Say It Sexy

by Virna DePaul

  God, this is really happening. We were completely sober too. This was the real deal.

  I gazed down into her eyes, touching my nose to the tip and side of hers, watching the hope and the need residing there reach out to me.

  “Garrick. Make love with me.”

  Suddenly bursting with emotion, I had to smile. Her request only fanned the burn of lust, blood approaching a boil beneath my thick skin. I kissed the corner of her lips and beneath the curve of her jaw, causing her to tilt her head back a bit. She sighed out in pleasure.

  In the dim light, my fingers trailed over the hem of her black slacks, thumb dipping beneath it to graze over the bare skin of her abdomen and hip. So soft, supple, and smooth. Her curves pressed against me while I kissed her. I pushed her shirt up, exposing her midriff and with a flick of my thumb unfastened the top button to her pants. Warm palm pressed to her firmly, I snaked my hand around and pushed it under her, taking generous, but gentle purchase of her bare behind. She moaned—a silky, delicious sound that I needed to hear again.

  I continued to kiss her throughout the somewhat playful, awkward process of undressing. She giggled.

  “Don’t laugh,” I teased. “This takes skill and finesse.”

  “Well, hopefully we’ll have lots of practice.”

  Smiling wistfully, she reached up and planted her palm on my chest. I sheltered that hand with my own, fingers entwining with hers. And when our eyes met again, I knew she had all of me. Lately, she had seldom smiled. But when she did, it was like a shot to my heart and tantamount to the rising of the sun.

  My hands roamed up over her sides and the rounds of her breasts, feeling with a hunger of their own the perfect flesh of her feminine figure. I kissed her while my palm traced the path down her outer thigh, gently lifting and angling her leg at my side. I gulped my way through a short moan, breathing in the scent of her skin with my lips ghosting over her neck.

  “God, you’re gorgeous,” I whispered, fishing a condom from my pocket, jeans tossed aside in a heap.

  “Wait,” she gasped out, her breaths hot and heavy with desire.

  For a moment, I lay terrified that she would tell me to stop—that she wasn’t ready. But she didn’t.

  “Lay down.”

  Confused and aching to give her attention, I blinked as Gwen masterfully stole the condom packet from me.

  She huffed. “Just… lay down on your back,” Gwen said, worrying at her lip as she ushered me into position. She tore the pack open. My throat went dry with want.

  At first, I wondered where this was going, but I shouldn’t have. Gwen moved to gracefully straddle me, sinfully seductive in every way, and slide her merry path down my body. I could feel the heat radiating from her inner thighs, and I immediately stood at attention.

  “Gwen,” I whispered, my voice already husky.

  “Shh,” she soothed coquettishly—or teased, I couldn’t quite decide. Taking hold of my hard-on, the contact kicking a gasp from my throat, she rolled the condom over me.

  Soon, she sank down and I came up on my elbows to watch. At first, she breathed against me, teasing me with licks and tiny ghosts of touches. I had to grit my teeth against the urge to beg. I wanted to be one with her so badly. Heat roiled in the pit of my stomach. When I thought I could take no more, she enveloped me into the wet warmth of her mouth. My bones melted.

  “Oh,” I groaned, my head falling back and my eyes rolling up.

  At first, she focused on the head, where I was the most sensitive, using her tongue to cushion me before sliding lower. The friction felt phenomenal and the unbidden moans from my throat told her precisely how much.

  “Baby—mmf.”

  Her talented mouth worked me with care and I grew impossibly harder when, after regaining my senses, I caught a glimpse of her staring up at me through her luscious lashes. It was hot to the highest degree. The fire in Gwen’s eyes had returned. And I was so ready to burn in it.

  I tried not to eagerly buck my hips into her lips, but I couldn’t help myself. She felt so good. Just as I reached down to weave my fingers into her hair, she removed my length from her mouth. I stroked her glossy brown tresses. Breathless, I all but whined.

  Shit. Had I ever been this turned on? I rallied to sit up, throw her down, and show her how much she meant to me, but she stopped me with a hand on my abdomen.

