Operation One Night Stand (18 page)

I laid my head against his thighs as he caught his breath.

“Caroline, that was”—he lifted my head and looked me in the eyes—“amazing.”

“Well, thanks.
I aim to please.”
I giggled into the palm of his hand as I kissed it.

Suddenly, he reached down, grabbing me by my waist and lifting me off the floor.

“Your turn,” he breathed into my ear as he spun me around and threw me on the spot he’d just vacated on the couch.
Slowly easing my jeans down over my hips, he pulled them off and threw them over my head.
Placing a hand on either side of my naked thighs, he kissed me deeply.

As his tongue explored my mouth, his hands reached around and unhooked my bra.
The ferocity of his kiss pushed me back into the couch cushions and I moaned into his mouth.

He tugged at my thin silk panties until they tore.
His fingers found me, already slick with want, and massaged the inside of my folds.
When I felt the current rise in my belly, he pinched me and I called out in anticipation as he slid a finger inside.

His tongue danced with mine and he slipped another finger inside me.
His touch was like nothing I’d ever experienced before.
It was urgent and gentle.
Ferocious and calm.
A lesson in opposites.
He had to know I would come quickly and he fingered me until I screamed and came.

“Ry—”

Before I finished yelling his name, he brought his face to me.
Pressing his tongue on me, he continued to explore me with his fingers.
It was as if he knew every inch of me and was committing it to memory.

As he buried his face in me, I pushed his head deeper into me.
Every lick, every suck, threw me closer to the edge again.
When his finger moved to my ass and teased the rim, I tried to prepare myself.
It was no use.

I screamed in pleasure as another orgasm rocked me to my core.
He wouldn’t let up.

His tongue dove inside me as his finger entered again.
He ate and licked and sucked until he was out of air.
His mouth, his face, was covered in me.

I pulled his head up and licked his mouth, tasting myself.

I felt free.
It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before.

Sliding my ass closer to the edge of the couch, I needed his fingers to fill me faster.
I quickly shoved his head back down and tightened my legs around his shoulders.
Within seconds, I came harder than the last time, if that was even possible.

Slowly removing his finger from my ass, he lifted himself up and pressed his forehead to mine.

“That was…” He tried to catch his breath.

“Amazing?”
I tried to still my racing heart.

“Yeah.”
His head flopped on the couch beside me as his arm hung heavy across my lap.

“Unbelievable.”

“Yeah.”

“Where did you learn how to do that?”

He laughed as he looked up at me, his eyes still glazed over.
“Oh that?
Just something I picked up along the way.”

I couldn’t focus.
Besides being drunk, I hadn’t yet begun to descend from the orgasmic high I’d just experienced.

“Well,” I began, “you should do that more often.”

“Ditto.”

He slowly rocked back to his heels and reached for his shirt.

“You okay?”

I smiled.
“I’m perfect.”

“Pretty damn close if you ask me.”

“You know, about what happened earlier”—I pulled my tunic over my head—“sorry you had to see that.”

“What?”
He turned to face me as he pulled on his boxer briefs.
It was like the advertisement live and in living color.
I couldn’t stop staring.

“Earth to Caroline.”
He smirked.

“Sorry.
I just, uh, was reminded of something I saw earlier this week.”

“What?”

“Well, if you must know”—I slid into my jeans—“I just so happened to see something on the side of a bus stop when I was in the city.”

He visibly blushed and looked away.
“Oh that.”

“Yeah, that,” I teased.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“When would I have had the opportunity?
Not like there was much talking going on the night we first met.”

“True.”

“And besides, I try not to make it a point of telling everyone I meet.
I mean, I get a hard enough time from the guys.”

“Well, just to let you know, I defended your honor.”
I cocked an eyebrow.

“My honor?”
Confusion spread across his face.

“Yeah, Mel and Sarah weren’t convinced that it was all you in the picture, if you catch my drift.”

His face reddened even more.
“Oh, well.
Yeah.
That’s me.”

“I know.”

“I know you know.”
He pulled me closer and nibbled on my earlobes.
I’d always heard about people having “a spot” but I’d never been able to find mine.
I knew then that I could very likely have another orgasm if he continued to bite and suck on my earlobes.

“I’m glad you know.”

“Care, I think you and I are going to be great friends.”

The world screeched to a halt.
I mean, I knew I didn’t want a relationship.
If I was being logical, I wasn’t in any shape to have one.
But come on!
This was probably not the best time for him to point out what great friends we’ll be.
So I took it a step further.

“Friends, huh?
With benefits, I take it?”

