by Roxie Odell
Thomas’s pace was surer and more assertive this time, and with each stroke he enflamed her pleasure, threatening to jolt her orgasm back to life. Cheri slumped against the mattress, so sweetly sensitive to his every touch and pressure.
She reached between the two of them and touched herself. She brought herself to the edge, then let up. It was like being on a very fine drug. She sucked in, her breath raking her teeth as she tried to hold off. She looked up and beheld Thomas’s gorgeous face as his passion climbed, transforming him. His eyes were glossed over, trancelike. She concocted a counter-rhythm of her own, trying to push him to his own crescendo. She bucked her hips wantonly, to turn him on just a little bit more.
Thomas’s body shook within her, shivering in response to the pleasure she gave him. That, in and of itself, was another turn-on for Cheri, and this time she didn’t hold back. Instead, she released to her second climax, which sent Thomas tumbling in total rapture. They writhed on the mattress, erupting simultaneously with sweet orgasm. Their bodies trembled, reverberating pleasured waves through them.
When Cheri finally floated back to earth, she grabbed a blanket and rolled around with glee. “Oh, my goodness,” she declared. “Yes!”
“Yes?” he asked.
“We have officially christened my bed,” she informed him.
“What does that mean exactly?” he asked, enveloping her in his arms.
“It means I’ve never had sex in this bed,” she replied, laughter in her voice.
“And how long have you had this place?” he asked, his hand swimming across her lithe frame as they talked.
She smiled, noting that his touch became more intense as they spoke; even their conversation was turning them both on again. “Almost two years,” she said.
“You mentioned rodeos before.”
“So?”
“So…anywhere in the house?” he asked, with some disbelief
“Nope,” she rasped.
“When was the last time you had sex?”
Cheri couldn’t help but put the ball back into his court, but she did it gently and with levity, trying to make a point. “I’ll answer that when you do, Mr. Graham,” she said. “I’ve got a feeling I don’t wanna know, though.”
Thomas let his torso free-fall to the mattress. “Ugh,” he exclaimed. “Talk about a buzzkill.”
The room was momentarily quiet as it seemed Thomas had to collect his thoughts, something Cheri didn’t quite know how to take.
“Well,” he said finally, “I’ve avoided relationships since I got out of jail. I admit I’ve used sex as a bit of a painkiller at times, a diversion. I just couldn’t believe I sank so low, couldn’t wrap my head around it. I thought I’d keep my life as square as I keep my house and my business by just having casual sex.” He paused and touched her arm tenderly. “Look, I’m not sure rehashing the details of my escapades—and yes, that was all they were—is a smart move. I can promise you those days are over,” he said emphatically.
“So you won’t tell me?” She pressed her body closer to his. “Not even—”
“Na,” he said, cutting her off. “It’s not because I’m trying to be dishonest. It’s just for your own good. Like you said, you probably don’t want to know the details. It’s just morbid curiosity, and I don’t think it’d do either of us any good,” he said, his words a bit too unfiltered for her taste.
“You know, you’re so blunt and direct sometimes and so mysterious and secretive others.”
“Yeah, well, I’m quite the enigma,” he joked. “Anyway, I think we’ll get used to each other in time.”
“I guess.” She was glad that he was at least willing to try.
“Tell me, as a Southerner, do you make a mean sweet tea? I bet you’ve got a pitcher of it in your fridge right now, don’t you?” he teased.
“Actually, I don’t.” she said. “I’m not all that Southern. Just an occasional twang. I’m from Virginia, remember?”
“Occasional?” he scoffed.
“Well, since we are changing the subject,” she said randomly, as his smooth transition had not caught her off guard, “can I tell you something?”
“By all means.”
“I really like that motorcycle of yours.”
Thomas erupted in laughter and pulled Cheri in toward him, as closely as he could.
Chapter 13
Since Thomas was a carpenter, he was very interested in the details and schematics of Cheri’s house. Like all the old dwellings in the neighborhood, hers had some very cool, unique features. The bedroom offered a widow’s walk, and the next morning she opened the French double-doors to show it to him.
“Ooh.” He gasped, more a noise of warning than awe. “Baby, this is not good.”
“Why not? I think it’s great.”
“Well, you can step out here because you’re a bantam weight, but if a couple average-sized folks step out there, they’re gonna go for a swan-dive. That thing will tear right off the face of your home,” he said, pointing out the weaker areas. “Dry rot. The rust on this wrought iron has eaten the rail clear through.” He pointed and bent to examine it closer.
Cheri sighed, deeply disappointed. “That’s too bad. I was hoping we could christen that, too.”
He laughed and wrapped his arm around her, and his biceps pressed firmly into her as he flexed. “We can certainly do that, but it has to be fixed first, my little exhibitionist. Fortunately, you know a good contractor who will take payment out in trade.”
“Goodness,” she remarked.
“Goodness will have nothing to do with it,” he said wickedly.
They then embarked on what Thomas called a walk-through, and he dutifully noted all the things in the house that required immediate attention.
“I didn’t realize it was in such shambles,” she said, disappointed.