  “I—” She blushed… and I could have died. “I want to ride you.”

  Stunned speechless and thrilled beyond words, I gawked at her. No one had ever offered to do that for me before. Even Rachel had refused. The effort usually sat on my shoulders. Gwen actually cared about my pleasure, and I floundered with the stirrings that created.

  Assuming a crestfallen pout, she asked, “Is that okay?”

  “Fuck yes.” I breathed out before I could stop myself.

  Her face lit up with an explosive smile. Climbing up my body, I wrapped my arms around her, helping her get situated and secretly longing for that embrace.

  With me positioned between her legs where the liquid heat pooled in wait, she sank down onto me and I slowly eased into her. We sighed together, and it elated me to see the tension leave her face, replaced with pleasure. She went at her own pace, as she hadn’t allowed me to prep her. I was ecstatic to feel that her body wanted me just as desperately as mine wanted hers, her core slick and burning hot. She began to roll her hips.

  “Garrick,” she praised.

  I could have fucking cried.

  With the pleasure came the passion. I moaned, briefly pulling myself up to breathe in the scent of her skin and kiss her neck before falling back again. I throbbed in the best way. The push of her hips drove me deeper, working in unison to bring us both the beginnings of what would ultimately culminate in sheer bliss. I forged my way deeper still, dragging the experience out with the precision of my subtle thrusts and wandering hands while she bounced above me.

  My hands crept up and down her body, one of them easing down between us when she allowed the space. I pressed a thumb to her most intimate area as she rode. Her breath hitched—like a sigh from a goddess. The muscles across my body began to coil, readying for a release that was sure to come. A hiss followed, sucking air into my lungs through my teeth, groaning. I sat up again, this time to kiss between her breasts and over her nipples. My torso was slick from sweat, glazing the curves of my muscles with a clear sheen, mingling with the moisture on her skin.

  I had not experienced any connection like this before. Making love, I had believed, was reserved for those individuals unburdened by misfortune, regret, or remorse. But as my lips found her neck again, lightly sucking and nipping at the flesh beneath them, moving with her and against her, I knew differently.

  She smiled and I smiled back, glancing from her eyes to her plump, soundly kissed mouth, as I sported a softer version of the cheeky grin she was so accustomed to seeing me wear. This smile was just for her.

  “Garrick, yes!” she cried out, throwing her head back in abandon.

  My name on her lips was music to my ears. I held on to her possessively. The pace to my motions below increased slightly, the drive toward ultimate satisfaction for the both of us heightened by the friction. I pressed my lips to her neck, brushing the bridge of my nose to the curve of her jaw, and groaned.

  "Gwen," I whispered hotly in warning. It felt so good. Another hiss followed, sucking air into my lungs through my bared teeth, and I moaned.

  “Don’t you do it,” she commanded velvetly. “Baby, don’t you come without me.”

  “Shit.” I clutched her tighter and forced myself to hold back for the final few seconds, teetering on the knife’s edge of orgasm. Goddamn. I moaned low when I felt her electric-like release, answering it with my own, pleasure amplified immensely, spilling my seed into the condom while knowing someday, I’d be spilling deep into her.

  She was mine. This woman was all mine.

  I closed my eyes, exhaling to wash her neck in more warmth. My entire body tingled with sen
sation as we rode out our release, both of us moving until our muscles threw in the towel and she slumped against me. We dropped back in bed. I laid with her, pressing my lips to her neck.

  “I love you,” she purred, stroking her fingers through my hair.

  I brushed her lips with mine. “I love you too, baby.”

  * * *

  An hour later, we lay in her bed, all wrapped up in each other’s naked embrace and disheveled sheets. I breathed steady now.

  “I’m so sorry about everything, Garrick,” she whispered, caressing my hands. “I was scared.”

  “Me too. But it’s over now. Are you ready to take the next step?” I asked with a gentle kiss to her shoulder. “I have an interview on Thursday, and if you want, I’ll announce our commitment to each other to the world.” The thought ignited a tangle of burning excitement in my chest.

