Sweet Surrendering

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “In my wild youth. Good-bye, Miss Clarke.” He chuckled and hung up. I glared at him and shook my head. And then I went back to work.

  “So,” he said as we got into the elevator at the same time that night. I knew he’d totally planned this, but I wasn’t complaining.

  “So.”

  “Your place or mine?” he said, moving closer to me and taking my hand. I pulled mine away, because we were still in the building and I wasn’t taking any chances.

  “Well, I have a roommate, sooo . . .”

  “Ah, right. My place then. I’d like to see your place though.” I didn’t want him to see it until I’d cleaned it and then the housekeeper had come and then I’d cleaned it again.

  “Maybe sometime. But do you mind if I go home first and get some things? Not that I don’t love using your shower gel, but your shampoo sucks.”

  He nodded and the elevator reached the ground floor and we exited together.

  “See you . . . in an hour? Don’t worry about eating. I’ll take care of dinner.” Ah, a man who took charge. Sexy.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.” There was a pause, as if both of us wanted to kiss the other good-bye, but we couldn’t. People walked around us, oblivious.

  I ducked my head and headed out the door and he followed behind me and then we went our separate ways.

  My phone rang a few seconds later.

  “Hello, Miss Clarke.” I turned around and he was still visible about a hundred feet down the sidewalk.

  “Hello, Mr. Blaine. Was there something you needed?”

  “No. I just wanted to ask you what you wanted for dinner.” I swore I could see his smile shining at me from this distance.

  “Surprise me. Good-bye, Mr. Blaine. I’ll see you in an hour.” I ended the call and kept walking toward the T.

  About ten minutes later, my phone buzzed with a text message from him.

  How do you feel about pizza?

  I shook my head and typed a response.

  Pizza and I have been in an intimate relationship for many years. I would marry pizza if I could.

  I sent it and waited for a response as I walked back up to the street level and started toward my apartment. My phone buzzed with a response.

  Who am I to stand in the way of true love? Pizza it is.

  I smiled and put my phone away. Texting and walking was a dangerous sport and I didn’t want any part in it.

  Sloane wasn’t back yet from work, so I texted her and she said she was stuck at the studio and might be pulling an all-nighter. That wasn’t unusual when she was working on something new, or preparing for a show, so I told her that I was sending her imaginary coffee and if she did get home I wouldn’t be there because I was also stuck at the office. And by stuck, I meant having sex and by office, I meant with Lucas.

  I’d fill her in tomorrow. I just didn’t want to get into why this was such a bad life decision now. Lucas was waiting.

  I spent most of the hour away from him trying to pick out the best set of underwear I owned. I still had the two pieces from Sloane, but he’d seen them already and I felt kind of weird wearing them again. So I chose a simple white lace bra and white panties. They were sweet and comfortable and I hoped he liked them.

  Since we were having pizza, I figured the night was going to be casual, so I went with a comfortable t-shirt that made my boobs look great, and black skinny jeans. I took my hair out and put up again in a loose ponytail. I did one last check in the mirror, made sure I had enough supplies in my bag for any emergencies (tampons, toothbrush, deodorant, birth control) and I was off.

  The entire cab ride to Lucas’ I alternated between giddy excitement and telling myself what a terrible idea this was, while picturing scenes in which he and I were caught in the act and there was a dramatic firing and my Dad just shook his head in shame at me.

  The cab stopped outside Lucas’ apartment and I paid the fare and got out, my legs a little wobbly.

  My phone rang, and I had kind of expected it.

  “Hello, Aurora Clarke. If you’ll proceed to the front door, just tell the doorman who you are and you can come right in.” I looked up at the building, but there was no way he could see me from his place unless he had night vision binoculars. Well, that was a creepy thought.

  “I’m standing in the lobby. I can see you,” he said, as if sensing my reluctance.

