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A second of silence…I just kept moving the vibrator close to her sex, teasing her outer lips. “What am I doing?”
“You’re sitting in a chair with only a dress shirt on. Your trousers are pooled at your ankles, and I’m sitting on your lap with my back to you, in a skirt and a blouse. You’re commanding me to unbutton my blouse, so my breasts are exposed. You yank my skirt up, showing off my pussy because I only have a garter belt and stockings on. You force my legs open wide, so my cunt is open to…”
She halted; I stilled the vibrator right next to her clit as I was sure I’d absolutely caught the part of this fucking hot as hell fantasy she wasn’t saying. “Is someone watching me touch you?”
“Ummm…yes, yes.” She cast her answer out, unsure of my reaction, but I’ve played this little game with women before, and the quickest way to shut someone down, ruining the whole experience, is to sound judgy.
“Go on. I’m touching you, pinching your nipples, spreading you open, probably playing with your clit, so they can see what a fucking minx you are, how fucking horny you get. I’m showing off, aren’t I? Look, how sopping wet my girl’s cunt gets.” I put the tip of the vibrator right on her pulsing hard nub, and her ass shifted—she was so primed, but damn, I craved more of this story, so I kept teasing her clit with just a second of vibration, then pulled away as I cajoled the story out of her.
“Yes, yes,” she hissed, clearly caught up in her own scenario.
I swatted her open pussy lightly, her whole body flexing in response as a small yelp seeped from her mouth. “I probably swatted that bad little cunt right in front of them, didn’t I?” She moaned, and I swatted her again. “What next? Do they get to watch me fuck you?”
“Yes, yes,” she said, sucking in a breath. “I, I, pull up my skirt all the way and sit on your cock, moving up and down.” I scooted my legs between hers, so I was sitting, then grabbed her around the waist. “Push up. I want you doing just that,” I said to her back, helping her get in position, holding my shaft as she lowered herself onto my dick. So fucking eager, and with a low sensual voice, straining all judgment, I asked, “Who is it?” Praying like hell it wasn’t Matt because that would give me pause. I knew he was gay but hell, that didn’t stop her from thinking about him, loving him, maybe even yearning for him.
“Well,” she said sheepishly. She lowered her pussy onto my cock.
“Damn, that’s so good. So, who’s sitting there watching us, baby?” I goaded gruffly as she slid down on me, one hand on her hip, the other finding her clit. With that wonder vibrator, I wanted her to explode like I was about to.
“Yes, yes, see…see…I’d do anything for him,” she whimpered, “anything, Dwayne, I’m good for him.” She sucked in a breath, halting her pelvis.
Well damn, I wasn’t expecting that. My hand stiffened on her hip, but I growled, “Yes, yes, he’s dying watching you fuck me. Get it, girl, get it, give him a show.” Intently, I made tiny circles over her clit as she rocked her hips on my shaft, her legs giving up, but with that ass arched and flexing back and forth urgently.
“J-a-k-e, yes, yes,” she keened, and I dropped the vibrator, pumping my pelvis upward, fucking her harder as her walls formed a vise around me, smothering my cock in her warm sweetness. I couldn’t hold on any longer. I let myself go with a wail, deep into her core. She whimpered among heavy breaths before collapsing forward on my legs. I rubbed her back gently…she’d been open. I knew not to mention anything about Dwayne, but I damn sure was scratching my brain, zingers like, does she fantasize about him joining or just watching? I gulped in a breath.
Shimmying from under her, I said, “Sweets, let me get a washcloth, then I’ll feed you.”
“Duck your head,” I whispered as we descended the steps into Soule Domain, a restaurant on the North Shore that served fabulous high-end food, featuring an extensive wine list. It was a small log cabin with a roaring fire, boasting an intimate atmosphere that would take you back in time. I ordered their escargot, lobster wontons, and rack of lamb. She ordered a salad, dressing on the side, and fresh fish with no oil or starch. I could tell she was a little guarded about giving her detailed restrictive order; her eyes cast to me as she apologized to the waiter, but I didn’t care. This day had been off the charts, starting with the mind-blowing sex. Then she’d let me feed her fruit in bed, giggling when I’d put a piece of cut-up watermelon in her belly button then sucked it off. We’d taken a leisurely nap to restore ourselves before going on a long hike. When we’d come upon a stunning view and stopped to rest, Rakell had commented that she couldn’t believe how winded she was. “The altitude surprises everyone,” I’d reminded her.
