Let It Roll

by Sophie Kent

  The jolt this sent thorough her, having his mouth so hot on the back of her neck, his hands now pinching her tender nipples, and how full and thoroughly run through she felt, it set her flesh on fire again and took her breath away.

  “Oh God, ” she panted, pushing back against him, smooshing herself all the more against him. She came so hard her knees shook, and her hands clawed wildly at the counter top, grasping desperately at the edge. Yet Kevin kept going, not letting up a bit, endlessly rocking in and out of her, his hands roaming maddeningly about her body. Over her shoulders, down her back, around to her belly, and on down to tease her into moans so feral, so wanton, she felt her cheeks burn with shame. Susan came over and over and over.

  ###

  When Kevin finally carried Susan back to the bedroom from the kitchen, she was curled up, naked in his arms, exhausted. He lay her gently on the bed, climbed in beside her and pulled the sheet over them. She rolled over, wrapping her arms about his torso, burying her face in his chest, her breathing light and hot on his flesh as she fell fast asleep.

  Kevin was exhausted too. And though he wanted to keep watch over her as she slept, he drifted off to the sound of her breathing and the feel of her soft, warm, naked body pressed against him.

  Yet Kevin’s sleep was not peaceful, not by a long shot. He dreamed of walking up the front steps of Saint Ann’s Cathedral. There were flowers and ribbons and balloons fastened everywhere. And the music for The Wedding March was just winding up.

  Kevin felt a desperate stab of fear. He raced up the steps to the church and pulled the front doors open. His eyes couldn’t seem to adjust, and he stumbled into the sanctuary, the soles of his shoes scratching and clomping against the tile floor. He felt himself bump his shins on a pew.

  Finally his vision started to came back, and he saw the packed church, the wedding party up front, and the bride and groom, front and center. Susan looked amazing, like a shining goddess, the light from a side window radiating down on her, making her look all the more angelic.

  Kevin’s attention shifted to the groom. She couldn’t marry Mark!

  As his sights honed in on the groom, he was struck to the core by what he saw.

  Someone new. Tall, handsome, blond hair that matched Susan’s own. And he was looking at her with as much love as she was looking at him with.

  Kevin couldn’t breathe. He wanted to call out, yell that it was he that loved her, that he’d always loved her, and always would. But he fell to his knees, unable to take in a single breath, not one of the wedding guests noticing, not even the bride. His Susan.

  The last thing he heard was the priest ask, “Do you take this man...”

  And Susan’s voice answering, “I do.”

  Kevin woke with a start, gasping for air, covered in sweat. He had rolled to the other side of the bed by then, so Susan luckily remained asleep. Kevin left the bed and walked swiftly from the room, putting back on his discarded shorts. He moved through the main part of the suite, and out the French doors and to the beach. There he dropped to sit in the sand and held his head in his hands, his head splitting.

  He couldn’t live with that...

  So what could he do?

  Kevin looked out at the dark surf, at the roiling waves, and listened for the answer.

  What he had to, he thought, and felt his shoulders stiffen. He’d give her what she needed, until Liz came, and then he’d leave, lick his wounds, and go on with life like it never happened.

  Oh yeah, that’ll work, the voice in his head said sarcastically.

  Chapter 8

  AT SOME POINT, Kevin stumbled back to the room, and back to bed. Susan rolled over and wrapped her arm possessively around his torso, snuggling into his chest. He closed his eyes and let himself disappear in that wonderful, warm comfort.

  When he woke, the room was aglow with morning light, and Susan was straddling him, her hands stroking his chest, as her sex ground against his hardening manhood. He was about to tell her they should go eat something, but Susan reached back and guided him into her, warm and soft and so wet, and it was all he could do not to howl with joy.

  She let her breasts fall down against him, and kissed him, slow, light kisses that were the teasing, feathery opposite of what she was doing with her hips. Her hips churned and rolled, and somehow she was pushing him to the edge already.

