Rocked by Him

by Lucy Lambert

  Then I understood.

  “It’s Drake, isn’t it? He told you not to let me see him. Didn’t he?”

  “Nobody told me anything, lady. You’re just not allowed back there, got it?”

  So he didn’t want to see me. Which meant he’d seen me in the audience. I thought of the pain and sadness I heard in his voice in that last lyric, and I knew he still felt hurt and betrayed. Or it could just be that it was still an open wound to him. Could it be that he felt for me so deeply that he couldn’t risk having to part from me again?

  Whatever the reason, it was the final bell, the last accounting. Lawrence started lifting his hands, thinking I might make for a run past him.

  “It’s okay. Just… Can you tell him something? Can you tell him I’m sorry, and that I made the wrong choice?”

  Another French shrug from Lawrence.

  “Hey, if you’re not going in can you get out of line?” someone said behind me.

  It was the guy who’d spoken to me before the show. His overly long bangs were glued to his cheeks with sweat, and the backstage pass in his hand looked a little soggy from his holding onto it too tightly.

  “Yeah, I’ll go,” I said.

  I left, turning back once when I got to the door. Lawrence glanced at me, then away quickly when he saw my looking.

  It didn’t matter. Drake didn’t want to see me, that was clear. All I wanted to do was get home, shower, and do my best to forget about all this.

  Maybe I’d even let Lucinda set me up, for all the good it would do.

  ***

  The cab ride back was thankfully quiet. Small comforts, right? When I got to the lobby of my apartment building, I found it empty. I let my fingers brush over the leaves of a big fern standing between the twin elevators.

  The call button turned red when I pushed it, and I watched as the elevator on my right slowly descended. For some reason they were both up near the top floor.

  That always baffled me. Why don’t they program it so one elevator was closer to the top, and the other always returned to the ground floor?

  Really deep thoughts. But I enjoyed splashing around in the shallows. I decided that when I got upstairs I’d throw in the most syrupy sweet romantic comedy in my collection. I drew small comfort from the knowledge that love always won out in the end of those, no matter what.

  I also thought that I needed to get rid of anything to do with The Icons from my life. Block their homepage from my laptop, avoid radio stations that played popular new music, do my best to avoid the music scene in New York City. I had my work cut out for me.

  The cuffs of my leather jacket kept sticking to the back of my hands, so I pulled the jacket off. What kind of person wore a leather jacket, anyway? I’d find out where the nearest Salvation Army was around here and donate it. Along with these old jeans, and the shirt.

  Casualties of a broken heart.

  “Come on…” I said, slowly stretching my neck. The elevator had stopped on the third floor, and didn’t seem to want to come down.

  A deep ache emanated from all my muscles at once, and I thought that going straight to bed might be the best idea. Then to work tomorrow, and pretending all of this never happened.

  Then I remembered another thing. Lucinda wanted to know all about this. She’d ask so many questions, and she’d look so happy while doing it. That was okay. It would all be okay so long as Bud didn’t find out about this, and since only Lucinda knew I was going, I doubt he would.

  The elevator’s motor coughed as it reached the ground floor. I heard the ding from within, and then the door slid open. I recognized the old guy who stepped out. It was the one who called the cops on Drake that first night we’d spoken. I opened my mouth to say “Hi,” as though he were an old friend, then stopped.

  He gave me the stink eye and scurried on past.

  “Jerk,” I muttered under my breath, stepping into the elevator. The harsh light made me blink and squint. I wondered what would have happened if I hadn’t helped Drake out that night? I’d probably have seen him in the elevator every now and then with some new girl from the bar, thought he was a player jerk, and been through with the whole thing.

  It gave me a momentary blip of satisfaction before all the fond memories I had of him objected.

  It seemed that was all I had any more: memories.

  Before I could slip in any deeper and forget where I was, I jabbed at the button for my floor. The elevator dinged and the door began its ponderous slide shut. I leaned against the back wall and shut my eyes. The light was bugging them.

