Left Drowning

by Jessica Park

  “You’re a dope.” I squeeze his arm and touch his perfect chest. “And look who’s talking. You’re a block of muscle.” Then he lets me move my fingers over his face while I take in how extraordinary he is. “These stunning green eyes, and this disgustingly perfect masculine jawline.”

  “Now you’re being a dope.”

  I lean in and rub my nose against his. “And this adorable nose.”

  “Now you’ve lost it.” I can tell he doesn’t like his crooked nose, but he kisses me anyway. “Hey, Blythe?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We’re good, you and me? This doesn’t feel, you know, weird to you, does it?”

  “No, it doesn’t. We’re completely good. I know what this is, and what this isn’t, just like you do.”

  He nods, and we’re quiet for a minute. “Since we’re going to be in this hotel for a few more days, maybe we could … ”

  “Yes. I think we definitely could.” Thank God. I’m not done with him by a landslide. I still have a lot of catching up to do.

  “What are we going to tell them?” he asks with a smile.

  “Your family?’

  “Yup.”

  “I have no idea. That we’re going to fuck each other’s brains out for a few days and that they can just deal with it?”

  “That may be more descriptive than they’ll need.”

  “Or we can tell them nothing and hope they don’t walk in on us.”

  “I like the sound of that.” He tickles me under the arms and tosses me onto the bed. “But first, we need food. I was on my way to dinner when … You know.”

  “When I assaulted you in the hallway?”

  “Yes, exactly.” He grabs my hand and pulls me out of bed. Chris throws on his jeans and grabs the room service menu before he starts to lead me to the couch that overlooks the city.

  “Hold on, I’m grabbing a robe.”

  “No! No clothes!”

  I laugh but go to the bathroom and retrieve the soft white robe that is hanging there for guests. I shut the bifold doors by the tub. I may have just done a lot of things with Chris that I’ve never done with anyone else, but I don’t plan on having him watch me pee be the next one.

  By the time I’m out of the bathroom, Chris is sitting on the edge of the oversize chair and ordering food for us. I sit down behind him, clasp my hands together over his stomach, and lean my head against his back. I listen to the rumble of his deep voice as he orders. He looks back, and I nod that the order is fine. I’m starving now. “Yeah, charge it to room 2021,” he says and hangs up. “Dinner’s on me.”

  “Chris, you don’t have to do that.”

  I bring my right hand to his back as he hangs up, and I pull away to admire again how toned and strong he is. And while he is these things, he is also vulnerable like we all are, proven by the two significant scars on his back. A broken line that starts from just below his left shoulder and ends midway down the right side of his back, a space of probably four inches or so between them.

  I don’t really know if this is really one scar or two. I remember how he threw a shirt on by the lake, and suspect now that he was covering his scars the way I often cover my own. I realize that even though Chris and I have been plenty naked with each other, this is the first time I’ve seen or touched his scars, almost as if my hands knew where not to go while we were intimate. The texture is familiar to me because his scars feel like mine. He stiffens slightly as I touch his skin, and I understand this all too well. I tighten my hold around his waist, letting him know this is not a big deal.

  He takes a deep breath. “Sorry. I totally forgot. That probably sounds crazy.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You know that.” I pat my left hand against his stomach, reminding him that I really do understand.

  I’m still touching his scars. For some reason this is not a question that I want to ask, but I do anyway. “How did you get these?”

  He takes my left hand in his and looks out at the view. The buildings are lit up and showing us a deep blue night sky. “Ugh, a skiing accident when I was a kid. The tips of skis are sharper than you think.”

  I cringe. “Ow.”

  “Ow, indeed.” As he pulls me onto his lap, he nods to the window. “Stellar view, huh?”

  I look at him. “It certainly is.”

  He smiles. “And this chair is very comfortable.” Chris moves his hand inside my robe, just under my breast.

  “It is.”

  “And that couch just screams possibilities, doesn’t it.” Now he has my nipple between his fingers.

  The surge of desire that moves through me leaves me nearly incapacitated.

