by CORY CYR
“With your face flushed like that, it makes me want to smother you in whip cream and lick every inch of your body and then some.” He smiles lazily.
He pushes his chair close to mine and proceeds to dip his finger in leftover whipped cream. He touches his finger to my lips and traces them, making sure the cream covers them. I feel exhilarated. He tilts his head and kisses me. His tongue slides over my lips as he takes tiny licks of the whipped cream.
“Maybe we should take our remaining breakfast to bed. I want to be inside of you right now.” His voice is deep, smoldering.
I look at him. Every single nerve in my body is twitching. I want him. I too want to feel him embedded deep within me, but last night’s marathon has left me sore. I squirm in my chair. My thoughts go right to the age difference and my inexperience. I look at him with regret written across my face. Latch takes his hand and runs it up and down my arm, sensing my disappointment.
“Baby, the one thing you should know by now is that I can make you come without putting my cock inside of you.”
He stands, takes our plates, rinses them off and puts them in the dishwasher. I come up behind him.
“I’m sorry . . . it’s not that I don’t want to. There’s nothing on earth I’d rather do right now than be intimate with you. It’s just that after last night, I’m a little sore. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy being sore because it’s a reminder of having you inside me and how wonderful it feels.”
He turns and hugs me as he kisses me on the top of my head.
“No worries, leannán. I can think of hundreds of ways to get you off without fucking you,” he reassures me with a grin.
He wraps his arms around me tightly. In my bare feet, Latch towers over me and my head fits snuggly under his chin.
“Damn, you’re tiny,” he comments, snickering and squeezing me tighter.
I’ve never been called tiny, small or little. I’ve always felt bigger than I should be, especially in the last seven years.
I pull away from him. “Five foot six is not short, but then you already know that, since you’ve had full access to my driver’s license.” I glare at him, pretending to be angry.
“Now that was due to extenuating circumstances, and I swear on my mother it will never happen again. Your purse is off limits.” He takes his hand and crosses his heart, and the sweet gesture makes me smile.
“Doesn’t matter now, you already know all of my secrets,” I remind him.
“Not all of them,” he murmurs.
A loud knock startles us back to reality. I stay in the kitchen as Latch goes to answer the door. I hear voices and a few minutes later Latch reappears with a large floral bag. I recognize it right away as my overnight bag. He hands it to me, smiling.
“You said you couldn’t stay unless you had stuff. Well, you have your stuff, so no more excuses, leannán.” He looks triumphant as he settles on the sofa.
I greedily hold onto the bag as if it’s a lifeline. I take off up the stairs and head for the bathroom. It’s almost comical how I’m so excited to brush my teeth. I dump the contents of the bag on the floor in the bathroom. There’s lotion, soap, make-up, deodorant, perfume and, thankfully, my beloved toothbrush. Weezie even remembered contact solution and my glasses. There are also panties, a sports bra, shorts, several tops and pants along with a pair of flip-flops—and a tube of KY. I almost choke. Weezie thinks she’s so damn funny.
The first thing I do is brush my teeth, three times in fact. I don’t even care if I strip the enamel off by over brushing. I just want them clean. Then I remove my contacts, placing them in the tray with solution. I wash my face, run lotion up and down my legs, put on deodorant and spray a touch of perfume. I put on mascara lightly over my lashes, powder on some bronzer and dab my lips with gloss. I grab a much appreciated pair of panties along with the sports bra, tug them on, and decide to wear the shorts with the matching shirt. I brush my hair and pull it back into a very high ponytail. Then I throw on my glasses.
I take a peek at my reflection in the mirror. Not bad for thirty-seven. I think sex has put a spark into my body and it shows on my face. It’s been so long since I have truly felt at ease, comfortable, satisfied and happy. Latch has made this happen; he’s the reason I feel like this. I’m glowing because of him. I’m spending the weekend with him.
The truth is . . . I like him. Now I’m afraid because I’m not supposed to care about him. It’s meant to be just sex, nothing more.
