True North

by Liora Blake

  In a voice so low that it barely registers in my brain, Trevor brushes his lips against my shoulder and murmurs, “I do like this dress.”

  “You didn’t sound like you cared much for it earlier,” I mutter while spreading my legs a bit more so his middle finger can nestle against my clit.

  “I like it if it’s for me. No one else.”

  While he’s stroking me and teasing me, I let my head roll back to his shoulder and feel an intensity building that I haven’t experienced in so long. The feeling of someone meeting your every need, every desire, every desperate craving, and simply letting them get you there.

  “Were you wearing it for me, Kate?”

  “God, yes.” I realize that I was. Secretly wanting him to see me in this dress and take it off me.

  His other hand moves around to slip in and cup my breast. My nipples turned hard when he touched me in the elevator, so when he pulls on one now, tugging gently, it feels like I might come apart. I can’t move from the spot where I’m standing because the tandem courses his hands are on have paralyzed me.

  “Good. That’s what I thought.”

  My hips start to move and grind against his hand, building the friction my body demands. When he slides one finger inside me, another deep moan surfaces.

  “Oh, shit, Trevor. Don’t stop. Please.”

  “Do you want to come like this?” His voice is tight and full of need, a lightning rod to what is happening to my body. I can’t decide; it seems so pushy or pitiful to say yes, but I’m feeling so greedy that I don’t really care. When he pauses to slip a second finger inside, I can only stutter out an indecisive mumbling as he works his palm while moving his fingers in perfect time. “It’s OK, baby. I promise it won’t be the only one. Go ahead. Come for me.”

  He starts to rub harder against my clit, with all the pressure I need, while still palming my breast just so. His permission and direction are all it takes. It all comes on so fast, so powerfully, because this need has been hovering inside me for too damn long, just waiting for him to claim it. Trevor slows the cadence and pressure of his hands, before finally pulling away and moving to stand in front of me. His mouth is at my ear, nipping the side of my neck before speaking to me.

  “See what happens if you just stop thinking for five seconds?”

  The first thing that comes to my mind is thank you. Thank you universe, thank you clitoris, thank you hotel room, thank you Trevor. Fortunately, I don’t actually say any of this aloud, because how pathetic would that sound?

  When he begins to kiss me again, there is desperation behind every hasty move. Our mouths blunder together frantically, his hands jerk my hips forward into his, my unsteady legs threatening to give out until I have the good sense to lock my knees, my hands quaking slightly as I shove my fingers just under the waist of his pants and start to tug his shirt free. There isn’t a single lingering question in my mind, no gray area to debate whether we are doing this or not. My dress is shoved up to my waist, his shirt is coming off, and the way he pushes against my thigh, hard and insistent, we are so doing this. Which means he needs to be less clothed and more naked, as quickly as possible.

  “You’re wearing too many clothes. Why are you always wearing so many stupid, stupid clothes, Trevor?” I moan and push him back toward the wall.

  Tossing his shirt into the middle of the room, I focus my eyes to trace a path for my mouth over every part of him, his arms, his collarbone, the tops of his shoulders, his pecs, and down over every ridge of his torso. I crouch down, trailing my tongue from his navel to his belt, leaving a moist path on his skin.

  When I look up, Trevor is gazing down on me and I lose track of everything for a second. He brings his hands up to my head and runs his fingers through my hair, deftly pulling out the rocker ponytail David worked so hard on a few hours ago. Taking his belt in my fingers, I unbuckle it to work the button and zipper on his trousers. Sliding my hand over his cock, I can feel him twitch and throb under the pressure of my fingers, until I relent, pulling everything down so that I can see, touch, and taste him.

  As I draw my hand over his bare length, my mouth actually starts to water. Trevor drops a few husky curses after I kiss the tip and then lick the head a few times. When I take all of him, he immediately grabs fistfuls of my hair, knotting his fingers into the length of it.

  I had forgotten how heady and arousing this is with the right man. To have Trevor this way and hear him groan above me is nearly my undoing. Using my hand in tandem with my mouth, I twist my fist up and down, over the tip with every stroke until I’m sure that with just one deep move, he won’t be able to hold back.