  “After dinner, though. We need fuel.” Chris parts my robe more and leans in to sweep his tongue over my breast. “Sound good to you?”

  I can only nod weakly in response. It may be the middle of the night, but I am wide awake.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Belonging

  Waking up with Chris’s mouth between my legs, his tongue working against me hard, and finding that I’m halfway to orgasm is not a bad start to the day. At all. He went down on me last night, and I thought that I might absolutely combust. That first touch of his mouth to my clit was more than I could have imagined, and apparently he likes this as much as I do since he’s doing a damn spectacular job of hitting all the right places with all the right rhythms. Chris can read my body with shocking clarity.

  He spreads me apart with his fingers and covers me with his mouth as he sucks on me slowly. I reach down and put my hand on his head and lift myself into him.

  He pulls away slightly so that his mouth is barely touching my body, and he starts to kiss me lightly, just barely letting his lips brush against me. I run my hands through my hair as he parts me open again and traces his tongue over my clit. I’m moving against his mouth now as he puts his hands under me, squeezing me softly and letting his fingers wander. He lifts his tongue and moves down, pushing it inside me for a minute before moving even lower. I spread my legs apart more. I’m breathing hard, practically panting, and I can feel my orgasm coming.

  I move to put myself in his mouth again. “You ready?” he asks, and takes my moaning as a yes. “Good. Because I can’t wait any longer to taste you while you come.”

  Those words alone almost do the trick.

  His tongue is on me again, and he drives his fingers deep inside me, hard. My muscles tighten and I can barely breathe. His mouth and hand are moving perfectly, bringing me closer and closer to the edge, and he’s got total control over me now. It feels like forever that he keeps me on that delicious brink of ecstasy that he gives me just before I come. This? This I cannot do to myself. And then Chris moves just a little faster until I explode. He lightens the pressure as I start to throb against his mouth. I can’t believe how hard I’m coming, how much I’m trembling, how loud I am. He lifts his mouth and gently rubs me with his fingers, making sure I get to enjoy this fully.

  And although I’ve just had the most incredible, satisfying orgasm, and I can hardly see straight, I want more.

  I’m still dizzy and breathing hard when he kisses his way up my body. “You and your pussy are fucking delicious.”

  “Wait …” I’m still half asleep, but I’m alert enough to realize that he’s fully dressed. “Why are there clothes? Stop it with all the clothes-wearing nonsense.”

  He kisses me again. “I have to go. I’ll be back later this afternoon.”

  “Sabin?” I ask.

  “Yeah. Dinner at seven tonight, okay?” He pauses. “So I’ll be here at five.”

  I smile. “Five is good. Hope things go well today.”

  “Go back to sleep, sweet girl.” He pulls the comforter over me and kisses me on the cheek.

  I sleep until after one in the afternoon. Getting laid until all hours of the night is evidently exhausting. After I shower and get dressed, I text James. I’m not ready to fake a friendly chat, but I don’t want to cut off communication with him. Housek
eeping knocks on the door, and I decide that if ever a room needed cleaning, it’s this one.

  Besides, I’m starving. The hotel lounge has a nice lunch menu, so I head down there and inhale a sandwich and then ask for the largest cappuccino they’ll make me. Then I order another one.

  I’ve only been awake for a short time, but I check the time because I cannot wait until five o’clock. It’s impossible to stop smiling like an idiot, so I hold my phone in front of me to give anyone nearby the impression that I am wildly amused by some stupid regretsy post.

  An e-mail comes through. One I’ve been hoping for. Annie has written me back. A long, thoughtful, amazing response to mine. She is heartbreakingly understanding, and not only does she not blame me for pushing her away, but she even confesses that to some degree what I did was a relief. I remind her of my mom in the same way that she reminds me of my mom. We can recover from that, though, she says. She promises. Annie insists that we talk on the phone—soon if I’m up for it, but later if that’s what I need.

  I’m tempted to call her right then, but I decide to move slowly. My e-mail reply to her is full of relief, and joy, and assurances that I will call soon. And I will.

