by KD Robichaux
But that’s a decision for another day. Right now, the only thing I’m thinking about is the text message I just received from Jason saying he had just gotten to the hotel. I told him specifically not to get one off Bragg Boulevard, but apparently my badass big-city boy was willing to risk safety for the much cheaper price, because lo and behold, the address was on that strand of strip clubs, pawn, tattoo, and gun shops, and questionable businesses. I only go over that way to run into Edward McKay’s, my used bookstore, and the Krispy Kreme Doughnuts shop.
“Oh, my God, he’s here!” I blurt out from where I’m sprawled on the living room sofa next to my mom, who is sitting in her computer chair, but turned around facing the TV. Josalyn is upstairs asleep in her crib. I look at the time, seeing it’s almost 10:00 p.m.
“Wait for it…” Mom tells Granny, giving her a wink.
“What?” I ask, glancing between the two of them, and they share a secret smile, not answering.
I decide to ignore them, texting Jason back:
Glad you made it! Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
He replies quickly.
That was a hell of a drive. I’m going to take a shower then go to bed. I didn’t even stop to get anything to eat.
I send him one last text so he can get to bed.
Well then, I’ll take you to get some awesome breakfast in the morning. I love you.
Jason: Love you to baby.
I fight the urge to correct his message to ‘too’ and close out my texts, placing my phone on the armrest behind me. I drop my right foot down to the floor, my knee bouncing as I try to focus my attention back on the show we’re watching.
I look at the clock again. 10:02 p.m. God, I can’t wait to see him. This is a new form of torture, knowing he’s in my little hometown, breathing the same air. He’s here, only a short twenty-minute drive away. Not halfway across the country. Jason is not only on the east coast; he’s within my reach. And here I lay, having to wait one more night to see him. How the hell will I sleep tonight?
What seems like hours pass, and when I check the time on my phone, I groan, seeing it’s 10:14 p.m. My knee bounces rapidly, and I run both hands down my face, begging my body to settle down and feel tired enough so I can go to bed and wake up to go see him. You’d think since I haven’t slept well the last couple nights I’d be exhausted, but no. Knowing he’s near, it’s like my body is hyperaware of his closeness. My soul has woken from her nap, stretching and looking around for her other half, sensing his proximity.
“Three… two… one…” Mom counts down with a smirk, and at the exact moment she reaches zero, I spring from the couch, unable to take it anymore.
“I’ll surprise him!” I say, almost manically. “He said he didn’t eat, so I can pick him up something and take it to him. I could just come back home after he eats—”
Granny and Mom start laughing, cutting me off.
“I knew there was no way in hell you’d be able to stay put knowing that boy had arrived. I’ll keep an eye on Josalyn, KD. Go see your honey. Just be careful driving. We’ll see you tomorrow,” Mom tells me, and I look at her with happy exasperation and lunge toward her, wrapping her up in a tight hug, making her computer chair roll backward. I keep my toes planted on the floor, but follow the chair’s movement with the rest of my body, ending up lying in Mom’s lap as I squeeze her.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Mommy!” I squeak, hop up, and bolt up the stairs two at a time. I run into the bathroom, put on a fresh layer of deodorant, spritz myself with my perfume, and brush my teeth. I brush out my hair then pull it up into a much smoother ponytail, deciding to go makeup-free so I don’t wake up with raccoon eyes next to my man in the morning. That thought makes me meet my own reflection in the mirror. Holy shit. I’ll be sleeping with and waking up next to Jason for the very first time. I mean, we stayed at that beach cabin in Galveston, but we didn’t do much sleeping. We stayed up drinking, just the two of us, making love all night and into the next day. But this will be my first time actually falling asleep with him as his girlfriend. After my heart gives a tremendous thump, I spring back into action.
