in the cupboard.” I remembered Mum cautioning me to buy some before I left so I wouldn’t be stranded without tea or coffee when I got home.

  “Coco Pops?”

  “Cocoa Krispies,” I clarified, singing, “Just like a chocolate milkshake, only crunchy.”

  The sound she made as I serenaded her with the old commercial jingle—man, I didn’t know I could get turned on by a snort, but every day you learn something about yourself.

  “Are they different? Aside from the name?”

  “Yeah, kinda. I want to say that yours are flatter. Like, ours are puffed up more? I don’t think I can explain it, you need to see for yourself.”

  “Then I really hope you have them. I love chocolate milkshakes and Cocoa Krispies.”

  “Same.” Another thing we have in common, I thought, liking the idea that we matched in some ways. I wanted to find more things we agreed on.

  Hell, I wanted to find all the things we didn’t agree on too. I had a feeling that arguing with her would be as much fun as just talking to her was. Maybe even as much fun as making out and fooling around with her.

  Okay, probably not as much fun as that. But we hadn’t had enough time to explore each other yet. And I was determined to make time for that to happen.

  First step had been getting her off the plane and into my house. #NailedIt.

  The next step would be finding out all about her and using it to make her fall in love with me. Because as crazy as it sounded, I couldn’t help but think I was already half in love with her.

  Sometimes you just know.

  And that I was falling in love with her was something I just knew.

  Could I be wrong? Yeah, sure. I was aware enough to admit this wasn’t the first time I’d thought I’d caught some very real feelings for someone. *Cough Erin cough*. But I didn’t think so.

  Because this thing—it felt different from all the other times. It felt like what my dad had told me about meeting my mum for the first time.

  It felt like what I’d been waiting for. And now that it was here, now that she had arrived, I wasn’t going to let it go.

  * * *

  I looked down at the empty bowl of cereal in front of me, then over at Bianca, who was seated beside me at the small table in my kitchen. “Thoughts? It’s better, right?”

  She closed her eyes as she scooped another spoonful of Coco Pops into her mouth, sliding the spoon out in a way that made my dick twitch. “Mmm, so good. But better? I don’t know. I think I’d need to do a side-by-side comparison.” She opened her eyes and looked over at me, and all I could think about was her on the aeroplane toilet lid in front of me, sliding something else—me—out of her mouth and watching me as she did. “Lucas? You okay over there?”

  “Yep, yes, absolutely. Side-by-side comparison.” I nodded because distraction made me a bloody idiot.

  “Maybe I’ll buy a box of this before I leave to take home with me.”

  “Or we could go to the American food store and buy a box of Cocoa Krispies and have our very own cereal comparison party.”

  “Sounds wild.”

  “Oh, pretty girl, you haven’t seen wild yet. Wait until I break out the American chocolate bars and put them side-by-side with Cadbury chocolate.” I mimed an explosion around my head. “Your mind will be blown.”

  She sucked in a breath between her teeth. “I don’t know if I can handle that level of craziness. It sounds . . . intense.”

  “Oh, it is. But think of all the fun we could have with the chocolate after the taste test is done.” I let my mind wander, slipping out of playful and back into the dirty territory where I felt at home. At least, I did when I was with her. Because I couldn’t stop thinking about all the different ways I could have her. “We could melt it.”

  “Melt it? And make hot chocolate?” She bit her lip, her innocent question in stark r
elief to the burn of desire that I could see in her eyes.

  “I was thinking more of tipping it over this lickable, bitable skin”—I paused to reach out and run a finger up her arm and watched as goosebumps made a trail in my wake—“and then licking it off.”

  “That—that sounds better than hot chocolate,” she breathed, sliding closer to me. “Tell me more.”

  “Well, once I licked it off you, since we’re all about the comparisons, I’d have to lick your cunt and see how it measured up.” I moved my hand from her arm down to her thigh, inching it up little by little as I spoke. “I mean, chocolate can be pretty sweet, but then again, I get the feeling that so can you.”

  Her eyes closed again, this time not because she was savoring the cereal, but because she was savoring the feel of my hand on her leg. Creeping higher and higher, until my fingers brushed the curls that hid her pussy.

  “Then what?” she asked, scooting forward on her chair and spreading her legs.

  “Oh, you know . . .” I trailed off, sliding my hand back down her leg a little way. She closed her legs fast—fast enough to trap my hand. “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “Don’t tease me.” She snapped open her eyes and looked right at me, determination clear as day in her gaze. “Touch me.”

  I nodded, happy to take instruction from her. “Spread your legs again, pretty girl.”

  She obeyed immediately, and I rewarded her by sliding my hand back up her leg and into those curls, which were wetter now than they had been only a moment earlier. “You’re wet.”

  “And wanting, in case you didn’t notice.”

  “I did. And god forbid I leave you wanting.” I slid off my chair and to my knees, gripping the front two legs of her chair and using my strength to turn it—and her—to face me. “Pull up your shirt, Bianca. Now.”

  She responded to my demand without hesitation, whipping it up and over her head, leaving her sitting in front of me, naked and so goddamn sexy that I had to remind myself to breathe. “Good girl.”