My Remedy (Open Door Love Story Book 3) (11 page)

Duncan stands there, completely naked, in all of his tan and rippled glory, with his hands on his hips, smirking. “I’d love to help. I mean, it’s not every day a beautiful woman asks me to take her bra off, but you have to get over this idea that your being trapped with your arms over your head, naked, is unattractive. And I think the best way to overcome this is for me to stand here and watch you work it out yourself.”

“Pull this bra off of me, or you’re not getting any,” I say. I’m such a liar.

“Yup. I’m gonna call your bluff.” He reaches down and starts stroking himself. “Because now you’re naked, with your arms trapped above your head, and you’re a little bit pissed off. This might just be enough for me.”

“Fine!” I bend over.

“Uh-huh.”

“You suck.” I inch the fingers on my right hand down my back until I can get a hold of the bra and then, like Harry Houdini before me, I practically touch my shoulders together in front and I pull with all of my might, raking the stupid thing over my head. Freed, I throw it in Duncan’s face and step into the shower.

Duncan follows me in and shuts the glass door. I stand underneath the water, facing him, not letting him get in the stream, furiously lathering my hair.

He takes my hands away from my head and starts gently washing my hair. “You’re beautiful when you have shampoo in your hair, you’re beautiful when you’re trapped in your sports bra, you’re beautiful when your chin is all bruised and turning blue. I like everything about you. Even the messy and confused and awkward parts. Even the selfish, self-preserving parts. I have made a searching and fearless inventory of how I feel about you, and while I’m still working this step, I think it’s safe to say that I’m falling in love with you.”

I slide my arms around his waist and pull him to me, letting him feel the warmth I’m feeling. “I’m falling in love with you, too.”

I rinse my hair and switch places with him so he can wash his. I soap up with some body wash from a small fancy spa bottle – discovering that’s the smell I always associate with him.

“One of my buddies in the Army turned me on to that stuff.” He holds a finger up in front of his lips. “Shh. Don’t tell.”

“Was this buddy a woman?” I ask. Interested, uh, curious, uh, kind of jealous of the person he’s talked about freaking fancy body wash with.

“Nope.” Duncan grins. “But his wife who works at that spa is.” He palms some of the suds from my breasts and rubs them on his chest.

I squirt a little more from the bottle into my hand and lather myself up everywhere.

We “clean” ourselves and each other off until the water begins to run cold, which is just about the time things between us are running really hot.

“Let’s get out,” I breathe as Duncan nips at my shoulder.

He reaches behind himself and shuts the water off. He gets out of the shower first, grabs a towel from the hook on the wall and hands it to me before getting one for himself.

Duncan dries off quickly and then takes my towel from my hands, and kneels down, drying my legs and feet. He hangs the towel back on the hook and then turns to me. “I can’t wait one more second...” Duncan puts his arms around me, grabs my ass and hoists me up. I circle my legs around his waist and hold on to his shoulders. I think things are about to get acrobatic.

Duncan swings the bathroom door open and strides down the hall to his bedroom, but before he carries me in there, he presses my back against the wall and kisses me hard.

The tipsy feeling that has been lingering, ratchets up and I go into full-on NEED and WANT mode. I tighten my legs around his waist and grasp the back of his head, pushing his mouth roughly to mine.

He is hard between my legs, sliding back and forth, nearly entering me, teasing. I tilt my hips to get him inside me, but Duncan scoots his pelvis away from mine. “I have other plans for you first.”

He carries me into the bedroom and lays me down sideways on top of his queen-size bed. “Put your hands above your head,” he orders and I wonder if he’s going to handcuff me.

I do as he asks and while he kisses me he holds my wrists together in one of his hands. He moves his mouth lower until he’s at my breasts and he has to let go of my wrists. I start to move my arms. “Keep them up there.”

“Since you’re asking so nicely,” I say, grabbing at the bedspread to keep myself from moving them again.

“Nice comes later,” he says, taking my right nipple into his mouth and twirling his tongue around it until my hips are bucking against his inner thighs, begging for him to fuck me. Duncan nips and licks and kisses his way down my body, working me into such a frenzy I’ve practically got the bedspread yanked up over my head.

