Star Struck

by Meredith Michelle

  You roll your eyes in his direction.

  “Just kidding,” he appeases. “I just thought this might make it a little easier to relax, after the day you’ve had.”

  “Well, then”—you smile—“I’m all for it.”

  He braces the bottle between his thighs and expertly pops the cork, sending it shooting into the darkness without spilling a drop. He pours out two glasses and hands you the first, stopping momentarily for a toast.

  “To learning to relax,” he says.

  You smile in agreement. “I’ll drink to that.” You clink glasses and sip.

  The bubbly sweetness sizzles across your tongue and throat then descends in a flutter of warmth.

  Bodhi downs his drink in a swallow and tosses the glass aside. You raise your eyebrows.

  “We have work to do!” He shrugs off his black jacket and tosses it into the sand. His shining hair, bright teeth, and white shirt gleam against the backdrop of the black sky. “Now,” he tells you, “assume the position.” He kneels on the blanket facing the water, closes his eyes and rests his hands on his thighs, palms turned toward the sky.

  You take one more sip of champagne and, suppressing a giggle, try to match Bodhi’s posture. You feel warmth begin to bloom in your cheeks, whether from the champagne or something else, you’re not sure. You do your best to embody Bodhi’s stillness, but a giggle escapes you.

  “What’s so funny?” Bodhi asks with amusement in his voice.

  You giggle even more in response. “Nothing.”

  “You lightweight,” Bodhi teases. “This is very serious business.”

  This makes you laugh even more. You reach for your glass and down the last sip of your champagne, then try earnestly to settle into your meditation.

  “Begin by quieting your thoughts,” Bodhi intones, his voice calm and even. “Close your eyes and concentrate on clearing your mind. Listen only to the sound of your breath.”

  The minute you close your eyes you are instantly hit with a wave of dizziness that makes you fall sideways into the sand. You’re glad Bodhi’s eyes are closed so that he doesn’t notice your wobbly attempt to regain your balance. You successfully steady yourself and resume your effort to concentrate on the sound of his voice.

  “Now, take a series of breaths, and with each breath, imagine yourself blowing away negative energy and stress. With each breath in, you’ll renew yourself with clean, clear, positive energy. Out with the bad, in with the good . . . out with the bad, in with the good . . .”

  Following his direction, you take a few breaths, but your mind keeps wandering. Images from your stressful day appear behind your closed eyelids. You steal a peek at Bodhi. Eyes firmly shut, he’s methodically breathing and achieving a look of almost silly bliss.

  Maybe a little more champagne will help, you think. You reach out stealthily for the bottle and glass lying in the sand beside you. Bodhi is blissfully unaware as you pour the fizzy liquid into the glass, but as you finish the job, the clink of glass on glass betrays you.

  “Hey! You’re supposed to be meditating.”

  “I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I just can’t stop thinking about everything. I’m fixating, I know, but I can’t help it.”

  “Okay,” Bodhi says, releasing a sigh, “let’s try something else.” He moves to kneel on the blanket-covered sand behind you and puts his hands on your shoulders. “Go ahead, hold onto your glass.”

  You take a sheepish sip and kneel in front of him.

  Bodhi takes your shoulders firmly in his strong hands and begins to massage, moving his hands along the length of your bare neck. You can’t help but gasp at the pleasure of his touch. How long has it been since you’ve had a neck rub? You don’t have much time to wonder as Bodhi’s strong, sure hands move up into your hairline and then down to your back, his thumbs moving in circles with just enough pressure to work your muscles into gentle submission.

  “Man, you’re tight!” Bodhi says, continuing to work his magic. “That’s some serious stress.”

  “Mmmmm . . .” You sigh. “Tell me about it,” you mumble appreciatively as his fingers move expertly up your spine then back to your neck and shoulders once more. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, making the soft hair there stand on end. He finishes by running his fingers gently down the center of your back.

  “How’s that?” he asks. “Better?”

  “Bodhi,” you tell him, “I think you’ve missed your calling.”

  “Just wait,” he laughs.