  He wasn’t about to be outdone. Pistoning his hips up into her, he threw off her rhythm, and flicked her nipples. He felt her tighten around him, so he knew he was on the right track. He kissed her, his kiss wet and deep, and ravenous. As he rocked into her, ever so slowly, he squeezed and pinched her rear, while his other hand went down the front and he stroked his fingers in and out of her, constantly moving them to rub the sensitive folds of her labia, to worry the quivering lips of her sex, and to caress her long ignored clitoris.

  Her arms clutch around him, and she bit his shoulder. “Oh...my...Christ...” she moaned as she came, trembling beside him, her breasts hot against his chest, heaving against him as she tightened and convulsed around him, pushing him right over the edge with her.

  After a few, divine moments with her wrapped up in his arms, gently kissing him for what seemed like hours, Susan pressed him onto the mattress as she pushed up off his chest, dislodging him from inside her. He gasped and rolled over on his side to better watch her as she ambled like a besotted drunk into the bathroom.

  The shower hissed to life, and Kevin thought about poor, naked Susan, all alone in the shower. But for the first time in two days, he was too exhausted, too sated, to do anything about it.

  ###

  Susan leaned back into the hot spray of the shower, the tidal force of it drenching her immediately. God, did she feel good. No, she felt great. Truthfully, she couldn’t remember feeling this wonderful ever.

  She used the tropical shampoo and conditioner again, and the lovely body wash. Amazing how different, how exquisitely new a scent could make you feel.

  But she knew it was more than the tropical toiletries. It was Kevin. Having her Kevin there with her, taking care of her, and having his body--his hands alone were sent from God--right there, giving more than just comfort, but bringing her back from the black pit she’d fallen into.

  Every time the wind blew and the building creaked in the slightest, Susan felt a thrill, looking to the shower door, expecting--no, wanting--Kevin to come in and join her. She felt lonely, and hungry for him.

  She wrapped a towel around her and tiptoed into the bedroom. Her bed was empty. It had fresh sheets on it.

  Housekeeping was too good here...they took the man with the bed linen!

  Kevin sauntered into the room, hair still wet from the shower, clean clothes covering up all his lovely muscles and skin. Susan reached out and pulled at his polo shirt. “I like you better without this.”

  He backed away, holding his hands out in surrender. “Get dressed. We’ve gotta eat something before we die of malnutrition.”

  “But I’m dying from neglect,” Susan said, pouting. “And I have all kinds of ideas for what to do with our morning.” She pulled the towel from around her and let it fall to the carpet. Kevin’s eyes went dark and his mouth went slack. “We can order room service.”

  Susan moved toward him, feeling her damp skin heat up with each step. She was standing so close she could practically taste him. She looked up into his handsome face, into his hooded, heat-filled eyes, and stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

  Suddenly the hotel suite was filled with the sound of Liz’s voice.

  “Mommy’s home!”

  Chapter 9

  SUSAN AND KEVIN BACKED away from each other, both gulping, both looking guilty as hell, Kevin rubbing the back of his neck like mad, Susan desperately throwing on one of the hotel robes.

  They stood there for a beat, staring at each other. So, what now? Susan thought.

  “Where the hell is everybody?” Liz’s voice boomed as she rounded the corner and charged into the room. She stopped and gave Susa
n a long, appraising look, her eyebrows knitting with concentration. “You look good...”

  She stepped around the room, inspecting, searching already for clues. Thank God for housekeeping! Susan decided she would leave them a huge tip.

  Finally Liz looked at Susan again. “Too damn good. You should get dumped at the altar more often.”

  “It wasn’t the altar,” Susan said, rolling her eyes.

  Liz smiled and moved forward, giving Susan a huge hug. “I know, sweetie. I was there, remember?” Liz pulled back and gave Susan a mock look of concern. “You do remember, right? I’m Liz, your best friend and personal savior, and this…” She looked over at Kevin. He leaned against the wall, the heat all but gone from his eyes, just watching the two of them babble. “This is your own personal stalker.”

  Kevin gave her the evil eye.

  “But thank God for stalkers!” Liz wafted over and gave Kevin a big hug. Then she returned and gave Susan another once over. “Let’s get you dressed. I’m famished, and I need a fucking drink before my head explodes. I am so jet lagged!”