  Trevor sucks in a stuttered breath. “Christ, baby, that’s so good.”

  In the echo of those words, I want all of this experience, to have him let go and feel him come. Gently, he starts to thrust into my mouth and his fingers dig into my scalp. Then, suddenly, he pulls back and I’m kneeling there with my mouth open, wanting him back.

  “Hold on, come up here.” I shimmy up, worried about what could have gone wrong so quickly. Nothing seemed to be going wrong, that’s for sure. It’s been a while for me this way, but I think I can remember what gives.

  “What’s wrong?” I whisper. “I wanted you like that.”

  Trevor slumps against the wall, pressing his palms to his closed eyes. “You were getting me too close.”

  “That was kinda the point.”

  Opening his eyes, he cradles my face in his hands. “I didn’t come here for a blow job, Kate. I want more from this.”

  I can’t help it. His thick, heavy length feels so good that I drop my hand down and start to stroke him again, firmly. My voice is pouty. “Can’t we have both?”

  Bringing his hands to my ass, still exposed since my dress remains gloriously hitched up around my waist, he caresses the bare skin tenderly.

  “I just have this thing in my head. The first time I come with you, I want to be inside you. Buried so deep that neither of us can think straight.”

  Once he proclaims this, he reaches up around my neck and undoes the clasp of my dress, pulling it down and off me so I’m standing there completely naked except for my heels. He trails his index finger down my body, starting at my clavicle, slowly running between my breasts and over my belly.

  “This body is where I want to be.”

  His voice is so quiet that I take his head in my hands and kiss him softly. Pulling his hand, I lead us toward the bed and help him slip off the rest of his clothes. Once we’re both naked, with a powerful current of desire zinging between our bodies, I crawl on my knees onto the bed and curl my finger at him.

  In one movement, he grabs my waist and flips me to the bed on my back, kissing and teasing my neck before landing on my nipples. Taking time with each, he sucks and licks until they grow so unbearably stiff that I cry out a little. Slipping one hand down between my legs, he groans and pushes a finger inside.

  “Shit, you’re so wet again. All for me?”

  “All for you,” I whisper into his ear, and then tug his earlobe with my teeth.

  He pulls his hand away and leans down to kiss me, working his body against mine. The tip of his cock is grazing against my entrance, but before I can slither just so and guide him inside, he gets up from the bed.

  “Hold on, baby, we gotta be safe.” I hear him grab his pants, the belt jingling as he fishes a condom from the pocket. The foil rips, and I let out a whimpering groan that is loud enough to be somewhat embarrassing. He chuckles softly. “Just one second, sweet thing. I’ll be right there.” Rolling the condom down his length, he strokes himself a few times and stares at me. The dim light means I can’t see his face wholly, but there is something hesitant in his expression, nearly hinting at nervousness. Lying across the bed with my knees up and my legs parted, one hand lazily rubbing my wetness, and him watching me that way, touching himself, makes every inch of my skin sing in tense, aching need.

  Crawling back to me, he pulls my hand from between my le
gs and lays his own in its place. Tugging behind my knees, he drags my body toward his so he is close enough to my entrance that he can taunt me, pushing in with just the tip and then back out.

  “Trevor, don’t tease. I’m going crazy here.” I wrap one leg around his back, in hopes he will yield, but he stays still and continues to press the head just so.

  “Tell me what you want, baby. I need to hear you say it. In every dirty fantasy I’ve had about you, I can’t get enough of you begging me for it.”

  He’s lowered his voice into a graveled plea and because I crave him so much, it’s easy to give him what he wants. What he needs. I spell it out for him, every detail of how badly I want him inside me, how I want every thrust, how I want to shatter all around him and have him come so hard he doesn’t remember his own name. Halfway through my dirty soliloquy, he slides into me and doesn’t stop.

