Ditching The Dream (Dream Series) (17 page)

Smart man that he was, he understood. He crawled onto the bed until he reached my breasts. His hand reached under my back and he expertly unhooked the strap and then pulled the bra away from my body, tossing it to who knew where. His mouth came down on my left breast and a hand trailed its way downward and quickly unfastened the button, then pulled down the zipper.

He sat up and slid his hands into the waistband of my jeans and worked them down over my hips. He sucked air in through his teeth as the matching pink satin panties were exposed. I found it in my head to kick off my shoes and he jumped into action, swiftly removing the jeans from my legs, and returned to the bed.

“You are stunning,” he breathed before capturing my mouth. My hands dug into his lush head of thick, brown hair. His kisses started to trail to my chin, then my neck and ultimately back to my heaving breasts. A hand resumed its trail back down to its original destination, gently exploring every inch of skin, and where normally I was a very ticklish person, his touch was only seductive.

I was coming undone. My mind was blank. Only touch remained. The tequila was making my head swim more than I had realized. He started to drag a finger up my inner thigh and stopping just short of where I was begging for him to go.

“So hot…” he growled. I tilted my hips up to meet his hand, but his hand reached down to stroke up the other inner thigh. My breath grew more and more ragged. Why was he teasing me when he had to know what I wanted?

“Please,” I squeaked.

“Mmmmm, please what?” he said as he shifted and moved to my other breast. I moaned as he gently nipped at the underside.

He wasn’t going to make me say it, was he? I had already dragged him to my bed. And his hand was almost there, again.
PLEASE!
I screamed in my head. I tilted my hips again as his hand neared the apex of my thighs.

“So soft…” he muttered, not moving his hand any further.

“Please…” I begged.

“What would you like me to do?”

My grip on his hair tightened. Yes, I was drunk, but asking for anything sexual wasn’t in my nature. But I needed this. My shower moment last night wasn’t enough. I needed a man.

“Please… please…”

“Ask for it, Liz. Tell me what you want. Tell me what pleases you.” He took my nipple with his teeth and I was sure I was going to die. My insides coiled so tightly. I was nearing the top of a mountain, breathless. I couldn’t talk. But I needed his touch.

“Touch me, please!” I blurted.

I felt him smile on my breast, as his hand came up to my belly and slipped into my panties. When his fingers brushed against my clit, I nearly shot off the bed.

I was struggling to get my breathing under control when he slipped a finger into my folds.

“So wet…” he muttered at my breast, the vibrations from his voice sending an added sensation that fueled the raging fire in my belly and now clenching womanhood.

He worked his hand into my panties and slid down, his fingers creating a rhythm of dipping into me, and his thumb circling my clit. My hips found a rhythm with his hand. Three circles on my clit then plunging into me.

“So tight…” he groaned and he pressed his erection into my side. His finger was joined by a second, sliding in and out as his tongue flicked and licked at my breast with the same beat.

“I’d love a southern feast,” he grunted.

“Please!” I replied nearly shouting. I was standing at the top of my mountain, ready to fly when he suddenly moved and was now positioned between my legs. My panties still in place, he pulled the fabric to the side and dove down, his nose only a fraction of an inch away from my sex.

“You smell like heaven,” he whispered, his breath hot on my needy mound. His tongue lashed out and slowly swept upward from the bottom of my slit toward my clit. When he finally reached my button, his lips clamped down. He flicked his tongue over my bud then he slid two fingers and stroked a “come hither” motion. My hands reached for my own breasts as I grasped them and started to shudder in a glorious climax, speaking incoherently.

“Oh my – I – Shhhh! Ah! – Please – Jesus – Ah…” and I was undone. Spiraling through space. I was vaguely aware of my insides clenching around Kevin’s hand.

He slowly started to lick my fluids away as my quivering, mad utterances, and wild breathing subsided.

Kevin climbed up to my face and said, “You taste even better.” Then he kissed me and I could taste myself. This was a first for me. Greg had only gone down on me less than a handful of times, and quite frankly, that was fine because he wasn’t very good at it. If he were to go down on me like
that,
well then… but tasting myself… I don’t think Greg would even do that. He was too “clean” a guy. He always jumped out of bed and washed up after any sort of sex before returning to bed.

Kevin deepened the kiss and I felt my climb begin again.

Fumbling. Urgent. With new found confidence, I surprised myself by pushing Kevin onto his back and straddled him. Looking down at his mussed hair and glowing eyes, I felt his throbbing manhood under my soaked sex. He was totally adorable, biting his lower lip. He was breathing heavy. I saw in his eyes that he was okay with me taking charge.

I snaked a hand down to his jeans and adeptly undid the button, then pulled the zipper down.

“What are you after?” he asked.

What was I after? “More,” I replied breathlessly.

Kevin stilled, and regarded me carefully. “More what?”

“More of you… I want
this,
” I said, reaching between us, and into his jeans and. I firmly ran my hand up and down his erection over his underwear.
Were they boxers or briefs?
I wondered.

He gulped and blinked. “I’ll be right back,” he said slipping out from under me and off the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Condoms.”

“You’re going to the store?” I exclaimed.

“No, just my apartment. I’ll be right back.” He leaned over and gave me a kiss then made tracks to the door.

I laid back on the bed bewildered by what I was doing. That was the best orgasm of my life. With a guy clearly younger than me. And he seemed thrilled to be along for the ride. I was so hopeful of what I would find in those jeans.