  “Okay, now turn to face me,” he instructs, and you dutifully obey. He takes your hands in his and begins to gently massage small circles into your palms. Maybe it’s the champagne, but the firm insistence of his touch sends an electric current up your spine. You’re glad for the padding built into your bodice, without which the evidence of the chills you’re experiencing would be obvious in the moonlight.

  “Close your eyes,” he tells you, and you do, only too anxious for whatever pleasure he has in store. But he does nothing more than continue the circles on your palms as he begins to speak again, his voice magical, deep, and even.

  “Imagine yourself at one with the night. You are the stars, your thoughts disappear into the air around you, your breath is the ebb and flow of the ocean waves . . .”

  Try as you might to concentrate on his words, you can’t help but sneak a peek at Bodhi. At that moment, he opens his eyes and he locks his gaze with yours. You don’t know whether it’s the intensity of his eyes, the heady spin of the champagne in your blood, or the magic of the sand and sea at night, but you’re overcome by an irresistible urge. You lean in to Bodhi, your hands still in his, close your eyes, and kiss him fully on the lips.

  Bodhi returns the kiss completely. His lips lock with yours, pushing hard and urgently against your mouth. He thrusts his tongue into your open mouth, and swirls it against yours. His kiss is hungry and pulls you into his body like the undertow of the sea. He tastes of mint and moonlight, and your head feels light and dizzy. You begin to lose your balance again and lean your weight into his. Bodhi grasps you firmly, his large hands on your upper arms, your breasts against the warm firmness of his broad chest. As you lean into his body, you feel the hardened bulge below his cummerbund. Your heartbeat quickens as you lean into him more fully, relishing the feel of him against you. You’re surprised by his size, not that you’d ever given it much thought, but it certainly feels . . . substantial.

  You begin to reach down lower on his body, feeling the definition of his chest, running your hands against the crisp cotton tuxedo shirt to feel the taut stomach beneath, then to his lower stomach, equally firm under the slippery silk of his waistband. As you run your index finger inside the upper edge, pressing your left hand against the broadness of his chest, Bodhi’s hand falls to your lower back, pulling you closer. His hand travels lower and grips the round curve of your rear while your hands explore further inside his waistband. He breathes in sharply as you reach his navel and then the very tip of something else.

  You gasp in pleasure but hesitate and pull your hand away. You move your hands back to his upper arms and pull away from the depth of his kiss. For a moment, your head ceases its spinning and you close your eyes to steady yourself.

  “Bodhi . . .” you begin.

  “Anna,” he breathes heavily, his voice deeper and huskier than you’ve ever heard it. He pulls you back to him and presses his full lips against yours.

  You save yourself from breathlessness by pulling away, and look Bodhi squarely in the eye. “Bodhi,” you say again, trying to slow your breath and your pounding heart, “maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

  “Anna,” he sighs, his eyes soft and full of moonlight, “you’re my fantasy.”

  You feel your heart melt even as a million thoughts rush through your mind. Bodhi is your very closest male friend. You know if this goes any further it could ruin your relationship.

  You tell yourself to stop and think, and make a choice.

 
; To allow Bodhi to pull you into another kiss and back into his arms, skip to the bottom of the page.

  To stop your embrace with Bodhi and return to your hotel, keep reading.

  Slipping the key card into your hotel room door, weariness and guilt overwhelms you. You hate disappointing Bodhi and you’re more than a little let down yourself.

  Still, you’re proud of your self-control. Bodhi’s friendship is too valuable to ruin with a one-night stand. Plus, you do have to be up ridiculously early. You gaze longingly at the luxurious bedding neatly turned down for you as you kick your shoes aside and zip out of your dress. You leave it puddled on the floor and climb under the cool, smooth sheets, feeling the day melt away.

  At the last minute, you remember your up-do and quickly pull loose all the pins you can find, setting them on your bedside table. You shake your hair until it falls free, hardly noticing the pins you’ve forgotten as you nestle your head into the deep, down pillows and fall into a totally enveloping and dreamless sleep.

  Turn to page 70

  From top of page . . .

