by A. C. Arthur
“I never believed all that stuff they said about you guys. I mean, sure I thought you were mean, inconsiderate jerks toward me. But I never thought you were dangerous.”
She’d never know how much those words meant to him. That clenching in his chest he’d felt upon seeing her yesterday had melted away to form a warmth that circled his heart. The sensation both confused him and encouraged his next words.
“I want you to know that everything that happens tonight is an intentional act of intimacy.”
Ethan moved his arm slightly, until his fingers found hers. She watched their hands became intertwined as if it were some type of anomaly and he waited until she once again met his gaze. The illumination of the candles gave her amber eyes a magical look, filled with specks of gold and yellow. Her skin looked like honey and was soft as silk.
“What’s going to happen?” she asked in a quiet voice that went along perfectly with the candlelight.
“We’re going to find some pleasure in this storm.” Ethan wasn’t sure if he was referring to the storm raging outside, or the one that had been steadily building within him since the moment he set eyes on Portia again.
“I think I know how we can do that,” she said.
Her response surprised and excited him and he was about to ask how, but Portia was quick to show him. She moved so that in seconds she was straddling his legs. Now, Ethan was looking up at her.
“Let’s take this off first,” she told him as her hands went for the hem of his shirt.
He assisted her by lifting his arms and allowing her to pull the shirt up and over his head. Her palms fell to his bare chest and Ethan inhaled deeply at the warmth continuing to spread throughout his body at her touch. She stared down at her fingers as they moved over his pecs, the tight bead of his nipples and down to his abs. This was the moment where Ethan felt his hours of weightlifting and running paid off because there was pure enjoyment in her gaze as she looked up at him again. Passion brewing in the depths of her eyes, along with something else. Something Ethan wasn’t sure Portia had ever felt before, power.
“Naked.” She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and released it. “We should both get naked.”
“Ok.” There was no other reply. He didn’t know a man who’d ever turn down that suggestion when made by such a gorgeous woman.
They both stood, removed their clothes and then returned to the sleeping bag. Ethan had pulled his wallet from his back pocket and retrieved the three condom packets he kept there. He dropped them on the floor beside the sleeping bag before sitting down again.
“Lay back,” Portia instructed him.
He’d wanted to take his time looking at her body. He wanted to see every inch of her, front and back, from her toes to the nape of her neck. He wanted his hands on her, his mouth and his tongue…but she had other plans.
Ethan lay back against the pillows they’d propped against the wall and Portia pushed his legs open. He ignored the fleeting questions that popped into his mind as this wasn’t a position he’d been in often. But she needed this. From the nervous sound of her voice the other night when she’d admitted to him that she was a faker, he knew she needed to feel like she was so much more. And he would gladly relinquish all control to her if it would take away that wary look she sometimes had in her eyes.
She was on her knees between his spread legs now, the dark circle of her nipples against her light skin an alluring contrast. Her breasts were high and full and his palms itched to touch them, but she pushed her hair behind her and bent forward before he could. Her small hand cupped his balls and Ethan sucked in a quick breath. She handled them as if they were precious jewels, holding them gently before moving her fingers over them as if she were actually cherishing what she felt. Tingles of pleasure rippled through him instantly and Ethan let his head loll back to rest against the pillows. He kept his eyes partially open, even though that was hard. He wanted to close them and completely immerse himself in the pleasure she was evoking. But at the same time, he needed to see her, to watch as he hoped she would find her own pleasure in everything she was doing to him.
When she wrapped her other hand around his hard length, Ethan released a low groan. She paused and glanced up at the sound and he watched as a combination of shock and encouragement flashed across her face. He lifted his legs so that his feet were now flat on the sleeping bag. She licked her lips and dipped her head lower. When Ethan thought she would have taken his dick into her mouth the way she had that dildo in the hotel, he was pleasantly surprised.
Portia’s hot little mouth went straight to the sack she held in her hand. Her tongue lavishing the taut balls. He swallowed hard and gave in, letting his eyes close and the complete pleasure of her touch engulf him. Desire ripped through him in lightning fast shards that pricked every part of him. And when her tongue replaced the hand holding his balls, to rest beneath his heavy sac, Ethan moaned loud and long.
For endless seconds she kept her tongue there, very still as her other hand began to work his dick, stroking from the base up to the beads of pre-cum now covering the tip. His mind warred with his body. Was this better than a traditional blow job? Should he stop her before he exploded into her hand? Would it be better if he could explode into the warmth of her mouth?
Ethan would never know the answer to any of those questions as within the next few seconds, Portia grabbed one of the condom packets and ripped it open. She sheathed him quickly before lowering his legs and climbing on top of him. He reached up to grab her hips, but it was unnecessary. The look on her face said she knew exactly what she was doing and how she wanted this to go.
“It’s all yours, baby,” he murmured. “Take what you want.”
With her legs now spread over him, Portia held his dick and positioned herself over the turgid head. She lowered herself onto him slowly at first, but then slammed down to take him all in at once. They both groaned with the instant friction and sheer pleasure that act caused.