  The door stopped closing. My eyelids crinkled a little in irritation, and I opened them expecting to find the old man waving his finger in my face about lying to the cops or something.

  “Hi,” I said, my back suddenly stiff. I grabbed onto the rail behind me and squeezed the cool metal.

  “Hey,” Drake said. He stepped into the elevator and the door slid shut behind in the time we spent considering each other.

  I didn’t want to admit it, but he looked really good. He had the same stuff on that he’d worn on stage. His shoulders heaved a bit as he caught his breath.

  “Were you running?” I asked. I realized how lame that was to say as soon as the words left my mouth, but I was too shell-shocked to think of anything else. I just wanted to fill the silence.

  Drake shook his head and laughed as he usually did, this time rubbing at the back of his head. He glanced around the elevator. “Yeah, actually. My car got stopped a couple blocks down and I just felt this need to run. Then when I got into the lobby, I saw the elevator shutting with you in and I knew I needed to get here before it did… Hey, you’ll never guess who I ran into out front…”

  The elevator lurched when it started its ascent, dinging as it passed the second floor.

  “The guy who called the cops on you…”

  “The guy who called the cops on me,” he said, smiling.

  Glancing back, he reached over and flicked the emergency stop button. The elevator jerked to a halt. I was stuck in a tiny steel box with my ex, who looked hotter than hell at that moment, and I didn’t know what to do or say.

  I felt acutely aware of the security camera peeping down at us from its corner. Was anyone actively watching that thing? I couldn’t decide what I wanted the answer to the question to be.

  “So… Why are you here?” I said finally. He kept looking into my eyes, and I kept looking down at his shoes. His pointed right at my boots, only a couple inches from touching. The thought made me swallow heavily.

  He pointed at the leather jacket balled up in one hand. “That looks nice.”

  “What, this old thing?”

  I lifted it to show him. He pulled it from my hand and dropped it to the floor.

  “Hey…” I started.

  Then he pulled my close and kissed me. It startled me at first, but my body responded to his cues and soon I had my hands under his shirt, feeling the firm muscles in his back.

  His kiss was even more intense than I remembered. Our teeth clashed together in the heat of our desire, but neither of us stopped.

  So many questions littered my mind. Why was he here? Why hadn’t he acknowledged me at the show? Was that song really about me?

  He wiped them all from my mind. His hands ran down from the small of my back, gripping my bottom, squeezing it hard enough to hurt even as he ground his hips into mine.

  All that forced time apart had built something up in both of us, and it appeared that neither of us had found a release for all that.

  Until that moment, anyway.

  His hands explored my body as though for the first time, squeezing and touching me in all the places I missed his fingers the most.

  I slipped my hand between our bodies and squeezed the front of his pants. He groaned deep in his throat, and he hardened instantly at my touch. Without my consent, my fingers began pulling his belt out, then working on the button and zipper.

  One nagging question wouldn’t leave my min
d, though. And even the heat building low in my body couldn’t make me forget it.

  With much reluctance, I parted our lips. His eyes searched mine for the meaning of this, and his hands stilled.

  I glanced up at the camera staring at us. It had a little red light that looked so much like an evil eye.

  Understanding me, still no words passing between us, he stooped and picked up my jacket. He hung it over the camera, stretching up to reach it. I caught a glimpse of the smooth skin on his back when his jacket and shirt lifted.

  Then I had my hands on him again, wrapping my arms around him from behind. I kissed his neck, letting his stubble prickle my lips and enjoying it all the same.

  I let my hands go lower and lower, gliding down his stomach, feeling his abs. There was something so hot about wondering if there was a security guard watching that camera feed, desperate to know what was going on beyond the blackness that he’d just glimpsed the start of.

  I pursed my lips and blew lightly on Drake’s ear. To my great pleasure, the skin on his neck and shoulders burst into goosebumps. I pulled his earlobe between my lips and nibbled on it.