As I toss my things back into the bag, I realize the one thing Weezie has forgotten is dental floss. I’m sure Latch has some somewhere in here. I look in the drawers, but I can’t find any. I finally open the large medicine cabinet above the sink. There’s floss right next to a huge bottle of mouthwash and I grab both. I notice quite a few prescription bottles that are sitting behind the mouthwash. Women’s curiosity overcomes me and I pick up one of the bottles. It’s OxyContin and Latch’s name is on the prescription sticker. The other bottles also have Latch’s name on them.
I know how potent and addicting this drug is. I’ve read about it in the newspaper, and they are always doing stories about it on the news. I look at the bottle in my hand and note that the date is recent. If Latch is in pain, the kind that requires strong medication like this, then he isn’t letting on. I wonder what kind of pain he must be in to warrant these pills, and how it happened. I’m not only curious but also generally concerned. I don’t know him well enough to ask him and it feels wrong to snoop. I make sure the mouthwash sits in front the way I had found it.
There’s a soft tap on the door. I open it and watch him as he leans in. He squints when he sees my glasses.
“So, naughty librarian, feel like a walk on the beach?” he asks affectionately.
“Absolutely, just let me finish up in here and make a quick call to check in with Weezie. By the way, how’d you manage all this?” I ask as I shove my things back into my bag.
I’d really like to know because I’m sure he’s been here the whole time with me. I have no idea how he managed to get my things from Weezie.
“You left your phone on the coffee table. I got up when you fell asleep and sent your roomy a text explaining my dilemma, and then I asked her if she wouldn’t mind packing you enough things for the weekend. I had my driver go over and pick up your bag. I know how frantic you were about your toothbrush. And by the way, the glasses are sexy as hell!” He laughs.
He turns and walks back downstairs. I notice my phone on the night table and I grab it. I go back into the bathroom and close the door.
“Hey, Weeze,” I say into the phone.
“Wow, he actually let you make a phone call? I thought you’d be legs up all weekend.” Weezie laughs into the phone.
“Ha, ha . . . by the way, thanks for the KY—you're hilarious.”
“Well, sweetie, it has been seven years and you are kind of old, so I’m just trying to be a good friend and I thought you might need it.” I can hear her trying to stifle a laugh.
“Dry spell has been broken.” I shift my body, feeling the ache in my core.
“Well, spill for God’s sake! Can the man fuck?” Weezie asks excitedly.
I cringe. “Good grief, Weezie, blunt much? Google him like I did and all your questions will be answered,” I reply curtly.
“Oh come on . . . give your BFF a tidbit, a nibble, a crumb,” she begs.
I smile, wishing I could tell her all the details of how wicked the man truly is.
“Two words—three times.”
There’s silence, then Weezie audibly inhales and lets out a whistle. “He fucked you three times—I should have sent a bigger tube of KY.” She groans loudly.
“You’re unbelievable. See you tomorrow night.”
“I can’t wait! I want all the blow-by-blow details, no pun intended. By the way, he does sound hot in his texts,” she comments.
I lower my voice in case he’s listening. “You can’t imagine how nice he is.”
I close my phone. L
atch is sitting on the edge of the bed when I come out of the bathroom. He’s changed into blue board shorts, the color against his darkly bronzed skin makes him look mouthwatering and his eyes now reflect a deep crystal blue color. He stands up and my knees go weak. No shirt, no shoes, unruly locks curling every which way around his gorgeous face, sexy facial hair, tattoos, and a ripped body makes me want to go to church and thank God for creating this man. His eyes rise toward mine as he inspects me from the ground up. He licks his lips as his eyes fixate on my breasts.
“You look good enough to eat,” he teases.
I take his hand, pulling him up off the bed. “Well, we just had breakfast, and I believe you promised me a walk.”
“I believe I promised you quite a few things.” His eyebrows wiggle up and down. I smack him on his tight butt as I push him towards the door.