She sat still for a moment and he watched with total enjoyment as she acclimated herself to him at this depth. Desperate to begin pumping inside her, his thighs trembled and he gritted his teeth with the effort of restraint. His hands moved from her hips to cup her breasts, kneading them gently, rubbing his thumbs over her thick tight nipples. She let her head fall to the side, her back arching into him. She looked glorious. All those lustrous curls falling around her like a halo, her skin so smooth and highlighted in the candlelight. He wished he could snap a picture and keep it in his personal collection. This was pleasure right here, in the depths of her hooded eyes and parted lips, the obvious giving of her body as she simultaneously took his. Yes, this was a sight to behold and one that Ethan knew he wanted to see again and again.
Portia began to ride.
This was her first time in this position, but she knew how it was done. She lifted her head, leaned forward and planted her palms on Ethan’s chest before moving her hips. The circular fashion was first. It made her feel his length embedded deeper inside. Then she tried up and down, so that a portion of him was leaving and returning to her in measured intervals. That pushed her need up to a roaring hunger. And when he grasped her hips, coordinating his pumps with hers, she knew this was how it would end.
The frenzied pumping, the increasing pleasure. The waves of desire crashing over her until she thought she would drown from it. Her breasts jiggled, her teeth bit down into her lower lip and she moaned. Damn, she was moaning as if there had never been anything this good, ever. And that was the truth. She’d never imagined sex like this. Not for her personally. Sure, she’d taught it and she’d believed that others could achieve this measure of bliss, but not her. It just wasn’t meant for her. For this level of enjoyment there had to be something beneath the physical. Another connection that set the stage for the arousal to become so intense, so ultimately rewarding in the end. She wasn’t capable of feeling like that about anyone, not ever again.
And yet, here she was.
Her legs
trembled as her blunt-tipped nails dug into the skin of Ethan’s chest. He moved abruptly and the next thing she knew, she was on her back, her ankles on Ethan’s shoulders. He was over her now, driving into her deeper. She caught his hot gaze and couldn’t look away.
“Unimaginable pleasure,” he said through gritted teeth.
Portia recognized the words. She’d written them towards the end of her book. It came after the steps of intimacy and blossomed into a fulfilling sexual relationship. She shook her head, ready to deny that’s what was happening, because that was impossible in this situation. But Ethan continued to move and while she could’ve sworn she was already at the pentacle of pleasure, he pushed her further. Pulling out and pressing into her from different angles now. Right, then left. Right, then left. He touched something inside of her, literally. His hard length scraped over the spot more than once and each time her heart beat faster, her gaze grew blurrier and then she fell. She was weightless, her mouth was open but there was no sound. She fell and fell and then she was flying, soaring.
Ethan groaned over her. He kissed both her ankles as a curse slipped from his lips. His hands tightened on her thighs as he pumped faster and harder, and then slower, in stiff motions that coincided with each groan.
“Unimaginable,” he muttered.
“Not possible,” she whispered.
He stopped moving inside of her. Portia’s fingers gripped the sleeping bag, but then released it as her heart continued to hammer. He let her legs slide down slowly and pulled out of her after long moments. She immediately rolled to her side, feeling the warmth that followed when he pulled a blanket over her. There was nothing left to do but cuddle into the warmth and wonder what would happen next. This was not only unimaginable as Ethan had said, it was unpredictable and as her body came down from the inexplicable high of sexual pleasure, her mind roared with the unknown.
A few moments later, Ethan’s arms were going around her waist. His body was pressing close to hers. There was more warmth and something else Portia never thought she’d experience with a man, comfort. Despite her reservations, she relaxed into the feeling, letting it and the sound of the wind and rain outside lull her to sleep.
Tonight, she’d had pleasure. She’d had what she’d written about and taught to so many others. She would let that be for now. And in the morning, she would pack her bags and walk away. Again.
12
A week later, Portia was still in Providence. As a result of the hurricane, most of the roads in and out of town had been flooded. The closed roads meant that Portia couldn’t make it to the airport, which was just as well because flights had been cancelled the day after the storm until late in the evening. The call with her agent had been as pleasant as possible, all things considered. Her agent had been the one to break the news to the publisher. It helped that leftover rain from the storm moving north hit New York on Tuesday morning, so her appearance there would’ve been cancelled even if she’d managed to get there. Sadly, a few more appearances had also needed to be cancelled, but she was trying not to think of how pissed her publisher might be at this point.
There were parts of the town that also flooded, like Camy’s backyard and basement. As for Sunnydale, the storm had broken a couple of the back windows. The glass shattering had awakened Portia and Ethan, and they’d gone downstairs to attempt a temporary patch job until the storm passed. But in the meantime, rain and wind had pelted through the plastic they’d managed to pin up to the windows and the walls and floors were damaged. Rod and his family business were swamped with repair estimates, so he hadn’t been able to get to Sunnydale until Wednesday morning. Of course, he had a list of new things he needed to fix on the house now before it could be put on the market.
That meant Portia had to stay here. She’d made a commitment to Sunny, and her godmother had told her she was glad Portia was there overseeing the project. So, she couldn’t leave until it was complete, not even to return to her book tour. Sunny meant the world to her and she wasn’t about to let her down.
