by Amber Burns
“Room for one more?”
Astra jumps and whirls at my voice. I pull the curtains after, revealing her wide eyes, coloring cheeks, open mouth and the rest of her. Her chest is raising and falling at a rapid rate and her thighs squeeze together.
She’s checking me out too. Her gaze takes me in the buff before she asks softly, “How did practice go?”
“Great. How did the napping go?”
“It was nice.” She moves to make room, her back face the steady warm stream from the shower head. I wrap my hands around her waist and pull her against my front, her slippery belly yielding to my hard cock. “Happy Valentine’s, by the way.”
“You heard that, did you?” I kiss her, bearing down and nipping her lower lip on our parting.
Gotta celebrate V-Day in style.
I remember Dan’s words and smile, pecking her lips and sliding my fingers around the small of her back. “Let’s celebrate the rest of the day, just you and me.”
Her eyes are wider, but that’s interest rather than weariness in her depths of brightest brown. “Oh? What did you have planned?”
“No plans,” I shake my head once, kissing her gently. “We go with the flow. Maybe enjoy candle-lit dinner and a movie. Or we do this,” and I lock our lips, sweeping my tongue through, and leaving us both breathless before I continue, “Whatever you want, Astra.”
“I want you,” she kisses me this time, and I’m holding onto her like the bathtub, the second floor of her house, the Earth itself is going to open up and fall away, swallow me if I don’t keep her there against me, our bodies, hearts and minds in synch.
She’s like the music, I realize. All at once I let go of everything, of Lola’s snooping, and Tzatza’s melodrama and the stupid marriage thing with Custodio and her secreted guest room.
It’s all about Astra. Me and Astra and this thing that’s sort of like love but isn’t.
I think.
I hope.
Shit.
Chapter 8
I’m starting to realize my guitar in my arms isn’t any different than Astra in that I can play both really well.
It’s the guitar I play to wake her up. Astra mumbles something from the bed; she’s stirring at my soft plucking, and sitting up and blinking rapidly when I croon a child’s lullaby.
“I always liked that song,” she smiles sleepily. She rubs a hand over her eyes and pushed her wild red hair out of her face. “My parents used to sing it to my sister…” she trails off and sighs, the one note packing more burden than it should.
I don’t stop singing to answer her, or to question her, but I compensate by keeping her in my sight. She fluffs her pillow, and mine, at her back and settles in for a show. I try not to disappoint.
It feels good to wake up with the weight of the guitar…
Almost as great as it felt waking up, my arms wrapped around Astra, her butt warming my balls, and one of her breasts filling my palm. A man could get used to this feeling. Then, before he knows it, dangerous thoughts like setting up roots and making a home with red-haired, dark-eyed babies comes to mind.
“I think I like it better when you sing.” Even from the armchair in the corner of her room I see her eyes dancing, naturally pink lips curving up the longer I stare, speechless.
Giving my head a shake, I mutter, “Repeat that?”
Astra’s tinkling laugh is a whole different kind of music. I slipped back into my jeans when I woke earlier, but I wince when the head of my erection rubs the zipper.
I stand and swinging the strap through my head, I set the guitar lounging in the chair where I sat. Losing the pants on the way to her side of the bed where Astra is shifting restlessly, her gaze fastened on my semi-flaccid prick.
Her eyes are darker, she’s sunk her teeth into her bottom lip and the sheet lying over her breasts have fallen down to reveal her red-pink nipples.
Bearing down on her for that look alone, I mesh our mouths, swallowing her moan and getting a fistful of her hair to lock her to my lips. My tongue does its cavity search, wrestling her slippery, hot appendage, and sliding away from me to nip and tug her lower lip.
“I want you. Obviously.” I kiss a fast, hard trail down her neck, lowering onto my knees.
On my wavelength, Astra sidles onto her side, facing her back to me. I lift her up and slide under her, giving her purchase on my lap. Nipping the shell of her ear, I blow hotly and whisper, “I need you, babe.”
“Good,” Astra groans, her hand falling over mine as I bring her back against me. “I need you, too.” Her hand reaches back, cupping my face as she tilts her head and reveals an expanse of her throat.
I kiss and suck the taut muscles under creamy flesh. Up front my hands are kneading her tits, fingers flicking over her erect nipples, I love the control I have over her.
It’s fucking fantastic to know the attraction and blinding want, need is mutual.
I’m starting to lose focus though. My dick is wedged under Astra’s ass cheeks, but it’s flooding with blood, the shaft rising to nestle over her secreted and very moist folds.
At this rate I could slip up into her, we’re both ready.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” my warning unnecessary as I reluctantly switch my hands from working her breasts to settling over her hips and pushing her against me.
Reining in the hiss, I press my lips to her shoulder blade and wait to ride out the initial welcome of her pussy around my cock.