I
slipped back into her apartment, a couple condoms in hand, and quietly closed the door.

When I rounded the corner to Elizabeth’s bedroom, she was sound asleep. Her red lips slightly parted, her beautiful chest rising and falling.

As intense as my need was, I didn’t have the heart to wake her. I sat in the chair facing the bed and watched her. She was everything I thought she’d be. Smart. Funny. Thoughtful.

Her lips. Her tongue. Her hips. Every sensual curve of her body was siren to me. She wasn’t some skin and bones bimbo out for god knows what. She was self-assured. She was hungry. She was wild.

When I had asked my past girlfriends to tell me what they wanted, they refused to answer. Liz had told me twice.

I must have watched Liz sleep for a half an hour before I was caving to the call of sleep myself. I got up and gingerly kissed her, covered her with the blanket, and turned out her light.

In my own apartment, I suddenly felt so alone. I should have climbed into bed with her and curled myself around her. I’d never craved a woman so much in my life.

W
ednesday morning I awoke to my cell phone ringing, a terrible headache, and a horrible case of cotton mouth.

I reached blindly for my phone but it wasn’t on my bedside. It sounded like it was by my front door. I got out of bed to a shock of finding myself clad only in my underwear. I scurried to my purse that was dropped on the floor next to my shirt and suddenly the night before started to come back to me.

Kevin. And tequila. And dancing. And Kevin.
Oh god! Kevin!
What had I done?

My cell phone stopped ringing. I fished it out of my purse and looked at the display to see that the missed call was from Ed Scott’s and that it was already a quarter to eleven!
Shit!
I was late!

I quickly called work and spoke with Shelby. I explained that I’d overslept, and that I needed a quick shower and would be in within the half hour. I was grateful that the GM John was out managing another location this week or I’d have lost this job for sure.

The shower was quick, but the tender areas of my body reminded me of the activities of the night before. Dressing quickly I hoped that I recalled all that needed recollection. I didn’t remember ‘going all the way’ but maybe I just blacked out after that glorious orgasm. My insides twitched at the memory of Kevin’s head between my legs. His tongue having a, what did he call it? A ‘southern feast?’
Oh god! Oh God! Oh GOD!
I groaned.

As I made my way down the hall to leave for work, tip-toeing past Kevin’s door, I pressed the elevator call button. This was where it started. I couldn’t bring myself to take the elevator and took the stairs instead.

I nearly ran the nine blocks to work. Coupled with my run down the stairs, I had practically undone my shower. But at least I’d washed the sex off. By the time I reached work, I had convinced myself that I’d indeed gone all the way and couldn’t remember it. What a slut that made me. And I had to live down the hall from Kevin. Maybe I should just call it quits and go back to California now.

But that wouldn’t work. Somehow Greg was right. I needed to get ‘this’ out of my system. And maybe I’m learning more about myself than I’d intended, but learning was learning, right?

Grabbing my apron, grateful I’d made it to work in record time, I slid behind the bar and looked over the checklist that Shelby clearly had started on. Only a couple more set up items to finish, so I chose to prep the lemons.

I did my best to focus on the task at hand and push last night’s debauchery out of my mind. I washed the lemons and set them on the cutting board.

Shelby slid behind the bar a few moments later, as cheery as ever.

“Hey, Shel. Sorry I’m late! Thanks for covering. Did you have a good Monday night off?” I asked her.

“Yes and no. I broke it off with Dave.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied.

“Nah, it needed to be done. Been needing to do it for weeks actually. He took it hard, and that was the bad part. But I sure do feel like a two-hundred and forty pound weight has been lifted off my back,” she said with a laugh.

“What have you been up to since Monday night?” she asked.

Um Jack? Kevin?
“Not much. Work, running, reading.”

“Did you see Jack?”

“Huh? What? Why?”

“Oh, Tom was telling me how Jack had you pinned under his gaze all night on Monday.”

Monday seemed like a lifetime ago after my Tuesday with Kevin. And here we are on –
Oh! No! It’s Wednesday.
Dinner with Jack tonight. What have I gotten myself into? I can’t imagine that dating the customers wouldn’t be frowned upon, so I opted to not mention the plans that Jack had forced on me… Forced? Really? No, not really. Truth was that I wanted to go. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to know more about Jack-ass… no. I wanted to know more about Jack.

“Tom is just imagining things.”

“We’ll see,” Shelby sang.

The lunch shift moved along slowly. Apparently it was the “Subway Series”, where the Yankees played the Mets, and it was an afternoon game today. Shelby said she loved this series because things were a bit quieter with all the fans going to the games, or to bars with televisions, something, thankfully, that Ed Scott’s did not have.

With an hour to go on my shift, and not a soul around, I started to clean the lit wall of bottles at the back of the bar. Methodically, I took down each bottle, cleaned it and the space where the bottle sat, and replaced it. I guess I was hoping that a robotic task would take my mind off of the past thirty-six hours. Jack’s boldness, his talented hands and lips… Not to mention what I could remember of Kevin and his, e-hem,
southern
ways.

The orgasm Kevin brought out of me was unlike any I’d ever experienced with Greg. But then again, sex with Greg was a quasi-scheduled expectation, not a spontaneous need. Not an exploration. I just wish I could remember the sex!