It doesn’t help that Kyle knows exactly who I am: The ‘Bad Boy.’ The serial womanizer for whom a third date is a long-term relationship. The Romeo whose mother tongue is body language, and who’s worked through the Kama Sutra twice over. The guy who hates reliability, sticking around, and building a genuine emotional connection that lasts – precisely the things that Kyle wants for Jessie.
I get so terrified thinking of Kyle’s reaction that I over hit every drive well past the green. It’s not just the fact that Kyle would leave me scattered in several pieces all over L.A. if he found out, it’s the betrayal. Kyle’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember. And now that I’m an adult, he and Jessie are the only friends I’ve kept for that long. He was there when I needed a friend – which was pretty much my entire childhood…
If Kyle wasn’t so protective, so damned judgmental, things would be fine. Things will be fine. Jessie and I are on the same page now. What happens at the retreat, stays at the retreat. Once we leave Napa, we’ll just forget all of this happened – last night, this morning, whatever happens next…
Around the sixteenth hole I start thinking about what will happen next. Just thinking about how Jessie looked this morning, naked and hungry between my thighs, makes me shudder and tighten up with the prospect of a round two. Her ass in those jean-shorts, her lips in the pool, the sounds of her losing control when she comes.
Then another thought strikes me like a blow to the head. If anything goes this weekend, then why the fuck am I out here playing golf?
I clear my throat. “Gentlemen, I’m very sorry to, uh, leave this so close to the end, but I’ve got to get back to the retreat,” I say suddenly, already walking backwards.
The others look at each other and then back at me. “Something wrong?”
“Yeah. Nothing serious…actually, yeah it’s serious. An emergency.” I wave my cell phone, as if I’ve just received an urgent message. “I’ve really got to get back. It’s urgent.”
“It must be,” David laughs. “If you’re going to try and get back on foot. Here, take my car. We’ll all try to squeeze into Jim’s car – God knows it’s big enough.”
David tosses me his keys and I offer a quick salute of gratitude before turning and jogging back through the course, the sound of their laughter behind me.
Several broken speed limits and a bad parking job later I’m running through the grounds of the retreat asking people where ‘Tessa’ is like I’m looking for a criminal on the run. Eventually I find her stretched out on a lounge chair by the pool, deep in conversation with a vaguely familiar Australian woman in big sunglasses who looks like she’s just as enamored with Jessie as I am. She’s wearing nothing but a bikini under a thin, see-through sarong and she grins at me when she sees me jogging toward her. As if I needed any more convincing.
“Hey, Tessa!” I say, stepping in front of them.
“Oh, hey. You’re back early. This is Caroline. Where’s everyone else?”
“Um…they’re on their way. I had to come back before them. Something…I need you for a moment.”
Jessie looks at Caroline then back at me.
“Can we do it later?” Jessie asks, ever-so-slightly pleading.
“Not really. But it won’t take long…I mean, not if…”
“Oh, it’s fine, darling,” Caroline says in her Australian drawl. “I’m not planning to move from here until they stop serving drinks – which they’d better not.”
Jessie beams at the woman as she gets up.
“Great! Enjoy the daiquiris. I’ll be right back.”
“Bye Nate,” Caroline says with a grin before turning back to her cocktail.
I grab Jessie gently by the arm and urge her forward alongside me.
“Do you know who that was?” she asks in a shocked whisper as soon as we’re out of earshot.
“Caroline, right?”
“Yes! Caroline Tiernan. She’s, like, the most amazing costume designer around right now! She just arrived this morning!”
“Great.”
“We’ve been talking for hours. She is so awesome.”
“I told you this trip would be worth it,” I say, as I bring her inside the retreat and guide her through the corridors.
“She’s been going through some of my ideas with me. I think I’ve learned more today than I did in my three years of costuming classes in college.”
“That’s really fucking awesome!”
“That’s not even the most awesome thing – she wants me to show her my designs!”
“And thus, a star is born.”
“I’m just on such a high right now, I don’t think I’ve ever – wait, what’s going on? Why did you drag me back to the room?”
I shove open the door, drag her inside, slam it shut, then slam her up against it.
“Oh,” she says, her surprised eyes narrowing into a look of suggestive mischief. “I see.”
Pressing my body up against hers, I take a moment to appreciate having her to myself again. The smell of her sun-baked skin filling my nose, our faces so close I can see the flecks of yellow in her hazel eyes, lips so close I feel every fragile breath on my face. I rake my fingers gently up her side, enjoying the way her skin trembles under my touch, until I find the string of her bikini top, and reach around to her back.
“Since nothing counts while we’re here,” I whisper, bringing my lips close to her ear, “I wanna make the most of it.”
She giggles a little, throaty and deep. It’s a green light, a red flag, a starting pistol. Her way of saying ‘go for it, I’m all yours.’ I put my hand around her throat and guide her mouth to mine, pressing swollen and wet lips together, tongues flickering against each other like stoked flames. Bolts of strength surge through my body as I press up against her, my nerves overloaded with desire for her. My hands work automatically, untying her bikini top and tearing it off her as she moans and gasps at the aggression of my tongue-fucking, giving herself entirely to the power of my body forced against her.
