A Taste of Bliss

by Adrian R. Hale

  He keeps walking, taking my upside down and undignified pink clad ass away from the picnic and across the lawn. “Where are we going?” I ask a moment before I am sailing through the air. The cool water of the pool gushes up my nose as I go under. I kick my legs and sputter as I break the surface. I tread water as I delicately wipe my makeup out of my eyes, knowing I must look like a drowned raccoon thanks to not wearing anything waterproof. And my light pink dress is probably see-through now. Awesome.

  “I seriously can’t believe you just threw me in the pool. You’re an asshole, Talan. What if I couldn’t swim? It’s going to suck driving back to San Francisco in a wet dress. And oh, my poor car…” I trail off.

  Talan unbuttons the top of his shirt, grasps the collar, and pulls it off in one fluid motion. He empties his pockets onto a lounge chair and turns toward the pool. I have a second to take in his perfectly sculpted chest and the set of washboard abs he’s revealed before he jumps into the pool. He breaks the surface in front of me, shaking water out of his face. A heated second passes before he pulls me to his chest and crushes his lips against mine. We sink under the surface when it becomes too hard to tread water with our legs entwined. I don’t fight the pull of gravity as I enjoy the suddenness of his kiss. My mouth fills with water as I try to let him in, and my instinct is to breathe in through my nose. I push off of him and gasp for air when my head is once again above water. I cough out the water and swim backwards until I can stand. Talan follows closely, stopping when our chests are inches apart, but not touching me.

  “Did that scare you, Bliss? Was it unpredictable enough?” Lust softens the serious expression on his face, his gravelly voice heating me in the cool water.

  I touch my lips, still struggling to get my breathing under control. Yes, it did scare me. Whether it was being tossed in the pool, his kiss, or feeling like I was going to drown, I can’t tell. I do know that I want him to kiss me again, this time without the fear of drowning.

  I close the small gap between us, wrapping my arms around his neck as I bring my mouth to his again. His lips open immediately, allowing my tongue entry and caressing it in return. Strong hands cup my ass, picking me up and holding me flush against him as I wrap my legs around his hips. I run my fingers through his hair, pulling his head back sharply as I break our kiss and lick my way to his neck, tasting chlorine and the subtle hint of him. The rumbling groan and the tight grip he has on me are all the encouragement I need. I kiss up his neck and pull his earlobe with my teeth. He turns his face to capture my mouth just as he hits the steps and walks us out of the pool to lay me on a lounge chair.

  My hair is plastered to my face and my makeup is burning my eyes, but I honestly don’t care at this moment. Who needs functioning vision when this feels so good? Talan hasn’t stopped kissing me, but I can feel his enthusiasm to move on pressed tight against me. I work my hands down his chest, across his taut stomach toward my final destination. Palming him elicits a groan so deep I can feel it in my chest, pressed so tight against his. I squeeze him gently, careful of the wet denim between us.

  His hands find mine. Raising my arms above my head, he holds them there with one hand. His lips leave my mouth and move down my neck. I arch my chest against him when he licks the hollow of my collarbone. He palms my breast, massaging till my nipples pebble under the thin, wet material. I let my legs relax around him, feeling him settle perfectly flush against me.

  A need builds as he continues to kiss my neck and massage my breasts. A whimper escapes my mouth as I grind against him, needing more friction to ease the ache inside of me. His hand leaves my breast to land on my thigh, hitching my leg higher over his hip. This new position allows me to rub against him easier. I take full advantage, grinding hard on him without hesitation. His mouth finds my nipple through wet fabric, causing me to suck in a gasp when he bites and pulls. He nuzzles the top of my dress away from my breast, freeing me to cool air before his hot mouth is on me once more.

  Through my bleary eyes I can make out the brilliant sunset streaking the sky with rainbow sherbet hues. It’s so beautiful, and he feels so good. I just need a little more to put out the fire that is raging inside me.

  “More,” I moan, undulating beneath him. I want to pull him closer with my hands that have stayed pinned by his.