I slip into my room and look down into Josalyn’s crib, seeing she’s sleeping on her front, her knees up under her, her chubby cheek smooshed against the mattress, making her perfect little lips form an O as she snores away. I kiss my fingertips then run them through her ash-blonde hair before grabbing my hoodie off the foot of my bed and my purse from where it hangs on my doorknob. The baby monitor is downstairs, so they’ll still be able to hear Josalyn if she wakes up.
I control myself enough not to use the handrail to slide down the stairs, even though I’m about gleeful enough to do just that. I run over to Mom, smacking a kiss on her forehead before doing the same to Granny, and then I’m out the door. It’s pitch-black outside, but for once, I’m not petrified walking over to the wooded side of our yard to my car.
Normally, even at twenty-three years old, I have my mom stand in the doorway and talk to me while shining a flashlight in my direction if I come home when it’s grown dark, after calling her and letting her know I’ve arrived. I think it’s some sort of post-traumatic stress disorder, after my evil-ass big brother hid in the woods one night, when he knew I was due back home from my first job at the car dealership when I was eighteen. That asshole had put on his Friday the Thirteenth hockey mask—he thought it was funny since his name is Jason too—and when I got out of my car, he started making the infamous Ch-ch-ch sound, then burst out from the tall oaks and pines, waving my dad’s chainsaw around like a nutcase as he ran toward me.
My throat hurt for three days I'd screamed so loud, and to make things worse, when he caught up to me—I’m not a runner, and if you ever see me running, you better run too, because that means something is after me—he set the chainsaw down and tackled me to the ground, tickling my sides until I peed. Yep, eighteen years old, and my stupid big brother held me down ‘til I pissed myself. Fucker.
I back out of my parking spot and swoop onto the main road stunt car driver style, zipping through my neighborhood and out into Hope Mills in record time. This late, there aren’t many cars on the road to mess with my vision. I make it to Bragg Boulevard five minutes faster than I ever have before, hoping it’s just because I’ve been lucky with hitting all green lights instead of unconsciously speeding like a maniac. I stop by the McDonald’s closest to his hotel and grab him a quarter-pounder with cheese, plain and dry, and myself a chicken nuggets meal with sweet-and-sour sauce.
I pull into a parking spot, my stomach giving a colossal swoosh when I see his green Altima. I check my texts again to see what room he’s in, and then grab my purse and the bag of food, plus the large sweet tea out of my cup holder.
I climb the stairs, my heart racing from both the physical exertion and the fact Jason is only mere feet away. I pull open the glass door and walk down the corridor until I’m standing in front of room 328. Taking a deep breath, I lift the hand holding the bag of food and knock with my knuckles. My face feels hot, excitement and nervousness pressing down on me as I wait for him to answer the door. After a minute without him answering, I set the bag down and knock a little louder, but again, no answer. Maybe he’s still in the shower, or already asleep. I knock one last time then grab my phone out of my purse, getting ready to text him, but finally the door opens as much as the chain lock allows, Jason’s handsome but intense face appearing in the crack. He glances farther down than where his eyes initially looked out, in order to reach my smiling face, his expression softening the moment he sees it’s me.
“Housekee-ping. You want me fluff pillow?” I ask, mimicking David Spade’s high-pitched voice in Tommy Boy, making him chuckle and close the door long enough to remove the chain. He holds it open for me, and I come into the room, which I’m surprised is so massive for the price he told me he got it for, after grabbing the Mickey D’s off the floor. I only catch a glimpse of his firearm as he puts it into the drawer of the nightstand by the
bed, and then I’m in his arms. Oh, my Texan.
I rest my face against his neck, breathing him in. With my arms hanging at my sides, I tell him, “I come baring gifts,” then lift the bag and sweet tea for him to see. “Sorry, I couldn’t even function knowing you were here. Mom is watching Josalyn, so you’re stuck with me for a sleepover. I forgot my sleeping bag though. You got one I can borrow?” I tease, surprised at how playful and composed I feel being in Jason’s presence for the first time in almost two months.
