Not Looking For Love: Episode 5 (7 page)

"And what if I am?" I spit out, before I can stop myself. "He's served his time, and it's not a big crime."

My dad's face goes straight from pale white to crimson. "You're kidding me. How stupid are you? Think of your future!"

It's like granddaddy Henderson is sitting across from me, yelling at my father in this very living room the last time I saw him almost fifteen years ago.

I'm on my feet, panting, no tears getting through the burning anger rising in my chest. "My future? I am thinking about my future! I'm in love with Scott and nothing will ever change that."

"You're not a little girl anymore, Gail!" Dad shoots to his feet too. "You know dating a convicted criminal will destroy any future you hope to have as a lawyer."

"It didn't destroy yours!" I yell back, glaring at him, my face likely the same shade of red as his.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know very well!"

"That's completely different, Gail. I never got involved and I sent them all on their merry way," Dad says, the veil in his temple throbbing worse than ever. "Which is what you have to do with this Scott. Right now, tonight!"

But there's no way I ever will, and the mere suggestion sends a surge of ice cold air through my chest, making my knees wobble.

"You can't tell me what to do!" I yell and run from the living room.
 

"Be smart about this, Gail!" he yells, just before the front door slams shut behind me.

Scott's not home when I get to his apartment, and my head's still spinning from the argument with my dad. Because he's right, only I can't accept that, not now, and the only way I can erase this knowledge is having Scott's strong arms around me, and his lips pressed against mine.

I drink two lattes in the little bakery downstairs, and eat two chocolate croissants. At ten past seven, the girl behind the counter starts giving me dirty looks, and by half past she strides right up to my table and tells me to leave, because she has to close and go home.
 

I pay her and go wait outside for Scott. But it's freezing, and snow is coming down in hard icy balls. It's only marginally better inside the car.
 

He finally parks Andrew's car behind me at half past eight, and by then my lips are blue and I'm probably halfway to getting pneumonia.

"You waited out here all this time?" he asks, his misting breath obscuring his face.
 

I wrap my arms around him, swallowing hard so I won't start crying. Both his arms are squeezing me tight.

"You don't have your cast anymore?" I ask.

"I got it taken off." He places his arm around my shoulders, takes my bag and leads me down the alleyway.

"On a Saturday?" I ask leaning against him.

"Yeah, it's healed enough," he mutters and follows me into the building.

His otherwise very chilly apartment feels like walking into a furnace after the hours I spent outside in the cold.

"You really should have gone inside somewhere to wait," he says, rubbing his arms up and down mine.
 

"I needed to see you," I whisper, shivering now.

"It didn't go that well with your dad," he says. It's a statement and not a question, but I nod anyway.

He helps me take off my jacket his eyes fixed on mine, the fire burning inside them warm enough to thaw any frost, no matter how deep.
 

"Better get you warmed up," he says and peels off my sweater. But his eyes are doing that just fine on their own.

He takes off his own sweater and shirt, shadows playing across crevices of his ripped stomach.
 

I gasp as he presses his hot chest against mine, his arms wrapped so firmly around me I wonder if he'll even be able to let go. Not that I want him to, ever.

His warmth passes into me, cold receding like clouds before a gusting spring wind. His lips are everywhere, on the top of my head, my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, my lips. I take his lip between my teeth to keep him there, meet his tongue as it forces its way into my mouth.

His nails graze my skin as he unbuttons my jeans, and I help him pull them down as his tongue finds my nipple, his hands cupping my breasts, before they find their way to my ass, and it's like I'm floating in the air.

The bed wobbles beneath me as he pulls my jeans off all the way. And then his kisses are everywhere again, tracing a path down my neck, tickling my nipples, pressing against the soft skin of my stomach, warmth coursing through me like it's summertime. I moan as he finds my lower lips, arching my back and spreading my legs to give him better access.

His tongue is sending sparks of pure electricity right through me, lightening exploding before my tightly shut eyes. I whimper as an orgasm rips through me, all the remaining cold fleeing in a whoosh. His tongue travels back up the center of my stomach, along my neck, finally ending in a kiss. I can taste myself on him, and the heat building between my legs is urgent like I didn't just cum.
 

