“Sure. Would you like me to take you home?” He presses the button for the elevator. “Last chance.”
“No. I can stay a little longer. See what you’ve been up to. We’ve been talking about me all evening. Your turn.” My mouth is running ahead of my jumbled thoughts. Heat boils inside me and my pulse revs. Should I stay or go? I have to help at the restaurant tomorrow. My parents are probably worried. But my teenage self pouts and crosses her arms, stomping her foot, eager to taste and explore Romeo and all I’ve missed these five years.
The elevator door opens and I step in, feeling like I’m about to embark on an adventure that can either end in pure delight or utter disaster. Considering how catastrophic the past few months have been, I figure a change is due.
I send a short text to Choco telling her I’m at Romeo’s and won’t be coming in until late. Then I turn off my phone.
Romeo is visibly relaxed by the time we pop into his apartment. It’s completely furnished, one of those corporate extended stay units complete with leather upholstery, framed art on the wall and modern kitchen appliances.
“What will you have to drink?” He guides me toward a plush couch. “Make yourself at home.”
“I’ve had enough drink tonight. I’m kind of hot though.” I fan myself, a snake of desire wrapping around my lower regions.
Tonight, I’m going to take what I want, find out what I’ve been missing. Besides it’s not like hot, sexy Romeo’s a stranger.
A sly grin crawls onto his face. “You’re direct, aren’t you? I like that.”
He turns on the stereo. It plays a pulsing music full of sexual rhythm. The song, I believe, is “Inside My Love” due to the repeated lyrics describing where the female singer wants her lover. Slowly, I unzip my moto-jacket, aware of the effect I have on him. His gaze never leaves me as I shrug it to the floor, then roll my hips, my hands caressing my body to the rhythm of the music. I act out the lyrics, bending and arching my back, while I circle my boobs with my fingers, before slipping my hands under my stretchy top.
Not too fast, I undulate to the drugged beat of the music, lifting the camisole over my shoulders and letting it drop like a fallen leaf. I dance up against him, the peaks of my breasts, still encased in my bra but visibly hard, rub against his open jacket. I tuck my palms in and up his shirt. He’s hot, damp, the muscles of his chest firm. I nip the edge of his jacket and tug with my teeth to pull it off him. He’s dancing with me, his erection against my belly. The leather is too confining. My breathing quickens, the heat rises, and the voices in the song keep calling what I’ve been wanting the minute I saw Romeo at Barrio XO.
He grabs both sides of my face and draws me into a grinding kiss, hungry, expectant, and oh, so impatient. I grapple with his belt, and he deftly unhooks my bra. He’s familiar, yet a stranger. Bigger, stronger, and more aggressive. He grunts as I loosen his belt and stick my hands through the top of his waistband.
“Not yet, cookie. Let me undress you first.”
“Oh, no. Show’s not over.” I crank up the volume on the stereo. Another erotic song follows, mostly moaning, heavy breathing and spoken words.
Running my hands up and down, I bounce and jiggle, and wiggle out of my pants. The legs catch on my boots. I lose my balance and fall onto the couch. Romeo scoops me up. “Bed?”
“Yes, bed.” I hook my arms around his strong neck.
The walk is short. We crash onto his bed. He rips my boots off and tugs my pants over my feet. My heartbeat is on overdrive, my entire torso and face flushed. When Romeo removes his shirt, I almost gush on the spot. His dark tan skin is smooth, his muscles rippled in perfect symmetry. Those slanted grooves on the both sides of his abdominals beckon me to run my hands straight toward his groin.
Romeo advances on me, a predatory look in his eyes, intent on devouring me. Almost crushing me, he rams his tongue into my mouth, ravaging my lips, his hands marauding my breasts.
His hips grind between my legs, denim on my soaked panties.
“How do you want it?” He practically growls when he tugs away from plundering my mouth.
“Every way.” I’m barely coherent. All my erotic fantasies are about to be fulfilled. I’m greedy. I want everything.
Rough hands squeeze my breasts and hips, and his sandpapery jaw scratches my shoulders. Pain mingles with chilling tingles and excitement sizzles in my arteries. I moan and arch, desperate for skin to skin contact. Romeo rolls one nipple into his mouth while massaging the other one. I let out a yelp of pleasure and clench my inner thighs around his hips, pushing in for more pressure.