  The delicious lightness of the champagne, the magical moonlight, and eternal pull of the sea sweep you back into Bodhi’s strong arms. You tilt your head up and glance quickly into his sparkling eyes before closing yours. His hands travel lower, lifting your long skirt and exploring the length of your thighs. He slides his fingers down the inside of your hipbones, letting his thumbs play over your navel. You consider for a moment that someone could walk up and discover you. For all you know, there could be paparazzi hiding behind the scraggly dunes. But these thoughts are as fleeting as bubbles of champagne and the risk makes you even more excited. You feel a shower of sparks ignite in the deepest part of you as Bodhi moves his fingers lower.

  “Bodhi,” you begin, but before you can get anything more out, Bodhi sweeps you off of your feet—literally. The butterflies rise and flutter as he pulls you up off the sands into his arms. You feel the firm bulge of his biceps against your back as he easily lowers you onto the blanket. He slips one hand into your hair, causing fresh shivers to run down the back of your neck. He works his hands through your hair, pulling the bobby pins free, then runs his fingers through your loosened mane and gently presses your shoulders back down onto the blanket. He kicks aside the empty champagne flutes and stands over you, like a lion savoring his prey. His hair is wild in the beach breeze and his eyes shine with desire.

  You smile to yourself. The hesitation you felt before is as distant as the stars above you. Bodhi bares his white teeth in a smile and lowers himself to meet you. You toss you hair back as he attacks your neck hungrily, sending chills of pure pleasure from your head down to your toes. You breathe in deeply, drinking in the scent of Bodhi’s musky skin mingled with the sea air, and the last bits of tension melt away.

  There’s something hungry about Bodhi’s approach, and a fantasy begins to float through your mind. An image comes to you of lions on a dry, sandy plain. Bodhi is a big-muscled male, all sinuous flesh and full, shaggy mane. He prowls around you, the female he’s pursuing, little growls escaping his massive throat as he advances. His broad, tanned body ripples as he walks toward you, huge paws sending up puffs of dust from the dry ground. When he finally reaches you, he goes straight for your neck. The line between fantasy and reality blurs as Bodhi bites lightly, and you feel totally connected to him.

  He pauses for a moment to look at you, as if to remind himself that he is really here, with you, then kisses you again, moving to your chest. He traces the top of your cleavage with the tip of his tongue then glances at you to gauge your response as, in one smooth movement, he pulls the bodice of your dress down to your waist.

  You fleetingly realize he must have unzipped the dress at some point, but your thought is interrupted by the realization that your breasts are exposed in the night air, your nipples hardening quickly from the light breeze. Bodhi caresses your left breast with one hand briefly then takes your other nipple into his mouth. You gasp as he runs his tongue around it then begins to suck hungrily.

  You feel the heat rise to your groin and you use your hands on his hips to maneuver his body on top of yours. You feel the sand compress beneath you as his weight settles onto your body, and you feel the hardness of him pressing urgently against you. Bodhi thrusts slightly as he begins to work on your other breast, making the heat you feel rise higher. You bring your hips up to meet his, loving the passion between you.

  Bodhi moves his mouth down to your stomach, pushing the bodice of your gown even lower, while using both hands to squeeze and massage your breasts. You slip the long, slender fingers of your hand back into his waistband. You feel the intense heat of him. When you can’t wait any longer, you slide your hand lower and grasp his hard, thick base. Bodhi gasps as you explore the length and width of him with your fingers. You wonder whether he can be as big as he feels, and you don’t want to wait to find out.

  You find the buttons of his tuxedo pants then slide the zipper until it stops. You move your hands around to grip his perfectly firm buttocks. Bodhi rises to his knees to make the job easier, and you notice as you slide his pants down to his muscular calves that he’s not wearing anything underneath. You laugh, look up quizzically, and Bodhi reads your thoughts. “You know I like my freedom,” he explains gruffly, and you realize as he slips your dress past your toes and tosses it into the sand, so do you.