“Yeah.”
He must’ve seen something in my face.
“Care, you okay?
I’m sorry if I led you to believe something else would go on with us.
I mean, I just moved to the city, I have this cool new job.
It’s just nice to be able to, you know, ground myself with someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”
I wasn’t sure if that was a backhanded compliment.

“Well, yeah.
You’re cool.
You’re pretty.”
He kissed my neck.
“You’re great in the sack.
And, as opposed to many of the other people I’ve met lately, you’re normal.
And I need a little normal once in a while.”

I chewed on a fingernail; something my grandmother always chastised me for.
“Perfect.
Friends is perfect as long as you do
that
”—I pointed to the couch—“more often.”

Friends with benefits.
You know what?
I was more than okay with that and since it was out in the open, a wave of relaxation and acceptance washed over me.

“You got it.
Let’s go back downstairs before we’re missed.”

He grabbed my hand and we made our way back to the others.

Friends with benefits.
Never had one of those before.
Always a first time, right?

Ryan left to use the bathroom and I sat at the table with the others.
They were still in celebration mode.
The kind of celebration you get when you click with people you’ve never met before.
It was perfect.

Brian sat down next to me.
“’Bout to call last call.
You need anything?”

I checked my phone.
I had no idea it was that late.

“Um, no thanks.
I’m good.”

Brian tapped his fingers on the table and bounced his knee until I placed my hand on it, signaling him to stop.

“Anxious much?”

“So, you and Ryan—”

“Are just friends.”

“With benefits.”
It wasn’t a question.

“I guess you could say that.”

“That’s too bad.”
He threw his towel on the table and got up to make his rounds among those at the table.
It was last call after all.

T
he next morning I was thanking the weekend gods it was Saturday as I sat at the kitchen counter reading Michael’s manuscript, drinking a cup of coffee.
I had just finished writing a page full of notes on my computer when Sarah walked through the front door.

“Holy hell!
You look like shit!”
I rushed over to help her with her coat.
I pulled my face away.
“Jesus, you stink!”

“I honestly don’t think I’m sober yet.
I haven’t had a night like that in years.
I might be too old to drink like that.”
She backed up against the door and leaned her head back.

Kicking off her shoes, she toed on the slippers she kept by the door, shuffling over to the wall and clicking off the light switch.

Her eyes were swollen, with dark circles from a long night of partying, and she reeked of a mixture of sweat, booze, and sex.

“You got laid!”
I jumped back and pointed at her accusingly.

“Please don’t shout.
I feel like I have a mini construction crew drilling for oil in my head.”

“How was it?”

“How was what?”
She covered her eyes with her hand and navigated slowly to the couch, where she proceeded to lay down and pull a throw pillow over her face.

“Getting laid?”

“You talk as though you never have.”

“Oh, shut up.
Not my fault you drank until your body called for a time-out.”

“How the hell aren’t you hung over?
Didn’t you drink as much as I did?”

“I was drunk, sure.
But I sobered up.”

I remembered the exact time I sobered up.

Friends.

With benefits.

Too bad.

I walked to the kitchen and grabbed a sports drink from the fridge and a couple of aspirin from the cabinet.

“Here.
Take these.”

Sarah peeked out from under the pillow before sitting up and dutifully taking the medicine.

“Thank you,” she said as she handed the bottle back to me.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

I pulled her up and she crashed into me.
I pulled my face away and crinkled my nose.

“But first, you need a shower.
Did you at least have fun?”

“Yeah.
Drew is great.
Drew the awesome screw!”
She giggled before burping up whatever greasy after-hours diner food she must have consumed.

“And I think we’ll brush your teeth, too.”

I turned on the water in the shower while Sarah sat naked on the toilet picking her toenails.
Putting toothpaste on her toothbrush, I handed it to her and steered her into the shower, closing the curtain and taking her place on the lid of the toilet.

“Oh my God!
The water feels so awesome!”

“That’s right.
Scrub, scrub, scrub.
Brush, brush, brush.”

“So, you and Ryan disappeared last night for a bit.
Where did you go?”

“Upstairs.
He lives above the bar, Brian’s place.”

“Oh, right.
Brian was none too happy when he saw you two were gone.”

“Why would he care?”
I held up my close-up mirror and cringed at the blackhead forming next to my nose.

“You really are clueless sometimes.
Brian really likes you.
But, I mean, Ryan’s great, too.
Maybe you guys will go somewhere with all this.”

I snorted.
“Not likely.”

“Why do you say that?
Hey, do we have any more of that lavender body wash?”