“Well, like I said, you’re lucky to know a contractor. Just pick a time, and I’ll send a couple guys out to knock out this to-do list while you and I go on a road trip for a couple days.”
“A road trip? On the bike?” she asked hopefully, already fantasizing about it.
“Of course!”
“That sounds wonderful,” she said, blown away by the invitation and the idea of a short getaway with him.
“Now that I think about it, it might take more like a week to get the bulk of it done.”
“I’d like to pay you.”
“I’m not sure you’d say that if I showed you an actual bill,” he chuckled, “but I’m sure we can work something out.”
His wink sealed the deal.
***
Cheri put in for a week off, and she and Thomas booked a room in the Georgetown Inn and planned a series of day trips on the bike. They rode through Rock Creek Park and the C&O Canal trail. It seemed it would go on forever, but they stayed out only as long as their snacks held out, until their appetites lured them back into the beautiful, historic part of the nation’s capital. The weather was particularly hot, but the breeze of the motorcycle ride made it all tolerable.
Cheri was so proud to ride on the back of his bike. She was instantly addicted to the sensation of the smooth asphalt, carrying them along under canopies of trees. She never tired of the sight of the sunlight spraying through the leaves and the gorgeous scenery flying by them.
On the endless C&O Canal trail, the scenery changed from rural to urban to suburban back to rural, dotted here and there with serene, beautiful well-kept parks. They enjoyed a long, quiet ride when Thomas veered down to a picnic area, full of tables and a water fountain, beneath a small grove of shade trees. The drive from the main path to the table had a quick sudden drop that Cheri felt in her stomach.
“Ooh,” she squealed.
“Hold on tight!” Thomas ordered.
He didn’t have to tell her twice; any chance Cheri had to do that, she was happy to oblige. He was such an affectionate person, and she felt safe with him, open enough to take as much as he would give her. She especially liked resti
ng her head on his back when they came to the crossroads. She soaked up the warmth and the flow between them, a feeling only they could conjure. It was better than sunbathing.
Thomas parked the bike, and they unpacked their lunch on the table. There was hardly a soul around as the two sat on the top of the table, enjoying the beauty of the park, nibbling on chocolate cookies and drinking bottled iced tea. The whole thing made her feel lazy, and she lay back on the tabletop to soak up the sunshine.
His fingers fished under the hem of her shirt and grazed her flat, ticklish stomach. He reached gently upward, until he found the bottom curve of her breast, and stroked her gingerly there. The thrill of his touch turned her nipples to stone. He pushed her shirt up, allowing the warm sun to bathe her skin with light and heat. There was something so decadent about being exposed like that in the great outdoors, and it sent shivers through Cheri. She didn’t even care if anyone saw them.
He arched downward and took her nipple into his mouth, nearly burning her with the hot wetness. She clutched his head and nestled her fingers in his thick mop of hair. She let her hands glide up and down his arms until she found his hands, then guided him to sit on the bench. Their backs were facing the nearby footpath, but they were completely alone, save for a couple of squirrels which just looked at them curiously for a moment, then skittered up a tree.
As she knelt in the grass, Thomas knew exactly what she intended to do, and he lowered his jeans to give her access. Cheri took the stone hardness of his length in her hands. His skin was so incredibly smooth as she worked her grip easily up and down before lowering her mouth to him.
Thomas’s taste was sweet and salty. She constricted her lips around his shaft, drawing her cheeks as taut as she could make them. With the motion of a piston Cheri moved downward, taking in as much of him as she could.
His guttural moans tumbled across the grass. His hold tightened, his powerful hands tangling in her hair. Cheri braced herself, keeping one palm flat on his muscled thigh and one hand on him. Her fingers wrapped around the base of him while her mouth worked for his ultimate pleasure. She mixed up her rhythm playfully, until she settled on a steady, purposeful pulse. She felt his body tense in response, as if seizing with the first waves of rapture. He drew in a very stiff breath through his nostrils. His hands left her head, and he lifted his hips and pumped lightly into her mouth.
There was something so empowering in pleasuring him that way. Through her lowered lids, she stole glimpses of his perfect body, and that sent erotic waves through her. She faltered under the sexual intoxication, but she knew him well, and he was about to cum. His strong hand now covered her, and he nudged her upward. She buried her lips in the crook of his neck, flicking her tongue along its powerful curve as he exploded with ecstasy. The sunlight starred in her eyes at that very moment, putting a perfect finish on their sensual moment.
They climbed back to the top of the picnic table, and each enjoyed a fresh, juicy, ripe peach, nice and cold since they’d thought to keep the fruit on ice.
“Delicious,” Thomas said as he licked a sweet dribble from his mouth.
“You’re telling me,” Cheri said with a wink.
A short while later, on the rumbling Harley, Thomas and Cheri headed back to Georgetown, doped and dazed with each other and the delights of their day.
Chapter 14
By the time they got back into Georgetown, the day had cooled to a very pleasant, soft temperature. Thomas parked his bike on the street, and they walked along the cobblestone sidewalk hand in hand, window-shopping in the artsy town.
“You know, even though I live here,” Cheri remarked, “I sure haven’t explored the place much. I forgot how cool it is.”
