by Amber Lin
Colin, however, settled down between my open legs like he planned to stay. I felt too self-conscious to say anything at all, especially while he was focused on such an intimate place. I couldn’t help but tense up.
He kissed the inside of my thigh, his fingers trailing the path of his mouth. He switched to the other thigh, and only when my hips tilted up slightly did he move closer to my center. He licked through my folds, the soft contact startling. His fingers played there too, but he didn’t ram his fingers inside me or press my clit. He just licked and suckled and dipped his tongue inside to lap at the wetness pooling there.
It was almost like he wasn’t trying to get me to come. In my experience a guy would aim for the good parts and try to get me off as fast as possible, if he even bothered. But Colin licked me like he had all the time in the world. He wasn’t speeding up or pushing me on.
The room was silent except for the wet sounds from his mouth on me. The pressure of having to perform an orgasm eased with his leisurely pace. He didn’t seem to be expecting me to come now, so it was okay that I didn’t. I relaxed into the pleasure, luxuriating in this new sort of worship. God, was this why women loved getting oral sex?
Liquid released from inside me and slid out onto his tongue. He moaned. He actually moaned like…I don’t know, like it tasted good. As if the taste of me had turned him on. Damn, that turned me on right back.
For all that I liked giving head, I’d never thought a man could really want to do it to me. He wouldn’t like the taste or his tongue would get tired or he’d get bored, but Colin didn’t seem to be thinking any of those things. The slow, languid way he licked me again and again spoke of someone who was enjoying himself.
And then, without me having to fake it, my hips rocked in a thrusting motion. He hadn’t sped up, but the sensations of his mouth and his own appreciation of the act propelled me toward orgasm. I didn’t want it to end.
Colin read my body’s pleas and moved his mouth up to my clit. He sucked and slid his finger inside me, using the rhythm of my hips as a guide. So damned good. I couldn’t help the moans that came out of my mouth. I’d heard the phrase “I’d die if he stopped,” and I’d never understood it before now. I wouldn’t have died if he’d stopped, but I just might have cried.
I’d had sex lots of times, but I’d never had a lover so in tune with what my body wanted. It was a conversation, one my mind was barely aware of, but my body knew instinctively.
He played me like he already knew me. He didn’t tease me, not withholding my climax or any of that tantric shit, for which I might have had to kill him. But neither did he rush me toward climax. It was as if his entire purpose had narrowed to drawing out my moans.
My whole body went taut, muscles tight, hips flexed up to push against his mouth. My inner muscles clenched at his fingers, pulling them deeper. My breath stopped, and all I could do was make a choking sound. I came and came and came; all I could think was that I’d found something I’d lost.
Colin stroked me through my climax. I jerked violently when his tongue flicked over my clit one last time, and he withdrew his fingers. I expected him to put his cock inside me. Instead he climbed up my body and lay beside me.
He wasn’t going to do it.
I felt vulnerable right then, and he knew it. He was going to try to be honorable or something. I didn’t want that. I couldn’t believe in it.
His cock looked dark and thick and wet at the tip. Something softened in a deep, cold place inside my chest that he was willing to postpone his pleasure for my ridiculous personal shit. That he would even know I had any personal shit when this was just a random hookup.
But no, I wanted to please him. He let me push him fully onto his back. I climbed over him and teased him into an openmouthed kiss, ran my hands down his chest. I wanted to give him something, and this was all I had to give.
I’d thought he wanted to be submissive to me, from his gentleness, the way he had worshipped me during oral sex, and the way he was pliant when I pushed him over. It wasn’t a role I’d have thought I’d like, but I found myself willing to go there for him. I already knew I’d go down on him. I was looking forward to blowing his mind, along with his cock.
But as I started trailing my kisses downward, my intention clear, he stopped me and shook his head slightly. I’d never had a man turn down a blowjob before. I’d never heard of it happening, not during sex, not when it was free. It flustered me, the way he could do anything to me but he chose to make me feel good.