Then he’s kneeling on the carpet and spreading my legs open, lightly licking my inner thighs, teasing just outside of where I want his tongue to be.

Just when I think I can’t stand it anymore, he gently flicks his tongue at my entrance and then flattens it out, tasting me again and again. I writhe against his mouth as he wraps his arms underneath my legs, holding me to him.

I cum so hard I see stars for the second time today. Spent, I can only watch as he gets to his feet, takes a condom from his bedside table, rips the package open, and puts the condom on.

Oh yeah. There’s going to be more.

Duncan takes hold of my hips, rolls me onto my stomach, and then pulls me up and enters me from behind. He rubs his left palm up and down my back, steadying himself with his right hand on my hip, while he thrusts into me.

I push up onto my hands so my face isn’t ramming into the bed. I turn and look back at him. “Pull my hair,” I say.

Duncan does as he’s asked and grasps my hair in his hand, tugging my head back enough so that it hurts a little, and therefore hurts good, but not so much that I don’t feel safe or like he’s out of control.

After a few more thrusts, he lets go of my hair and pulls out of me. I lie down on my stomach and then roll onto my back, wondering if he came. Duncan kneels on the bed between my legs. He’s still hard.

“Now for the nice.” He planks on top of me, easily holding up his body weight with his hands braced on either side of my head, his pelvis spreading my legs wide. This time when I lift my hips to draw him inside of me, he gives in. Duncan moves slowly, languidly, in and out of me, his eyes staring into mine.

I slide my palms over his chest and around to his back. “Come closer,” I say, hugging him to me.

Duncan lowers down onto me, shifting his weight to his left elbow. With his free hand he uses a lazy fingertip to trace the outline of my jaw. He starts grinding his hips against mine in tight circles, and I circle my hips the other way. I don’t know why I do this, I instinctually know it will feel amazing and it does. We’re in sync.

I jut my bruised chin out and Duncan kisses it tenderly. He continues making the circles, but balances things out by using both of his elbows.

“Grab hold of your knees and pull them up,” he instructs me. I do as he asks and he pushes deeper inside.

Duncan rests his forehead on mine. “Feel good?”

“Uh huh,” I manage to say.

“Are you going to cum for me again?”

I want to say yes, but my orgasms are few and far between. It takes me a while and not many guys can hang in there with me. “Maybe,” I say quietly, closing my eyes to help me concentrate on all of the things he’s making me feel.

Duncan kisses me gently. “What can I do to turn that maybe into a yes?”

I wrap my arms around his more tightly. “Put all of your weight on me. Hold me down.”

He cradles my head in his hands, his body moving on top of mine, a hundred points of contact. I’m not going to fly away. I’m not going to be left behind. He’s right here. All of him is right here with me.

Duncan lowers his face next to mine, the stubble from his cheek scratching lightly against my jawline. I turn my face away slightly and Duncan’s mouth finds my shoulder, he bites down on my flesh just enough to give me the focus I need.

My hands, flat against his back, round as I dig my fingernails into him. He bites my shoulder more forcefully and I counter.

“Oh, Jesus,” he moans, sliding his mouth over to my neck.

Something about him being less in control than I am blows the doors off of that control. My breath catches and I hold it in until my lungs burn, until my whole body relaxes and becomes limp and warm under Duncan.

He tenses, his fingers twisted in my hair, his face tucked into the crook of my neck, until he relaxes, crushing me into the bed.

I let out a little oomph, and Duncan is instantly up onto his hands, planking over me again. He smiles broadly and ducks his head to kiss me. “That was much anticipated,” he says, a smile in his voice.

We take care of the necessary condom disposal/post-sex pee break and reconvene in the kitchen. Neither of us has bothered to get dressed. I’m fairly certain I never want Duncan to put clothes on ever again, and from the way he’s giving me sexy side eye I think he feels the same.

He opens the cabinet next to the fridge and pulls out a big box of Lucky Charms, setting it on the counter. He nods toward the cabinet closest to me. “Grab us some bowls?”

I take two bowls out of the cabinet and then take a guess that the silverware is in the drawer next to the sink. I’m right, and Duncan grins at me as he takes the bowls and spoons from my hand. “It’s the most logical place for them.”

