I Was Here All Along

by Blake, Penny

  I locate my camera and then check myself in the mirror, but I’m unhappy with the way I’m dressed. I’m wearing workout clothes, no makeup and a pony tail.

  I’ve worked hard for this picture, and suddenly I want to make it count.

  I look around my room for something better to wear. My eyes settle on a Victoria’s Secret bag in the corner, and I get a crazy idea.

  Chapter 19

  Stripped Bare

  I take a deep breath and give myself one last glance in the mirror. I’ve been trying to get Rio to notice me as more than a client for way too long, and now I’m about to pull out the big guns.

  I’m wearing my black lace bra, thong, garter belt and stockings, and I’ve even added a touch of make-up and fixed my hair so it falls over my shoulders.

  When I catch my reflection in the mirror, I feel a tinge of doubt, wondering if I’m taking things too far. And yet I know it doesn’t matter. Because even if this is a horrible choice and I’m about to make my most humiliating mistake to date, the truth is, I don’t have a choice at all. I’m completely incapable of stopping this thing with Rio, whatever it is, until its run its course and I’ve seen it through to the very end. Whatever that end may be.

  I take a fortifying breath and step into the living room.

  Rio is looking at the computer in his lap, one foot perched on the coffee table and an arm draped casually across the top of the couch.

  When I shut the door behind me, he turns and looks up at to me. The only thing that moves are his eyes, which slowly rake up and down my body before meeting my gaze. And when he does, there’s a hungry, predatory gleam in them I’ve never seen before. I take a step back, only to feel the cool wall against my back.

  I make an awkward little “ta da” gesture that resembles jazz hands, realizing I look more dorky than sexy, and suddenly feeling completely exposed and utterly stupid for throwing myself at someone with zero interest in me.

  Rio continues to stare at me with hooded eyes, then he shifts slightly in his seat.

  “You like to tease me, don’t you December?” he says, carefully setting the laptop on the coffee table without breaking our stare. “I’ve warned you time and time again that this is not a good idea, but you just don’t listen. You just don’t listen. And now this.”

  He stands up and I’m struck by how large and physically imposing he appears in my small living room. He seems to suck all the air out of the room as he slowly moves toward me, sending my heartbeat racing and blood rushing to my ears.

  After closing the distance, he gently raises a hand and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. His lips part as if he’s going to say something, and there’s a question in his eyes. But he doesn’t say a word.

  Instead, he cradles my face in his hands and kisses me so gently and with such restraint that I’m completely undone. And the only thing I know is that every cell in my body is vibrantly, brilliantly alive with wanting him. This beautiful man who’s kissing me with heartbreaking tenderness.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs in a husky whisper against my lips. “You know that? You have no idea, no idea how fucking beautiful you are.” Then he presses his lips to mine even more softly this time.

  After wanting him for so long, his calm, steady restraint is more than I can stand. I’m a fiery ball of need and I melt against his body, kissing him with everything I have. Crushing my breasts against his rock hard chest and tangling my fingers in his hair. He responds by deepening the kiss, plunging his tongue into my mouth and humming low in his throat.

  Then he moves his mouth down and weaves a scorching trail of kisses of down my neck. I tip my head back and sigh at the exquisite torture. The combination of soft lips and sandpapery stubble burning a trail of fire on my oversensitized skin.

  Then his hands grasp the globes of my ass and I feel myself being lifted up, my back pressed against the wall as he continues to rain kisses along my neck and collarbone.

  I wrap my legs around him and smooth my hands over his shoulders and biceps, savoring the feel of his powerful body suspending me in air. Delighting in the way his hard chest presses against mine, his strong arms supporting my weight as if it’s nothing, and the rich male scent of him all around as his mouth moves over my throat. The gentle rhythm of his hips pumping ever so slightly as something hard and massive presses against the softest part of me.

  For months I’ve wanted this man—craved him—and now that it’s happening, and it feels even more amazing than I ever imagined.

  His lips move lower and he pulls the cups of my bra down, worshiping my breasts with his mouth. As his tongue moves over my nipple, liquid heat shoots straight to my sex and my clit throbs. I grind myself against his hardness with abandon, needing him inside me to take away the vast, aching emptiness.

  He meets my eyes and gives me a half smile, “Patience, December. Good things come to those who wait.”

  “I don’t want to wait, I want to come,” I plead, breathless with wanting him.

  He groans low in his throat and then carries me to the bedroom. The next thing I know, his weight is pressing me into the mattress and his lips are on mine. His hand travels possessively down my body, clutching and kneading, while his knee nudges my thigh and parts my legs.

  I respond by wrapping my legs around him and pulling him closer to align my sex with his. I want to be as close to him as possible, and I want it now. I reach a hand down and…

  “Holy shit, Rio.” I blurt out as my fingers trace the massive column in his athletic shorts.

