by A. M. Wilson
“This looks nice,” I say, eyeing the outdoor patio.
“We’re just grabbing a quick bite before we go have some fun.”
We walk hand-in-hand to the counter and place our orders. We both choose a deli type sandwich, which appears to be their specialty. “Go ahead and grab a seat. I’ll meet you outside,” he tells me while pulling out his credit card.
I walk out to the patio, sitting at one of the tables with an umbrella. It’s an uncharacteristically hot April day; the sun is beating down in a cloudless sky. I spot Elias walking over with a tray, looking sexy as all get out. He has on a pair of jeans that highlight his muscular thighs, and a red striped button down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He sits down next to me, rather than across from me—a habit he’s repeated ever since that first date. He rests his hand casually on my knee, choosing to eat one handed instead.
Picking up my sandwich, a combination of turkey and cheddar, spicy honey mustard, and homemade bread, I take a huge first bite. “How do you find all these awesome places to eat? I think this is the best sandwich I’ve ever had,” I say, trying not to moan at the explosion of flavors in my mouth. I think we just discovered my new favorite lunch stop.
Elias shrugs around his own bite. “I’ve lived here my entire life. It’d be a shame not to eat local when there are so many options.”
“MmHm,” I agree. “I look forward to learning about all the secret sweet spots.”
Was I too forward? I didn’t think so, but Elias’s posture freezes stiffly. Quicker than I can blink, though, he’s relaxed again. I must have imagined it.
“Better finish up. We’re running out of daylight, and we’re gonna need it.”
I look over and see he’s nearly finished. The conversation lulls while I finish as quickly as possible without looking like a total slob.
“C’mon. Let’s change your shoes. I want to bring you to one of my favorite places.”
“Where are we?” I ask when we pull into a vacant parking lot. From my view, it looks like a park or nature trail. Across from the lot is a huge open field, and the other side is nothing but trees.
“Ever heard of disc golf?” Elias asks before he exits the car. I use the moment alone to change into my tennis shoes before following him out. He pulls a black backpack from the trunk.
“I haven’t. Is that what we’re doing?”
He reaches for my hand, and I give it to him, pressing my palm tightly against his. For some reason my warning bells are going off. We’re alone in the fading daylight, and he’s leading me towards the trees. I trust him. I mean, as much as one can trust someone they’ve known about a week. But my anxiety and paranoia are flaring up like a bad rash.
I slow my gait. “Is this safe?” My voice comes out quiet and a tad too shaky for my liking.
“Of course,” he replies. Elias stops us at the trail opening into the forest and cups my cheeks with both hands. His rough callouses soothing against my sensitized skin. “I would never let anything hurt you. Trust me. Besides, the scariest things on this course are a bunch of stoners wielding discs. You have nothing to worry about, okay?”
I nod stiffly, and he kisses my forehead.
“We don’t have a lot of time, because it’s getting dark. We can play a few holes though.”
“I don’t know how to play. You’ll have to teach me.”
He gives me a devilish grin. “I know.”
We walk a few dozen feet before reaching a wooden pole in the ground with a number ONE carved into the front and painted a bright yellow. Elias sets his bag on the ground, digging around until he extracts two discs. One is bright orange with a thin, sharp-angled, black lip around the rim, and the other is similar except it’s a lime green. He hands me the orange one and then stands next to me, facing into the trees.
“Do you see the metal basket about three hundred feet away? Off to the left of the trail? That’s the goal.”
Squinting in the evening sun, I spot the basket. “It looks small. You’re supposed to hit that?” The basket stands a few feet off the ground by a metal pole sticking vertically out of the dirt. Running from the top of the goal to the edges of the basket are a dozen or so metal chains.
“Well, you’re supposed to try to hit it. But don’t worry. Plenty of people miss. The scoring is sort of like golf. You count how many throws it takes to make it in the goal. See this number here?” he asks, tapping the wooden pole with the ONE on it. I didn’t notice the other numbers before. “This tells you how far away the basket is. So this here is 327 feet. And this number means it’s par three.”
