Authors: S Jackson Rivera
“I have a proposition,” he said as he drew her closer to him.
“I’m listening,” she said, still out of breath.
“I only have two of these puppies on me, but one taste and I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s like my first piñata at my seventh birthday party.”
“What?” She giggled at him.
“Carmen bought me a piñata for my party. I’d never had a piñata before, but it was so beautiful, I got mad when they told me we were going to break it. Then she explained how the piñata was full of candy, but I couldn’t see it, so I didn’t know if it was good candy, or bad candy. Like, is it ten-year-old, hard tootsie rolls, the kind the elderly would give out on Halloween when we were kids, or is it full of those little candy bars, the good stuff? I still didn’t want to break it, but my curiosity got the best of me. I had to know what was inside.”
“Like Christmas and presents.”
“Yeah. So there was my beautiful piñata, smashed to smithereens.” He was so serious and thoughtful. “It was the good stuff, and I decided I really liked piñatas, and I never felt bad about breaking them again.”
“What does all this have to do with your proposition?” She was sure the drunk had just carried him off on some unrelated tangent.
His expression said he didn’t know how she’d missed the point.
“Then you come along, and I didn’t want to smash you, but then I did, and now I know, you’re not just the good stuff I’ve liked so much, for years. You’re the freaking king-sized version of all my favorite candy bars, and they’re just lying around on the ground, waiting for me to pick them up, but I’ve been trying not to.”
He looked at her, waiting for her to catch up, but she just stared, not knowing what to say. He must have thought she still didn’t understand because he groaned.
“I’m wishing I had at least a dozen condoms,” he resumed the energetic explanation in overdrive. “So I can pick up more of your candy bars. But since I only have two, and it’s been so long—I’m out of shape.
“I’m not going to last long—like last time—how long did that take? I was trying to hurry because I didn’t want to hurt you, but what was it, like forty-five seconds?”
He snickered as though he’d told a joke. She let out a sigh.
“Stay with me a little longer, I’m almost there. I propose we use the first condom up, fast, like last time. If you’ll let me bump bellies, hard and fast, get it out of my system, it’ll be like rebooting—I need to reboot. Then, we can use the second one to be all about you. I’ll reward you for the gift, I promise.”
A wicked smile spread across his face, making her eyes grow wide with trepidation. His idea intimidated her. Once had pushed her limits.
“Never mind,” he said with disappointment.
He must have noticed her reticence and she didn’t know how to put his mind at ease. Even though the idea unnerved her, she was still willing. He kissed her nose and softly stoked the side of her face with his finger.
“Last time, you know, you just kept saying you wanted to get it
o-ver with
. I was angry—and selfish—and stu-pid. I knew it was all wrong, but not until it was too late—instinct just took over.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m so sorry, it shouldn’t have happened like that.”
“I want to try again.” She leaned into him, wrapped her arms around him, lovingly.
“I’ll be more careful this time, I promise. I’ll go slow—as slow as I can. It shouldn’t hurt. I looked it up. It doesn’t usually hurt after the first time, okay?”
“I trust you.” She nodded, reassuringly.
He looked at her like she’d just slapped him.
“You never learn.” A hard scowl set on his mouth and it took him a few seconds to do anything but stare off at nothing with icy eyes, but then his expression turned gloomy, as if trying to make a hard decision. “You are
so
perfect and beautiful. We should just sleep.”
She sat up on her elbows and glared at him incredulously.
“What?” He rolled onto his back. “I’ve changed my mind. Don’t look at me like that.”
She reached over and set her hand on his bulge, making him jerk at the unexpected contact. She grinned with satisfaction.
“
He
hasn’t changed
his
mind.”
The corners of his mouth twitched, almost breaking into a smile but she could see him trying to prevent it.
“Yeah, well, though
He
has a mind of his own, he doesn’t have a brain. I stopped giving him a vote a
loong
time ago, at least, until the dressing room.” He scowled again and looked off, staring at nothing in particular.
“I can see that you’ve moved on from horny drunk to grumpy drunk. Maybe you
should
get some sleep.”
“Come here.” He pulled her against him, turning her so they could spoon. “Good night.” He kissed her on the cheek, letting his lips linger longer than normal.