  He rolls to the side as I continue to move my hand over him, taking in his substantial length and girth. He leans back and peels off his shirt, revealing the most beautifully sculpted chest I’ve ever seen. His pecks and abs are perfectly defined and at the center of his chest is the slightest smattering of fuzz. Then he lowers his shorts, and my breath catches in my throat.

  Rio’s cock is enormous. The head is almost as big as a doorknob, and the shaft gets even thicker as it extends toward the base. It’s not heavily veined but smooth and straight with thick ridges up the center. It extends up past his belly button, pressing tight and flat against his belly.

  I glide my hand down his length until I reach the small nest of black curls at the base, then I stroke up again, admiring how small my hand looks in comparison.

  “I know I’m big,” he says apologetically. “I’ll be careful not to hurt you. We’ll make sure you’re ready first, okay?”

  It’s all I can do to nod as he traces his thumb over the hem of my panties, then slips it underneath the elastic. His fingers play lightly along my flesh, sliding along the slick folds. “Looks like you’re almost there,” he says in a low voice. “You’re wet for me. I like that.”

  Then he stands up beside the bed and proceeds to undress me with agonizing patience.

  First he slowly unclips and peels off each black stocking, carefully folding them and before setting them on my dresser. Next he lowers the garter belt and slips it down my thighs, and then he peels away my bra until I’m wearing nothing but a small black thong.

  As he lies down beside me, I can’t take his eyes off his massive cock. I reach out to touch it again, but he grabs my hand and pins it over my head. Then he captures my other wrist and holds them both in one hand. He gazes into my eyes while his free hand traces my wet slit through my silk panties. Back and forth, back and forth his fingers move until I spread my legs wide and whimper for more.

  He kisses my forehead, my hands still pinned above my head as he slowly peels my underwear down. I assist by sliding and wriggling to get out of them, then lifting my throbbing sex to meet his fingers. He slides a finger into me easily, then adds a second, then a third, moving them in and out while his thumb makes tiny circles around my clit. The friction and the stretching sensation are magnificent, but it’s not enough—I need more.

  “Mmmm,” he hums. “Let me look at you.” He lets go of my hands and slides down on the bed. Suddenly shy, I bring my
knees together but he stops me, spreading my legs wide and staring straight into my sex.

  It’s the first time a man has ever looked at me so intimately, and I feel nervous. But when Rio looks back up at me with lust contorting his features, puts his hand on his cock and pumps it, all my fear fades away.

  He moves lower on the bed. “God you’re beautiful,” he says, his breath a hot whisper against my sex.

  I close my eyes and moan when his tongue makes contact with my clit and his fingers spread me open. He gently licks around my opening, his tongue moving over every inch of my parted sex. I hear a soft moaning and realize it’s coming from me. It mingles with the soft wet sounds of Rio’s lips and tongue moving over my sex.

  He puts his fingers inside me again, first one, then another, then another. And I know that he’s stretching me, preparing me for him.

  The sensations are exquisite, and I feel an orgasm beginning to crest. But before it swells and crashes over me, Rio stops abruptly and pulls his hand away, ripping a cry of frustration from my throat.

  “Not yet,” he says sweetly, moving over me on the bed. “I’m going to take you now. We’ll come together, okay?”

  “Please—“

  I feel his wide tip nudge my opening and begin to slide in. Another delightful stretching sensation begins, but it’s more intense than the one he created with his fingers. He slowly glides forward, entering me inch by delectable inch. And just when I think I can’t take any more, I feel him slide another inch into me. He’s above me now, leaning on an elbow, his eyes fixed on mine. A lock of hair falls over his forehead, and once again I’m struck by how gorgeous he is.

  “You okay?” he asks as he pushes into me a little more without breaking our stare. “You’re really tight. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  I just nod, letting out a small gasp as he pushes forward the rest of the way. He doesn’t move then, just remains perfectly still while my body grows used to accommodating him.

  I feel myself relaxing around him, and then he begins a steady rocking motion. I hold onto his shoulders and close my eyes, enjoying the feel of his shaft gliding back and forth over my inner walls. I can tell by the tension in his muscles that he’s holding back, but I’m afraid to give him permission to pick up the pace, so I just smile up at him and say, “You’re so fucking sexy.”

  He smiles back, “I was just thinking the same thing about you.” He continues to glide in and out of me slowly, and I’m awash in sensation. Floating in space and time as he fills me over and over and over. Gradually he picks up his rhythm until he’s pistoning in and out of me. I hold him tighter and cling to him, allowing the blissful sensations to blossom and expand.

  His breathing grows thicker, coming out in short pants, and his movements more frenzied. When he leans down and captures my lips, a massive wave of pleasure breaks over me, and keeps breaking again and again. I scream my orgasm against his lips, and then he presses his face into the curve of my neck and groans, and I feel his cock spasm and jerk as he drains himself into me.

  When the spasming tapers off, he collapses on top of me, and we lay tangled in a heap, panting and spent.