He arranged me again, so that I was straddling his hips with my legs on either side of him, resting my hands on his chest. His arousal bobbed up toward my hanging breasts.
Colin reached across the bed to his jeans and pulled a condom out of his wallet. He slipped it on and maneuvered my hips onto his erection, then down, slowly. The tautness of his face spoke of urgency, but he held my hips still. We were on his time.
At last he rocked up with tiny thrusts. When I caught the rhythm on my own, he released my hips and smoothed one hand back along my ass. The other came up to my breasts, stroking them, tweaking them.
I could feel the difference in his touch from before. He wasn’t trying to get me off now. He was playing with me for his own pleasure. I leaned into his touch, and he sucked my nipple into his mouth.
My arousal built, taunting me, and I tried to speed up.
His hand tightened on my ass. No, not yet.
I relaxed into the rocking motion as the pleasure between my legs grew. This was nothing like the sex I’d had before. It was more like a dance or even a meditation. I had no idea how much time passed, but when my legs got sore and tingly, he rolled us over.
He surged into me deeper, in an aggressive rhythm that took me faster and harder. I pulled my legs higher and curled my hands lightly on his neck, opening my body in supplication. I wasn’t an active participant any longer. I couldn’t help him or even react—I could only take it.
I came again, and this time it wasn’t in a blinding explosion but a soft wave. Not a crest but a hum of pleasure, accented with each of his thrusts.
He buried his face into the side of my neck, groaning roughly as he came. His whole body rumbled at the sound, shuddered at his release. His arms tightened their hold on my body, and his hips pushed down into me, harder, deeper—yes.
He collapsed and rolled off me. He lay faceup, eyes closed, breathing hard. Colin looked beautiful to me, then. I might have thought he was handsome before, or maybe not, but it was an objective sort of observation. Looking at him now, knowing him—it was too much.
I stumbled off the bed and into the bathroom. I felt my own wetness sticky on the insides of my thighs, but I didn’t bother to wash. I sat down on the linoleum and leaned my back against the bathtub, trying to get it together.
I’d thought his sweetness was weak, but that wasn’t true at all. He was entirely in control, treating me the way he wanted, not the way I asked for it. And more than that, he seemed to know what I needed, giving it to me despite myself.
He walked into the bathroom, still naked, and sat next to me on the cold floor. I thought it was pretty silly and not totally clean. He put his arm around me and wiped away the tears I wanted to hide. I cried quietly for who knows how long while he held me.
I knew I’d feel stupid when I came back to reality, so I held it off as long as I could. Even after I stopped crying, I kept my eyes closed and buried myself into his side.
Then his stomach growled. We wouldn’t be able to sit here forever.
I peeked at him. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it wouldn’t be good. Anger maybe, or frustration, disgust, pity, or any number of bad things might be there, before he got the hell out of Dodge.
Instead his lips quirked up into a wry smile. “I’d like to see you again, but this doesn’t bode well for my chances.”
I laughed, the sound loud in the small space, because it wasn’t at all what I’d expected. It could have just been my postorgasm, postbreakdown hormo
nes talking, but if I were honest with myself, I was already falling for him.
That didn’t matter, because I had other considerations. One, mostly, but she was enough.
“I like you,” I hedged. The disappointment that flickered in his eyes said he read my tone correctly. “But I don’t think so.”
He considered me for a moment. “Okay,” he said. “That’s not what we’re here for, so I won’t push.”
He got up and offered me his hand. In the bedroom he handed me my clothes in between putting on his own. I averted my eyes, not because I didn’t want to see, but because there was a formality between us now that we’d had sex but weren’t going to see each other again.
“I’ll drop the key off at the front,” he said. “You can finish up in here.”
“Okay.”
He turned back at the door. “Listen, I own the Oasis Grill down on Kirby, okay? In case you change your mind. Just ask for me.”
He paused and then added, “Colin.”