  You stop for a moment to take in the magnificence of Bodhi’s physique. His muscled body gleams in the moonlight. Moving your eyes down across his washboard abs, you gasp a little, taking in the sheer size of him, then glance up into his eyes and lower his head to kiss him there, using the lightest touch of your lips to caress him. His taste is clean and salty, and you hear him groan with pleasure as you explore the smooth length of him with your tongue. Finally, you take him into your mouth. Bodhi breathes in sharply but gently lifts your head and leans forward to join your lips again with his, pressing you firmly back onto the soft blanket. Before you can say a word he proceeds to use first one finger to caress you in small circles, then two to plunge in deeply, connecting with the most sensitive part of you, then his mouth and tongue to bring you to the luscious edge of desire. You moan as you massage his blond head with your hands.

  “Anna,” he groans, “you taste so good.”

  When you can take no more, you gently pull his head toward you, but he doesn’t budge. His tongue continues to flicker and thrust around your ultra-sensitive flesh and you reflexively push your pelvis into him.

  “Bodhi,” you say, trying to tug him upward again.

  “Uh-uh,” he manages as he returns his concentration to you.

  “Bodhi, come on, I want to feel you,” you plead hoarsely.

  Finally, Bodhi grins and raises his head.

  He kisses his way up your belly, chest, and neck, then rejoins your mouth with his. As he does, he wraps his arms behind your back and pulls you to him. He braces himself against the sand and pulls you on top of him slowly and gently, and you feel the tip of his erection against you. You wrap your arms around his thick neck and pull yourself into his lap, lowering yourself onto his tantalizing sheathed length. As he enters you, he bites gently on your earlobe and whispers a low, steady growl.

  Bodhi begins to rock under you, slowly at first, so that you gradually feel the length of him filling every part of you. You glance down in front of you, over Bodhi’s smooth shoulders, and notice that your dress and his tux are covered in sand. You laugh to yourself, and let the lightness of this night lift you again as you close your eyes and lean into Bodhi’s full-bodied embrace.

  You rock with him as he thrusts more deeply and you feel the pressure building. Suddenly, he lets out a deep growl and thrusts so deeply it almost hurts. You feel him filling you and arch your back to push yourself deeper, and there’s nothing at all in the world besides you and him.

  You open your eyes to see Bodhi staring intently into yours and you find yourself lost in waves and waves of exquisite pleasur
e. You thrust yourself into him and moan into his neck, biting gently. You collapse back into the sandy blanket with Bodhi on top of you, and breathe deeply into the cooling night air. Bodhi kisses your neck then rests his head on your shoulder. You run your fingers through his silken hair as your breathing begins to slow. You lay like this for what feels like hours, until Bodhi gently rolls to your side.

  “Anna,” he tells you, “that was amazing.”

  Slowly and silently, stopping to kiss you tenderly every few moments, he helps you back into your gown, shakes the blanket free of sand, and wraps it snugly around you to shield you from the cooling air.

  Back in the car, you sprawl yourself across the dark leather of the rear seat. Your limbs are loose and languid and an overwhelming sense of relaxation overtakes you. In your mind, you see nothing but stars and moonlight and you smile to yourself. It feels strange to be reverting to your former roles, Bodhi driving you home and you staring at the back of his rumpled hair. You begin to speak but can’t think of the right thing to say. Bodhi seems to feel the same and turns the soft music of the radio up to mask the silence. You’re grateful for the chance to luxuriate in the satiety of your body, and you rest your head against the seat back and close your eyes. Before you know it, you’ve fallen asleep.

  You wake as the car comes to a stop in front of your hotel. You sleepily open your eyes and try to focus your bleary vision on the lighted doorway. The doorman stands at the ready, eyes politely diverted. Bodhi exits his door and opens yours, offering a hand to help you to your feet. You take it and feel a shimmer of the sparks you shared reignite. He follows you through the revolving glass door.

  At the bank of elevators, you turn to face Bodhi. He looks at you with those big, brown eyes, raises his eyebrows, and inhales with a smile. As his shoulders lift, he looks so much like a teenager after his first kiss that you have to laugh.

  “What?” Bodhi asks you.