  I looked into the lobby and saw him through the glass doors. He waved one hand and I waved back, feeling a little foolish. The doorman let me in when I said my name and Lucas came forward to meet me. He was casual as well, in another band shirt and faded jeans.

  “You look great, as always,” he said, kissing my cheek.

  “Thanks.” He took my bag from me, and grabbed my hand as we walked toward the elevator.

  “This feels like a date,” I said.

  “Do you want it to be a date?” I looked at him as the elevator started to rise.

  “No. I mean, if this is a date, then that means we are dating, which means that we need to put a label on it, and that’s not what this is. You and me, we’re nights. Just nights. I have to draw the line.”

  “Okay, then this isn’t a date. But I have a few requests for this nights-only arrangement.”

  “Proceed.”

  “Call me Lucah.” I still wanted to know why he wanted me to, but I knew he wasn’t going to tell me why. This man was a deep well and I didn’t think he was going to let me see the bottom. Not that I should try. He wasn’t my boyfriend and I wasn’t falling in love with him.

  “Okay, I can do that. Anything else?”

  “I don’t think we should discuss work or the office.”

  “Yes, that’s another good one. I also think we should keep this arrangement to ourselves. I told Sloane that I had to work all night, so that’s where she thinks I am.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Do you want to put this in writing and then shred it?” I poked him with my elbow.

  “No, I think I can trust you.”

  “Ah, that will be your misfortune. I may suddenly but inevitably betray you.” Wait. Hold up.

  “Did you just quote Firefly?” I said.

  He kept a straight face as we walked toward his door and he unlocked it.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  His apartment was spotless as usual. He had a very minimalist decorating style, and it worked for him, but I wished there were more personal items around so I could get a better sense of him. No pictures, no little knickknacks from trips or any extraneous things. It was a bit odd, but I guess he was just that kind of guy.

  “So you said you loved pizza, but have you ever tried it with truffles?” That must be the amazing smell that had taken over his apartment. There were two pizza boxes on the counter and a few other containers with things in them.

  “I haven’t, but my roommate makes truffle mac and cheese and that’s to die for.” He took my bag and set it in the bedroom, then came back and put his arms around me.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that all day. Do you know how hard it is not to cross the space between us during the day and put my arms around you? And my hands on you?” As he spoke his hands traveled down my back and cupped my ass.

  I shook my head and pulled away.

  “You’re not supposed to talk about the place-that-must-not-be-spoken-of.”

  “How could I have broken that rule already? Are you going to punish me?” he said with a wicked smile.

  “Maybe. I might make you get on your knees for it.” I moved my hands down and squeezed his butt. It really was the bee’s knees of butts.

  “That wouldn’t be a punishment,” he said, and I could feel him getting hard. Hmm, pizza might have to wait.

  I moved my hands from the back of his jeans to the front and stroked him.

  “Now?” he said, his voice hoarse.

  “Now.” He shoved me up against the front door and attacked my mouth and oh
, help me, he had the tongue barbell in again.

  I’d thought after doing this a few times that some of the heat would cool, but it was like each time made us want it even more.

  He gathered my wrists and put them above my head and I put my legs around his waist. Kissing down my neck, he moved his hands under my ass to hold me up. We weren’t even going to get naked this time. I was definitely ready. I’d been thinking about this all day and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold out. I quickly moved my hands down to unzip my jeans and shove them with my underwear down low enough.

  “Inside me. Now, please.” He fumbled for just a moment to get the condom out of this back pocket, and I had to stand again, but I helped him roll it on this time and then he was picking me up and with a move that I would have to figure out later, he slid inside me.

  “I’ve. Wanted. This. All. Day,” he said with each thrust and I clung to him as he set a frenzied pace that we both craved.

  “Oh God, Lucah. Me too.” In the very back of my mind I knew we were making quite a racket and every time he thrust into me, my back banged against the door. I came hard and fast, and it was all I could do to keep my legs wrapped around him as he came, growling my name in my ear. He lowered me slowly and pulled out, and we held onto each other, trembling with aftershocks.