I hadn’t forgotten.
“Maybe,” I said with a noncommittal smile.
“Bye, Allie. Take care.”
I peered through the blinds and watched his truck leave the parking lot. So, that was that. Why did I feel a lingering sense of loss? He was a stranger to me. He had to stay that way. That’s what this night was for—dirty, emotionless sex. Though this night had been distinctly less dirty and far less emotionless than I liked.
I left too, my mind blissfully blank as I drove through the sleepy Chicago streets. My apartment building loomed up ahead, its gray stucco walls and barred windows making it look more like a jail than a home. In Stone Park, that was an amenity. Don’t bother breaking in, it said. You won’t find anything valuable.
Within the white walls of my apartment, I took a quick shower to rid myself of the smoky stench of the clubs and the musky smell of sex. I didn’t mind them, at least not tonight, but I didn’t allow any remnants of my monthly date nights to seep into my regular life. Colin included.
I changed into my standard uniform, sweatpants and a tee. My flip-flops slapped the concrete stairs as I ran up to the identical apartment above mine.
Shelly answered the door. Her hair and makeup were done, though she wore jeans and a tank top. She had an appointment after this.
“So. How was your date?” The lilt in her voice made everything sound ironic, though in this case, the word date certainly was.
I hummed in response as I followed her into the living room and flopped down beside her on the couch. I accepted the ice-cream pint and spoon she offered.
“Uh-oh,” she said. “What happened this time?”
“I didn’t say anything happened.” I took a bite. “This is chocolate. How can you eat chocolate this late? It’ll keep you up.”
“Don’t change the subject. Spill.”
I sighed and took another bite. “This guy. He wasn’t like the others.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, he was…gentle.”
“Oh,” she said, knowing. “You should let me hook you up.”
I shot her a dark look over the spoon.
“I’m just saying. If you’re only in it for the sex, you might as well get paid. You can even charge extra to get roughed up.”
“Right, so I can get put in jail for solicitation. No, thank you.”
She rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t happen. Hardly ever. And they’d totally go easy on you because of Bailey.”
“We’re not having this conversation.” I passed the carton of ice cream back to her. “Besides, it wasn’t exactly…”
It wasn’t exactly bad. It had been amazing. Real, my mind whispered. That was what real sex was supposed to be like. It had been anything but bad.
“Allie?”
I looked up and found her watching me.
I smiled briefly. “Sorry. I’m a little distracted.”
“I can see that. Curiouser and curiouser.” Shelly liked to quote Alice in Wonderland to me. It was our secret joke, one I never quite appreciated.
“Don’t be dramatic. It wasn’t completely lame. That’s all.”
“I see.” The teasing light extinguished from her eyes. “Allison, we have to talk.”
Nothing good ever came from hearing my full name. “Bailey?”
“No, she’s fine. But…it’s related.”
A knot formed in my stomach, threatening to expel the churning mixture of chocolate ice cream and alcohol.
“He called me,” Shelly said. She was watching me, probably wondering how I would react. I wondered the same thing. I had the expected feelings: fear, revulsion. But maybe relief too, that the paralyzing wait had come to an end. “He said he just wanted to catch up. And…he asked about you. I told him I didn’t know where you were.”
“How did he find you?”
“Same number since high school.” She put up her hands. I’m sorry. “Changing numbers is not a good business move for me. Still, I think we may have taken the hiding-in-plain-sight idea a little too far.”
“I’m not hiding.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“I’m not doing it well,” I admitted. “He was the one who left.”
Shelly didn’t press me, thank God. We walked into her bedroom, where Bailey slept in the middle of the queen-size bed wrapped in fuzzy pajamas, her little fist against her mouth. I scooped my baby girl up, huffing a breath under the weight. Well, she’d be two years old in a few short months, not exactly a baby anymore.
