Dirty White Candy, Ultimate Vacation, Book 2 (9 page)

He stood, eyes meeting mine, burning with desire.
 
Pulling me in, he kissed me hard, tongue invading my mouth, hands firm on my ass pulling me so close I felt his heart beating through his chest, pulsating through is erection.

John bent down, scooping me up in his arms.
 
He grinned and gave me a quick kiss before carrying me out of the hot tub room and into the bedroom.
 
Gently, he eased me onto the bed climbing on top of me.
 
I could see the sun starting to rise, as the sky lightened.
 
We had been up all night.
 
I was tired, but far too willing to see what John had in mind.

“We’re going to probably sleep most of tomorrow away.
 
Are you okay with that?” he asked.

“I think I will manage.”

“Good, because I’m not going to let you sleep for a while.”
 
John kissed me, biting lightly at my lip.
 
His breath was heavy.

My heart was racing so fast, I felt my face flush.
 
I fought to get to his neck, tonguing and kissing it once I reached my destination.
 
Even through the faint chlorine smell from the hot tub, I could smell his heavenly musk and cologne.
 

His fingers had made their way to the slit between my thighs.
 
He massaged me, spreading around my moisture until I was nearly breathless.

“John please,” I begged, “I want you so bad.”

He groaned deep in his throat and pushed himself into me slowly.
 
I gasped as felt myself stretching to accommodate him, adrenaline soaring through my veins.
 
I dug my fingers into his back as I pawed at him.

His reaction was to push harder into me and I ached around him.

He sat up, pulling me on top of him.
 
“God, you feel so good,” he gasped.
 
“I have such a hard time not letting go as soon as I’m inside you, especially since we stopped using condoms.”

I had made that step with John only a week ago.
 
He was the only one I chose to trust
 
with my health and the benefits of skin to skin sex for us had been phenomenal.
 
I could feel every inch of his cock, the head, the veins, his thickness and it made me clutch the bed sheets.

He eased me up and down on him as he devoured me breasts.
 
His pelvic area stimulating me on the outside as he filled every part of me inside.
 
One of his hands had managed to fist my hair and he pulled enough to tilt my head back.

“I’m destroyed, Candy.
 
I can’t hold out much longer,” he plead.

It was okay, I was exhausted too and forcing a long lovemaking session would be selfish.
 
“Give it to me, John.
 
Please, give it to me.”

John pulled me down on him hard, releasing a groan from deep within.
 

My body ached for more, but I was so tired, it was difficult to focus.
 
“We have all afternoon tomorrow.”

He pulled me down next to him, curling up behind me.
 
“Sleep, my sweet Candy.
 
Sleep.”
 
He kissed the back of my neck.

NIGHT IN

When I woke, the sun was setting and I was in bed alone.
 
I had no idea what time it was, but knew that work on Monday was going to be difficult with my sleep schedule upside down.
 
I didn’t get out of bed immediately.
 
I stayed there looking around the room, taking in the genius that was John.
 
The room looked warm and inviting without being overly feminine.
 
Anyone could be comfortable here.

Finding my bearings, I sat up and grabbed one of John’s shirts out of the closet, putting it on as I made my way to the master bathroom.
 
After a quick freshening up, I started walking around the apartment.
 
John was gone.
 
I was there alone and in desperate need of coffee.

In the kitchen I found a bag of coffee, a grinder and a French press with a note.

I’ve run out to grab some groceries, I’ll be back.
 
You probably know how to use this stuff more than I do and I know how you are before you have your coffee.

He was right.
 
I was usually grumpy and groggy before my first cup of the day.
 
I filled the kettle and put it on the stove.
 
Six o’clock.
 
It was already six.
 
Suddenly I felt sad that I had slept away one whole day off.
 
Truth was, I probably needed the rest.
 
I had been working hard at work and at home, sacrificing sleep for time with friends and lovers.
 
I couldn’t keep up that pace forever.

Hearing the whistle of the kettle I turned off the stove and filled the French press, adding the coffee and stirring the mixture.
 
Honestly, I’d rather just use a coffee pot.
 
Fill the thing up and turn it on.
 
I was a fan of working smarter, not harder.
 
Staring at the press I nearly willed it to be ready when I pushed the top down.
 
Thankfully, I had a drinkable cup of coffee to clutch and sip.

Cup in hand, I wandered into the living room.
 
The far wall stopped me in my tracks.
 
The wall, the whole wall, was filled with records—actual vinyl.
 
There had to be hundreds lining the wall on a built-in shelving unit.
 
I had no idea John collected them, probably because I hadn’t spent much time there.
 
Until now, I had never felt very selfish, but standing in awe of this beautiful wall with old albums, I realized I had never spent any time trying to get to know John.
 
Up until now, I’d only worried about my own feelings.
 
To really know him was opening myself up to falling in love and until now, I hadn’t been ready for that.