“Good night.” She didn’t do a very good job hiding her disappointment at the turn of events, or that he would fall asleep so fast. She’d finally convinced herself that if they did make love again, things would be better between them. Logic knew better, but she loved him madly and love didn’t always follow the rules of logic.
Chapter 21
R
hees couldn’t sleep. She lay in Paul’s arms, listening to, and feeling him breathe against her neck, pondering all that he’d been saying over the past few days. At least now she knew more about what she was up against and felt grateful for his drunken honesty.
He really believed that she only wanted him because he thought she harbored some kind of victim-induced rape fantasy. She didn’t know how he could think she wouldn’t love him anymore if she got better, nor did she understand his definition of
better
. She felt well on her way already and didn’t want to be institutionalized again.
He stirred and nuzzled her neck with his nose as a hand made its way back to her breast.
“Hey,” she said, quietly. He didn’t stop. She didn’t want to wake him, so she let it play out. He’d unintentionally pilfered a few sleepy gropes in the past, he’d stir, brush her here and there while pulling her in closer before slipping back into deep sleep. Over time, she’d stopped sounding the alarm, because waking him up over it just left him feeling remorseful and ashamed over something she’d finally learned he didn’t mean to do.
She’d always had the impression women loved cuddling and men resented it, only tolerating it when necessary, and in small amounts, but Paul always slept best while touching her in some way. She listened for his breathing to deepen again, but it never did.
He kissed her, starting at the back of her neck, and idly worked his way around to the side of her face where he caressed her temple with his lips. His other hand, the one not on her breast, skimmed smoothly down her side. He sighed the second his palm slipped forward and splayed across her stomach, pulling on her, nestling into her a little closer. He let out another contented exhale and paused, holding her that way for a while.
She assumed he’d fallen back to sleep again and closed her own eyes, but his hand started moving again, brushing beneath the waistband of her shorts, into her panties. They both gasped lightly when his fingers began their gentle manipulation. He tugged her to him even tighter, holding her with his arms, pressing himself, hard, against her backside.
“I love you,” he murmured in her ear, so close it tickled.
Being the object of Paul’s intense desire did things to her. She’d wondered over the last few days if he’d ever touch her again.
“Don’t forget to breathe,” he whispered into the same ear before skimming the back of her neck with his warm, soft lips, as his fingers continued playing with her.
His advice was good, and she took a deep breath of the air she’d been missing for the last several seconds, revitalizing her brain cells and stimulating her nerve endings even more, if that were possible. She gave herself over to him, drowning in the lavish attention he offered. He suddenly froze and she almost cried out for him not to stop.
“You’re wet,” he panted.
She couldn’t tell from the way he’d said it, whether it was a good thing, or not. She thought it was supposed to be a good thing, but he still didn’t move. He lay, fixed, as if processing the information, but then, suddenly wide awake, his movements became frenzied, desperately unfastening buttons and zippers, and pushing all the cloth barriers away. She kicked her shorts and panties off when he had them to her ankles, and they were eye to eye, naked.
“I shouldn’t—but I want you so bad. I can’t control my desire for you, my need for you.”
Paul rolled her onto her back and climbed on top of her, finding her lips with his, filling her mouth with his tongue. She encouraged him with her own. The way his fingers stroked her, she didn’t know whether to push against or pull away. She tried both and found the result of each effort . . . rewarding.
He stopped and reached for one of the condoms on the mat above their heads and ripped it open with his teeth. He hesitated, searching her expression for permission.
“I love you,” she breathed out, as best as she could manage, hoping to give it to him.
“I love you, too,” he breathed back as he rolled on the condom and slid back into place, above her. “I love you, Dani Girl.” And then
He
knocked against her door.
She sucked in a breath of air, almost wheezing, when he pushed his way inside. He let out a masculine exhale before holding utterly still, eyes locked on hers. She knew it had to be hard to do—nearly impossible—based on the fact that his whole body was trembling as he held his breath. The look on his face, looking at her . . . she would never forget that look.
“Are you okay?” He held her face between his hands, staring at her so adoringly.
“Yeah,” she whispered, nodding slightly.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, again.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No.”