“I’m following so far,” I reply. Sounds simple to me, and I can’t deny that it looks like fun. In high school, I was active in sports and had a natural competitive streak. My hobbies disappeared after I met Travis, though. He was more interested in computer or video games. Eventually, I let those become my hobbies too. I can already feel my competitiveness rising to the surface.
“I’m going to get off my first throw, and then you can try. Watch me.”
Elias takes a few steps back behind the line painted on the ground, so I back up as well. Immediately, it becomes clear that this is a big part of his life. The way that he’s holding the disc, stretching his arm back and forth in front of him a few times as if visualizing the shot. His knees are slightly bent, and he seems to bounce on the balls of his feet. He takes about three steps forward, bringing the disc back before snapping his arm and sending the disc sailing through the trees. I almost lose sight of it, it moves so quickly. He must practice often.
“That looked like a good one to me!” I exclaim, the thrill of doing something new racing through my bloodstream.
He grins and stalks toward me. “I’m glad you think so. It felt pretty good.” With my mind completely on spotting where his disc landed, I let out a huff when Elias grabs my hips firmly in his hands and pulls me tightly against him. He threads his left hand through my hair, gripping it tightly at the base of my skull, and presses his lips hotly against my own. My eyes slam closed, and he whispers there, “Your turn.”
My eyes crack open to half-mast. I lick my lips while trying to calm my heaving lungs. “What was that for?”
The weight of his hands settle on my shoulders. He spins me around to face the goal once more. “I’m just making things interesting,” he says while sliding his nose along my neck.
If this were a cartoon, now would be the time of the audible gulp. I am so screwed.
My body is shaking in laughter as we make our way to the fourth tee. Turns out, disc golf is a lot harder than it looks. It takes much more skill that simply throwing a disc at a metal basket.
“You’ve got to loosen up. You’re using your arm way too much. Your torso should be doing most of the work, and as you swing your arm around, you need to snap your wrist.”
“Do you know how hard it is to control that many parts of my body at the same time, all doing different things?” I tease.
He runs a hand through his messy hair. “Actually, yes. We are playing the same game, you know.”
“I think it’s safe to say I’m not a natural.”
“I’d have to agree.” The words are playful, but as we stand there in the early stages of twilight, his eyes flare with a look that translates straight into lust. One look sends my heart into a chaotic frenzy. One look fills my body with a need I haven’t felt in so long, I thought the mechanism was broken.
“Elias,” I whisper.
“Marlee,” he replies seconds before he closes the gap between us in two long strides. He wraps me tightly in his arms, and I clutch his shoulders for support as he lifts me. Wrapping my legs around his trim waist, I tangle my fingers into his sweat-dampened strands. I hum with the need racing through me.
Lips against lips, tongue against tongue, we come together with a bruising force of want. My ears buzz with silence—not the chirp of a bird or the shift of a leaf registers. All I can focus on is Elias, and how he makes me feel. I barely register the
shift of our bodies, when suddenly, he’s kneeling above me and lowering me gently to the grass.
“I want you. I want you so damn bad. Tell me no, or this is happening.” His body is rigid with the force of holding himself away from me.
I look up through hooded eyes at the darkened sky, the canopy of trees opened slightly, giving a glimpse of the night’s first stars. Elias hovers above me, and I can’t help thinking about how right this feels. How calm the sight of him makes me. My voice doesn’t waver from its steady pitch when I reply, “Then take me.”
He groans deeply with his reply, “Thank Christ.”
That’s all it takes. Two short sentences before we’re a mass of limbs and clothing, clawing and grasping at whatever we can reach. He leans down and with his teeth, grazes my nipple through my shirt. I arch into him and run my hands up and down the length of his toned back. Following the circle of his leather belt, I find the metal clasp in the front and work on loosening it.