“Good evening sleepy head.”
 
John was standing in the entry way, arms loaded with grocery sacks.

“Hey there!”
 
I rushed over to help him with his load.

“No, I got it.”
 
He shrugged off my help.
 
“It’s only a few feet to the kitchen.”
 
He walked into the kitchen with me on his heels.

“John, you have so many records. I never knew you collected them.”
 
I started pulling items out of bags to help him put away the groceries.

“Leave the steaks out,” he said with a grin, “we’re having a great dinner tonight.”

“That sounds wonderful.
 
So how long have you been collecting those records?”
 
I asked as I stocked the fridge.

He shrugged, “since I was about fourteen or fifteen.”

“Why didn’t you just switch to tape and CD
 
with everyone else?”
 
I eyed him.
 
He didn’t seem fazed by the discussion.

“I have CDs and I had tapes when I had something to play them on, at least until they wore out.
 
But vinyl is pretty durable if it’s taken care of.
 
It’s not that easy to find some older music and the original cuts just sound different.”
 
His hands had paused and he was staring at the countertop.
 
“Then there’s the feel and smell of an old album.”
 
He shook his head.
 
“It’s getting harder and harder to find replacement needless for my record player, but now with the internet, I have a few places I can buy them online.”

“I can’t believe you bought all those.
 
There’s a fortune on that wall.
 
I’d put in a more secure lock or something.”
 

John laughed.
 
“Not a lot of people would know the value of that old vinyl.
 
Some of it wouldn’t fetch fifty cents, but there are some pretty rare records in there.
 
But I didn’t buy them all.
 
I inherited at least half from my father.
 
Some of it is stuff I don’t really listen to.
 
There’s some stuff in there from the forties and older.
 
You know, the big bands, swing…”

We both laughed.

“That word has certainly taken on a different meaning, hasn’t it?”
 
I teased.

“You could say that.
 
So how do you like your steak?”

“Medium.
 
So is it like a hobby for you?
 
Do you go in search of old vinyl?”
 
Maybe I was too eager to learn more about John.
 
He gave me a sideways glance.

“Why the sudden interest in my record collection?”

“Just trying to get to know you better, is all.
 
I’m sorry for prying.”
 
Biting my lip, I’d hoped I wasn’t irritating him.

“I see…”
 
He grabbed the steaks and went onto the balcony.
 
He pulled a beer out of his back pocket and opened it with the spatula.
 

I giggled.

The night before, we were in a swing club.
 
Today, he was grilling on the balcony like we were an old couple, secure enough to have carried a beer in his back pocket, carefree and unconcerned about appearing cool.

Still standing at the kitchen island, I leaned against it with my coffee and watched him as he manned the grill, lighting it, cleaning it and setting the damper.
 
His dark sandy waves blew in the breeze.

He came back into the kitchen and winked as he pulled halved potatoes out of the oven and scooped out the contents.

“Can I make a request?” I asked.

“For dinner?
 
Sure.”

“After dinner,” I smiled.

“Ma’am, I’m all yours.
 
I’ll even paint your toenails if you want but you can’t paint mine.”
 
He gave me a goofy grin.
 
Even his goofy side was sexy. That’s just wrong.

“I really want to stay in your shirt, curl up on the couch and rent a movie.
 
It doesn’t have to be a chick flick, so long as it’s not horror.
 
I don’t do well with scary movies.”
 
I bit my lip again, hoping it didn’t sound like the lamest night ever.

“That sounds fantastic.
 
Any excuse to keep you in my shirt is okay with me.
 
But there’s just one problem.
 
I don’t have cable or satellite.
 
I don’t have enough time to watch TV to justify the expense.”

“You have an enormous television!”

“Yeah, because when I decide to take a day off, I sometimes watch movies.
 
I could go rent a movie.”
 
He mixed cheese, bacon, butter and sour cream in with the potato guts.

“You don’t have to do that.
 
I could just go to my place and grab my laptop.
 
I can hook it right to your TV and stream any movie that’s available on DVD right now.”
 

“Technology!
 
I’ll never catch up.
 
But I’ll go to your place.
 
Otherwise, you’ll have to put pants on, and I can’t have that.”
 
He kissed my cheek as he spooned the potato mixture back into the shells.

“Come on!
 
You’re making twice baked potatoes, steaks on the grill and you build masterpieces.
 
I’ll manage the technology!”
 
I poured another cup of coffee as I watched him go back to the balcony.
 
The smell of charbroiling steaks and twice baked potatoes had my stomach growling.

“About five minutes,” he called from the balcony.
 
“Would you press the start button on the microwave please?”

“Yeah,” I said as I pressed start.
 
The man was amazing me.
 
He’d made me breakfast before, but I didn’t know he could cook a meal like this.
 
The smells filling his apartment had me feeling ravenous.