  I look around the hotel lounge. Spending money on this place is obscene and unnecessary. Normally I am not a particularly self-indulgent person, and if I hadn’t run into Chris here I suspect that I would have moved myself to a much cheaper place after a few nights when the amount of money I was wasting hit me. As it is, I am going to make peace with spoiling myself this week. Not everyone has the opportunity to escape into a hotel fantasy life for a week, and I am grateful that I can do this for myself. Especially at a place like this. The Madison Grand is very modern, but still cozy and comfortable, and there’s something sexy about it. Of course, everything seems sexy to me right now. I check out the potted tree a few feet away. Okay, good, I do not find the tree sexy at all, so I have not entirely gone off the deep end.

  I can hardly believe how good last night was. I knew Chris and I had a certain energy together, or whatever, but I could never have imagined it would be the way it was. He is thorough and disciplined, but apparently also capable of losing control in a way that drives me insane. And the way he balances complete tenderness and care with that rough, dirty edge … It’s just damn hot. I’m aware that I was more than ready to have sex, but Chris seems to elicit a side of me that I didn’t know I had.

  I guess when I imagined losing my virginity, I thought it would have a specific beginning and end—that I’d have sex one time and that would be that. Instead, losing my virginity to Chris led to a long night of sex so good that I never could have dreamed it up before. My craving for physical contact, for complete sensory inundation, feels endless right now. I wasn’t aware that my body could be so awake. Chris ignited this in me with his first touch, back when he taught me to skip stones, and he’s been bringing me back to life ever since.

  Best of all, I don’t feel uncomfortable about what we’ve done. I’m not a gooey, lovesick mess. I feel something for Chris that I can’t even define. Having sex for the first time hasn’t changed what I feel and hasn’t created something that didn’t already exist. What we did last night, what we’re going to do tonight, is just another part of us being together. The idea of Chris as my “boyfriend” still sounds totally ludicrous. Boyfriends are about dates, and silly anniversaries, and crap like that. I can’t help feeling like becoming boyfriend and girlfriend would trivialize whatever is between us. If Chris and I ever do really get together, it’s not going to be trivial. It’s going to be the love affair to end all love affairs. It’s obvious that what we’ve been having is hotel-only sex, but I’m not worried about what happens when we go back to school. We’re solidly part of each other’s lives, and that’s not going to change when we leave the hotel.

  And for now, he is giving me exactly what I want, and I hope that I’m giving him at least a fraction of the physical fulfillment that I’ve had. I am saturated with the need to bring him to the edge of insanity the way he did for me. It amazes me that with Chris, I have such a sense of confidence and security despite my inexperience. I would do anything with him.

  I make a stop at the drugstore across the street and load up on condoms before I head back to my room. God, yesterday I thought I knew what “feeling edgy” meant, but today is the real deal. All I want to hear is the sound of Chris knocking on my door so I can get my hands on him before dinner. Of course, I am dying to see Sabin, Estelle, and Eric tonight. I really do miss the hell out of them, especially my Sabin. It will take all my control not to yell at him for being irresponsible and stupid enough to drive drunk. What a dumb college-boy thing to do. He definitely deserves to be in deep shit for that, but I don’t want his life to be ruined, so I hope that court went as well as possible today.

  I get a text from Chris at four thirty telling me that things with Sabin are not too bad, and he’ll fill me in later. He hasn’t told the others that I’m in town yet, so we’ll surprise them. Oh, and we’re all going somewhere nice for dinner so I should dress up.

  Well, shit! I fly over to the closet and pull open the doors, stripping down to my underwear as I scan my closet. I need Estelle. It takes me twenty minutes to decide on a sleeveless black sheath dress that falls mid-thigh and tall black boots, both of which Estelle made me order from one of her favorite online stores. As I lay it out on the bed, it occurs to me that I really miss Estelle, and not just for her fashion sense. The truth is that we’re not exactly close in the sense of trading intimate secrets or engaging in stereotypical girl talk. I doubt she’ll ever talk to me about banging her professor, and I won’t talk to her about sleeping with her brother. Obviously. Yet despite the general lack of emotional sharing between us, I know undoubtedly that our friendship means the world to both of us. I scrounge through my drawstring bag of jewelry and pick out the silver cuff bracelet that Sabin gave me and a silver beaded choker that I’m hoping matches.

