by Ada Winter
Celia is worth it, though. She is worth the wait. I’m just an overgrown adolescent with a sex drive rivaling any pimple-faced teenager. I’ve always just gone for it in the past, but with Celia, I have to adopt some new methods.
So much had occurred these past few days. Celia is in to me. That I know for sure. This needs to happen at her pace if it’s going to work out between us.
Tonight she asked me to kiss her and so I did. I didn’t force myself on her like an over-sexed gorilla. She invited me and I obliged. Now the door was closed in my face and I had to stay on this side of it.
Simple right? No, not simple. But necessary. This is a long-term deal here, Lane. Not some hussy you picked up at a bar after downing a six-pack and then reacting to lowered inhibitions. Celia was the real deal. She was special. Is special.
All right, dude. Time to man up and do the right thing. It must have taken at least an hour before I fell into a deep slumber. I was, after all, in Celia’s house just 15 feet from her bed. A guy could do worse.
****
Celia shook my shoulder gently and I can smell her before I ever open my eyes. She has just showered and is wrapped up in a white fluffy robe that hides her body from my prying eyes.
She smells good. It’s that Lavender Love shampoo, I’m sure. Celia brushes out her hair in full view of me in front of the bathroom mirror. I can get used to seeing this every morning for the rest of my life. She looks so beautiful. Just perfect.
I get up from the couch, wobbly from the crunched position my legs were forced into on the not-so-comfy couch. I’m still only wearing my boxer briefs with no shirt, and I can see Celia sneak a look at me once or twice. It is subtle, but I know when I am being checked out. It is like a sixth sense from my player days. Even though it had only been a couple weeks or so since meeting Celia, those player days are gone. Long gone.
She had brewed a fresh pot of coffee for me and I eagerly took liberties of pouring myself a big cup. I suck it down like water, savoring the familiar rush of caffeine as it clears my head from grogginess to groggy-less.
Her place is pretty small, great for one or two people. Everything seems to have its place, there is no hook with nothing on it and herbs are hanging with rough pieces of twine from three exposed beams. It is a cathedral ceiling-style with a loft and two skylights, one on either side of the roof. They are the type you can open to circulate the air. The kitchen is small, but it has everything, including a nice island in the center.
There are books seemingly everywhere, and it’s clear she is well-read. I see pictures of her family on one shelf, but I pause before looking more closely considering the odd reaction she had to talking about her family.
She is back in her bedroom but emerges in record time, adorned in simple patchwork jeans and a white flowing cotton shirt that laces up in the front. I’d like to pull out those laces.…
“Lane, there’s some coffee…oh…I see you found it.” She smiles.
“I have a certain nose for it.”
She finishes brewing her tea and pours it into a mug. I’m not familiar with the smell, but according to the tag it’s Chamomile.
“I’m not rushing you out or anything, Lane, but I need to get over to the stables to check on Lucky. A horse like that needs a lot of attention, and early.”
“I was thinking of calling the rental car place. Amanda, my assistant, does a great job of running the center without me, but I just need to be there. The kids look up to me like a father and I’m sure they’re missing me.” I don’t think either of us plan for our morning to start quite like this, but reality is calling us back to duty.
“Okay. If you can be ready soon, I’ll drop you off on my way in.”
“Sure, Celia. Can I grab a quick shower before we go?”
“Of course.”
“You can watch me if you like.”
“Pervs like that stuff, don’t they?”
“They…I mean, yes, we do.”
A guy can have a little fun, can’t he?
Ten minutes later, and after a couples slices of whole wheat toast with butter, I am in the shower. Correction. In Celia’s shower. It would be so much better if she was in here with me, but there would be time for that later. Right now, I am enjoying the smells – her smells – as I wash with her soap and shampoo with the Lavender Love. There is girly stuff all around, like loofahs and apricot body scrubs. I guess she has to do some work to keep that skin super smooth.
After toweling off in Celia’s room – I may have left the door slightly ajar – I changed into clean clothes. I never saw her lurking around out there, but I could always hope that she snuck a peek. Her bed is queen-sized and the sheets are in a tangled mess. The pillow still has the imprint of her face, and I picture myself lying there next to her, in spoon position with nothing but our nakedness and each other to play with.
“Lane, I have to go.” Her voice is urgent, and I know my creepy fantastical tour of her bedroom will have to be continued another time.
I gather my stuff and we are off. She really does need to get in and I have a three hour ride back. With any luck, I’d get there by noon and still be able to put in a half day.
****
The Enterprise dealer is in downtown Bar Harbor, and fortunately it isn’t too far out of her way. After spending over two amazing days together, I am being left on the curb. It feels bad in a way, but it really isn’t. Celia isn’t going to get away from me without a parting gift.
I lean over the console, place my hand gently behind her head and pull her toward me. We kiss deeply and for what seems like a long ass period of time for someone who is supposedly in a big hurry to get to the stables. It must have lasted at least a minute. A very good minute.