“Good.” He kissed her and then looked at her again, asking permission, but she thought she’d already given it. “I need to move, Baby.”
“Yeah.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say, nor could she find her voice as it squeaked out. She couldn’t think of anything, except how much she loved him.
Their eyes remained fixed on each other, but she gasped again, not as harshly this time, when he pushed in a little farther. The need in his eyes, she loved being needed by him. She decided at that moment, it had to be the best feeling in the world. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him to her. He took it as his cue and started to move without releasing her from his careful, searching gaze. He kissed her, over and over, all over her face, so tenderly, so lovingly.
It didn’t hurt, really. The tug and pull, the stretching—she hadn’t noticed it the first time—only the burning sensation. She didn’t miss that. This time didn’t burn, and she relaxed, watching him watch her. She didn’t want to miss a single detail. She paid attention to every move he made, ragged breath he took. She felt every twitch of every muscle . . . and then his rocking grew faster, less rhythmic. Sounds panted from his throat, a cross between growling, purring, and crying out for help, like he was in pain, and yet—not.
She recognized this part, remembered how much she had loved this part before. He was almost done.
The strong, self-assured poise that ordinarily radiated from his whole being, disappeared, leaving him exposed, so vulnerable, taking yet giving, so alive and yet, as close to death as possible before crossing that line, for her. It stirred something in her. Her body took on a mind of its own.
She cried out and tightened her grip on him as he buckled, falling against her with an
umph
. She lay, holding him, trembling, wanting more. She felt herself clench again and he raised his head to look at her. A sneaky grin spread slowly across his face.
“Your turn,” he said as he rolled off and sat up. He pulled the condom off and tied it with a knot. She watched curiously as he stuck it in the pocket of his shorts, and then, seeing the bourbon sitting there, he reached for the bottle and took a mouthful.
“Do you really need more?”
“If I want to live with myself,” he said with a smirk, took another drink, holding the amber liquid in his mouth for a few seconds before swallowing with a growl at the burn.
She finally, truly understood why he was so upset about the vodka bottles in her purse.
“Get that look off your face,” he said as he turned back to her, his grin seemed a little too devious for her to feel comfortable. “I
said
it’s
your
turn.” With his wicked smile still in place, he pounced.
oOo
Paul twisted and straddled Rhees, hovering over her, pinning her down on the mat, holding her arms above her head. He licked her face from bottom to top and then smiled at her like he was scheming.
“I don’t like the look you’re giving me,” she said warily.
He didn’t acknowledge her, but instead gave her a loving kiss. He stared at her again for a second before he let the mischievous look return.
“What?” she asked. “Tell me.” She could be so insistent.
“You said you trust me.” His sneaky smile turned to a scowl for a moment. “You shouldn’t, but right now . . . it would be better if I just showed you.”
He kissed her so passionately that he could almost feel her melt. It boosted his ego, as if his ego needed boosting. He proceeded to do his best to kiss every inch of her, working his way down her increasingly tensing body.
“Relax.”
“I’m relaxed.”
“Liar.”
“Okay. I’m nervous.”
“I don’t know what the hell for—if you knew what I have in store for you.”
“But I don’t.” She giggled, or tried to. He reached her belly button and lapped his tongue inside, making her jerk. “Oh! Don’t do that, it’s sensitive.”
He laughed knowingly and made his way farther down. He looked up at her with a devious grin, waited for her to process what would happen next before plunging his head between her legs and kissing the life out of the parts of her that made her female.
She squealed with a jolt and wrenched her body so violently that it almost knocked him over.
“What was that?” He looked up at her, incredulously.
“It tickles.”
“
Nooo
,” he sang. “It
feeels goood
.” He licked again.
She squealed and writhed against him.
“No. It tickles.” She laughed hysterically. “A lot. More than any part of me has ever tickled before.”
He laughed and pinned her hips down with his strong arms and tried again. She screamed, and laughed, and tried to get away, but he wouldn’t let go.
“Shhh! If you keep that up, e-very man, woman and child on the island will come running to see what the commotion is all about. This is
nawt
a spectator sport, Dani Girl.”
“But it tickles—” she took a deep breath, trying to calm down, “—you’re torturing me.”