He dry humps me while playing with my breasts, zinging me with exquisite sensations.
I never thought I was such a slut, in fact, I’ve always been reserved in bed. But before I can stop myself, I’m grabbing his hair and shoving his face down my belly. He drops off the bed and onto his knees, dragging me to the edge of the bed. Eyeing me with a smirk, he gives me an air kiss. And fuck! When he bites his lip, right over his shining lip ring and gives me that hot, sexy, I-know-what-you-want look? I’m about to pass out.
He hooks his fingers under my panties and slides them off. “So fuckin’ wet, looking so tasty.”
My eyes must be begging him, because he licks his lips exaggeratedly, then spreads my legs wide. Lifting my bottom with his palms under my ass, he hones in.
Ah. Sheer bliss. Romeo’s tongue is soft, lazy, circling my clit without direct pressure. Skillful. As teens, we’d never been this far. He’d groped me in the car, awkward, fumbling, and kissed my breasts. But the unspoken rule was never below the belt. Now, I’m benefitting from the expertise he gained partying at USC. I cast thoughts of other women from my mind, focusing on the exquisite tongue lapping lazily between my legs. He alternates kissing and licking, running his tongue up one side, then down the other, knowing not to apply direct pressure on the most sensitive spot.
Waves of pleasure mount then ebb, tortuous, seemingly endless. My cries and moans increase in pitch and I’m gripping the sheets, flailing my head back and forth. Romeo squeezes my butt and pinches the flesh between my legs. I didn’t know pain could throw me into a frenzied state, aching for a more focused sensation. He scrapes me with the metal of his lip ring while his tongue circles tighter, spiraling me higher and higher. I press myself against his lips, and grind into his face, seeking direct pressure. His tongue zeroes in on the center of my clit and throws me over the edge. My hips twitch involuntarily, sending shots of ecstasy throughout my body. While my vagina is still contracting, Romeo pushes his fingers in and draws another mind blowing orgasm.
“I can’t take this.” I see stars and feel myself floating, stuck on a high. “Inside me, I want you inside.”
He peels off his pants, yanks the drawer of his night table open and slips on a condom, then positions himself at my entrance. “This is our first time, cookie. Make it count.”
I don’t know what I’ve been missing all these years. But one look at his cock and I almost faint. I knew he was large. I’d felt him up long ago, but stroking with my hand is a different proposition than having it inside me, invading and displacing my internal organs.
He seems to read my mind because he circles himself gently, teasing, stretching me with the tip as if I were a virgin all over again. Still singing from the orgasms, my body is more than ready for him. I arch into him, and guide his hips down until he’s buried. It’s tight and a sharp jolt causes me to flinch when he hits my cervix. I press on my left ovary to relieve the pressure.
“I hurt you?” He pulls back, but I trap him with my legs.
“A fine line between pleasure and pain.” I can barely breathe. “You’re so big. Fuck me hard, Romeo. I want to know what it’s like.”
“I’ve been wanting you all my life.” His face scrunches and he showers kisses over my face, lips, and neck while his hips slam me hard and fast.
There’s no way I can control my vocalizations. A sound like a hyena cackle punches from my throat on every
down stroke. I’m losing my mind, crazy high, and overwhelmed, and when my orgasm pounds through me, I scream. It barrels over me like an out of control roller coaster cart. It breaks from the track, hangs in thrilling suspension for a sublime moment, then hurtles, spiraling off into a rainbow of sparkly tingly lights.
Romeo’s eyes roll back and his mouth elongates. He’s looking like a guy falling off a giant drop zone. I clench around him as he thrusts harder and grunts, his breathing ragged. We hold each other, my arms and legs wrapped around him for several long minutes. And even before my orgasm fades, tears roll from my eyes as an intense feeling of being lost, yanks sobs from my throat.
“What’s wrong?” Romeo pops off me, his face etched with worry.