Elias takes over, yanks his pants down his hips, frees his erection, and rolls on a condom. The darkness is clouding my sight, but my other senses take over. I can feel the hot length of his cock pressing against my thigh.
Circling my fingers around his wide girth, I give him a tight squeeze.
“Fuck. This is going to be fast, Marlee. You ready?”
“Yes,” I pant. My hand starts to move from his length to unbutton my pants. Elias catches it and wraps my dainty fingers back around him, squeezing them in warning.
“Stay,” he commands in the deep timbre of his voice. Instead, his hands move to unfasten my pants and yank down the zipper. As soon is the material loosens, he reaches around to the back of my hips, fists the material of my pants and panties, and in one strong move, yanks them both down my legs to about my knees.
I start to wiggle to shimmy out of my clothing, but Elias gives me a sharp tap on the outside of my right thigh. “I said stay.”
I can’t help myself. The tone, his command, being trussed up by my own clothing; everything about this situation has me dripping wet, and he hasn’t even touched me there yet. My hips give a little wiggle in anticipation, and with my hand still wrapped around his dick, I give him a few tight pumps.
“Fuck, you little minx. Put me in you.”
My body flushes as my temperature rises. He shifts his hips closer, and using my own hand, I guide him to my opening. The tip of his erection enters me, and I moan at the feeling. It’s been so long, I forgot how good it feels to be stretched and worked at the core.
“More, please,” I pant, more wanton that I’ve ever been.
True to his word, Elias buries himself to the root before he takes off in a sprint. My legs bend against my chest, and he holds them off to the side so he can look at me. His hips rock and slam against my ass as he takes me hard.
I never knew it could be like this. I never knew it could put my head in such a space where I can’t think, can’t focus on anything except the feel of him moving inside of me. Every pass of his cock makes me acutely aware of how my body is coming to life beneath his. Everything fades to white noise in the background, and all I can see is him.
He leans down and grazes my nipple with his teeth again. My whole body quivers beneath his. My legs tremble from the force of him taking me and my impending climax coiling tight in my belly.
“I can feel it. I feel it too. It’s going to be good,” he grunts. His words punctuated by his sharp thrusts. He snakes his hand between my confined legs and circles my clit with his thumb.
“Oh!” I cry out, my head beginning to whip back and forth uncontrollably. The potency of my climax begins to quake in my muscles.
“Fuck, that’s it, Marlee.”
“Elias,” I whimper when the full force of my orgasm hits me. After the first few spasms of my vagina, I feel him tumble after me with a loud groan. When he’s finally done, he pushes my legs to the side, causing my body to roll over, and spoon me on the ground as our breathing slows. With each rise and fall of his chest, I feel myself coming back to reality and find myself, once again, staring at the darkened night sky.
“Did that really just happen?” I ask in a small voice, thinking I must have dreamed the entire thing. I’ve never even had a one-night stand, let alone be adventurous enough to have sex in a public place.
He chuckles, the vibrations tickling the skin of my neck. “Sure did. Come on. Let’s get you off the ground.”
We fix our clothes after I awkwardly try to stand with my pants still binding my legs together, and he grabs his disc bag and leads us to the car.
Before I get out at my apartment, we share a heated kiss that turns into a full-blown make out session. Elias pulls away, resting his forehead against mine as we catch our breath. He swipes my lower lip with the pad of his thumb.
“Thank you for tonight,” I tell him in a breathy voice.
“Thank you for coming with me. I like taking you to experience new things.”
It would appear that statement is true for the both of us.
“I better get inside. Goodnight.” I clasp the door handle, but he stops me when his fingers cup my throat and slide around to the side of my neck. He presses his lips tightly to my forehead.
“Goodnight, sweet Marlee.”