“I need you to relax for me, Baby. You can do that, right?”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“
Pleeease
?” he begged. “Just ta-ry?”
“Okay. I’ll try.” She took another deep breath and let it out, long and slow.
He kissed her—carefully—softer than before. He looked up to check on her. She lay on her back, looking up at the stars, concentrating.
“How was that?”
“Um . . . better.”
He chuckled and repeated what he’d done before but took his time. He felt her begin to unwind. Little by little, he worked her, enjoyed her . . . the way he’d dreamed of for so, so long.
He didn’t stop until he had her moaning and ready to fall apart, but just before she did, he crawled his way back up her body, reached for the second condom and rolled it on. He used his legs to spread hers apart far enough to put himself where he needed to be, but didn’t push in. The look on her face confused him.
“You didn’t like that?” he asked, worried that he’d just traumatized her or something. “Because . . . I had the impression you liked it.”
“I did. I liked it. I just always thought that was something only perverts did.”
“I am a perr-vert. You didn’t know that? One of the m-many character flaws I’ve been warning you about.”
“Well, I’m a pervert now too then, because I think I’d like to do that again.”
“See?” He frowned. “I told you, I’m dragging you down to hell with me.” He reached for the bottle and took another drink.
“You’re not as bad as you think you are. I’m not as good as you think I am. Why do you think that being together means that you either have to be perfect or that I have to go to hell? Can’t there be something in the middle? A compromise?”
He rubbed his dressed and ready-to-go erection against her. “I want to compromise
you
right now—again.”
He leaned down to kiss her, but she blocked his kiss, a look of horror on her face. It took a second, but he burst into laughter, realizing the problem—she knew where his mouth had been. He grabbed her chin, clenching his teeth as he forced her to look into his amused eyes.
“Don’t worry, you’re even m-more dee-licious than I e-ver ee-magined. I promise.” With that, he smashed his lips against hers and sloppily wet-kissed her until she quit howling for him to stop. Resolved to her fate, she quieted and closed her eyes.
“Why do you enjoy grossing me out?”
“You didn’t think it was ga-ross when your
germs
were only in
my
mouth.” He smirked.
“That was your choice.” She pretended to try and get out of his hold, making him get an even better hold of her. “We should all be able to make our own choices.”
“Does that mean you’re never going to return the favor?” He actually felt the sting of rejection.
It took her a minute to answer. She seemed to be thinking about it, but then her face lit up.
“That sounds like you plan to do more of this in the future?” She arched one of her brows. “If it means you’ll keep me around, and stop talking your stupid talk about me leaving you, and being better off without you, then yes. I promise, I
will
return the favor,
whenever
you want.”
He chose not to respond, but watched her with an evil grin on his face, instead.
“It’s still your turn,” he said.
“Still?”
He chuckled. “Surely you noticed how I left you hanging.”
“I didn’t want you to stop. You did that on purpose? I wasn’t sure.”
“You have so much to learn.”
“Luckily you’re a great teacher.”
He smirked and thrust himself inside of her.
“Mm,” he grunted, and kissed her. “That, beautiful,” he kissed her again, “is the greatest feeling in the whole world! Not just getting inside a woman, but getting inside of
you
. It’s never been as good as this, never in twenty years.”
“You’re just drunk.”
The vacant, self-hatred look, the one she hated even more than the murderous glare, stared back at her.
“I’ve been drunk or high, pretty much since I got my brother killed. I’ve had a million women; sober, drunk, high—I’m telling you, it’s
never
been like this.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
Without warning, he rolled so that he was on the bottom, her on top, without breaking their connection. “Now, you remember how it felt when I made out with your clitoris?”
She didn’t answer, but she blushed, the brightest, reddest color he had ever seen on her. It made him laugh again. “This is not the time to be shy, Baby. I’m all rebooted and ready to go, but I already nearly came again, because
He
was so jealous of my tongue.”
His comment didn’t help to relieve the shock on her face. He didn’t really expect it to.
“Don’t be embarrassed, just move. See if you can make yourself feel the way my tongue made you feel.”
“I can’t!” Her eyes were full of fear or embarrassment.
“You can, and you will, unless you plan to just stay like this forever.”