Wallbanger (49 page)

He stood back up and thrust. Hard.

Last wit? Bye-bye. I ain’t too proud to beg. “God, Simon, I give. Just fuck me.”

“Apple pie for me?”

“Yes, yes! Apple pie for you! Oh, God…”

“That’s right, apple pie for me, apple pie for—God, you’re tight this way.” He groaned, switching both of my legs to one side, holding them up as he pounded into me, again and again, never retreating, only advancing, looking down at me, watching as my back arched and my skin flushed, heat creeping as my climax broke over me, stunning me silent in its intensity as I was shaken to the very core of my being.

“I love you, Caroline, I love you, I love you, I love you,” he chanted, thrusting erratically now as he sped toward his own release, sweat breaking over his brow as he clutched at my hips as I clutched him from the inside, holding him as long as I could, feeling his solid weight on me as he laid his head on my breast. How could his warm weight feel so good? It should have made it hard to breathe, constriction of the lungs and all that, but it didn’t. Holding him, cradling his face as I swept his hair back, it felt the opposite of heavy.

“You’re going to kill me, sure as I’m lying here,” he moaned, kissing everywhere he could.

“I love you too,” I sighed, gazing at my kitchen ceiling. I could feel a smile as big as the bay across my face. The O was going to be around for a very long time.

No way am I painting my kitchen blue.

9:32 p.m.

“I can’t believe this is the second time we’re cleaning flour and sugar off each other. What’s wrong with us?”

“The sugar is good for exfoliation,” I explained. “Not sure what good the flour is doing us, though.”

“Exfoliation?”

“Yeah, I figure every time we sex it up out there, all that sugar helps us remove dead skin cells.”

“Really, Caroline? Dead skin cells? That’s hardly sexy.”

“You weren’t complaining earlier.”

“Well no, how could I? You promised to bake me an apple pie. Don’t forget that part.”

“I won’t forget, but I was somewhat under duress.”

“You were under me, not under duress, under
me
.”

“Yes, Simon, I was under you.”

“Wash your back?”

“Yes, please.”

We lay on opposite sides of the tub, relaxing and soaking off yet another round of kitchen goo. At some point, I was going to have to clean all that mess up, but right now the only thing I could concentrate on was this man in front of me. This man, up to almost his neck in fragrant bubbles, strong arms snaking out now to bring me closer. I spun in the tub like a buoy, bobbing back and forth and arranging myself in front of him. He used a washcloth to gently remove the last of the sticky that covered me. Then he pulled me to his chest, leaning back against the edge of the tub. Arms encircled me, tucking me in, surrounding me with warm water and warmer Simon. I closed my eyes, relishing the feel of it all. The safety, the sweetness, the sexiness. I shifted, trying to get impossibly closer, and then I felt him against my bum. Growing.

“Why, hello there, friend,” I murmured, sneaking my hand through the bubbles to find him, wanting and wanton.

“Caroline…” he warned, laying his head back on the edge of the tub.

“What?” I asked innocently, trailing my fingers along the sides of him, feeling him react.

“I’m not seventeen, you know.” He chuckled, his voice growing husky and needy in spite of his words.

“Thank goodness, or I would have to answer for my actions—corrupting a minor and all that,” I whispered, slowly turning over to rub myself along the length of him, soap and bubbles and water making me slippery.

He hissed slightly and smiled. “You’re going to break me, you know this, right? I swear on all that’s holy, I’m not a machine—Christ, don’t stop doing that.” He groaned, thrusting into my hand without thought.

“Ah, break schmake. I just want to fuck you until you can’t see straight,” I purred, tightening my fist as he splashed water over the side a bit.

“I can barely see as it is. There seem to be three of you.” He moaned, pulling my legs apart and positioning me above him.

“Aim for the one in the middle, Simon,” I instructed and slid down.

Yeah, we had some water to clean up.

11:09 p.m.

“I’m just going to get the food. I need sustenance, woman.”

“Get it, then hurry back to me. I need you, Simon. Why are you crawling on the floor?”

“I don’t think I can actually stand at this point. The machine needs a break. The machine may very well need repairs. The machine, wait, what’re you doin’ there, Caroline?”