I plunge up and forward, splaying my hands about her middle to control her, maximize our pleasure. Astra’s moaning and whining is navigating us to that zenith of pleasure.
“Come with me, babe,” I grunt, fingers slipping over her hips from our sweating bodies. “Now, Astra.”
Three thrusts later she wails her release, taking me with her not too long after. Shooting through the sky with delirious pleasure and then falling down into the yawning depth of reality and sex-induced slumber.
When I wake from the knockout, I’m spooning Astra, my cock still embedded in her, my girl’s even breathing letting me know she hasn’t resurfaced yet.
I sit up, careful to jostle her with my arm under her body, our sexes connected. Her face is relaxed, lips parted for her soft breaths and brown-red lashes fanning over her flushed cheeks.
She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen; the prime reason I’m actually enjoying my stay here in OC. I can’t help but touch my lips to her cheek. It’s an odd angle, but I’m able to do it without waking her.
It’s another ten minutes before she stirs from la petite mort.
Yawning, she tilts her head up and smiles. “Did I fall asleep? I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, we both did,” I roll my hips and thrust gently, loving Astra’s sleepy eyes widen.
“Are you?” she breathes, letting my nod finish her line of questioning. Her eyes roll back in her head, lids fluttering close when I push forward again, my hips rocking both of us to the side.
This build-up to a climax is slower. In the end I pull out and roll her over onto her back, my dick separating her pink lips and riding us both through several more straining pushes to orgasm.
Or just me.
Astra’s panting and bright eyes tell me she hasn’t come. Damn.
Not to be dejected, I apply my fingers and the heel of my palm to her clit. I rub her off, still thrusting to prolong her eventual release.
I drop beside her and wait to speak until my breath evens. Astra is thinking the same, and she beats me to it. Her growling stomach does anyways.
“We should probably go eat,” I grin over at her.
We shower together, with minimal distraction, and Astra can thank her hunger for that or else I wouldn’t miss the opportunity for a Round Two in her shower.
“How does Chinese sound?” she looks up from four pamphlets of restaurants in town that have delivered to her before.
I give her thumbs up and she pulls out her cell to dial the restaurant of choice.
Astra does t
he ordering while I point out the combos on the pamphlet. Hanging up, we wait around the kitchen over our coffee. I’m finishing Astra’s foot rub when the doorbell rings twenty minutes later.
I jump up readily, answering the door and facing the young woman holding out two bags of our order. I give her the bills plus a healthy tip and nearly run into Astra hovering behind me.
“That was a lot of money,” she notes once I close the door, her tone unrevealing. Was she upset that I over-tipped? Or pissed that I paid for lunch in her home?
I shrug. “She looked to be in college or finishing up high school. I remember when I was about her age looking to scrounge up any change and how tips could make that much of a difference.”
Astra and her swaying ass are leading me and the takeout upstairs to her room.
“That’s sweet of you.” I study her expression as she quickly makes the bed for our makeshift indoor picnic. In the noon light washing through the room, brightening the beige walls and the white of her bedsheets, I don’t see a double meaning in her face.
Loosening the tension riding my shoulders, I smile. “Yeah. That’s me. Nice guy.”
“I like nice guys,” she meets me, easing one of the bags from my grasp. “Thank you for paying for lunch.”
Since one of my hands free, I haul her back by her waist and swoop a kiss over her lips. Astra softens in my grasp from the shock. She prolongs the kiss and I’m the one breaking us up.
“Now that’s a thank-you.”
She blushes at my comment, smacking my shoulder lightly and spiriting away as soon as I drop my hold about her middle.
Placing the takeout bag on the bed, I draw off my tee shirt. “I can’t eat until I get comfortable.” I answer Astra’s questioning look, though she isn’t complaining.
And she isn’t complaining when I draw her between my legs, our food spread out around us.
I don’t realize how hungry I am, too, until Astra opens the first box and the sour-and-sweet sauce wafts up to tickle my nose and punch my gut. We’re polishing through lunch, sharing the combos we ordered, and even feeding each other when a knock separates me from Astra’s end of her chopsticks.
Chewing through the spring roll, I swallow hard and ask, “Were you expecting company?”
Astra shakes her head, drinking her sparkling water and then saying, “No. Holly did call earlier. It might be her.”
None of the apprehension I thought she might feel exudes in her expression.
The second and third ring come back-to-back, and our visitors’ voices carry up to the second floor.
“I’ll go investigate then. Unless you want to?”
“No, that’s fine. I’d appreciate it, I mean,” she smiles then, her eyes narrowing with mirth. “But maybe you should wear a shirt.”
“One more bite and I will,” I say, opening my mouth for effect. She laughs but does as I ask. I grip her hand over the chopsticks and lead the last spring roll to my mouth. “Mhm, delicious.” I drag a tongue over my lips to catch any missed sauce.