  He rubs his thumb against my clit, rich tension brewing under that steady touch. I try to catch my breath so it can be more than just panting pleas. I open my eyes and see him backlit from the single light in the room, his entire exquisite body above me and every wonderful muscle coiled in frenzied tension. Trevor tells me not to stop, to keep talking dirty to him. Barely, I find my voice again, begging him to take me harder. Forced to stop when I start to come, I can’t form words anymore, just wild sounds that ricochet in the room around the rumble of Trevor groaning. He gives another hard thrust and then curses, while gripping my hips so tightly that I’m sure his fingers will have marked me in the morning.

  He collapses onto me, his warm breath seeping out against my collarbone. A light sweat covers our bodies so our skin slips against each other. Trevor raises his head just enough to see my face.

  “Oh God, Katie, so fucking good. Better than anything.” His head drops heavily and his lips brush my neck as his breath slows into deep sighs.

  Katie. The endearment tugs at some deep indulgent spot in my heart. No one calls me that. No one ever has. Wrapped in his hoarse and spent voice, though, it sounds perfect.

  12

  A few hours pass, but when my phone starts to ring, I would swear we’ve only lay sleeping against each other for a few minutes. From the other room, I can hear the chirp of my phone but try to ignore it. Just when I think it will stop, it starts again. Rolling away from Trevor’s heavy arm, I crawl off the bed and tiptoe into the sitting area. My purse is on the floor where I dropped it, so I kneel down and fish out the obnoxious contraption that drew me away from the warm body in my bed.

  Kellan. Of course.

  I answer in a loud whisper. “Kellan? Why are you calling?”

  From the phone, I can hear commotion wherever he is, not like the club, but a place with lots of clanging interrupted by a few whistles and shouts. Shutting off the light in the entryway, I wander toward the large picture window in the sitting area. Standing in front of the window, I start to feel cold because away from Trevor’s heated body, anything else feels chilly. His soft, beautiful shirt is lying in a heap on the floor, so I grab it and slide it on. Leaning against the plateglass window with one shoulder, I take in the skyline and the city lights that cover the prospect. Somehow they look pretty, even to a country girl like me.

  “I’m just checking on you, my sex kitten! We stumbled out of the club at last call and made our way to the best all-night diner in the city. It’s time for our preemptive hangover prescription. Biscuits and gravy! So brilliantly bad for you, but so perfect!”

  His talk of food makes my stomach growl. Evidently, we burned a few calories ourselves. “Stop talking about food; it’s making me hungry. I’m fine. You can go back to your blue-plate artery-clogging delights.”

  “Hungry, are you? That’s a very good sign! I wanted to make sure he didn’t take you back to some kinky bat-cave sex lair and tie you up. Not that being tied up is bad, but still—”

  “Now you’re worried about a kinky sex lair? A few hours ago you were practically covering me in honey and presenting me on a silver platter to him.”

  “Go ahead and say ‘thank you,’ my darling.” Kellan laughs and I can hear Dah-veed in the background, drunkenly shouting something about more blueberry pancakes. I don’t buy it—as if that kind of carb-and-sugar-laced time bomb would ever cross his dainty lips.

  “Thank you, Kellan.” As I say this, Trevor’s arms circle around my waist and his face burrows into my hair. I reach back with my free hand and caress the top of his head.

  “Gimme the phone.” He murmurs into my hair.

  “It’s just Kellan. He wanted to make sure you hadn’t taken me to an underground torture chamber or something.”

  “I know, let me talk to him.” Trevor lifts his head and thrusts his hand up, prompting me to give him the phone.

  I furrow my brow. “Kellan? Hold on, Trevor wants to talk to you.”

  “What? He’s still there? Fabulous! Put all six feet of his yumminess on the line!”

  I hold the phone out to Trevor. “Kellan? . . . No, call me Trevor . . . Yes, she’s fine. I just wanted to thank you for sending that text. I’m going to have to buy you a Rolex or something in return. Something big . . . No worries, safe and sound . . . Yeah, that too . . . Kellan? Say good night, OK? . . . Yeah, I’ll tell her . . . See ya.”

  Trevor takes the phone and sets it on the small coffee table behind us. I pull his shirt closer against my skin and wrap my arms around my body because he’s too far away.

  “What was that all about?”