  All the while, my hands kept going down his body. They finished what I’d started before, undoing his pants. I pushed my fingers down past the elastic of his briefs, my heart pounding as I got closer and closer…

  His manhood felt hot, hard, and thick in my hands. I pulled it out of its cloth prison and stroked it. Drake’s hips began thrusting against my grip, and I squeezed him.

  I couldn’t remember if he’d gotten this hard our first and only time. I couldn’t remember if I’d gotten so slick. Even just the pressure of keeping my thighs together gave me a heady lightness laced my tingles up through my body.

  I recalled that night of ours with relish, every last detail of it. I remembered what he’d done for me, and how good it made me feel. I wanted him to feel good, too.

  So I turned him around and pushed him into the corner. I kept one hand on his member, stroking his length while I kissed his neck. He shrugged off his jacket, and I helped him pull of his shirt.

  We were right under the security camera, and I wondered if it could see any of this. The thought of it made me even hotter.

  Then I let my lips move down his body, the tip of my tongue stopping to toy with a nipple for a few moments before sliding down between his abs.

  His shaft throbbed in my hand. I breathed down onto it, and Drake groaned. He grabbed at the railing on either side of him for support.

  He met my eyes as I let my slightly parted lips caress the side of his manhood, moving slow as I could manage toward the end.

  When I took him in my mouth, he closed his eyes and pressed the back of his head to the wall. I went slowly again, letting my tongue tickle the ridges, enjoying the salty taste he had.

  I held my lips in a tight seal around his girth and pushed my mouth as far down his length as I could manage. Just feeling him pulsing so hot against my tongue almost made me climax. I’d almost forgotten how amazing it felt to make someone else feel good.

  I trailed my lips up and down his member, picking up the saliva I left behind with my fingers so that I could stroke him at the same time.

  My body panged with the need to once more feel him inside, but I didn’t want to stop pleasing him. He made such sexy moans, and his mouth opened slightly when he panted, trying to keep control of himself.

  “Come here,” Drake said finally, releasing his white-knuckle grip on the rail to guide me back. His manhood glistened with my saliva.

  On my feet again, we kissed. Then his hands became the busy ones, hastily undoing my jeans and pushing them down, then lifting my shirt off and undoing my bra.

  I’d never before made love in a public place. I knew the elevator hardly counted, seeing as with the camera covered up there was no way for anyone to see us. And with it stopped between floors, no way for anyone to catch us in the act.

  But it still felt like something I shouldn’t be doing, and that just made it hotter.

  Drake practically attacked my newly-naked body with his mouth. His lips moved down my neck, down between my breasts. His breath felt warm and wet on my flesh, and made me tingle.

  I grabbed his head, my fingers weaving through his hair, when he sucked on my nipple. He bit down ever so slightly on it, and I sucked in a sharp breath at the sensation.

  Then his hand slipped up between my legs. This time there was no teasing, no drawn-out foreplay. With both knew what we wanted.

  His fingers found my sex sopping with my need for him. He massaged me there, his fingertips electric against my flesh.

  His mouth slid down to my stomach, leaving a hot trail of flushed flesh behind. He got to just below my navel, his lips undulating against me. That close to my most sensitive parts, his actions left me tingling. I could only describe the sensation as a sensual, sexual tickle.

  Even as he stood back up to kiss me some more, this all felt like some wonderful dream.

  His manhood slipped between my legs, the top of it parting my lips. I shivered at the friction.

  “It’s not, is it?” I said when he pulled back for air.

  “Not what?” he replied.

  “This isn’t a dream?”

  Drake brushed away some stray strands of hair that had fallen across my cheeks, and his eyes searched mine.

  “No, it’s not a dream, Jenn,” he said.

  I believed him. If it were a dream, I would have woken up by now. You couldn’t feel anything so intense in a dream without waking.