  “Really?” Susan looked at her curiously. “How long was your flight?”

  Liz shook her head, her smile beautiful yet placating. “Enough aeronautical questions. I need a ham sandwich and a Cosmo...now!”

  Kevin ducked out the door, and Susan went to the closet to grab something much less comfortable to wear. When she turned back around, Liz was gone.

  ###

  Liz had entered the bedroom, automatically taking the place over like the troops at Normandy. Kevin couldn’t decide if he was miffed or relieved. He wouldn’t get to make Susan cry out his name anymore. That was over. Soon enough things would be back to normal.

  But he wouldn’t get to make her cry out his name.

  He wouldn’t get to make love to her, to make her come against him.

  And yet, he did feel some relief. That part is over. He could leave, go off somewhere and lick his wounds, forget that he’d ever had Susan that way. Things would be like they were before.

  When they were old, they could look back on their little trip through paradise and smile. “What were we thinking?” she’d say. And he’d say they were crazy, but be thinking it had been everything he’d ever wanted, just very brief.

  Years of wanting, satisfied in two amazing days of sex. And now, how many years would he spend wishing he could go back and relive those two days?

  That’s when Liz called him Susan’s “own personal stalker.”

  He had given her the look of death. The bitch was back! He wasn’t surprised she’d hit him low right off the bat. At least that would never change. And then she’d said, “Thank God for stalkers!” and had thrown her arms around him. She’d whispered, “I’ll owe you for fucking ever, won’t I?”

  Kevin had smiled and nodded his head, unable to speak, the shit shocked out of him. And the thought of what he’d done--giving Susan what she’d needed, and tasting what he knew he’d lose--not for Liz, but for Susan. It took all his strength not to walk out of the room and bolt for the airport right then.

  He had to leave. He stared out the window as Liz went back to babbling at Susan. He tried not to notice Susan stealing glances at him. It is over. He’d told himself, promised himself, that all he had to do was stay until Liz was there.

  Liz was there. Now he could go. He needed to go. He wanted to go. Yet, he never wanted to leave Susan’s side again.

  How pathetic. How fucking pathetic, would be how Liz would put it.

  Liz said she was hungry and told Susan to get dressed. Kevin turned, walked down the hall, and threw his things in his duffle bag--he’d picked up so much clothing that it almost didn’t fit. He placed it by the inside of the door, and waited for Susan and Liz in the front room. He called the front desk and asked them to book him a flight out in two hours.

  He would join them for lunch, and wait until they started seriously catching up, and he’d grab a cab and head off for the airport.

  It was the only thing he could do.

  ###

  What the hell was up with those two? Liz sat across from them at the restaurant. They both looked stricken as she talked to them. Susan had appeared fine in the room, but now she had a red face and a sour expression, like she was going to barf. And Kevin’s mouth was so tightly pressed together, his lips had disappeared.

  She’d told him he’d be dying to get away from Susan after a couple days. All that moaning and rampaging about another man would make him suicidal. Looking at Kevin, at his drawn expression and the stiff way he was sitting, it appeared she’d been right.

  She felt sorry for him, the poor shmuck. Maybe she’d throw him a roll in the sack before he ran off to spend the rest of his days boarded up in a monastery. He was hot as hell, and she hadn’t been fucked properly in almost three weeks. With all the maid of honor crap, and the gallery, and her mission to Aspen to relocate Mark’s balls to his throat, she hadn’t had time enough for a bikini wax, much less to hook up for a real fuck date.

  But she could make an exception. He’d be easy to seduce. All that pent up sexual energy, with no outlet, and she had years of experience making men beg to sleep with her. It would be for a good cause. He’d been there for Susan, and for Liz. He wasn’t nearly the asshole she’d pegged him for in college.

  Seven years, and he hadn’t made a move on Susan yet. Liz thought about that. Maybe he was gay? She shook her head at the thought. Either way, he was a good guy, and Susan was a fool for not seeing he was a catch.