He lifts the iced tea out of my hand and takes a long pull from the white straw, one of his corded forearms still wrapped around my lower back, holding me close. “No sleeping bag, but I think there might be a corner of that king-sized bed I’d be willing to let you have,” he goads then leans down to press his perfect lips to mine, sending a thrill down each of my extremities.
After a few more kisses, he takes the McDonald’s bag out of my hand and sits down on the edge of the bed, toeing his boots off, and that’s when I see he’s not wearing any socks. Then I take in the fact his hair is damp, and I can see wetness coming through his T-shirt. I wave my hand in front of him. “What’s all this? Have you taken a shower already?”
He looks down at where the center of his shirt is a darker blue than the rest of it. “Yeah, I'd just finished when I first heard a knock. I threw my clothes back on and grabbed my gun, in case this part of town really is as bad as you said. But instead, I found a little angel at my door,” he says, taking a bite of his burger.
I pull my nuggets and sauce from the bag after slipping my flip-flops off my feet and sitting Indian-style in the center of the bed. I can feel the silly grin that won’t leave my face as I munch on French fries, flattening out the paper bag and dumping the salty potatoes on top of it between us so we can share. This feels so… normal, so comfortable, like we do it every day. He feels like home.
He moans as he chews, closing his eyes like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was because I’m so tired. Thanks, babe.” He leans over our makeshift picnic to give me a quick kiss before devouring the rest of his meal, washing it down with a swig of tea.
I ball up everything and take it into the bathroom to throw away, returning to crawl into bed next to Jason, where he’s now under the covers in just his boxer briefs. He pulls me closer, wrapping his arm around me and tucking me into his side, and my head rests comfortably on his chest. I trail my fingers up and down between his pecs, and with a kiss to my forehead, we drift off to sleep, and it’s the best night of sleep I’ve had since before I got pregnant. Shit, even before that, when I used to fall asleep after drinking a bottle of wine, trying to drown out the looped thoughts of the man I’d give anything to be with, the same man who now holds me to him like his life depends on it.
Heated breath.
Delicate, wet strokes of a nimble tongue.
A strong hand gripping around my right thigh.
A sudden plunge of dexterous fingers.
A firm caress to that secret spot only one man has ever found inside me.
“Jason,” I breathe, my hips circling as he continues his ministrations to my most sensitive place. I’m in that hazy state between dreaming and consciousness, but as he hooks his fingers, dragging it across the wall of my core over and over, and he sucks my clit gently between his teeth, I jerk fully awake with an orgasm that wracks my entire being.
I’m completely limp as he crawls up my body, and I’m so primed for his entry that he fills me in one smooth thrust. He braces himself on his elbows on either side of my head, surrounding me in that way I will absolutely never get enough of, and as he pistons his hips, his powerful thighs moving him in a technique that blows my mind every time, somehow he’s still able to kiss me softly. He pulls my bottom lip into his mouth, letting it slide out between his teeth, the sensation shooting directly to my center, where I feel myself tighten around his hard length.
I have no control over the noises or words that pour out of me as he completely consumes my universe, but I have one conscious thought the whole time he showers me with pleasure only he knows how to give me. “I love you,” I arch up to whisper into his ear before burying my face in the hot skin covering his collarbone, inhaling his intoxicating scent that both excites and soothes me.
My heart thuds in my chest at his immediate response, “I love you, too,” and my hands reach up to grasp the sheets above my head, holding on for dear life as he suddenly pounds into me. My breath comes out in short, sharp pants, and everything inside me begin to tighten. I’m hanging on, hovering at the top of the roller coaster’s first giant drop. As I look down my body, seeing his thick cock disappearing and reappearing over and over as he thrusts, my vision is then filled as he lowers his face to my breast, and then with his amazing eyes as he looks up at me from where he’s taken my nipple into his mouth, watching my reaction.
I implode, my body latching onto him with every bit of strength I have in my much smaller body, and as suddenly as that tension hits me with all its power, it flips and changes, becoming an explosion, a relaxing shudder taking over my whole form. At the perfect moment, he pulls out and reaches between us to feel me come all over his fingers, the pleasure coming out in a hot gush of wetness.