  We were both trying to catch our breath as he rested his head on my shoulder and kissed it.

  “Wow,” I said.

  “Yeah,” he said. We started both started laughing. And then there was a knock at the door.

  I ducked my face into his shoulder and bit it to stifle my laugh as Lucah looked over my head through the peephole.

  “Maybe she’ll go away,” he said low in my ear. The knock sounded again.

  “Mr. Blaine? Is everything okay? I thought I heard banging.” Oh, she definitely had.

  He looked down at me and tried to keep a straight face.

  “Yes, Mrs. Parks. Everything is fine. I was just doing some exercises. Sorry to have disturbed you. It won’t happen again.” I snorted and tried to keep it together so she didn’t hear me.

  “Oh, okay.” She didn’t sound convinced. We both waited and he looked out the peephole. A few seconds later he breathed deeply.

  “She’s gone. God, I swear anytime I breathe that woman is knocking on my door. She’s divorced and older and lonely and I think she wants me to be her pet.”

  I made a growling sound and moved my head from his shoulder.

  “Down girl,” he said and stepped away from me. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to clean up and then we’ll have to reheat the pizza.

  “Hurry back,” I said and he gave me a quick kiss on my forehead. When he was gone, I straightened my clothes and tried to get myself together. My hair was a mess from its contact with the door, so I took it out and flipped my head down to fix it.

  “That’s a nice view,” Lucah said as he came back in. My ass was in the air, so I wiggled it and he dashed forward and smacked me.

  “Hey now, I’m trying to fix the hair that you ruined.” I stood up and gave up on my hair, just letting it go everywhere.

  “It looks fine. I like seeing you like this. When we’re at work, it’s always pulled back and I can’t do this,” he said, running his fingers through it.

  “You did it again. That’s two strikes.” He pressed his forehead against mine.

  “I guess I owe you a lot of knee time.” Mm, I really liked the sound of that.

  “Pizza first,” I said.

  “Since this isn’t a date, I didn’t feel the need to get out candles, but I do have wine and the nice glasses are clean,” he said as he took the truffle mushroom pizza out of the oven. He also had a gorgeous chopped salad, but he wouldn’t tell me what dessert was.

  “I also have this,” he said, moving over to a cabinet, which revealed a classy stereo with speakers that I’d noticed around the apartment. He hit a button and a song I wasn’t familiar with surrounded me. It almost reminded me of the Beatles.

  “What is this?” I said as he poured me a glass of wine.

  “‘Brighter than Sunshine’ by Aqualung,” he said with a smile as we took the pizza over to the couch. He had a dining table, but that felt too much like a date. I’d rather be comfortable.

  “It’s nice. I like it,” I said after I’d listened to a little more of the song. I sipped the wine. It was light and crisp and went well with everything else.

  “So where’s your guitar?” I said as I munched on my salad.

  “In my music room.”

  I almost choked on a cucumber.

  “Music room?”

  “Yeah, it’s right over there,” he said, pointing with his fork at one of the doors I hadn’t been behind yet.

  “I’d really like to see it,” I said.

  “Well, I’d love to see your apartment. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” I rolled my eyes.

  “You’ve already seen mine. Several times.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen your body, but you’re more than just your body. A lot more. And I’d like to see it.”

  “That sounds awfully like something a guy who wants to date me would say.” I pointed my fork at him and he shook his head.

  “No. It’s not a boyfriend thing that I want to get to know you. That could just be me wanting to get to know you. Not so I can date you, just so I can know you.”

  He was fumbling and it sounded like bullshit to me, but I was going to let it go.

  The song changed and I recognized Bobby Darin’s, ‘Beyond the Sea’. Very classy.

  We started the pizza and it was amazing. I would have to tell Sloane about this so she could make it.