Dirty, nasty, beastly feelings I never knew I had start to take over. I’ve never felt this guilty, this wrong, and I’m starting to see why it’s so popular – it’s a hell of an aphrodisiac. Turning me wild, untamable, an animal whose only purpose is to fuck. I grab her arm and pull her away from the wall, tossing her face first onto the bed and then stalking up behind her, undoing my fly, like I’m picking my moment to pounce. She looks back at me, over her shoulder, a sly grin on her lips. A challenge.
I grab her sarong, tied in a loose knot, and pull it away like a showman, unveiling the irresistible line of her waist, the statuesque arch of her back. On the bed, on all fours, she lowers her head like a cat stretching, pushing her ass up and back towards me, a ripe peach ready for plucking, a sweeping landscape begging to be explored.
“Give it to me,” she moans.
I smack my hand against her ass and she squeals with delight. I run my hand roughly down the slope of her back, up to her hair, the grab a fistful and pull it, causing her to gasp with thrilled surprise. My cock nestles between her ass cheeks, and she rolls a little back and forth, gently stroking it between those enticing humps.
“So you like it rough?” I snarl, plucking a condom from my pocket and tearing it open with my teeth.
Her husky laugh tells me she does, and I smack her ass once again, this time drawing a long moan from her. I pull her hips back toward me and grab her ponytail in a firm tug, forcing her to press herself up against me. The condom now on my cock, I move it down between her ass, down to her pussy, pushing it between her thighs, enjoying the way she squeezes it between them, the way the smooth fabric of her bikini bottoms feels against its head.
“Take off that suit right now,” I growl, low and mean, as I grip her roughly, teasing her clit through her suit bottoms. “And put me inside you.”
Anxious and tense, her every breath trailing off into a high-pitched moan, Jessie unties her bottoms and throws them onto the floor, reaching between her
legs to grab my cock, guiding it towards her. As I press against her slick entrance, she cries out in a frenzy, grinding her hips back to meet me as my hard length finally pushes between her pussy lips.
“Oh my God,” she gasps, as I slam myself inside her tight warmth. “Oh my God.”
“You like that?” I whisper, pushing and pulling inside her slowly as I stroke her ass, letting our rhythms sync, letting her pussy feel every ridge and curve of my cock.
“Yes,” Jessie wails, drawing out the word out to three times its length.
“Beg me for it,” I command, as the slow explorations become powerful thumps.
“Please, Nate,” Jessie squeals, her voice wobbling with every thrust. “Please.”
I reach forward and grab her ponytail again, holding her hair tight, forcing her to bring her head back, coaxing her to lose control. Then I bring my palm down again on her ass cheeks, enjoying how her firm body feels under my hands.
“More,” she sighs between her desperate breaths, “harder.”
Our hips smash together over and over again, crashing together like tidal waves, my cock venturing inside her like a bolt of thunder striking and rumbling, sending ripples across her flesh. Her pussy squeezing and pulsating around the stiffness of my cock. I pull her hair harder, my other hand going to her breast now, pinching her hard nipple between my knuckles until she cries out with the combination of lust and pain.
I fuck Jessie as if I’m angry with her, as if punishing her with pleasure, as if I blame her for making me so damned horny. I take the ball of tense desire that her tight little body makes me feel and direct it back at her in those crashing drives, those bombs of sensory overload.
“Fuck, your pussy’s good,” I snarl, panting furiously.
Jessie loses control, her face pressed into the bed, her hand to her mouth as she lets out a cacophony of stuttered breaths, broken moans, and long shrieks. I focus on her, my eyes gorging on the sight of her perfect shape. I run my hands around her ass, allow myself to rake my fingers across the artistic indents of her back, leaning over to pull on the delicate arc of her shoulder. It’s too much to take in, too much beauty, too much feminine allure, and it pushes me over the edge, saps the last bit of self-control from me.
She lets out a louder, longer, higher moan, and it’s music to my ears, the final trigger. I come like a dropped bomb, explosive and destructive, all my strength gathered into the point of our connection. Her pussy tightens as she does the same, and for a few magnificent seconds we’re lost at sea, clutching onto each other as the waves roll and rumble around us, clinging onto one another as we ride out the storm and see where we wash up.
Shattered but content, Jessie stretches out her arms and then curls up on the bed, while I roll over and lie on my back beside her. For a few minutes we just lie there next to each other as our breathing slows and goes silent. I turn my head to look at her, and see that she’s already looking at me, the slightest hint of a smile on her lips.
“I haven’t been fucked like that for a very long time,” she says, her voice quiet and husky.
I chuckle a little and look back at up at the ceiling.
“I haven’t needed it that bad for a very long time, either.”
After a little pause, Jessie says, “It’s still just sex, right? Just while we’re here?”
“Yeah,” I say, hoping that Jessie is convinced, though barely convincing myself. “It’s still just sex.”