“Is this the most logical place for me to be?” I ask, hardly knowing where the question is coming from.

“I think so,” he says nodding. He pours us each a generous bowl of Lucky Charms and then splashes a little bit of milk on top – just the way I like it. “I’m here, and there’s sugar cereal and,” he glances at the digital clock on the microwave, “my soap’s about to start.”

I take the bowl of cereal he offers. “I love you.”

He chuckles, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “And I love you.”

––––––––

I
get back home just in time to do my evening chores. If Duncan didn’t have to go to work, I would probably still be sitting naked on his couch contemplating this new stage in our relationship.

The sex we had was weird. Weird in a good way, but not what I was used to. He knew what I wanted. He was on board with all of the things I asked from him without once hesitating or giving me a look like I’m some freak. But it also ... meant something. That’s why I am feeling so different, I’m having actual feelings.

“Some mail came for you,” Aunt Nina says, pushing a thick packet across the top of the desk as I pass through the office to grab my shoes.

I pick it up, turning it over in my hands. “It’s from PCC.” I tear the top of the envelope open and take out the welcome materials, including the catalog for the upcoming summer session.

Aunt Nina smiles at me and clasps her hands together in front of her chest. “Did you figure out what you wanted to go to school for?”

I can understand why she’s surprised. I didn’t want to mention anything to her until I was sure that I really wanted to go school and wasn’t just caving into expectations. But, I do. After spending more time with Yoshi and Val, going to PNCA is a goal that I want to achieve. I’m letting myself accept the fact that I’m a talented artist. “Art. I want to go to PNCA, so I’m going to take prerequisites at PCC and get my grades to an acceptable level before applying so I can hopefully get some help from scholarships.”

Aunt Nina jumps up from her desk and rounds it, coming at me. “Stan! Stan! Get in here!!!” She swoops me up in a smothering hug. “We will help you however we can.”

Uncle Stan comes running in from the kennel, holding the poo rake and dust pan. “What’s happened to Iz?” He stops short, the panic draining from his face.

“Izzy’s going to PCC to get her grades up so she can apply to PNCA,” Aunt Nina says, beaming.

“Well, hot damn!” Uncle Stan holds his arms out wide so as not to get any dog poo on us and leans over to give me a kiss on the forehead.

The proximity of the rake and dust pan are apparently still too close for me, as the smell causes all of my Lucky Charms to come surging back up and out onto my bare feet. It is so not magically delicious the second time around.

“Uh oh,” Aunt Nina says, “let’s hope the excitement was just too much for you.” She goes back behind the desk and grabs a roll of paper towels.

Uncle Stan, despite all of the gross things he’s around all the time, is a sympathy puker, so he hightails it out of the office.

Aunt Nina hands me a massive wad of paper towels and sends me to bed, proclaiming that I’m to take the evening off and she’ll take care of things for me.

I go into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Just the action of bending over makes me really lightheaded. I brace myself on the edge of the shower wall, the puke-y paper towels still in my hand. I toss them in the trash.

Another wave of nausea rolls through me. I take a drink of lukewarm water directly from the faucet, gulping it down until the need to throw up passes.

I strip off my clothes and toss them into another one of the plastic grocery bags from under the sink and get into the shower, hoping this shitty flu doesn’t stick around for much longer. Now that Duncan and I have finally done it, there is a lot more sex to look forward to in my future. I can’t believe I’d lasted, what, six weeks since ... oh, shit.

No. That isn’t what’s happening. I have the flu. For all I know, my period is all screwed up. I haven’t been sober for this long a stretch since before I started drinking, not to mention all of the exercise, the fat loss, the muscle gain ... my body doesn’t know how to respond to being healthy and happy. No. My body is changing for the better and I have the flu. That’s all that’s happening here.

My life cannot be falling apart just when I’m getting my shit together.

~

A
unt Nina comes into my room and throws the curtains open, disturbing my cave of sickness and slumber.

“Feeling better this morning?” she says, placing her palm on my forehead before she’s even done with her question.

“Ugh,” I groan. “I feel hungover without having had the benefit of the fun that comes with it.”