There is no need for words. The kiss says it all. The sky is the limit as far as we are both concerned.
Chapter 22
CELIA
After checking on Lucky, I feel confident that he will adjust just fine after I take him through the paces. He is much calmer than when I picked him up yesterday morning, and he is already getting to know his stable mates. They are an easy bunch to get along with, but still, it’s a positive sign. I rinse him with the sprayer and then brush him down. That seems to soothe him even more.
My mind wanders to Lane. I hope he didn’t feel like I was rushing him out of my place today. That kiss certainly made it seem like he wasn’t mad. Damn, he knew how to kiss better than any guy I’d ever been with. There had been that special first kiss when I was sixteen, but we were kids and neither of us knew what we were doing. I remember it as sweet, though.
Should I have let him share my bed last night? He looked so miserable out on that couch all squished up and by himself. It was the right thing to do, though, I think. I needed to know for sure that he respected me first, then everything else would follow.
The sound of a car pulling up next to the barn interrupts my thoughts and I walk to see who it is. The logo on the side is familiar: Dave’s Florist is emblazoned on the side in grass green with a yellow flower centered on the logo.
A girl in her late teens with translucent braces steps out of the vehicle. She opens the trunk and fishes out an arrangement, then walks over to me with a handful of sunflowers in hand.
“Are you Celia Brennan?”
“Yes.”
“These are for you.”
“Thank you.”
I lay the flowers down and open the card. I wait for the girl to leave as I want to be alone when I read it. It is written in Lane’s handwriting.
Dear Celia,
Roses are red,
violets are blue,
you are so beautiful,
and I wanted to tell you.
I had the best time,
a guy could have,
and that every moment was
as perfect as you.
I will travel across three states,
or to the moon and back,
if it mean
s that we can meet
for another date.
To kiss you,
it felt so right,
so please won’t you agree,
to see me tonight.
~ Your Secret Admirer
I burst out in tears about halfway through and had to fight through them to finish reading the card. On one hand, the poetry is childlike, but it’s inherently sweet. Beautiful. Touching.
Most importantly, he wrote it from his heart.
Chapter 23
CELIA
It was nearly impossible to work after that. Lane had taken the time to write that poem and order flowers before he left town. Sweet.
I felt light and airy as I floated through my chores at the stable. Everything smelled fresh and new to me and my heart was alive with intermittent flutters. It was a seemingly small gesture, but it meant so much to me. To us. For us.
Lane had continuously pushed the envelope showing his affection for me, and this was the first time ever a guy had written poetry for me. As cheesy as it was, it touched my heart. He was thinking of me even when he was not with me, and that counted for a lot.
Men are different from women. While we may spend the whole day thinking about a guy, they may only spend five minutes or less. Not all of them are that way, I’m sure, but it’s a slanted scale. When you meet a guy like that, one who is willing to go the extra mile, one who thinks about you throughout the day, that guy deserves a shot. It’s a guy who may be a keeper.
Lane has touched me in so many ways. And now I will let him in so that he cn touch me in so many other ways. Inappropriate ways.
I feel devilish in my thoughts, but my physical connection to Lane is there. I want him.
I know he wants me.
So what am I waiting for?
****
My finger pauses over the button of the phone before I get the nerve to hit it. Typing now and send.
Celia: I received the flowers and the message today. I love them!
A few minutes waiting.
Maybe he is busy.
Then bouncing dots on the screen.
Lane: You know, I almost went to school for poetry, but I was so bad, a good friend talked me out of it.
Celia: That’s what friends are for. I’m happy you came out of retirement, even if it was only for this one time.
Lane: You inspire me Celia.
Celia: Don’t exaggerate Lane.
Lane: I mean it. I’ve never written poetry for anyone else. You’re my first.
Celia: Well, if I’m your first then that’s something. I miss you already Lane.
Lane: It was really hard leaving today. I was needed here to put out some fires but now I’m free.
Celia: Did you say you’re free?
Lane: Free and lonely.
Celia: That’s sad. Can you think of anyone who can help you with that?
Lane: Only one special person.
Celia: Is this person a she?
Lane: Yes.
Celia: Then maybe you should go see her. Maybe she’s feeling lonely too.
Lane: See her when?
Celia: Right now.
Chapter 24
LANE
Holy shit! I’m there. I’d done this hundreds of times before, but this time is different. I had a thing for Celia. As far as I was concerned, she was all mine.
Everything is happening so fast. Just a short time ago, I spied a beautiful woman with red hair and a fantastic ass. It was the ass that first caught my attention. I knew I wanted her. At the beginning, I was only thinking about bagging her, but now….
I can’t think straight. I wait a minute or two for the bulge in my pants to subside, and then I grab my jacket and briefcase and walk out the door.
“Amanda, cancel all my meetings for today and tomorrow. I should be back in a few days.”
“Lane, you have that meeting with Sanders on that placement. He’s going to be pissed.” It was that exasperated look that Amanda had given me so many times before.