“Nothing, except I screwed up badly. I’m sorry.” I wipe my eyes roughly and turn onto my side, curled away from him. I don’t even know why I’m crying. My rational mind searches for an explanation. Post traumatic stress syndrome from the breakup with Eric. Or regret because I should never have left Romeo. All I know is that the black and white world I existed in for five years has exploded into a raucous, joyful, exhilarating and frightening mass of colors and sparks.
“Romeo, I don’t know how to express what I’m feeling.” I sit partially and throw myself into his arms. “Except with you, I can be myself. I can be anything.”
Chapter 11
The soothing sound of the surf swishes through the open window, and the damp salty scent of the sea mingles with the hot sultriness inside. My body hovers in a chemical soup of oxytocin, serotonin, dopamine and endorphins, bonding hormones associated with pleasure and a feeling of well-being.
Romeo’s hand wanders over my upper back. He’s gentle and soothing. Gradually the crying subsides and I snuggle, resting my head on his chest.
He pulls a sheet over us since the night breeze is cool. “You okay now?”
I sniffle and nod. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”
“I’ve never made a woman weep.” His voice rumbles low. “You’re really different.”
Is this good or bad? How many women has he had? How come I never asked? Or maybe this isn’t my business. We’re a one-night stand. I shut my eyes and making mmm… sounds against his chest. Soon enough I’ll be gone, maybe back to school or a job far away. But forever after, this man, this set of arms, this chest, this heart is the only one I’ll ever want.
He brushes a tear from my face. “Hey, tell me what’s wrong.”
I wipe my eyes roughly. “I’m ruining this for you. Should I leave?”
“Heck no.” He lifts me so my face is level with his. “I just had the best sex in my life. You want to cry, go ahead. But this, being here with you, it feels so natural and right.”
A cozy warm feeling, like a soft, downy blanket envelops me. “You’ve always been a part of me, Romeo.”
And it’s true. Always in the background, whether I’m conscious or not. Romeo has been there, living in my heart, lurking in my emotions, waiting for a moment like this.
He lays a tender kiss on my cheek, catches a rolling teardrop with his lips and brushes his thumb across my mouth. “I feel as if we’ve never been apart. Let me make love to you.”
“Yes,” I mutter against his lips, and he captures me with a lazy, drifting kiss. I’m floating on a mighty, majestic river, wider than an ocean, rocking over his sleek muscles.
His eyes are closed as I admire his exquisite features. One hundred percent Pinoy. His eyebrows are strong over eyes with dark, curly lashes. Not quite round, they peek with curiosity, giving him a puckish look when he’s smiling, but a deep, soulful gaze when he’s thoughtful. A half-circle scar arches over his right cheekbone, a stark reminder of the knife wound he took for me when I was almost abducted after a football game. I kiss it and rub the angular jaw that juts slightly. His nose is broad without being flat, flaring nicely from the straight bridge over lushly kissable lips. The smooth dark tan of his skin is broken by his beard stubble, rough and stimulating.
I nibble my way down his neck to his chest and roll my tongue around his nipples, causing him to tense and suck in a noisy breath of air. His erection is already pressing against my belly, but I’m ignoring it, teasing and taking my time appreciating the tiny grunts and moans I elicit. His taste is salty, moist, and freaking sexy, like moss in the redwood forest, pungent and exciting. I massage his chest and slide my hands down his sides as I nuzzle his belly with my nose, kissing and exploring the ridges between his abdominals.
The tip of his cock touches my chin and I shudder when I reach the patch of wiry hair. I lick my lips and glance at him. His eyes are half-glazed, smoldering. He sits up and grabs my hair, twisting it around his fingers.
“Not now.” He leans against the headboard and pulls me into his lap. “Unlike you, I have to conserve my energy.”
“Like how?” I straddle his erection and rub, delighting in his strained expression, like he’s holding back a tsunami.
“Stop moving.” He pinches my hips.
It’s like he touched a live wire. A spark jumps the gap between us and I balance myself, my hands on his shoulders. He pats the bed, trying to get to the night table, but I don’t want that piece of rubber. I want all of him, skin to skin. I do a quick mental computation and give into my deepest desires. Holding him down, I ride up onto his engorged tip.
“Evie, baby, you feel so good.” He grunts and moans as I plunge myself down on him.