  Talan groans against my chest, licking sweet trails of fire that the evening air cools. He finally releases my hands, which immediately find themselves tangled in his short, wet hair as he makes his way down my body. My dress is already pushed up over my hips, exposing my pink lace and satin panties. I feel him run his fingers along my inner thighs, working slowly toward the apex of my legs. My muscles tremble in anticipation, my core begging for his touch. He slides a finger under the band of my panties, lifting and moving them to the side, exposing me.

  “So beautiful. I like this,” he says, looking up at me from between my thighs. He softly strokes my bare skin, leaving me a quivering mass of exposed nerves.

  Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. This hasn’t been the bumbling, awkward first encounter I’m used to. Talan has completely thrown my past experiences out the door when he followed me into the pool for a kiss. That alone would have been enough to make me bold, but I am also made brave by the idea that I never have to see him again.

  I push his head toward where I would really like him, asking him to go down on me in an audacious move that otherwise wouldn’t have happened on a first date. If that is even what this is. I feel Talan chuckle as he obliges, breathing softly against my folds as he continues to tease me with his finger.

  “You want my mouth on you, Bliss?” He speaks the words in hot puffs, his lips so close to my skin.

  “Mmm, yeah.” My breathy response surprises me. I may be feeling braver than normal, but I’m not a talker. I prefer action.

  Talan kisses my inner thigh, nuzzling his nose closer and closer. I want his mouth so bad I’m shaking. The building anticipation draws my muscles almost painfully taut. The moment his lips and tongue meet my skin, I moan wantonly. Who is this girl, writhing on a lounge chair in the great outdoors, asking a man to do bad things to her after only having met him hours before? Whoever she is, she’s way more sexually uninhibited than I am.

  She can stay for tonight.

  Talan mercilessly toys with me, slowly licking circles and lapping at me when I need it harder. I’m panting but growing frustrated.

  “I need you, harder. Please,” I add on, unsure how much that will construe the true level of need I am feeling. I hate this part; the having to ask for what you need most in the moment. I always have the hardest time asking for the right thing, and what I’ve said is a mild version of the need I am feeling. I’d really like him to drive into me hard and fast, but I’m a little hesitant to sound that desperate. Telling him harder is all my mind can come up with while focused on what is going on lower in my body.

  “What do you need, Bliss? Do you want my fingers? My mouth? Tell me what you want.” Damn Talan for playing with me.

  “All of you, I want all of you,” I manage, rocking my hips toward his mouth that has left my skin to ask me stupid questions.

  “Oh baby, I’d like to give you all of me,” I hear him murmur before he returns to my slick folds, flicking my clit hard with his tongue and sliding two fingers inside of me quickly.

  The incessant pressure is finally relieved, my body shattering as he strokes and licks and sucks me to release. Unintelligible words form on my lips, leaving me unsure if I have spoken aloud or merely gasped. He softly coaxes the final pulses from me as I come down from my high in that place of no substance and all sensation.

  My body is limp, my legs resting heavily on Talan’s shoulders. My arms lay by my sides, my hands tingling and unable even to grasp the cushion I am on. Above me, the night sky is shining with stars I didn’t realize had come out, and crickets chirp in the grass around us. I shiver as the cool night breeze chills my wet skin.

  “I think you rather liked that.”

&nbs
p; I look down my body and catch Talan’s superior grin. He knows he just rocked my world and had me begging for more. God, I’m so easy. He sucks his finger as he slides out from between my legs to crouch at the end of the lounger. If I weren’t so relaxed and in post-orgasm haze, I might have tried to come up with something clever to say in reply. Instead, he gets a tired shake of my head.

  “Come on princess, I’ll take you inside.”

  Talan easily scoops me up into his arms, my head falling against his shoulder as he walks along the now lit paths toward the villa. It’s so pretty out here, with the landscaping lights blending with those that twinkle in the valley below. I can just make out the winery where the wedding is in full swing, and smile to myself knowing I helped the bridal party look their best.

  Once inside, Talan heads upstairs. He enters a large guestroom that has a huge king sized four-poster bed dominating the center. It looks incredibly inviting with the white fluffy duvet and mounds of pillows at the head.