“What, this?”

“Yeah, yeah, it looks like you’re—wow, do you touch yourself like that a lot?”

“I haven’t lately, why? Looks good to you, yes?”

“Yes, that’s…wow…um…that’s the door…the guy with the Thai is here. I…and I…Thai…I…”

“Are you really rhyming right now, Simon? Mmm, that feels nice…”

“Hello! Hello, anyone there? Someone called in an order for—dude, how am I supposed to give you your change?”

“Keep the change.”

“Dude, you shoved a fifty under the door. You know that’s like a thirty-dollar tip, right?”

“Keep the change. Leave the Thai. Caroline, get on that bed.”

“Mmm, so close, Simon. Sure you don’t…want…me…to…mmm…finish…oooh. I love when you do that.”

“Mmph, mumph, hah, hooo…”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon, Siiimmooooon…”

“Okay, dude. I’m totally setting your food out here. Um, thanks for the tip.”

1:14 a.m.

We lay in bed, limp and a little stupid. My poor Simon, I’d ridden him to the brink of extinction. He wasn’t a teenager, but even he was surprised by his…hmm…stamina. After the last round of crazytown, he crawled back to the hallway, retrieved the food, and we ate Thai sitting in the middle of the bed. I’d quickly stripped the sheets because raisins and flour clouds lingered from earlier. The amount of work I was going to be faced with in the kitchen tomorrow was daunting, but it was worth it. All of it. All of it was worth it.

Now we lounged, settled but not settling. Still wrapped around each other but now clad in a pink nightie and a pair of sweatpants. To be clear, I wore the pink nightie. We lay side by side, facing each other, legs tangled and hands held.

“When do you have to go back to work?”

“I told Jillian I’d be back Monday, although that is the last thing I can think about right now.”

“What
are
you thinking about?”

“Spain.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it was amazing. Thank you so much for taking me, and then taking me.” I nudged him with my elbow.

“It was my pleasure, on both counts. I’m glad you could…come,” he snorted.

Now that the O had returned, we could joke about it. We were quiet for a moment, just enjoying the music. Simon had hobbled next door a little while ago to put on a record. Even hobbled, he was sexy.

“When are you leaving for Peru? Ass, I still hate you a little for getting to go, but when are you leaving?”

“About two weeks. And no hating on the photographer. I have to go, but I’ll always come back.”

“Oh, to be clear, I don’t hate you for leaving. I hate you because I want to go too. But I digress. I love you more than I hate you, so we’re good.”

“We’re good?”

“Yes, of course. You have to travel for your job. It’s not like I didn’t know this.”

“Well, knowing about it and then being the one left behind are two different things,” he said, eyes getting a little cloudy. I smoothed my hand across his cheek, feeling his scruff and skin and watching him lean into my touch. His eyes closed, and he hummed a contented hum.

“You’re not
leaving me behind
. We live busy lives and will continue to do so. Just because you get to stick your dick in me now, that isn’t going to change us,” I replied.

A slow grin spread across his face. Eyes still closed, but grinning. “Sometimes dicks change people,” he said through the grin.

“Sometimes dicks change what needs to be changed. Sometimes dicks make it better.”

“Sometimes dicks make it better—what an odd thing to say.”

“Stick around, who knows what I’m gonna say next.”

“Sticking.”

“Stuck.”

“Going to kiss you now.”

“Thank Christ.” I giggled as he wrapped his strong arms around me. We kissed quietly, thoughtfully. I settled down into his nook, perfectly shaped and smelling like heaven.

“I adore this nook.”

“Good.”

“No one else gets this nook.”

“It’s yours.”

“Yes, yes it is. Make sure you tell that to all those gorgeous Peruvian women who will try to seduce the hot American.”

“I’ll make sure to tell them my nook is spoken for.”

I smiled and yawned hugely. It had been an exhausting few days. I was jet lagged and had been rocked to within an inch of my life. Tended to make a girl tired. Simon leaned across me to shut off the light and tucked me back into the nook.

1:23 a.m.

“Simon?”