  Or maybe not. Then I’d have to tell her about the nights-only arrangement and we’d already agreed to keep this on the down low. God, this was complicated. But when he reached out and wiped some cheese off my chin, then winked and licked it off his thumb while my stomach did little flips, I knew that maybe it would be worth it.

  Once we were stuffed, we sat on the couch with my head on his shoulder and sipped wine. The music kept playing and it was . . . eclectic. I’d heard Queen, Adele, Simple Minds, The Black Keys, Cole Porter and Jamie N Commons and a bunch of others that I didn’t know well enough to name.

  “What’s for dessert?” I asked.

  “You.” I pinched his non-pierced nipple with my fingernails.

  “Bad girl. We’re having s’mores.”

  “Really?” I hadn’t had one of those in a very long time.

  “I mean, unless you don’t like s’mores in which case, there’s the door.” He pointed and his face was serious.

  “You mean to tell me that if I didn’t like s’mores, you’d kick me out?” I raised my eyebrow.

  “I don’t want anyone in my house who doesn’t like s’mores.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing for you that I do.”

  “Thank God.” He motioned for me to let him up and went back to the kitchen as the song changed again to Muse’s ‘Starlight’.

  “Do you need any help?” I hadn’t seen a fire or anything, so I was wondering how this s’more thing was going to happen.

  “No, I’ve got this, just relax. You’re only the boss during the day.”

  I held up three fingers. “Three strikes.”

  “More knee time. Whatever shall I do?” I watched him from the couch as he brought out something from under his cupboards and brought it over to the coffee table. It was a hybrid of a fondue set, but without the pot on top, so it was basically like a little tiny fire. He lit it and then brought over plates of chocolate, graham crackers and marshmallows.

  He handed me a metal skewer with a little handle and took one for himself.

  “Ready?”

  “Um, yeah, I’ve made these before, but never inside. It’s nice that I don’t’ have to worry about mosquitos. Or smoke in my eyes.”

  “Did you go camping a lot?” he said as we rotated our marshmallows to evenly brown them.

  “My pare
nts have a summer place in Maine, so we used to go a lot. We’d be at the house and then Dad would just start packing a bag and tell us we were going camping. I mean, it was real camping. Sleeping on the ground, outhouse, bathing in the river, the works. It was the only time I ever saw my dad wear flannel, or my mom without her lipstick. It was great.” I waited for him to tell me something about his childhood but he seemed intent on his marshmallow.

  “Did you go camping as a kid?” I finally asked.

  “Not very much.” Okay, childhood questions were out. My marshmallow was done so I grabbed my graham cracker and chocolate and slid the marshmallow off and in between the crackers. Apparently, making a s’more was like riding a bike. Or having sex. It all came back to you.

  I was eating my first s’more when Lucah’s first marshmallow got too close to the flame and went up. He tried to blow on it, but that only made it worse.

  “Aw, you lose. Want some of mine?” I held my s’more out to him and he took a bite before he pulled the burned part from the marshmallow and ate it anyway.

  We both went for our second marshmallows and I saw that Lucah had marshmallow smeared in the corner of his mouth.

  “Hold still.”

  “What?” He went to wipe his face.

  “No, I just told you not to move.” I leaned forward and licked the marshmallow. I tried to pull back, but he grabbed my chin and kissed me. He tasted of chocolate and graham crackers and sweet melted marshmallow and underlying it all was the taste of him that I never thought I was going to get enough of.

  “I like a little you with my dessert,” he said, pushing my hair back.

  “Same here.”

  We ate a few more s’mores and kissed a little more, and he slowly removed my clothes and I removed his and then he carried me to the bedroom and fucked me so slow and so sweet that I held onto him afterwards and didn’t want to let him go.

  He looked down into my eyes and smiled and then rolled so we were both on our sides and pulled out.

  “Any second thoughts?” he said.

  “A few. But I’m ignoring them.”

  He ran his hand over my shoulder.

  “I could quit.”