His hand is kneading my breast, his fingers squeezing my nipple, as his tongue forces it's way down my throat.
 

"You sure you're on the pill?" he asks, his voice hoarse and deep.

My eyes spring open, and I'm sucked into the sparkling snowy plain stretching far and wide in his eyes, the sun making my skin glow. "Yes, I'm positive. I just took today's pill while I waited for you."

I scoot up higher on the bed, and watch him take off his jeans, the buckle rattling against the floor. I spread my legs wide, shaking again, but in anticipation of finally getting to feel him inside me. Like it was meant to be.

He runs his cock across my opening, and I'm holding my breath, preparing for him to enter me. But he doesn't and I exhale sharply, digging my nails into his biceps. He does it again, and this time, the head slips in just a little, and I gasp at the softness, the rightness.

"Please just put it in," I murmur. My insides are aching for his presence, the emptiness insufferable.

But he just smiles and runs the head across my opening again. "All in good time, Gail."

It's so close, and yet so far and my whole body is crackling in anticipation, the heat rising between my legs hot enough to cause cramps.
 

I wrap my legs around his waist and hold him in place, raising my hips a little, slamming my arms against the bed. "I can't wait any longer."

He laces his fingers in mine and leans in for a kiss. I meet his tongue, thankful at least that much of him is inside me. I groan as his cock finally presses in, stretching me wide, entering relentlessly. I dig my fingers into his hand as it finally reaches the spot deep inside. He pulls out, slides back in deeper. The slow penetration is making the room spin all around me. I close my eyes and his cock seems to expand inside me, pushing so deep, it might never come out.

He pulls out, and my eyes shoot open as he thrusts into me faster, harder than before. He's pressing my hands into the bed, penetrating me at full speed, his eyes narrowed, his breaths coming in hard short grunts. The bed is wobbling so hard that I'm propelled right into him with each thrust. I'm whimpering now, because his flesh is so hard and wet inside me, so hot and relentless, so deep and pliant that I can hardly tell where I end and he begins.
 

The heat is rising in sharp pulses inside me, each longer, harder than the last. His thrusts are all beating against the expanding spot deep inside me, sparks breaking off, forming yet more pools of molten lava. And then they all join, form a lake of heat I can't ever hold back, and I can hear my screams, but all I really know is the heat spreading through every cell inside me, because my entire stomach is on fire, my mind a red hot mess.

He thrust into me one last time, and I feel him cum inside me, gushing against the hot lava yet to subside. He's shivering too, his cock buried so deep I feel it in my chest, his eyes blue like the stormy summer sky.
 

I feel him soften inside me, but he doesn't pull out, just lies down across my chest and kisses me softly. I'm squeezing against him, because I can't handle the sudden emptiness, and run my feet across his calves, my hands down his back.

"Don't do that, if you're not ready for more," he whispers, right before his tongue enters my ear and I moan, clenching hard against his cock. It's swelling inside me, and I squeeze it again, because I want him to fill me whole and completely.

He wraps his arms around my back, flipping me over so I'm on top, gasping at the sharp tug of his cock still inside me. It's hard as a rock again and buried so deep, a single movement will send me right over the edge again. I lean down and kiss his neck, my fingers pressing into his hard pecks, sliding down his stomach, his cock throbbing inside me. He gasps as I find his nipples and squeeze, bucks his hips up so I land hard against his cock on the way down.
 

I could start rocking up and down, but then it would all be over too soon again, and his flesh is like velvet inside me, filling me like it belongs, like I finally found what I've been missing.

He places his arms behind his head, his muscles flexed and bulging, and rocks me again. "What? You're just gonna look?"

I bite down on my lower lip and run my palms down his arms, pressing gently. "For now."

I explore his crevices, nooks and crannies, hills and valleys with my fingers, my tongue, for what feels like hours, until I hardly feel his cock inside me anymore, like it's finally melted into me for real.