  “He asked if you were safe and satisfied.” He steps back to me, gloriously naked with the burgeoning light of daybreak illuminating his skin. Taking me in his arms again, he murmurs. “I told him you were.”

  I close my eyes and let him surround me. The glass throws off a chill but everything about how we are counteracts that.

  “You looked totally gorgeous standing there, when I came out. I didn’t say that before, I’m sorry.” Trevor props his head on my shoulder and rolls his chin down. “I didn’t tell you how beautiful you are. And now, all fucking sexy sleepy and wrapped up in my shirt. . . . Knowing you’re naked underneath and in front of this window, it’s so right.”

  Pressing into me, moving his hands over my skin, he pauses to pull open the shirt so that the front of my naked body is on display.

  “Spread your legs for me, baby,” he whispers and slides his hands over my hips. I place my palms against the glass, letting him do and say a hundred things that make me feel beautiful.

  Once we tumble back to the bed, it’s lights-out for a while. The kind of comatose sleep that comes in the descent of endorphins, cortisol, testosterone, and whatever else lust produces. I don’t remember anything after Trevor gently drew me from the window and steered us toward the bed. We crawled under the cool sheets and slid our bodies against each other, where everything fell still and quiet.

  Right up until the hotel clock ruined everything with a shrill, unnecessarily loud beeping alarm. I drag myself over Trevor’s body, which is sprawled out over three-quarters of the bed, and smack at the alarm indiscriminately.

  “Did you set the alarm last night?” I groan out to him.

  Trevor quietly clears his throat, but his voice is still thick and rough. “Trust me, setting the alarm did not cross my mind at any point last night.”

  Continuing to press buttons, I whack at the top of the clock until I manage to do something that makes it stop. Once it shuts up, I look at the display. While a ten a.m. wake-up call in my regular life would be getting up late, today it feels like an early death sentence. Groaning again, I let my body fall on top of his.

  “It’s ten. My flight is at three this afternoon. I have to get out of this bed at some point soon.”

  Trevor draws his hand across my naked back tenderly, drawing his fingertips up and down my spine, then over my backside.

  “Plenty of time, don’t worry. I don’t want to think about that right now.”

  Eventually, he stops drawing his fingers on my back and focuses entirely on my
ass, grazing so lightly it feels like feathers against my skin. I hitch one of my knees up just a small bit, opening my legs so that he can feel it.

  “What would you rather think about right now?”

  “You.”

  I push up on my arms, just enough to see his face. His eyes are closed and a small grin plays across his mouth. It feels like I’m watching him dream.

  “Care to be more specific?”

  His eyes flutter open and he trains his gaze on mine.

  “You riding me.”

  Even after the last few hours, this makes my skin flush instantly. My first instinct is to say something smart, something to diffuse the erotic charge that’s bouncing off every part of me. Maybe if I make it a joke, it won’t feel so powerful. Instead, I drop my face away from his, seizing back a faint ability to think straight.

  “Don’t look away.” Trevor brushes the hair back from my face and draws it over my shoulder. “Sit up so I can see you.”

  Pushing up from my prone position, I pull one leg over and sit astride him, far enough back that I can drag my hands down his chest, his hips, and over his semi-erect cock. Licking my lips as I fondle him gently, I bring my face up to see him. He looks so relaxed, so sated and happy that I can’t help but smile.

  “You’re the best view, just like that. Smiling, totally fucking naked, and stroking my dick.” Trevor grins at me and then lets his mouth drop open a little.

  My eyes wander over him, landing on the scroll-like tattoo on his forearm. “Why don’t you have more tattoos?”

  Glancing down at his arm, he shrugs. “I don’t know, I’m just not into them that much. They hurt like a son of a bitch and I’ll admit that I’m probably too soft to handle any more ink. Are you disappointed?”

  I actually laugh. “Are you serious? There isn’t a single tiny thing about your body that I could be disappointed in. I just figured it was some kind of requirement for being a big-deal rock star and all.” Tracing one hand over the tattoo’s edges, I raise his arm up to see it better. The words are familiar and when I finish reading it all, I look up at him.