Page 41 of Cupid Calamity

“Fuck naked. Fuck me now.” I claw her dress off, and it falls to the ground. I hook my fingers into her thong. She stares at me as I rip it from her body. She gasps and reaches for the pharmacy bag. She pulls out a tiny fuzzy bear and hurls it into the other room, then finds the box of condoms. I get down on one knee and place a kiss on the most perfect pussy I’ve ever had the privilege to pucker. Alliteration is a DJ’s curse.

I hold her open and lick her. Her hands pull at my hair. I can’t take it.

“Run. Go. Scurry to the bed or I’m fucking you against this door.”

She squeals and takes off, and the sight of her perfect ass is seared into my brain. I arrive at the door as she turns around. I drop my boxers and fist my cock. I fuck into my hand a couple of times, and her hands tear her bra away.

“They’re everything I dreamed of in prison.”

She smiles but doesn’t laugh. Her hand skitters across my chest and below. I shudder. I say, “And that’s it. I know we’re hungry but I need you now.” And for the third time tonight I pick her up, but this time I throw her on the bed and pull her legs wide. “Fucking gorgeous.” She licks her lips and hands me a condom. She watches as if there will be a test later as I roll it on.

I lie on top of her and kiss her roughly. Her hands reach down and guide me home. As I begin to push into her, she arches her back and moans.

Her voice is breathy and her eyes are way too serious. “Patrick.”

I match her tone and the moment. “Sabrina.” I never want to stop being inside this woman. We lie, basking in the revelation of how perfectly we fit.

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SABRINA

I’m so tired, and I know he is as well, but we’re not sleeping. We’re face to face on the pillows. I woke after a forty-five-minute nap to stare at him. Finally, I had to touch his face. The room is gorgeous and decadent, but it’s his face I wanted to see, not the room. I’m days away from being thirty, and it’s abundantly clear to me, I’ve never been in love. I thought I had. And I know rationally this can’t be it. This is really fucking good lust and infatuation. But it feels unfinished. I can’t push that feeling down far enough. You’re not done. The two of you aren’t done. It’s invasive like an earworm of “What’s New Pussy Cat.”

I don’t like people; they disappoint you, but this man actually caught fire to be with me. I have an insistent need to know all of him, so when I file him away later today, I’ll be able to pull out all the pieces and play with them in the future. I know this is just a moment and I have to go back to my life of Bree in a couple of hours. But from the airport confab to here, it’s all been like a wacky and sometimes scary movie. I didn’t dislike any of these people. Even poor Ricky Schlong had his moments. It’s been a break from my regularly scheduled program. I’m not good at dating, but I am good at him.

So, I ask. I don’t overthink. I don’t temper who I am to trick him into liking me. He already does. I wish I lived here. Then maybe, just maybe, this night wouldn’t be an expiration date.

I put my hand on his cheek, and he turns his head slightly and kisses my palm. I slide it down his arm and settle on his hip.

“What happened?” I ask.

He asks in his smooth as silk voice—it’s deep and rich and plays any room he’s in like a violin—“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure how you let me in, but you have. Why do you push everyone away?”

He crooks an eyebrow. “How do I do that?”

“That eyebrow is part of it. Fess up.”

I grin, and he leans forward and kisses me, sweet and quick. My body feels like it just sipped hot chocolate on a snowy day. He says, “I’m very charming and most people like me, so I’m confused here, beautiful Sabrina.”

“That. That’s the thing you do to other people but not to me.” I pull the sheet up, but he slips it back down. His hands caress my nipples, then tweak them. I gasp and moan. Then I jab his chest.

He says, “That what? Worship perfect tits?” His hand is caressing my hip and thigh.

“Like bullets bouncing off Superman’s “S”—you deflect. You’re charming and sexy, but you’re also interesting, deep, and emotional. I saw you give our vending leftovers to that homeless man in the police station lobby. I saw you. I see you.”

“Why can’t you just be great sex? Why can’t you be simple?” He removes his hand, and I know what that means.

“Not the first time someone’s said that.” I sigh and cover up, knowing once again, I fucked it all up. “You’re going to leave now, right?”

He grasps my hair between his fingers, moves his hand to the back of my neck and pulls me closer to his face. His eyes are bright with possibility and sincerity. They’re vulnerable, like a child, and I want to wrap him up and protect him from his past. I want to pull on my own Superman spandex and keep him safe. But no one lets me do that.

“Quite the opposite.” My eyes widen in surprise, and he grins. “I’m not done with you.”