“It used to be better, before the chains and mall stores invaded, but it’s still got its charm.”
While it was a cute little town, the shops had taken on a certain sameness. Perhaps it was because Cheri was tired from her adventurous day, but she had her fill fairly quickly, and it didn’t take long for her to stop paying attention to the baubles and goods in the store windows. Thomas, on the other hand, spotted something that made his eyes light up, and he dashed into the store.
Cheri watched attentively as he requested that the shop salesperson help him remove something from the storefront mannequin. He seemed very excited about it, but she had no idea what had him so worked up.
“Here,” he said, handing a small bag to her after the salesperson rang up his purchase. “For you.” He then reached into the bag, pulled out a silver chain, and fiddled with the clasp to drape it around her neck.
The cold of the metal made Cheri shiver, and her nipples were instantly hard. They grew even harder when Thomas covertly grazed her pebbled tips through the light summer fabric of her shirt. She held the pendant up to examine it, and the little silver bell touched her deeply.
“A silver bell for a Southern belle,” he said to Cheri. “You like it?”
“I love it,” she said, smiling and blushing. “Thank you.”
Thomas tipped Cheri’s chin with his finger and poised her for a kiss. She could have sworn she heard the shopkeeper sigh, but she couldn’t blame anyone for doing so in such a romantic moment.
They went back out to the street and strolled some more. This time Cheri was very alert, focused on the special moment they had just shared and the great little gift he’d placed around her neck.
“Hey, how’d you like a cuppa joe, maybe with a little somethin’ somethin’ in it?” he asked. “There are some great little coffee shops around here. I know they make those fancy latte things you like.”
“Probably should eat, too,” she said, feeling famished and surprised that riding a bike had taken so much out of her.
“No problem. We can kill two birds with one stone here,” he replied, smiling as he pointed up at the marquis for a place called Martin’s Tavern, a very quaint, colonial-looking tavern with window signs that promised a hearty menu. “Ever been here?” he asked.
“No,” she said, but her stomach answered with a growl. “It looks good, though. You really know this town, huh?”
“Born and raised,” he replied. “Went to International School, College at Georgetown.”
Cheri was suddenly a little intimidated, as Georgetown had a reputation for affluence, for wealth she couldn’t imagine. It was very sweet town, but that fact alone sort of turned her off, and it was one of the reasons she didn’t visit it more often. “Rich kid, then?”
He hemmed at the question, as if he was a little embarrassed to answer. “I guess,” he said humbly. “I’ve gotta admit, I didn’t have it too rough, but still…” There was a hint of disappointment in Thomas’s eyes when he said it. He didn’t look like a guy who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth; perhaps he had a silver lighter in his hand, but he didn’t seem like a person of privilege.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” she said tenderly. She wanted to press him about his reaction to her question, but she didn’t want to put a damper on the wonderful evening they were sharing. She didn’t feel at danger around him, but something in his voice, some odd hesitation whenever she asked him about his past, led her to believe it was far more troubled beyond what he had revealed to her.
At least he has good taste, she thought as they walked into Martin’s Tavern. First Carmine’s, and now this place. She instantly liked the cool vibe of the place, the low lights and the well-polished pine panels that gave it a spectacularly homey feel. Not only that, but the aroma of the wonderful cuisine sent her stomach into another chorus of growls and groans.
“Bar or table?” he asked.
“Let’s start at the bar.”
“Start?” he teased. “Do I have a wild woman on my hands?” He lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered softly, “Of course, I don’t really have to ask after that little picnic of yours today, now do I?”
Cheri blushed, paralyzed with erotic recall. She stood so still that he had to nudge her to the bar, till she
snapped out of it. He climbed onto a barstool with ease, but it took a little more effort from Cheri, with her much shorter legs.
“Two Irish coffees,” he ordered, then turned to ask her, “Whipped cream?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Whipped and a little sugar on each,” he said to the bartender.
“Comin’ right up,” the barkeep said, then walked away.
“Sugar, huh?”
“It’s the best. The cream makes the crystals swell. It’s so delicious.”
“Hmm. Sounds like somebody’s got a sweet tooth.”
He turned and winked, and his hazel eyes literally sparkled as he did. Cheri slumped a little, bowled over by his perfection. She leaned in and kissed him softly and briefly.
The bartender broke them up when he set a couple very prissy-looking coffees in front of them.
Cheri took a sip, and the whiskey warmed her mouth.
Thomas kissed her again, sweeping her mouth with his tongue.
“What are you doing?” she asked, giggling.
“I’d rather taste it from you.”
Before Cheri could summon a response to that, a voice came from behind them and asked, “Hey, Graham, how’s it going, buddy?”
Thomas’s face changed completely. It hardened as he looked at the tall, slightly out-of-shape figure looming behind them. “Ben,” he said gruffly.
“Gonna introduce me or not?” Ben asked facetiously, looking at Cheri with obvious inappropriate thoughts lingering in his mind.
Thomas just glared at him. His look was razor-sharp, so intense and foreboding that even Cheri wanted to take a step back. He said nothing more to the man.
“Okay, I get it,” Ben said, and eventually walked away with a grin on his face.