  She paused, considering. “I’m not quite ready. There’s something I have to do first.”

  I had a suspicion she was referring to speaking to her parents, which evidenced how serious she was about us. I pulled her close to me, swaddling her with warmth and support. “Can I help in any way?”

  She hesitated again, searching in the ceiling for her answer before saying, “Thank you, but this is something I have to do on my own.”

  Nuzzling into the back of her neck, I smiled. “Fine. But only on the condition that you do something with me first.”

  She squirmed around in my arms and fixed me in her gaze. “And what would that be?”

  “You’ll have to wait until tomorrow night to find out.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Gwen

  The following evening, after finishing up with the last scene of shooting for the next episode, Garrick took me on a date. That had been his one condition, and I had been happy to oblige. Lyle had seemed far more pleased with our performance today than the last couple weeks, and Erica seemed more relieved than anyone. I slid into the passenger seat of Garrick’s car. And I always had to use that term loosely, being that Garrick’s car was typically borrowed from someone for the evening.

  He probably had his own, if not several, back in California.

  It occurred to me then that material possessions had never been a big subject between us. Discretely stealing a sidelong glance at him, his chocolate brown hair tossed by the breeze from the open window, I couldn’t help but marvel at how handsome he was, and how relieved I felt that I hadn’t lost him. Reaching across the consul, I snuck my hand into his.

  Tonight, Garrick had planned our date. He refused to tell me even the smallest detail as we cruised down the interstate, but strangely enough, I wasn’t nervous. I felt calmer, happier, and more serene than I had in weeks. I could breathe again, and measure time in contented sighs instead of minutes and the ticking of a clock.

  “What are we doing here?” I asked suspiciously as Garrick pulled into the parking lot of Century Rio 24, a popular movie theater in town.

  “You’ll see,” he teased before leaning over and silencing any complaints I might make with a chaste kiss.

  He led me inside, the two of us donning our disguises of hats and sunglasses to fool the crowd, and took me through the snack bar. We ordered popcorn, candy, and a soda to share, all things my father would have balked at. Needless to say, I had already pegged the agenda. He had taken me here to see a movie, and most likely one he had stared in, which would be great.

  After all, I loved watching Garrick in whatever capacity.

  Ten minutes and four full arms later, he escorted me into one of the first, and largest, theaters and we ascended the carpeted incline.

  “There’s no one here,” I observed when we reached the top of the landing, met by a sprawling view of three hundred empty seats.

  “Yep. And it’s going to stay that way.” After flashing a devilish grin at me, he turned and started climbing the stairs. I followed. He selected a row toward halfway up, and the two seats smack in the middle.

  “Oh!” he exclaimed. “I almost forgot.”

  I blinked back my confusion as he leaned forward and reached under his seat. I heard the rustling of paper. When he sat up, he held a white sack. Dipping his hand in, he grinned and extracted something about the size of a cd player wrapped up in an individual packet.

  “This is for you.” And he handed it to me. “It’s a ring.”

  “Spoiler alert!” I sputtered and teased. “It’s a ring?” With an incredulous smirk, I set my drink aside in the cup holder and accepted his strange offering. It was warm. I carefully unwrapped it and quickly burst in a fit of bittersweet, nostalgic laughter.

  A bagel. Loaded up with cream cheese.

  “A ring, huh?” I giggled.

  “Well, I never said you could wear it. And yes. It’s real,” he stated ostentatiously before I could ask.

  “Garrick,” I sighed, flooded with memories and emotions. Some guys bought jewelry. Mine bought me a bagel. And it somehow meant so much more. “This is the sweetest non-dessert thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  “Hope you saved room,” he snickered back.

  Rolling my eyes, I softly elbowed him just as the lights began to dim.

  “Shh!” he instructed with playful austerity. “It’s about to start.”