11
Nate
The tension between me and Jessie as we begin our long drive back down to L.A. is so thick you could swim in it.
Since I started my video blog the one question I got more than any other was about how to deal with the morning after. The sense of embarrassment between two people that makes you talk to each other like bad actors with a half-written script. The memories of what you did the night before looking a whole lot worse in the unforgiving light of day. Avoiding conversation not because you both regret something, but because you’re not sure if you regret it for exactly the same reasons.
I’ve got a whole new appreciation for those questions right now, and a load of new material for my blog.
Once the polite goodbyes to the rest of the people at the retreat were said, and the bags shoved quickly into the back of my car, we got inside and haven’t said a word in the hour since.
To be honest, we hadn’t talked much for the entire Sunday. Not unless commanding each other to do various things ‘harder’ and ‘faster’ counts as ‘talking.’
Rushing back from the golf course on Saturday turned out to be the tip of the iceberg. After that we were late for dinner because we fucked in the shower, left the table early to go for a walk and fucked up against a tree at the far edge of the vineyard, then had a few drinks with the others before finally doing it in the pool. I’d never met a woman whose stamina could match mine the way Jessie’s did, and it turned out that learning Jason the porter’s first name was a smart move when we ended up needing him to discreetly get us more condoms, having exhausted my supply…although judging by the satisfied look on Dominique’s face over dinner, it seemed possible that the porter had needed some for himself anyway.
After another morning-call blowjob, we had a long serious talk about how all of this was a bad idea, and how we needed to stop doing it. We both promised vehemently that was it, then broke the promise around forty-five seconds later when we passed each other a little too close on the way to the bathroom.
During a quick lunch where a few others commented on how much time we were spending in our room, and how low-energy both of us seemed, I thought on my feet and told everyone Jessie was feeling a little ill. I think they bought it, though I don’t know for sure, because Jessie and I finished eating quickly and took advantage of the excuse to spend the rest of the day working through more positions than an Olympic gymnastics routine.
We were right about one thing, though, which was that things would change as soon as we left the retreat. The second I pulled out of the long driveway and hit the main roads, the cold realization of what had just happened descended upon us like a blanket made of guilt and embarrassment. As if the retreat itself was a dream in which anything goes, and the long drive south was the journey back to reality.
“Nate…” Jessie says quietly, after about twenty miles of the most focused driving I’ve ever done in my life.
“Yeah?” I say, sounding perky.
“Are we…just not gonna talk about this weekend?”
I wrap my fingers tightly around the wheel as anxiety bubbles up from deep in my soul.
“What’s to talk about? It was an arrangement. It was just sex—”
“Right. Just while we were at the retreat. It doesn’t count,” Jessie interrupts wearily. “I know the lines by now, Nate. We’ve been saying them all weekend.”
“Right.”
She takes a breath. “But…was it?”
“Was it what?”
“You know what.”
“I don’t.”
Jessie throws her head back and sighs.
“Come on, Nate. Don’t be unfair.”
I curb myself before spitting out another dismissive, instinctual response. Normally I’d shrug it off, but this particular situation – because it’s Jessie – is anything but normal for me and for once I have no idea how to react. She must notice my change in expression, because instead of pushing me again, she waits for me to talk.
“I don’t know, Jessie,” I say, and it comes out sounding like an admittance of defeat. “I’ve got a million questions I’ve got to answer myself before we can talk about it.”
I glance over and she nods with empathy.
“Okay,” she says, more strength in her voice now. “How about we get back to L.A., leave each alone for a few days, and then we can talk about it.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“I mean, we’re cool, right?”
“Of course,” I say, looking at her to show I mean it. “We’re always
cool. It’s us.”
“Good,” Jessie says, smiling a little.
We don’t talk much for the rest of the journey, both of us comfortable enough with Jessie’s idea of giving each other some time to just relax and enjoy the drive, and the rambling tunes on the radio filling the quiet space. For a while, I can almost believe that things really are cool, that we can really just go back to the way things were.
But then I look over at her, and realize that rationally, reasonably, and objectively, my mind might understand, but my body’s going to take much longer to forget.
Eventually I pull up outside her apartment, and I get out to help her with her heavy bags up the elevator and to her apartment. She opens the door, takes the bags from me, and walks a little way into the apartment before turning back towards me.
“Guess my roommate’s out on another gossip assignment.”
I nod, not sure of what to say, because the only thought going through my head is the fact that we could fuck right here in her apartment and nobody needs to know. Jessie smiles awkwardly at me, and the whole vibe of weirdness between us seems to make one last flourish before we can leave each other.
“So…” Jessie says, lifting her arms and dropping them to her sides in a shrug.
“So…I guess I’ll see you?”
“Yeah. Um…call me?”
“Okay.”
We shuffle our feet and continue smiling bashfully. I wait for her to make a gesture, like closing the door, or stepping back, or for my body to turn around and walk away in the manner that any normal situation would dictate, but it doesn’t happen.
“Well, bye Nate,” Jessie says, opening her arms wide for a goodbye hug.
Confessions of a Bad Boy Page 11