“Whoever it is, they’re loud,” I say on my way out of Astra’s bedroom down the hall and stairs to the front door. The peephole reveals Holly, Dan and Jesse.
This is a surprise – jury’s out on whether it’s pleasant or not.
I head upstairs without answering to get the mistress of the house’s opinion.
“Let’s clean up first,” Astra springs to action. She’s got one of the takeout plastic bags open for our emptied cartons.
I stop her. “You should head downstairs. But change first,” I drag my eyes over her bathrobe and the skimpy tank and shorts it covers. “I thought I’d return the advice.”
With a quick smile she heads to her closet and I’m only slightly distracted by her changing. Once she’s got her ass covered by her flowing, floor-length skirt, she helps by grabbing the plastic bag of garbage and dips out to answer her guests...our guests – I’m not sure what’s going on yet.
Dan’s boisterous greeting carries up to the room. I get a sense he’s throwing himself all over Astra, but I have to control the temptation to go downstairs without cleaning up.
After I sweep the bed of evidence from our lunch and sex, I grab my leather jacket and pause by the bathroom and check that I’m decent. No odd hair standing on end from Astra’s fingers running through, or a hickey anywhere to scream we’d done the deed. The nasty.
God. What am I, seventeen again?
How am I any different than Liam and his futile crush on Lola?
No, I am different. Once Astra’s had enough of me and I’ve had my share, too, we’ll part on go our separate ways.
Whenever that happens.
They should know I’m here. My car is on her curb. That doesn’t exactly spell I slept with her.
Which is why I go with, “I dropped by,” when Dan opens with his interrogation.
Cool as a cucumber, Jesse fist bumps me and Holly shakes my hand after an awkward smile.
“So? Let’s drink,” Dan does the leading to Astra’s den. Holly’s lifting the bottle of champagne she’s been holding at Dan’s whooping. As usual his enthusiasm is oddly contagious.
Despite the interruption of the lunch that would surely lead to burning off the calories with sex, I’m grinning at Dan’s hamming it up when Holly passes the champagne over to him.
Astra’s sparse, lonely den is brightened up at the snap of a finger.
“Weren’t you in the city?” I ask Jesse, Dan’s busy getting the cork off the bottle and making shambles out of the process.
Astra dips out to get glasses.
“We were. We just called it in early when Holly messaged to thank us. Apparently Tzatza has common sense.”
“She gave her the job?” I’m smiling, watching Dan giving up and passing the champagne over. It’s Holly to the rescue.
“Yeah,” Jesse’s smile is in his voice. “We drove out early and grabbed the celebratory drink on the way out.” The cork sails on cheers and Astra returns on time with the glasses – four to be precise.
“Sorry about the tall glasses. I don’t really have flutes or coupes,” she says.
“No worries. We’re going to enjoy this anyway.” Dan does the pouring, making a mess of it over the coffee table. When he comes up short a glass, he looks up at Astra.
“I’m not going to have any.” She explains, dropping her gaze like she’s confessed we had sex, over and over.
Dan shakes his head. “You have to.” He looks to Holly for support who shrugs as if she’s not willing to intervene.
“I’m going to grab some snacks,” she backs into the kitchen...scurrying is more like it.
I follow her to the kitchen, breaking with Jesse who may have given me a knowing look.
“Sorry about Dan,” I start, careful to tread with my own curiosity. A week ago she’d passed on the wine during dinner with Tzatza too, but she’d been sick then. Sick people shouldn't be drinking.
What’s her excuse now?
“It’s fine.” Astra draws out a bottle of sparkling water and a glass and presumably pours herself a cup.
I beat her to the fridge and pull it open for her. She murmurs her gratitude, grabbing a bag of red grapes. From the snack cupboard above the counter she hauls down a box of crackers.
“I think he’s just shocked someone in this day and age might not equate celebration with drinking.”
She draws up her shoulders, letting me know she’s listening with a hum. Clearly this conversation isn’t one she wants to be having.
I feel my own shoulders draw up with annoyance and...hurt. I try not to delve in that last emotion.
Fine.
If she doesn’t want to talk, there’s other ways I can find to be around her. I reach for the crackers while she divvies up the grapes and washes them.
We work beside each other quietly, the silence loaded with our unspoken words. Our fingers brush a couple times over the snack plate. Each time I succumb to a zing from the contact. My nerve ending
s are sharpened, acute where Astra’s concerned.
A fleet of questions zips through my head: Does she feel it too? Why her? And what is she doing to me?
“About time,” Dan raises his glass. “We’ve been waiting on this toast forever. Were you two having sex in there?”
Holly splutters and Jesse heaves a sigh at Dan’s tactlessness.
Astra, strong woman she is, ignores the comment and sets down the plate. I pass her the glass of sparkling water and she smiles apologetically at the room.