  I absently run my hand over his bicep, coated with a cool sheen of sweat. He raises himself on an elbow and looks down with a mischievous half smile. “My sweet December.” He shakes his head. “Look what you’ve gone and done now.”

  Chapter 20

  Fearless

  I spend the next day alternating between euphoria when I mentally replay my hot encounter with Rio and panic about how I should act the next time I see him. We have a training session tomorrow and I have no idea how weird it’s going to be between us. I suspect very.

  I’d never hoped for anything more than a casual fling with him, but now that it’s actually happened, where do we go now?

  Do we act like it never happened and just go back to our normal routine? Do I make a few jokes about it the next time we see each other to alleviate any awkwardness?

  And most importantly, do we get to do it again?

  Maybe he’s wondering the same thing, because I’m pleasantly surprised when his name pops up on my cell phone.

  “December, what are you doing tonight?” he asks.

  Just obsessing over you. “Not much, why?”

  “Why don’t you come over to my place? I’ll cook for you, we can have dinner.”

  “I might be into that,” I say, congratulating myself on how cool I sound. Then I take down his address and agree to come over at 6:00.

  ***

  As I put on my makeup and try on a dozen outfits—pleased that half of them are too big on me—I start to worry that this isn’t a dinner date. Knowing Rio, he’s going to give me a little breakup speech about how everything we did was a mistake and he’d like to resume our trainer-client relationship.

  While I’d like the opportunity to bang Rio again, I know it’s inevitable that he’s going to shut me out, and it’ll probably happen tonight. So I take a moment to accept it, and then make up my mind to be casual and nonchalant about the whole thing. I’m not going to feel rejected or take it personally. Rio has always been painfully clear about not wanting a personal relationship before I’d seduced him—had I really seduced him?—so his rejection shouldn’t come as a surprise.

  I put on some red lipstick to with my tight red sweater and short denim skirt—if I’m going to get the old brush off, I may as well look hot to show him what he’s missing—and head out the door.

  Rio’s apartment is on the second floor of a newly constructed apartment block. When I ring the bell, he answers the door wearing jeans and a grey t-shirt with navy blue piping around the collar and sleeves. I realize that I’ve never seen him in anything other than his black Total Impact shirt and gym issued athletic shorts, and I appreciate this new look on him. It makes him seem more like a regular guy who exists outside the gym, not to mention that he fills out his jeans handsomely.

  “Did you find the place okay?” he asks as he ushers me in. The kitchen opens up into the living room, so we make small talk while he works on dinner and I sit on the couch taking in his place.

  It’s neatly furnished in a way that makes it look barely lived in. And I realize there’s something impersonal about it, like a hotel room. Flat screen TV, glass coffee table, black leather couch, a few fitness magazines here and there. But there’s an absence of personal touches. No framed pictures of family members. No pictures on the bare off-white walls— not even generic wall art.

  Just when I’m starting to wonder if Rio is a robot, a mangy looking grey cat comes out from behind the couch. At least, I think it’s a cat. It looks more like road kill since its missing most of its tail and an entire ear.

  “Wow, what happened to this little guy?”

  Rio looks out at me while draining a steaming pot. “That’s Fearless,” he says, setting the pot down. “He was the stray who used to run the neighborhood. Always getting into fights. Driving away other males. Mating with the ladies. You know, the good life.” Rio tastes something from a spoon, then reaches for a pepper grinder. “Then one day, like all great fighters, he faced a more powerful opponent and was defeated, forcing him to retire. Though in his defense, I think it was a raccoon that finally got him, which is way out of his weight class.”

  I sit on the couch and stare down at Fearless, who’s staring up at me like he’s not impressed.

  “One day I found him curled up behind the garbage cans,” Rio continues. “He was bloody, his ear had been torn off, and his tail was partially missing and completely skinned. He’d crawled off to die, but I found him, put him in a box and took him to the vet. The vet said he probably wouldn’t survive and recommended that he be put to sleep, but I knew he was a fighter, so I got him stitched up and pumped him full antibiotics, and look at him now.”

  I reach down to pet him but he flinches and runs away.

  “For the longest time, I didn’t know if he was going to make it. I was calling him Earless at the time. You
know, on account of his ear. But then he pulled through and that’s when I changed his name to something more courageous. And that’s the story of Fearless.”

  I watch Rio’s back as he opens the oven and peers into it. “I know why you like him,” I say. “He’s the cat version of you. He grew up alone without a family. Acted like a manwhore. Got into fights on the mean streets. But he survived it and now he lives here in this sweet bachelor pad.”

  “Huh. I never thought of it that way.”

  “You’re not missing any body parts though. I can attest to that. If anything, you’ve got a little something extra.”

  Our eyes meet and we both smile, then he looks down almost shyly and laughs. And I’m relieved that there’s no weirdness between us after what happened yesterday.