Have you ever felt a moment that you know is life changing, even if you haven’t seen the result yet? Tonight was one of those moments. I knew down to the molecules that bound together to create me that my life was about to change. The problem is I don’t know whether it’s a good thing or bad.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“So, did you guys have sex yet?” Carly asks me on the phone after work a week later. We haven’t connected in a while as I’ve been spending most my free time with Elias, so she called to check in. Obviously, she has other things on her mind as well.
“Why would you ask that? What does it matter?” My voice sounds more hysterical than I intend it to. “It’s been a few weeks, Carly. That’s not an insanely long time.”
“Because I saw the way you were dancing the night at the club where you first met. I find it hard to believe you haven’t hit that yet.”
“But we weren’t dating then, just dancing…
“If that’s what you call ‘just dancing,’ I’m afraid to see what you think dirty dancing is,” she throws back at me.
“Oh shut up. You’re like a teenaged boy.” I roll my eyes even though she can’t see them through the phone.
“Well, what are you waiting for? It’s not like you’re a virgin. This isn’t high school, its real life. People don’t wait half a year to climb into bed together. I know you’re cautious because of everything that happened with Travis, but not all guys are like him.”
“Since when did you become so knowledgeable about adult relationships? You’re affairs last two weeks if that.”
“Exactly how I like them,” she retorts, and I can picture her smirking into her phone. Carly definitely enjoys her string-less encounters. “Just be careful. Men who are smoking hot probably aren’t used to waiting around to get laid.”
“Thanks for the moral support,” I reply with a snort. “For your nosy information, we have had sex. Once. And I’m only telling you because I love you even though you’re aggravating.”
“I knew it!” she squeals across the line. “I just knew you couldn’t be spending all your time with that hottie and not rub your coochie all over him.”
“Ugh. You’re sick, you know that?”
“And yet, you love me.”
I roll my eyes again. “Count yourself lucky. I may reconsider,” I respond. “Look, I’ve got to get going. I’ve been skipping the gym lately. Let’s go shopping this weekend or something.”
“Sure thing, love. I’ll text you.”
After I hang up the call, I grab my gym bag and head out the door. Damn Carly for planting the idea of sex in my head again. It’s not that I haven’t thought about it, because I have. It’s hard not to think about it when I spend most my free time with
someone who’s body screams sex. I’m just afraid of that next step.
I’ve never had casual sex before, and it opens up an entire new level of vulnerability in me that I’m not sure how to handle. We’ve only had sex the one time, and I can’t help but wonder what Elias thinks about this. He is probably used to getting laid whenever he wants, and here I am making him wait. The familiar burn of anxiety awakens low in my stomach, radiating outward, swallowing my logic and regurgitating doubt in its place.
My phone beeps with an incoming text message, interrupting my insecurities. I wait until I park at the gym to read it.
Elias: My place or yours?
I hadn’t thought we were going to hang out again tonight, but now that I’m feeling all of this doubt, I want to spend the time with him to see if I can sense if anything is wrong. So I text back: Mine. At the gym now. Give me two hours.
Elias arrives around 7:30, hair still damp from a recent shower, a backpack slung over his shoulder. He’s looking glorious in a pair of low hanging sweat pants and a fitted black tee clinging to his sculpted chest and biceps. My mouth waters while taking in the sight, eyes roaming over him from head to toe until they freeze on the backpack. Eyeing it suspiciously, I ask, “What’s that for?” referencing with a nod of my head.
He shrugs, slinging the bag onto the couch.
“I brought over some movies. I wasn’t sure what your collection looked like, or if you even had one.” He grins at me, his dimple dancing prominently in his left cheek.
I glare holes into his head. “I have a small collection,” I huff.
“Really? Hit me with it.”
“Um. Titanic. The Notebook. Twilight.” Elias’s lips twitch in the corners. “Good Will Hunting. Back to the Future. The Big Lebowski.”
“Babe,” he chokes out through a smothered laugh.
“Wait! I have Rain Man!”
“I think you should check the backpack.”
“What’s wrong with my collection?” I ask, slightly annoyed. My movies are great.
