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I push in farther than she’d been able to reach on her own, and she gasps. Another stroke, and she’s crying out, “Yessss.” I feel the tip of my cock bend just a bit against her cervix, and the sparks of lightning, turn into a rush of fire. Two more strokes and she sobs my name. I feel her clench around me, and the flutters tell me she’s already about to come.
I lean down to her ear. “Don’t come yet,” I whisper. “Wait for me.” Her whimper drives straight into my cock and I feel myself swell even more. I push against her, stroke after stroke after stoke. I feel my sack draw up and that tingle starts at the base of my spine.
Fuck, I pride myself on lasting longer than this. But I know she’s ready, too. I let it happen. “Come, Lorelai.” I grind out. “Come now.” I pump faster into her as spurt after spurt empties into the condom. Her cries are the perfect harmony to the orchestral crescendo in my head.
I keep my weight on my knees and arms even though they’re shaking and rest my forehead on her back until my breathing steadies. When I finally open my eyes, I can just barely make out the flames tattooed down her spine. In between her shoulder blades is a woman with flowing fiery locks and delicately curled ram’s horns. I press a kiss to the face that looks surprisingly like Lorelai’s and get a slight shudder in response.
I slip out and move off the bed to dispose of the condom, but I’m quick to slide back under the covers and pull Lorelai closer. I know I fought the attraction, but since I’ve already jumped into the fire, I’m going to be all-in right now and kick myself later. She turns, snuggling into my side with her head on my shoulder. I miss this. The afterglow. The quiet communing while sweat dries on sensitive skin. I let my eyes close again and sleep pulls me back under.
I wake to sweet guitar riffs and country crooning.
I fumble for my phone on the side table while trying to keep Lorelai pulled to me with my other arm. But she sits up, rubbing her face as I answer the call.
“Mr. Carlo, it’s Sharon at the office again. Just letting you know the plows are out clearing streets, but they may not reach you until tomorrow. I know you were planning on checking out this morning, but there's no rush. I'll be in the shop all day today and tomorrow."
"Thank you, Sharon. I appreciate the extra time." I disconnect and look over at Lorelai, catching her mid-stretch. I barely have time to admire her curves before she pulls the covers up to her chin looking like an urchin.
My brain has a difficult time keeping up. She looks like a child one minute and a siren the next. Even though she isn’t quite as young as she looks, I still have no business being in this bed with her.
Guilt grabs me by the throat, and I slide off the bed with the mumbled excuse of checking breakfast supplies.
Chapter 13
~~ Lorelai ~~
Rusty had taken over James’s warm spot in the bed, and I’d slept for another hour or two with a warm paw and heavy head lying on my arm. He is still there when I wake, looking at me with eyes that seem to want to share his secrets. I rub his ears and press a kiss to his nose. I wish I could read his mind, see everything that has happened to him in his short life.
James hasn’t looked me in the face even once since earlier this morning.
He laid a breakfast plate on the table for me when I got up, pulled on his coat, and went out the front door. When I got out of the shower, he got in. When he got out, he started packing, mumbling to me that we’d head out as soon as the roads are cleared.
I fight back the insecurities that tell me James didn’t enjoy what we shared, that he must not like me, that there must be something else he wanted that I didn’t deliver. I force myself to go back over the whole night. I end up getting myself turned on and wanting more, but I make myself acknowledge I have zero actual doubt he fully participated and very much enjoyed our intimacy.
He doesn’t seem the type to be intentionally rude. Lord knows I’ve experienced enough of that! Something else is bothering him. He said he wasn’t married, but maybe he has a girlfriend. I didn’t ask that specific question.
When he’s sufficiently packed, James settles into the recliner with his book. I notice the bookmark is very close to the end.
So I wait.
While I wait, I re-play my therapist’s insistence that it is okay to ask questions. I remind myself I no longer need to avoid conflict at any cost. I can ask for clarification or state my own feelings. I realize my childhood formed massive trauma responses, but I also know I can choose a different reaction if I let myself.
I also know I don’t want to end this on a bad note. Of all the people who have come and gone in my life, this man has been the kindest, most peaceful person, and I’d like to remember him that way. Maybe it’s better to leave it alone.
Or maybe there’s a middle ground, and we just have to find it.
I power on my tablet and search for the nearest bus station. It’s close enough to the town, I think James will be willing to drop me off there. Once I’m there, I can “spin the wheel” and let fate choose a place to go, just like the last few times before my fateful ride with Scott. Or Seth. I roll my eyes at myself again for not remembering his name.
Rusty plops beside me on the floor, and I let my hand drop to his fur. He gives my fingers a light lick. He has such a solid presence. I wonder what it would be like to have a dog. For my very own. I know I can find a home now, settle in, have belongings I treasure and keep safe, have a pet. And I will. I just need to find the right place.
Chapter 14
~~ James ~~
I re-read the final chapter again. I should be able to pay more attention to the wrap up of the who-done-it, but I’ve been distracted by Lorelai’s every move. I had caught her sucked in breath as I shrugged on my coat and moved past her out the front door.
I had thrown myself into digging out the drive behind my truck, but that slight pucker between her eyebrows replayed in my head. For someone who was so intentionally expressionless, she did show emotion if you knew where to watch.
When I headed into the shower as she was shaking out her hair with one hand and holding her comb in the other, she’d had an actual frown. When I’d opened the book, she’d given me a look. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but I could tell she was thinking something.