Turning sideways through the bedroom doorway, I left Shelly’s place and carried Bailey down to our apartment, depositing her in her own secondhand princess bed. Already in her pajamas, she slept on as I tucked her in under the sheet. I gave her a kiss on the forehead and paused to breathe in her scent. That turned out to be a mistake, because she chose that moment to wake. I calmed her as she fussed, singing my small retinue of nursery rhymes until my voice had gone hoarse and her eyelids stopped fluttering.
I padded into my own bedroom, convinced I’d made the right choice in not seeing Colin again. Men had one use in my life, and that was what the club was for. I wasn’t in a good place for anything more than that, would probably never be.
Colin seemed like a nice guy, not like my usual dates. But I’d been wrong before, hadn’t I? So I’d made the right choice. Almost definitely.
When I lay down in bed, though, I thought back to the way he’d been with me, the way he had touched me. The way he had licked me. Jesus.
Most kids loved getting presents, but I hated it. After every present people would look at me expectantly, waiting for the gasp of surprise, the exclamation of how much I adored it, and the obligatory hugs all around. I worked at these happy displays, and if it wasn’t up to par, I suffered the disappointment. It got to where receiving presents was associated with letting people down.
If a man gave me oral sex, I felt pressure to come quickly. Then it would be like I owed it to him to be properly grateful afterward. Even if I could get off, the stress wasn’t worth it. And sometimes I couldn’t even come. How could I relax with a stranger’s teeth at my most vulnerable place? It wasn’t a common problem for me, though, because picking up random guys at bars isn’t usually conducive to finding generous lovers.
Colin had licked me, though, and it had been amazing. I had the oddest thought that I wanted him to do it again. That wouldn’t happen, of course. But I slipped my fingers into my panties and dreamed.
Chapter Two
I started looking over my shoulder in parking lots, bundled into my thick jacket as if it were armor. Slowing down as I approached alleyways as if something might jump out at me.
Bailey wasn’t excused from my insanity either. I crept into her room multiple times a night, making sure she was there and breathing. I even gave in a few times to sleeping on the floor near her bed, sharing the dim comfort of the night-light.
Colin was to blame, of course.
Shelly said it was Jacob—the ca
ll from him—but I didn’t want to think he could still affect me like this. After all, we were safe from him. As safe as a woman and a baby could ever be from a man who wouldn’t wish them well.
I told myself this was something far more basic. More base.
It had been a little over a month since I’d met Colin—since I’d fucked him. I had told Colin what I needed, how I needed it, and he had refused. He hadn’t misunderstood—the brief display of force he’d shown when he flipped me over had disproved that possibility. There was no doubt he was strong enough, but he’d been gentle, kind, almost…loving.
That’s not what sex was about for me. Not anymore.
As Bailey and I entered Shelly’s apartment, Shelly glanced at me with that blank expression she usually reserved for her johns and then peered back out her blinds. The boarded-up street front was hardly a pretty view. Besides, in our neighborhood, it was best to stay away from the windows.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“That car,” she said. “I don’t suppose you recognize it.”
I sat Bailey in the middle of the room, where it’d take her at least a full minute to get up to any trouble, and peeked between the slats. A dark car, probably black, sat out on the street that formed a T with ours, facing our apartment building. I squinted. Between the distance and the glare on the glass, I couldn’t tell whether those shapes were passengers or merely seats.
“No,” I said. “Why?”
“I saw it there last night. Kind of odd. When I got back from the store this morning, it wasn’t there. Now it’s back.”
It could be anything out on the street. I wasn’t sure why this particular car spooked her, except that it did look rather shiny—as in clean—for this area. And though I couldn’t quite tell from the shape of it, it seemed somewhat new. Nice cars in a bad neighborhood spelled trouble.
“It’s probably nothing,” I said. “Or the neighbor in 6A. He’s got shifty eyes.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Probably nothing.”
It looked like I’d rubbed off on even Shelly. I didn’t like seeing her shaken—that wasn’t her—so I went for distraction. “Bailey has a new trick.”