She had been with me for some time now and knew I often thought with my cock first, and my brain second. It is no way to run a business, but hey, I am the boss and I call the shots. There is a hot redhead waiting for me and I am already wasting time.
She must have read my thoughts. “So, what’s her name?”
****
I pack an overnight bag and hop on my Harley-Davidson XL1200C Sportster. She’s a beauty with shiny reflective black paint and silver pinstripe trim that finishes her tank, tons of chrome and a smooth touring-type ride. I love the way she moves. Loud and fast. Nothing, I mean nothing, sounds like a Harley.
The east coast highway along the coast of Maine is the quickest way I know and it will still take a good three hours to get back to Bar Harbor. I had just done this drive earlier today, but I didn’t care.
I was going to see my girl. Funny. I remember taking short rides to go see women eager for my company. This is not the same. Celia is special and I want everything to be perfect. I’d never felt nervous before.
Well, there was the one time when I was sixteen and Marley invited me over when her parents were out of town. She suggested we go skinny dipping in her pool and it was the first time I was bare naked in front of anyone except my doctor.
That had been over ten years ago and I had been with hundreds of women since then. No shyness now. I had the goods and I knew how to deliver.
Many thoughts cross my mind on this trip, and the first thing that strikes me was that I am thinking of my future. My future with Celia. I had never really done that before with a woman. I haven’t even slept with her yet and I still know she is the one for me.
The winding roadway and the view of the ocean makes this the perfect ride. The clouds are puffy white off to the east as the sun is lowering in the sky.
With the wind in my face and the thoughts of sweet Celia in my head, I am happier than I ever remember.
Chapter 25
CELIA
The sheets are washed, dried lavender hangs from the eaves, and all I can think about is Lane. All this is for him. I chill some wine and some beers, of course. Stella Artois…his favorite.
I feel like a giddy schoolgirl waiting for my date to arrive for the prom. Although my date, John Wexler, turned out to be a dud. I fed the guy every hint that night, but all he wanted to do was talk about himself. He was gorgeous, but he only talked about his football scholarship to the University of Maryland. I was eye-candy, I suppose. Why don’t you go play with your football and drop me off at home on the way?
Lane is no John Wexler. He will be all business. I am his business, and he made it clear his intentions were to get me into bed. I want him bad. I ache for him.
Rummaging through my closet, I find the sexiest, slinkiest, skin-tight jet black dress I have. It is short and provides the easy-access I know that he wants. I look hot as hell in this dress.
Gas fireplace lit, shoes off and laying on the couch in a provocative way, I pour myself a glass of Pinot Grigio.
****
I awake to the sound of a throaty motor, then I hear a rap on the door and the glass frosted front shows me a clear silhouette of a hulking figure. The broad-shouldered shadow stands with his hands on his hips in a powerful stance. Here we go.
Straightening my dress and smoothing my hair as I walk towards the door, my feet brushing softly against the fur carpet, I slowly open the door.
Lane looks gorgeous in his black leather jacket, dark jeans and riding boots. I can see his Harley just beyond his left shoulder. His face is wind-burned and his eyes are tearing slightly from the ride. They sparkle. He looks me up and down starting with my feet, appreciating my every curve with a nod of approval until his eyes meet mine.
I feel heated fluttering in my core as he slowly makes his way toward me. No words. His arms wrapp around me and our lips meet first. I can’t believe how soft they feel against mine.
Velvety smooth.
<
br /> Our tongues dart back and forth soaking in each other’s saliva. We are breathing each other in. I feel his rock-hard bulge pressing into my belly and I know right then and there that he is packed and ready to go.
My hand reaches down to find the button on his jeans as he uses both of his hands to remove his leather jacket and lets it drop to the floor. Our lips never part as his mouth probes mine harder and deeper.
I free his member from his jeans and boxers, and I can feel it pulsing like a caged bull against my seemingly small hands. It is raging hard and ready to charge.
His hands edge up under my short skirt seeking my center. He groans when he realizes that I’m not wearing any panties. The slick wetness between my legs surprises him, as one hand cups my ass while his other probes my pussy. His gentle touch sends electric shockwaves through my body and I know there’s no going back.
Let go and enjoy, Celia. Take him in. This is right.
He lifts me off the ground with one hand, as I wrap my now trembling legs around his ass. My back slides gently on the couch as he guides my head onto a fluffy white throw pillow.
Lane’s lips leave mine, and I would protest but I know what comes next. He kisses his way down my neck, stopping to focus on my breasts just briefly. Lane’s skilled tongue continues its way slowly down to my belly button, then to my sweet spot.
My whole body shudders under the sensation of his tongue darting in and out of my now hot sticky and throbbing pussy. His vice arms grip my thighs to the side of his face as his stubble tickles me deeply on my inner thighs.
I am grasping at pillows now and squeezing the stuffing out of two of them. They have lost their shape and will never be the same. I will never be the same.