I reached under the cabinet to retrieve the extra bottle.
“Oh, no reason.
I mean, other than Ryan told me we’d be great friends.
After
, of course, I sucked his dick and he went down on me.
We’ll be great friends with benefits.”

“Friends with benefits, huh?”

“That’s what he said.”

“That’s bullshit.
Why can’t people call it what it is?
I need another razor.
This one’s too dull.”

Again I ventured under the cabinet to grab a fresh razor.
She handed me the dull one as I gave her the new one.
I dropped the old one in the garbage.

I began making faces at myself in the mirror over the vanity.
Opening and closing my mouth so that I looked like a freak.
Squinting, stretching my face back, checking for nose hairs.

“I think I am getting wrinkles.
And what do you mean, ‘call it what it is’?”
I yelled to her as I peered closer into the reflection.
Sure enough, when I moved my mouth a certain way, wrinkles appeared near my eyes.
Opening my tube of eye cream, I found I was out.
I definitely needed to make a trip to Sephora.

“You are not getting wrinkles!
And I mean, look at it this way.
You and I are friends, right?”

“Yeah.”
Ugh.
More wrinkles.
This time encroaching on my forehead.

“Well, you do stuff for me and I do stuff for you, right?
I mean stuff that benefits each of us.”

“Yeah, so?”
Ohmygod!
I raked through the hair at my temple.
Was that a gray hair?

“Well, wouldn’t that make
us
friends with benefits?
I mean, you make dinner, I do the dishes.
You vacuum, I dust.
I come home with a wicked hangover—feeling a little better by the way—and you take care of me.
So, by definition, you and I are friends with benefits.”

“Huh.”
I’d never thought of it that way.
I guess she was right.

“So, I think you should call what is going on between you and Ryan what it actually is.”

Not a gray hair.
Blond highlight.
Thank God.
“Which is?”

“Friends who fuck.”

“Friends who fuck?”

“Yeah.
Do you go bowling together?
No.
Do you do your taxes together?
No.
What do you do?
You fuck.
You are friends who fuck.”
She punctuated the last word by turning off the water and reaching toward the towel rack for a towel.

Stepping out of the shower, she looked at me.
Her eyes were more open than they had been when she first came home but they were still bloodshot.
She looked tired but not gross.
And she smelled better.
“Am I right?”

“I guess you are.”
I plopped back down on the toilet and put the mirror away.
I’d done enough scrutinizing of my old lady wrinkles for one day.
“So I should call it what it is.
But friends who fuck sounds so—”

“Vile?
Degrading?
Pornographic?”
She giggled as she dried herself off and wrapped another towel around her head.

“For lack of better adjectives, yeah.”

“Then call it something you’re comfortable with.
Friends who bang.
Friends who do it.
Friends who have sex.
Whatever.
But, from what you told me, there is no better verb for what you two do than fuck.”

“Yeah.”
I handed her the deodorant.
“You aren’t wrong.”

“Thanks.”
She smeared the clear gel under her arms.
“Well, then.
Just own it.
Know what it is.
Embrace it.
You’re not a little kid anymore.
You’re a grown-ass woman and if you want to have a relationship based on nothing more than meaningless sex, then do so.
I’m sure it’s loads better than Steven’s fabled missionary position.”
Sarah pumped lotion into her hands and smoothed it over her arms and legs.
I handed her the face lotion after she used the towel to remove the remnants of the body lotion from her hands.

She was right.
Steven and I rarely ever had sex that wasn’t missionary.
Him on top, me on the bottom.
Him dominant, me submissive.
I shuddered.

Anything was better than that.
No wonder I’d gone through so many batteries in the past five years.

“So”—I took the lotion she handed me and placed it back in the vanity—“what are you doing the rest of the day?”

“What time is it?”
She stood towel-drying her hair, the rest of her dripping onto the bath mat.

“I’m not sure.
Almost eleven?”
Walking out into the hallway, I tried to peek around the corner and catch the time on the clock in the kitchen.

“Doesn’t really matter.
I’m going to bed.
Not going out tonight.
You?”
Sarah started toward her bedroom.

“Nope.”

“So we’ll order in Chinese and watch a movie?”

“I can do that if you don’t mind me reviewing a manuscript while we eat and watch.”

“Fine with me.
What are you doing now?”

“I’ll probably try to hit that yoga class that starts at noon.
Then I need to run out and pick up some things.
Need anything?”

“Maybe a bottle of wine?
White.
Sweet.”

“You got it.”
I threw my wallet into my gym bag, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and headed out the door.