  Liz gave herself a mental head slap. It was Kevin! Kevin Jacobs. She had hated him since the moment she’d laid eyes on him. Oh well, she’d hated Picasso when she first saw his work, yet she’d bought her apartment last year with her commission from selling one of his smaller works in a silent auction. Things changed.

  Neither Susan nor Kevin did more than move their food around their plates. No wonder they were so tired looking. They’d both been too depressed to eat.

  Liz took a long gulp of her Cosmo, then ordered another. She looked at Kevin and told him, “Time for girl talk. So why don’t you go take a walk on the beach, okay?”

  Kevin looked up, surprised. Obviously he’d been off in his own little world, and as he stood up and walked away, looking like a zombie, Liz was pretty sure he still was.

  ###

  Susan hadn’t heard a word Liz had said since they’d sat down. She was trying to keep from crawling onto Kevin’s lap and making a complete spectacle of herself. It would feel so good to be pressed against him, but Liz would go ballistic. She might even try to disembowel Kevin with her salad fork. But she wanted the taste of him on her tongue, not the syrup from the French toast she’d ordered and had yet to touch.

  She needed to break it to Liz quietly, gently, and preferably while she was comatose from knock-out drops, or chained to a wall. Susan wondered if the concierge could get her some chains, and some horse tranquilizers.

  She jumped when Liz told Kevin to go take a walk. As he stood, it took every ounce of restraint for her not to grab him and pull him back down in the chair. She didn’t want him going anywhere. As he walked away, not even turning to look back, Susan felt a deep pang of despair. Why didn’t he look back?

  Liz was snapping her fingers in her face. “Hey, coma girl, what’s up with the blank stare?”

  Susan shook her head and tried to pull her mind from the image of Kevin walking out of the restaurant. That was a bad thing to think about. It made her feel all cold and stiff inside. She concentrated hard on Liz, on what she was saying.

  What the hell was she saying?

  “I understand, sweetie, with the wedding-that-wasn’t, and being stuck on this godforsaken island with Kevin--I’m sure that was a blast!--that you’re all post traumatic stressed out. And I guess sending you on your honeymoon wasn’t the brightest idea I ever had...well, I think that was Kevin’s idea, or maybe we had it at the same time. Whatever. What I’m saying is it’s not your fault you’re all wound in kno
ts still.”

  Susan was trying to keep up, and all she got was the ‘wound in knots part’. Was she wound in knots? She did feel pretty tense. And Liz was picking up on it already. She’d have it all figured out by dinner, and she’d be screaming and throwing things, and Kevin would have a salad fork sticking out of his stomach...that nice, flat stomach. Now that was what all stomachs should look like, and never did.

  Liz was staring at her, her brows knitted in a serious scowl. Susan gulped and waited for Liz to pounce. She couldn’t possibly read her mind, Susan thought. Yet Liz just sat there and stared, her ruby lipstick-ed mouth drawing into a perfect rose bud.

  Don’t make any sudden moves, she can sense fear. And Susan thought of Kevin again. The way he felt against her, on top of her, beneath her, inside her. She thought of him just walking out of the restaurant and felt her whole body turn from hot to cold in the blink of an eye.

  Liz’s eyes turned from hard and questioning to soft and sympathetic. She reached out and took Susan’s hand. “God, you’re a mess.” She caught the eye of a passing waiter, not even their waiter. “Take away her plate and bring her a martini.”

  The waiter looked completely bedazzled as he took in the sleek, polished sight of Liz. He looked down at Susan’s plate. “Was there something wrong with your meal, ma’am?”

  Liz leaned in and speared him straight through with one of her super-mega-watt sex-kitten smiles. “She has man troubles. That calls for alcohol, not bacon.”

  “I’ll have a margarita.” Susan slumped in her chair. Kevin made good margaritas--the best. She zoned out, thinking about how long it would be before she was back in Kevin’s arms again.

  And then she heard Liz say, “We’ll start hunting for Mr. Rebound.”

  “No!” Susan blurted, realizing too late the word came out too fast. Liz would be suspicious. She tried to say something to defuse it, but no other words came to her. All she had left was “no,” and it was ready to shriek from her lips again.