It surprised her to learn how easy that decision was for her to swallow, but as she recalled last night’s impromptu gathering with Camy and her friend Rylan, she realized she could get used to being back in Providence.
Ethan was scheduled to work the late shift and wasn’t set to get off until late so Camy and Rylan had stopped by Sunnydale with some of Jeret’s famous hot wings, nachos and bottles of wine all pre-ordered from the bar.
“How many bedrooms are in this place?” Rylan Kent who Portia recalled seeing Camy with a lot when they were younger, asked. “Cause I’m tellin’ y’all right now I’m gettin’ tore up tonight! I’ve been working like crazy and my mother’s been in a mood, so I need this release.”
“Um, there’re three bedrooms.” Portia answered but she hadn’t been expecting overnight guests and her mind wandered to needing to put fresh sheets on the beds. She’d stripped all but the one in her old room as part of the packing process.
“No worries,” Camy chimed in. “We can all sleep right here. This couch seems comfy enough.”
Camy and Rylan were sitting on the couch while Portia had taken a seat in one of the leather recliners across the room.
“And we can talk about my date with Steve last week.” Camy leaned forward and took one of the wings from a plastic container. She grabbed a napkin and sat back.
“Oh yeah, you said you were gonna tell me about that,” Rylan said. She grabbed a paper plate and filled it with nachos and a few dollops of the melted cheese from another plastic container.
Portia wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do at this point. She figured this was what they called a girls’ night, but she’d never experienced one before. Because her stomach growled, she got up from the recliner and fixed a plate of two wings—the flats ‘cause they were the best—and some nachos and cheese. Her glass of Moscato was already sitting on the table near the recliner so she sat back down after grabbing a napkin.
Camy had started her story and Portia settled back in the recliner to listen, eat and marvel over the concept of women sharing their private thoughts, laughing together and uplifting each other when necessary. That part had come when she’d mentioned the sad state of her personal life.
“I’ve been really busy these last few years so no, I haven’t had time for friendships or romantic entanglements.” That was partly a lie, but mostly true. If there’d been someone she wanted to be romantic with she would’ve made the time, but there hadn’t.
“Your business is doing great,” Rylan said, her words had begun to slur a little by this time, as she was totally serious about getting tore up. “And it’s so empowering. I mean, you know women are usually shamed for being proud and open about their sexuality.”
That didn’t actually ring true for Portia because all this time she’d been focused on other people’s sexuality, not so much her own. Until Ethan. Every moment she was with him she couldn’t help but be super aware of her body and how it reacted to him. The last few days that physical reaction had shifted to something a little more powerful than she’d anticipated, but she’d chalked that up to all the fantastical dreams she’d had about him while growing up. She knew that now was different, that what they were doing was strictly about sex.
“Since you’re so open about sex, tell us how good Ethan is in bed,” Camy had said when Portia had been quiet for too long. “And don’t leave anything out. Ry and I’ve been watching him and all Del’s friends for that matter for years, and we’ve always wondered how they each were in bed.”
“Yeah, we only wondered because Del and Lance would kill you if they even thought one of their buddies put a hand on you.” Rylan chuckled.
Portia blushed. This was actually the real thing; it was a true girls’ night and she was happy to be a part of it. Of course, that didn’t mean she was going to tell them everything about her and Ethan, but she had shared a bit and it’d felt good. She’d also tried the hot wings and almost choked on the spicy hot sauce.
Still, being with Camy and Rylan had felt particularly good and that had only been the beginning of their night.
So good that sitting in The Bullpen area of the bar today, she admitted that Providence was really starting to grow on her. With her laptop open on top of a small round table she sat in a cushioned chair facing the main dining room on the first floor. A half empty glass of Sprite and the plate which had held the tuna sandwich she’d eaten for lunch pushed to one side. She’d been here for the last hour working on the first chapters of her newest book and enjoying the scenery.
Ethan was on the early shift today. He was at the bar, taking orders, talking to customers and otherwise looking as sexy as ever. She lost track of how many times her gaze had drifted over to him and her mind had circled back to the time they’d been spending together. Since the storm, Ethan had been sleeping at Sunnydale with her. Even though Portia could happily attest to the fact that they did a lot less sleeping than one would imagine. The thought made her blush as her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
“Thinking of your next sex video?”
She jumped at the words, her surprised gaze immediately finding the slim woman who stood on the other side of the table glaring down at her. Portia’s smile faltered as she stared into familiar eyes. And they were just as cold and dark as they had been years ago when Melissa Bannon sat two seats in front of Portia in chemistry class.
“Hello, Melissa,” Portia replied curtly. She quickly minimized the screen on her laptop and sat back in her chair, hands falling to her lap.
One of her teenage nemeses looked almost exactly the same. Melissa’s hair was still fire engine red, chilling green eyes still looking with judgement onto anyone she deemed unworthy. Portia had been tops on Melissa’s list for reasons unknown. Melissa’s body had matured into a svelte combo of generous boobs, yet her ass had received the same boost. Still, she looked fresh off the pages of a magazine in the fitted cream-colored dress and nude pumps she wore. A large leather boxed-shaped purse hung from the bent arm at her side.