But he reminds me it's not, as he grabs hold of my hips, lifts me up and thrusts into me. The room jolts sideways, the wall melting before my eyes. Only he doesn't let up, keeps thrusting into me, straight up and deep, his arms preventing me from moving away. Not that I would if I could. The blinding tornado building inside me is nothing I can control, and I hold onto his forearms, like that's the only thing that will keep me from getting blown away. The coiling heat is stabbing at my very core, threatening to unravel me.
 

His thrusts don't let up, and I'm writhing, screaming, because my entire being is twirling around his cock, the explosion building now probably the last I'll ever feel, because nothing can remain after it comes.

And I can't hold it back anymore, can't fight it, because the heat is rising straight to my brain, and the walls are red from it, the room spinning like a centrifuge.

I throw my head back and scream out as the explosion starts, only it doesn't stop, keeps coming in ever rising waves. My throat is sore when I'm finally resting against Scott's chest again, his heaving breaths so hard they're lifting my head.
 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I wake up the next morning on my side, with Scott's arm wrapped around me, and no memory of when I fell asleep. My things are sticky and heat twinkles to life between my legs at the memory of last night. Scott's hard cock is pressing into the small of my back, but he's still asleep.

I adjust my position slightly and rub up against him, trying to get it to slide down closer to my opening.
 

Scott moans, and pulls me closer by my belly, just as his cock slides across my wetness.

"Are you sure?" he mutters, his voice thick with sleep.

"Positive," I mutter, and lift my leg, balancing it against his thighs.

His cock slides in easily this morning, and I moan at the mixing of pleasure and soreness inside me. He's running his hand up and down my thigh, thrusting into me slowly but firmly, each stab waking more heat, until my swollen insides are on fire. His fingers are playing with my clit, rubbing gently and my orgasm builds and builds, breaks off into a tiny explosion racking through me every few thrusts, but keeps on building. I lean back into him, never wanting it to end.
 

I cum the hardest as his seed spills into me again, coating my soreness, taking all the pain.
 

He's still sleeping when I wake up again, but this time I don't wake him, because honestly I can't take anymore. Not right now. Maybe later tonight.

He's leaning against the wall with the blanket draped across his legs, when I come out of the bathroom wearing a pair of leggings and his sweatshirt.

"So you've had enough, I take it?" he says and stretches.

"For now," I say and climb into bed beside him, running my palm down his chest.

"Then you probably won't want to do that," he says and smiles, his eyes softer than a misty forest at dawn.

He throws the blanket off, and gets up. "Alright then. I'll get dressed and we can get something to eat."

"Right, so you can fatten me up," I mutter, trying not to imagine his cock buried deep inside me for the rest of the day.

"Well, not too much, Gail," he says. "Just enough."

It gets dark out too soon, and I have a seven o'clock class the next morning. I can't miss it because it's part of my degree requirement, but all that's very hazy as I'm standing in Scott's embrace. He's holding me tight like he'll never let go.

"Are you sure you can't come with me?" I ask, my voice muffled by his shirt.

"Not tonight," he says, his voice rumbling through my ears. "Tomorrow."

His breath hitches slightly, and I hug him tighter still, because I want to make it all better for him, right now and forever. And after last night, I'm finally starting to believe I can.

His apartment is much neater than any other time I've been here, the boxes stacked against one wall, the clothes in his suitcase folded, for the most part.
 

"We'll put together that furniture we bought next time I come," I say.
 

"Sure, we can do that," he says, and finally lets me go, running his hands down my arms.
 

I walk out of his apartment in a daze, and I don't come to until I'm halfway to Connecticut. I'm still wearing his sweatshirt, and I can smell him as clearly as if he were sitting in the car with me. Which is the main reason I stole his shirt in the first place.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Once I get home, I fall asleep almost the second my head hits the pillow. It's actually amazing I wake up in time to catch my seven o'clock class at all, because I forgot to set my alarm clock. I called Scott as soon as I got in, but he didn't pick up, so I was sure he'd call me back.