Today had been free of second-guessing each other, stiff moments where misunderstandings could settle in, stalling our conversations. It was quite literally a perfect day. That feeling escorted us through dinner, even when I went out on a limb and asked a question about her dad. I didn’t have much time with her, and I’d remembered something my mom had said when I’d shared with my parents about her terrible tragedy. I was trying to figure out how to get her to feel safe with me, so that she’d open up with me more, share more about her childhood, including her father. My mom said, “One of the hardest things about mourning someone you love is that the people around you never ask about that person. Sure, in the beginning they tell you how sorry they are, ask you how you’re doing but the person you lost is gone from normal conversation because people don’t ask things like, ‘What’s your favorite memory?’ ‘What did he do that made you laugh?’ ‘What do you cherish most?’ Just letting her talk about her dad and even her mom, the positive memories, that’s a gift.” It struck me; my mom had said that, my dad nodding in agreement, that we never talked about my brother. I’d never asked either. I knew the story about his death, or at least a brief version of it, but I’d never asked about his life. He had died before I was born, so I didn’t have any memories of my own, but I knew my parents did, and Melissa and Jenae, too. I began to wonder more about how that had impacted Melissa.
While Rakell and I were sipping our wine, I scrolled through the bits she had shared about her father for something basic, non-emotional I could ask. “What was in that dip you and your dad used to eat watching the Iowa Tornado games?” I tossed it out casually, even though I’d committed the ingredients to memory.
She scratched her nose, made a disgusted silly face, and said, “I’ll tell you, but I’m never eating it. It probably has a hundred calories per bite.”
I heard the lightness in her voice, even cracking with a hushed laugh a couple of times, as she detailed the ingredients, which eased into a couple of stories about watching the games together. Then I probed a little further about how she’d learned to ride horses. She shared that there were pictures of her on horses with her dad since before she could remember, which led to her sharing that the familiar ringtone song, I’d heard on her phone, “The Road Less Travelled,” was by one of her dad’s favorite Australian singers, Graeme Connors. Her cheeks pinked as a smile broke on her face when she said, “That will always be my ringtone. It reminds me of how my dad lived,” but in an instant that fond memory must have drudged some fresh grief up with it, because I watched as her face fell and she added, “And died…lived and died.” I heard a small crack in her voice, so I casually diverted the conversation, thinking how my parents would be proud that I’d stopped myself from tunneling too deep.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jake: I’m so jealous Melissa gets you all day. Are you at the Renaissance yet?…Send
Rakell: Yes, by the pool. Melissa got us day passes, so we are going to lay out, have drinks, and lunch. She insisted. Your dad is taking the kids to the San Antonio Zoo. Annette had to teach today…Send
Jake: Actually, I’m so glad you're doing this. Melissa needs it! I heard ya’ll did some shopping at Stella Dallas…Send
Rakell: Yes, I loved it. Super fun staff and the clothes are absolutely adorable…Send
Jake: I know where to shop for you ??. Melissa said you volunteered to model for a couple of boutiques she’s trying to get help launching on SM. Thank you!...Send
Rakell: Yes, I want to do that. Melissa works so hard and really cares about the local Austin businesses. Lots of these places don’t have big advertising budgets, so I get to help out a bit where I can. You should get back to practice…Send
Jake: Morning break. Our defense is out there now. All I can think about is you on all fours…Send
Rakell: We’ll discuss that tonight bad boy!…Send
Jake: Oooh…I like the sound of that. I know it’s only been a week, but is there any news about the chemistry read? I’m up for practicing again ??…Send
Looking at his text, she wondered if he’d react differently if he read the script, start to finish.