Chapter Sixteen
The only sounds outside are the ocean waves and sea gulls. The day is drenched in warmth and sea air. We stroll hand in hand to the edge of the shore, where I kick off my flip-flops and submerge my feet in the water. This strip of beach appears deserted—there is no one in sight. Latch moves behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and his body feels warm and strong. We stand there in absolute silence as the wave's crash in and rush out. He turns me towards him, pulling my body to his and resting his head lightly on top of mine.
He pulls back and meets my eyes, and with a slight jerk of his head and a smile tugging at his lips, we lazily walk to dry sand and he sits down, pulling me with him. I’m sitting between his legs and his arms wrap around me in warm embrace. He dips his head forward and rests his cheek against mine. Then he clears his throat.
“There are things I need to explain to you.”
He drops one of his arms from the secure band he has around me and threads his fingers through his hair. I can hear the hesitation in his voice but I don’t turn around. I just keep facing forward because I know where this conversation is going. I shake my head.
“It’s all right, Latch. We don’t need to rehash the past.”
“The past . . . Jesus, it’s only been a few weeks. I need to be up front with you. Haven, look at me. I really like you a lot, and I want to see where this goes.” His hand nudges my face in his direction. “We can’t move ahead if I don’t address my behavior. I want to get everything out in the open. I want us to be honest, and I want us to be together. I was such an asshole to you that day. I can’t believe you even talked to me again after I hurt you like that, and I’m so sorry. I want to tell you everything. I can never take back how I made you feel, but I want us to be able to move past it.” There’s sincerity in his voice and I squeeze his hand with assurance.
“Honestly, all is forgiven. We don’t really have to outline our mistakes, do we? I’m appalled that I even showed up at your office, let alone acted the way I did.” I am blushing profusely and I look away from him. “I just need you to know that my actions that day were completely out of character for me. I made an irrational decision without any real thought behind it, it was very immature and stupid on my part, and I wish it never happened.” I take a deep breath and plunge into the heart of the matter. “If only I’d been better, more experienced. The entire event was my fault. It was humiliating as well as embarrassing. Honestly, I didn’t know what I was thinking.”
Latch tightens his grip on me—it’s almost too tight. His face is full of disbelief.
“You blame yourself . . . you truly believe I didn’t like what you did?” His voice is tense. He lightens his grip on me as his lips brush my ear. “Oh, leannán, I didn’t just like it—I loved it. Fuck . . . are you kidding me? A beautiful woman shows up at my office and gets me off with her deliciously sensual mouth. I get hard just thinking about that day.” His earthy whisper sends goose bumps prickling up and down both arms.
All of a sudden, I’m no longer sore. I ache to be filled.
“I need you to know everything. Let’s just say that Wikipedia doesn’t know about certain quirks I have. I pay a hefty amount to uphold my privacy.”
And now I’m roused by my curiosity and a healthy dose of trepidation. This man is in the process of baring his soul and I am scared to hear what the truth really is.
“I’m trying to think about how to say all this so it doesn’t sound so bad. Well, maybe ‘bad’ isn’t the right word. ‘Odd’ would better qualify for what I have to tell you.” He looks away, his body rigid with tension.
“Latch, just spit it out,” I say, trying not to anticipate the worse.
“I’ve been with lots of women and I’ve had countless blow—puff chores.” He grins.
Does he honestly think using my word is going to make me feel better? My body feels tight like a bow.
“Latch, I know about all the women, remember? I googled you. No offense, but you’re referred to as a manwhore,” I reply flatly.
I’m not sure I want or need details. I feel very nervous as well as tense.
“How the fuck do I explain this without sounding like a total tool? Yes, I’ve been with lots of women, but I put restraints on certain acts.” Now he looks uncomfortable and I swear a little flustered. “I never allow myself to finish when I get a blowjob . . . without a condom.” Clearly, he’s frustrated as well as irritated.
“Bullshit.” My hand flies up to my mouth. I can’t believe I just said that. My prim and proper filter goes AWOL on me without sexual interference and that’s the first word that rushes out? What’s next?