I pinch his shoulders and neck and slide him in and out, long lingering strokes. He quivers, gasping for breath, his face scrunched, bathed in sweat.
“Stop fighting me.” I nip his earlobe, keeping my rhythm steady and deliberate. Pressure mounts around my thighs and screams for release, but I soldier on, slowing to prolong the intensity. “Take deeper breaths, love. Don’t be in such a hurry.”
I massage his shoulders and arms and rub my breasts against his chest, circular movements each dripping with exquisite sensation. My lips join his and we settle into a euphoric cadence where my senses exist on an elevated plane, vivid, burning into my consciousness, grand vistas of majestic snowy mountains and vast tracks of tropical treetops, undulating and bobbing. I’m soaring like a golden hawk, high above a shining river, the sun’s rays twinkling like sparkles of a million jewels.
Firm lips nip and suck the sensitive zones of my neck, behind my ear, on top of my breasts. An aria sings in my mind, calling me across a great chasm of fire, danger, red lava pits. Sweat runs down my face like streams of blood and time slows to a drawn out chord.
Hot, slippery passion spurts and shoots through my body. I lose control of my motor functions, my body convulsing and contracting as my soul opens her arms and connects with the sound of the heavens opening and join all of humanity, past, present, future, to cry out in joy and love.
Romeo’s eyes open, bringing me down to earth, dragging me into his mesmerizing depths. He mouths only a single word, “Forever.”
Chapter 12
I shouldn’t have fallen asleep, but I didn’t want to break the fantasy. A single, perfect night, a night I never want to end. But the morning looms, a morning I don’t want to face. Already, sunlight simmers through the blinds, the sound of the morning surf more agitated, accompanied by the calls of seabirds.
Romeo’s slow, steady snore breaks and he opens his heavy-lidded eyes. A saucy grin lights his face. “Wow, Evie, have I died and gone to heaven?”
Of all the things he could have said to me on this dreadful morning after, he chooses a cheesy soap opera line?
“Don’t be silly.” I huff. “Do you have work today?”
“Not until the afternoon.” He props himself on one elbow. “How about you?”
“The restaurant opens at ten.”
“Hmm…” He flicks his fingers through my hair. “It’s still early. How about a shower and an appetizer? That is, if you’re not too sore.”
I never knew my Romeo to be so arrogant. But then, I’m not accounting for five years of constan
t female attention. Might as well make this brief and get out of here with whatever dignity I can keep.
“I had a great time. I should probably get going.”
“I understand.” He pulls me into his arms. “Where are we going with this? What happened last night?”
Now that he points it out, it’s pretty awkward to wake up in bed with a guy I haven’t seen in five years. It’s almost like walking into a high school reunion and jumping the ‘one who got away.’ Actually, this is exactly what it is.
“Do you have to ask the hard questions?” My voice sounds like a dilapidated wheeze.
“I have to ask if I want to know. Don’t you?”
“Yes, no. I mean I don’t know what happened.”
He chuckles and rolls so we’re side by side and he can look directly into my eyes. “I want to see you again.”
Is he saying this to make me feel better? What does he mean by seeing? Am I just another hookup? Someone to have sex with when convenient?
“I don’t usually do this. I mean, end up in some guy’s bed.”
“Evie, Evie, Evie. You don’t have to explain.” He lightly pinches my cheek. “First of all, I’m not some random guy. And let’s not pretend. You’re not innocent and neither am I. We both wanted it.”
“But, I swear. I don’t get picked up. I’m not like this. I’ve only ever had one relationship. You must think I’m like the other women you hook up with.”
“Oh, baby.” He thumbs the outline of my face. “I’m not thinking anything but how wonderful you were last night, and how I want to see you again and spend time with you.”
He’s putting all the player moves on me. I’ve watched enough telenovelas to know how it goes. Argh! He’s an actor. Of course he knows his lines. This isn’t the Romeo who was my true blue friend. How do I know everything that happened last night, the things he did and said, wasn’t an act? And now, he’s negotiating another session. Makes sense.
“So, what do you say?” He casts an alluring grin. “Shower before or after our morning appetizer?”
Taming Romeo Page 5