  I look the outfit over and decide it seems like a safe bet. The fact that it’s a sleeveless dress and I’m not bothered makes me happy. Chris has had his hands and eyes on every inch of me, including my scar, and nothing freaks him out. We’re both beat up in different ways, and it doesn’t change anything.

  The knock on the door electrifies me. I open the door wearing a black bra and underwear and silently thank Estelle for her insistence that I quit wearing ugly cotton crap sold in three-pack boxes.

  “Holy hell,” Chris says slowly.

  “Hi, honey. How was court?”

  “I don’t even remember now.” He steps in, slips his hand around my waist, and pulls me in. “I think there was a judge there. It was someone robed. Could have been a monk.” Chris runs his hand down my front. As if I’m not already intoxicated by him, his sex appeal just soared up even more because he’s dressed up like I’ve never seen him. It’s not like he’s in a full suit or anything, but compared to his usual college-casual look, the slick black blazer and white dress shirt he’s wearing are pretty damn hot. He does, of course, still have on jeans, but he’s traded his favorite sneakers for black shoes. But while I’m loving the look, my main impulse is to strip it off him.

  I pull myself together enough to ask, “Did the judge happen to say anything important? You know, about your brother’s fate?”

  “Ah, how quickly you forget.” His hand covers my breast, and he tightens his hold for a brief moment. “I don’t believe in fate.”

  “So you don’t believe that you’re fated to come repeatedly tonight?”

  “That’s not fate. That’s just fact.” He kneels in front of me and presses his mouth over my underwear. “And we’re both going to come repeatedly tonight. I have spent the entire day thinking about how good you taste.” The back of his hand runs gently over me. “I didn’t hurt you last night, did I?”

  “No,” I murmur.

  “Or very, very early this morning?”

  “Definitely not.”

  He leans forward on h
is knees and kisses me. “You’re not sore?”

  “Not much.”

  “In that case, there will be even more coming tonight.”

  I reach behind me to steady myself on the wall. I try to focus for one more moment before my ability to think clearly collapses. “And what about Sabin?”

  “I have no idea what his plans are for tonight.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Probation, license suspension, and he’ll be writing a big check.”

  I inhale sharply when Chris follows the line of my underwear with one finger. “Could be … worse.” My voice is shaky and I can feel my skin heat up. For an all-too-short time, he touches under my underwear slowly and carefully. I am beyond worked up and wet within seconds.

  Chris stands up and kisses me on the cheek.“ You should get dressed. We gotta go.” I can feel him smiling against me.

  “What? You said dinner was at seven.”

  “I lied. We’re meeting earlier because Sabin wants to go to some play.”

  I really shouldn’t have a tantrum because that would be tacky and pathetic. But I still give him a look that says I might kill him.

  “I’m not going with them,” he reassures me.

  “What reason did you give?”

  He grabs my ass with both hands. “I said that I couldn’t be out late because I had to come back here and fuck you until you pass out.“

  “Christopher!” I laugh. “You did no such thing.”

  “No. I still haven’t even told them you’re back, so they’re going to flip. They missed you. Especially Sabin.”

  “I missed them, too.” I start to slip from his arms. “For the record, I do think you’re an asshole for teasing me.”

  I sit on the edge of the bed and start to put on my black nylons. Chris folds his arms and leans against the wall, watching me, studying the way I move. While I’m completely comfortable with him in almost every way, it’s making me nervous to have his eyes on me so intently. But l can tell that he likes this, so I take my time getting dressed, doing what I can to draw it out. By the time I slip on the second high-heel black leather boot, Chris looks like he’s about attack me. Damn, Estelle is good.