  Trying to contain my smile, I settled back into my cushioned seat and took a bite of my bagel, the pastry practically melting in my mouth, and hummed my approval. Halfway to taking a second bite, I froze. The intro music for the film started, and oddly enough, I recognized it.

  “Is this a preview?” I whispered, my mind reeling to put a name to the track.

  He smirked.

  And just when I was about to inquire further, the introduction sequence to Diamond Eyes bloomed onto the screen. With a gasp, I covered my mouth, wishing my bottom lip would stop trembling.

  “Oh, Garrick. You rented out an entire theater to watch a soap opera with me?” I squeaked tearfully.

  He nodded and gingerly took my hand. “That I did, baby girl. And not just Diamond Eyes. We have a whole line up of love stories in store for tonight. With dinner from Jordy’s.”

  I threw my arms around him, giving no care to the mascara running down my face.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Garrick

  After straightening the collar of my suit and smoothing out my tie, I emerged from the bathroom where Tyler, Erica, and Shane sat together on my bed. Erica whistled. Gwen was preparing some kind of speech to give her parents when she called them later. Erica had taken a brief break from her work on the next manuscript to see me off.

  “Come on then,” Tyler muttered sardonically. “Give us a twirl.”

  Just to spite him, I kicked back on my heel, opened the flaps of my suit, and executed a perfect, flashy spin.

  Erica giggled and clapped for me. “Are you nervous?”

  “Nah,” I answered, nonchalant. “I’ve done a million of these.” Just none of them when I was in love with Gwen.

  “Good.” She nodded sagely “Carl is the sweetest guy and a terrific host. I’ve been on Happy Hour twice now. It’s a breeze.”

  By chance, my eyes caught on Shane, who looked a little like a puppy someone had accidentally left outside. He wouldn’t have missed a chance to make fun of my for this clown suit. Something had to be bugging him.

  “Hey, Shane,” I prompted. He looked up at me as though he was a student I had shaken awake. Ironically, I did feel like a professor in this get up. “You okay? Is the dismal grey of this suit catching?”

  He huffed out a sigh and shifted uncomfortably. “No. Yeah. I don’t know.” Then, he mumbled something unintelligible and scrubbed his face with his hands, further muffling the tail end of the sentence.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t speak Gibberish,” Tyler muttered.

  Shane huffed. “You promise not to laugh?”

  Seconds away from reassuring Shane, Tyler stated flatly, “What are we, five?”

  “I have to kiss a dude next episode,” groaned
Shane.

  Erica hugged herself as she doubled over laughing. My trembling lips gave me away and, with that accusatory glare, I could tell he knew I wasn’t far from the same.

  “Aw, man, don’t stress!” I encouraged. “Just pretend he’s Erica.” Silence struck the room. I realized, to my chagrin, that this was one of those times I should have thought before I spoke. Shane had lit up like a Christmas tree, red as a beet and staring intently out the window.

  Erica, however, had fixed me in a distinctly female dark eyed leer, clearly incensed.

  “And why, pray tell, would he equate me with a man?”

  “File your butt hurt report with someone else,” Tyler instructed, dropping back against the headboard. “He just means you two have good kissing chemistry.”

  I opened my hands. “Exactly!” I never thought I’d think this, but thank you, Tyler.

  Erica blinked rapidly, furrowing her brow. “What would make you think that?”

  I spun around and waltzed back into the bathroom to tress myself up in a tie. “The party,” I reminded her, elevating my voice to be heard and looping my tie around my shoulders.

  It didn’t click until Erica, after a pause, asked, “What about the party?”

  Safely out of her line of vision, I bit my lip, shut my eyes, and cursed myself. She doesn’t remember. She didn’t remember kissing Shane, which must have been why he had clammed up in the break room. Shit.

  “Guys, what about the party?” she repeated, her tone suspicious.

  Emerging from the bathroom, I looked at Tyler for help. “You started this fire, Garrick. You’re on your own.”

  I gulped. “Well,” I rattled off, nervously running my hand through my hair. “At the party, I saw you kissing someone.”