He growls his approval, and feeling what he’s made me do seems to renew and double his efforts, even though I feel like I can’t take any more of it. He flips me effortlessly to my stomach, positioning my limbs the way he wants them because I have no strength to move them on my own.
He takes me savagely from behind, making me gasp sharply at the depth he reaches inside me. Not wanting to hurt me, he tilts my hips up in the perfect angle, and hearing my moan of ecstasy, he lets loose, hammering me with the sheer power of his muscled body. All I can do is breathe and relax, my front melting into the mattress as he takes from me what he wants, and I’m all too willing to give it to him.
I lose count of how many towering hills he pushes me up then drops me over the other side, one orgasm starting before the previous one ends, and soon I’m in an all-consuming state of floating, drifting, zero-gravity, until I hear his breath rush out of him in a whoosh, the only sound he makes, and I know he’s finally gotten his own pleasure.
Next thing I know, I’m under the covers again, snuggled into the nook between his arm and chest, and I’m drifting off to sleep once more.
When I awaken again, light is filtering into the room where the two curtains meet over the window. I glance over at the clock radio on the nightstand and see it’s only 8:00 a.m., so God only knows what time it was when Jason woke me for that round of amazing sex. Or was it a dream? I shift my legs, feeling the not unpleasant ache between them, and I know for sure it was not just a dream. I lift my arms above my head and stretch, arching my back as far as I can. I slept like the dead, and it feels almost as if I got too much sleep, since I’m so used to waking up two hours earlier than this for work or with Josalyn.
I look over at Jason and see he’s watching me, his dark eyes dancing with humor.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he says huskily.
“Morning,” I reply, and sit up. My bladder is about to pop from all the sweet tea I drank before bed last night, so I get out from under the covers, and try not to look as awkward as I feel walking across the room naked. Lying close to him in bed is one thing, but prancing around on full display as he gets an unobstructed view of my nudity is another.
When I close the bathroom door behind me, I can hear the rustle of the sheets as Jason shifts in bed, which makes me frown. If the walls are so thin I can hear that, then that means he’ll be able to hear me pee.
Oh, my God, Kayla. Grow up, I tell myself, but I can’t help it. This is the first time I’ve woken up next to him, having always gone home after a night of lovemaking. I’ve never had to show him my human side, always tried to be perfect when I’m in front of him.
I bite my lip and look around. I flip the switch next to the one for the lights, and the fa
n comes on, and then I turn on both the sink and tub faucets. There, that should make enough noise to cover up the sound of me peeing. But just in case, I also flush the toilet while I go.
After using a washcloth to freshen up, I wash my hands, turn everything off, and go back into the bedroom, but stop in my tracks when I see Jason holding in laughter, propped up against the headboard, the covers barely covering his hips.
“What?” I look down at myself. I knew I should have wrapped up in a towel before I came out.
His voice tight, like he’s trying his best not to burst out laughing, he asks, “What were you doing in there, sexy mama?”
My face heats. “I had to pee.”
“Do you always create a sound barrier when you pee, or was that for my benefit?” His grin takes over his face when I fidget.
I don’t really know how to answer without sounding ridiculous, so I just snap, “Shut up,” and get into bed beside him. “Way to call me out, jerk,” I pout, but immediately laugh as he quickly straddles me, holding my hands above me with one of his and tickling my ribs with the other.
I start squealing, trying not to scream, since we’re in a hotel and I don’t want our neighbors to call the front desk. “Stop! Oh, God! You’re gonna make me pee!”
“You already peed,” he reminds me, digging his fingers into my sides then dancing them upward to my armpits.
“I can’t breathe! Please! Stop!” I beg, and finally, he ceases the torture, bending down to kiss away the laughter tears from where they’ve dripped down my temples and into my hairline.
He smiles down from his perch above me, and asks, “So what are we doing today?”