  I’m surprised when Talan enters a connected bathroom and sets me on the edge of a big sunken garden tub. He walks back toward the door, causing my heart to constrict when I think he’s leaving, but he only grabs a fluffy robe off a hook in the corner. I smile as he returns to me, letting him pull the straps of my dress down my shoulders. He has me stand and lets the dress fall thickly around my feet. He hooks his thumbs in the band of my underwear, pulling them down my thighs and kneeling in front of me to help me step out. He places a lingering kiss on my hipbone before he stands and wraps me in the robe. I’m a little disappointed to be covered up, when undressing had caused the embers of my desire to flicker to life again.

  He takes me by the hand and leads me to the big bed, pulling back the covers for me to slide in. He quickly heads back to the bathroom, returning a moment later with a towel wrapped around his hips, his wet jeans gone. He crawls on top of the duvet and spoons me, pulling me close to his body with infuriating layers between us. I try to turn over to complain, but his arm locks down around me.

  “Shh, just rest.” He kisses away my protest, his lips skimming my cheek and resting above my ear. “There’s plenty of time for more later.” He draws his nose along my jaw and places a kiss on my damp hair before settling behind me.

  I want to tell him that there is no more time. Tell him this is our one chance to be together. The long day and post-orgasm bliss has my lids drooping closed before I say a thing.

  Chapter Three

  Early morning light streams through a huge picture window, settling on my face and pulling me from the sweetest dreams of motorcycle rides, picnics, and cuddling. Rubbing my eyes, I blink and see the nicely appointed room I am in is definitely not mine. I can tell I’m alone in this big, soft bed, but I cautiously turn over to make sure. No Talan anywhere. A note is propped on the pillow next to me in scrawled handwriting.

  Hope you slept well. Went to find breakfast. You looked too sweet to wake up.

  I cringe as I roll out of bed. I don’t normally stay the night when I hook up. I like to make my escape before the light of day illuminates all of the flaws of my decisions. I make my way into the bathroom, shocked at the hot mess that stares back at me from the mirror. How could he think this looked sweet? I look like Medusa and Courtney Love had a baby. My hair is flattened on one side, while sticking up wildly on the other, thanks to falling asleep with it wet. I flinch when I see my eyes ringed with my ruined mascara, causing me to run for the sink to scrub it off quickly. I use my fingers to comb through the snarled mess of my cotton candy hair, raking it into a defiant submission. My dress hangs on the hook my robe came from; now dry thanks to a thoughtful Talan. I quickly slip it on and head downstairs wondering what I will find.

  The first floor is silent, and the kitchen empty when I creep through to investigate. Our picnic dishes are washed and dried on a towel next to the sink, and my purse and shoes are on the island waiting for me. I check my phone, dangerously low on battery, and see a few missed calls and texts. My mom has called, and Willa sent a few texts wondering where I was. I see that I replied, letting her know I stayed in Sonoma overnight. Funny, I don’t remember sending her anything. Talan must have heard my phone go off when he put my purse here on the island. It was nice that he assured Willa of my safety, but a little creepy that he felt he could go through my phone. I should really enable my lock screen.

  It’s barely seven forty-five when I open the big front door and look around. Talan’s Ducati is gone, so I head to the Mini, feeling a little guilty that I’m slipping out without saying goodbye. I left a note for Talan on the kitchen island, thanking him for a wonderful evening. I decided not to leave my number, as in the wake of my sexual neediness last night, I’m feeling just a little embarrassed. I can’t believe I made him go down on me and didn’t even return the favor. God, I must seem so greedy. I slut-shame myself for my loose ways on the hour-long drive back to the city.

  Doing the actual walk of shame back to my apartment in yesterday’s dress is all I need to know that one-night stands are not my cup of tea. I’ll have to chill out on my sexual awakening. I might have to see if I can work things out with Douchebag Dillon if I plan to avoid celibacy in the future. I can handle lackluster sex with no commitment, right?