“I knew this talk would be tough. I’m trying to tell you why I was such a prick that day in my office. Since the very first night I was with you, everything I’ve done is out of the norm. I’m not an oral sex guy. I don’t do flowers or panties. And I sure as hell have never had to resort to phone sex. I’ve never chased a woman in my life; I’ve never had too. But when I was in your mouth, watching you with your eyes closed, hearing soft noises coming from your throat, taking all of me in so greedily, I lost it literally. Why do you think I maimed my desk? Coming in your mouth felt natural, like it was meant to be. I’m the moth and you are the flame. I’m so drawn to you that I can’t think straight. I got angry because I lost control, which is not my nature. I took it out on you, and that’s my biggest regret. I never prepared for this. I never prepared for you.”
I lean into him. My heart is racing. I don’t know if I should be astounded or relieved by his confession.
“You’re the first woman I’ve gone down on since I was fifteen and I actually enjoyed it. Do you understand? I’m trusting you with my secrets. If any of this ever gets out, my entire sex god image will be annihilated.” He shrugs it off with a slight laugh.
“I’m not sure I understand. Don’t you have a reputation to uphold? How is this possible when you’ve had so many women for, what, ten years now? And you appear well-versed for never doing that before.” I tell him, still somewhat doubtful.
“Well, I could give Google, or even books, the props, but the truth is porn.” He flashes a crooked smile.
I laugh. No one has ever performed oral sex on me before, so I have no standards, but maybe I need to start watching porn to educate myself. Weezie will be so proud.
“Let me rephrase what I originally said, Haven. You’re the only woman I will ever be doing that with.” He looks into my eyes intently, rubbing the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip.
I have so many emotions running through me right now. It must have taken a lot of courage for him to confess to me that he had basically been on virgin territory when he had me the first night. Latch had confided in me with information he hasn’t shared with anyone else. He trusts me. I feel slightly overwhelmed that out of all the women he has been with, I’m the one who has taken him to a sexual height he has never been. We both have experienced new pleasures together.
Latch pulls me in for a raw and needy kiss. The only thing I can think of right at this moment is Latch taking me right here, right now, on the beach. I want him inside me, making me beg for rele
ase. I want him to tease every inch of my flesh. He pulls away from our kiss, leaving my lips swollen. His breathing is ragged, and then my eyes are drawn to his shorts, I see he’s aroused. He trails his finger across the waistband of my shorts, his finger flickering across the exposed part of my stomach. I look up into his eyes, beautiful green-blue orbs with flecks of gray radiating heat and desire.
He gently lays me on my back. His hand tucks under my waistband and I inhale deeply as his fingers gently knead my sensitive flesh through my panties. My entire body quickens and I gasp as my hands weave through his hair. Latch’s hand traces the side of my panties and then he pulls them to one side to slip a finger into the slick heat of my drenched folds. A small sob escapes my lips as I close my eyes and pray that he won’t stop.
“Leannán, look at me.” His tone is soft yet demanding; it startles me and I open my eyes. His face shows mesmerizing intensity.
His finger drifts across my wet slit. He pauses a few moments, and then pushes in two fingers, causing me to buck off the sand. I’m so wet I can hear the sound of his fingers slipping in and out of me, and it causes me to moan louder.
“Don’t come, not yet . . . I want to watch you,” he whispers as he continues to push me closer to release with his fingers.
He pinches my clit with two fingers, rubbing the bud back and forth. I want nothing more than to close my eyes and relish in this feeling, but watching him is acutely erotic. I also have to touch him. I need to feel him. I reach up and my hand lingers on his bare chest. I move my other hand down to his bulging erection and stroke him firmly through his shorts. He hisses as he shakes his head.
“Right here, right now, is about you. You have no idea how fucking turned on I am right now, just knowing that I’m the man who’s going to make you cry out when you come. These are my fingers, my mouth and my cock that puts that look on your face and makes you say my name.” His face is flushed and glowing with a light sheen of perspiration.