  “Oh!” I said.

  Drake knelt down for a moment, slipping his arms behind my knees. He lifted me up, the back of my knees cradled in the crooks of his elbows. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders for support. He held my weight with ease. My back pressed against the corner of the elevator, the stainless walls cold to the touch.

  “I missed you so much…” I said, taking the chance to attack his face and neck with some of my own kisses.

  Then I felt him against my sopping wetness, his rigid member testing my tightness. My arms clenched around his shoulders as he entered me. We both hissed and groaned at the sensation of him parting my slick walls.

  Then words had no place between us. There were only our two bodies, and the satisfying feeling of him thrusting deep into me. He picked up the pace quickly, and went hard enough that the elevator shook and whined.

  It felt so right, so good. Once more, we were of a single body, both our minds focused only on the feelings of being so close to the other.

  We kissed again, and this time I sucked his bottom lip in and bit down on it. He groaned at it, and I felt him grow harder inside me.

  How could he be so impossibly hard? It was incredible. That, and the heat of him.

  We both reached our tipping points together. My walls clenched down around him, the energy of my climax building low in my body, just waiting for sweet release.

  Drake didn’t slow down. No, he went faster, harder. He was relentless. He swelled inside me.

  I cried out when my climax seized me, my sex clamping down around him, imprisoning his member within me.

  Drake rammed himself all the way in, forcing his way through my clenching walls. His body strained, the muscles standing out in his neck and shoulders.

  His manhood jerked, and I felt the warmth of his seed deep within me. It jerked again, and again, each time making me cry out. I wanted more of it. I wanted all of it. I wanted all of him.

  It got so intense that I couldn’t breathe for a few moments. My eyes opened and closed, but the view didn’t change. Constant starbursts of color filled it.

  When the energies flooding my body escaped, they left all my muscles trembling. If Drake hadn’t been holding me, I would have fallen to the floor. My arms could barely work up the strength to continue holding his shoulders. I rested my forehead against one of those strong shoulders, panting, trying to catch my breath.

  Even after finishing, Drake remained rock hard inside me.
I could feel his pulse through his member.

  I never wanted to part from him, but knew that I would have to at some point. The outside world would come crashing in, our physical needs requiring attention, that sort of thing.

  He set me down when he began softening within me. Sweat glistened on both our bodies. His skin was red around his shoulders and neck where I’d been holding him so strongly.

  My shaking legs barely held me up. His grip had left red finger shaped marks on my thighs. I felt somehow deeply relaxed and intensely sore at the same time. Even Drake took a few moments leaning against the elevator to catch his breath.

  And despite all that, a stirring desire to have him again grew inside me. Even though I knew neither of us could take it right then. Besides, we needed to get out of that elevator!

  Gathering our clothes, we dressed quickly. I did my best to straighten out my hair.

  “Ready?” Drake said. He ran his fingers through his hair. The flush to his face and neck added some heat to that desire in me, but I resisted the urge.

  “Yeah,” I said, tugging at the bottom of my tee, making it try to sit right. In his passion to take it off me, he’d stretched it and now it didn’t fit quite right anymore.

  Reaching up, Drake grabbed my jacket and handed it to me. The camera stared down at us with its unblinking lens. That little red light on it still glowed.

  I tried to behave like nothing happened, clasping my hands in front of me and staring with a bored expression at the screen displaying the elevator’s progress. Drake leaned against the wall. He turned off the manual stop and the elevator resumed its climb.

  I held my breath when the ding sounded. The door slid open in front of me, revealing an empty hall. I’d been dreading coming face to face with one of my neighbors. They’d see us both standing there, sweaty, hair plastered down, our clothes in disarray.

  I put the thoughts from my mind. What did it matter? Drake was back in my life!

  Daring the camera to take footage of it, I grabbed Drake’s hand and led him out. We got to my apartment and we settled on the couch after I flicked on a couple lights.