  Thinking of rekindling a thing with Dillon is depressing. He puts down my appearance and my profession, and doesn’t take me seriously at all. I gave him six months of being at his text and call, ready to drop anything for a late night booty call. One short evening with Talan was enough to know that Dillon just doesn’t do it for me.

  I can’t settle for lukewarm when I’ve had blazing hot.

  I know without a doubt that I’ll never be able to make anything with Dillon even remotely comparable to Talan. I’m moping when I get into the apartment. And a little out of breath, having dragged my kit up three flights of stairs.

  “Well hey, slutcake,” Willa says from her spot lounging on the couch. “Hope you had fun last night and didn’t just crash at a hotel after drinking too much wine at that wedding.” She rolls onto her stomach, but doesn’t stand or pry further. Sunday mornings are usually her time to be as sloth-like as she is productive the rest of the week. I doubt she will make it off that couch more than a few times today when she gets up to use the bathroom or eat.

  I smile but don’t say anything. I drag my kit into my tiny room, which is really meant to be a den, not a bedroom. I grab yoga pants and a tank top from my stuffed dresser before I head for a shower. I need to get this mess under control. Thirty minutes later, I’m feeling way better and not thinking guiltily of leaving Talan this morning. I flop onto my bed, but having had so much sleep last night, a nap isn’t in order. I braid strands of my hair, watching the pink and blonde weave together, and think of my evening with Talan. He was spectacular. I wish something with him could ever be in the cards for a girl like me.

  I still can’t get over how much faith he had in my ability to run my own business as a freelance artist. His encouragement to leave the salon and go out on my own was the latest in a long line of supporters, and exactly what I needed to bolster my courage. I should do it today, before I change my mind. I quickly get up and throw decent clothes on. I do my makeup with precision, and style my hair in my favorite beachy wave. Sometimes getting the exterior looking fierce gives you enough confidence on the inside to tackle any task. Quitting a solid job is a mountain of an obstacle. I slick on my favorite pink lipstick before leaving the apartment.

  The shimmery silver door of The Vaughn Group Salon acts as both the gateway to my own personal hell, or my salvation, if I can make it back through in one piece. Breathing in and out shallowly, I mentally coach myself through what needs to happen. You will march through that door, stand tall, and deliver this news with a decisive and calm demeanor. You will not shake, stutter, or falter from the task. You will be strong, brave, and face the dragon that holds the keys to your future.

  Nodding, I straighten my shirt and smooth my sweaty palms along my burgund
y pencil skirt—a defiant departure from The Vaughn Group’s rigid all-black dress code—before entering the salon. It’s quiet, something that only happens before opening hours, or well after closing. Normally the bright open space is loud with chatter, blow dryers, and music. I march past my usual station, a coveted corner spot near the windows, and feel a twinge of doubt. I have it good here, right? I shake my head at myself, and continue to Louisa’s office, raising my fist to knock on her door. The echo of my knuckles against the smooth wood sounds hollow and ominous.

  “Enter.” Damn. She sounds pissed already. Not a good start. I have no choice; it’s now or never.

  Grasping the polished silver door handle, I twist and push my way into the Spartan white office. I take the quick second of walking into the office to compose myself, inhale deeply, and exhale slowly.

  Louisa tucks a strand of her short, ebony hair behind her ear as she looks up from her laptop. “Bliss? What are you doing here on a Sunday? I thought you had today off. Did you make an appointment that’s not on my calendar?” She gestures toward her computer and leans back in her chair, put off by my intrusion.

  “Um, no, I just thought I would come by. I wanted to talk to you.” The desire to nervously twist my hair around my fingers is so strong I have to clasp my hands together behind me. Doing so, I nearly crush the paper I’ve been carrying, which would defeat the purpose of printing it out and attempting to keep it crisp all the way over here.

  Louisa closes her laptop with a sigh, and indicates that I take a seat across from her desk. “By all means, I can spare a moment for my top earner.” Her lips quirk up at the corners as she nearly smiles, an expression that I’ve learned one must earn, as she seldom gives it freely. She actually likes me. Or at least she likes the income I bring the salon through my work on clients and the bookings through the agency for on-location work. This won’t come easy to her.