by Amber Burns
Our fingers brush as she hands over the cold can. I blink past the tingling rush from the brief contact. The can’s loud pop and crackling open breaks the staring we’re locked in.
Get a grip on yourself, McBride, or you’ll propose to her the next time.
“About that lasagna,” I take my beer to the table, pretending to fascinated by the pasta. Astra is moving about quietly, settling two plates, forks and knives onto the small, circular table.
We eat the table, hands off each other, and finally talking when both of our forks have scrapped the plates clean.
“So how do you want to go about our game plan? For dinner?” I tag on the end when Astra looks to me for clarification. It’s the first time she has since I messed up by declaring love I’m not willing to feel for her, or any woman.
If you had to love anyone, it’d be her though.
It’s true. Studying her side profile as she rinses our dinner dishes of soap suds, I’m lanced in the gut at the remainder this beautiful, smart, generous woman is all mine. And I’ve given her nothing of worth so far when she’s opened her home and her life to me.
Then there’s this business with Custodio and his business friend/partner. Astra shouldn’t want to help an ass like me.
I loosen my grip on my beer. I don’t want to crush the can and divert unwanted attention to the turmoil rocking me inside.
She’s grabbing an apple from her fruit bowl on the table, glancing back to ask, “Want to sit in the den?”
I let her lead us. It’s a good sign she isn’t kicking me out. I’m not sure what I’m going to say, but I do know I don’t want to leave her.
“How did practice go?” she makes light talk for us both. We’re sitting on the settee, within hand’s reach of each other, but she’s in her corner and I’m resolutely, if not painfully, keeping on my side.
“Swell. We’ve compiled a song list for the party, got it approved by TzaTza and Lola, and practiced as much as we could.” Which wasn’t nearly as much as usual since I spent more time here, fucking Astra like a sex-starved maniac, but I leave that out.
“All the students are excited for the party. Lolinda, um, Lola is quite popular. That and Tense Finger seems to have lured quite a following for the birthday.”
“I'm not sure if that should make me nervous or not.” My lips twist up and I take a final sip of the beer, clearing my throat to add, “What is scarier: An empty room or one filled by loud, party-hungering teens?”
“Depends on what type of person you are, but the way I see it fear is fear no matter the shape or size or situation,” Astra is ready with her reply. It’s such a counsellor thing to say. But from her mouth it’s comforting.
“Lola still seeing you.” I raise a brow at her slow nod and worrying over her lip. “What did she say?”
“It’s nothing.” Astra says, looking ready to let it go. Too bad I’m not.
“What does she say to you, Astra?” I ask. She flicks her gaze down to my hand resting over her smooth calf. Her baggy knee-length camis don’t exactly show much of her stunning legs, but I’m glad for the bit of skin I can touch...caress.
Astra blinks from my stroking to answering me, and I cover the smile at the disorientation I’m causing. At least she’s as caught up in me as I am her.
“Yes and no.” She says.
“I’m listening,” I sit up, tension and intrigue colliding together.
“Lolinda mentioned...us,” Astra winces. “I was told to leave you alone in no uncertain terms, and then she threatened me with a trade.”
“Go on.” My urging comes when she grows quiet and picks at the drooping sleeves of her Columbia alma mater sweatshirt.
“She’d keep us a secret so as long as she doesn’t have to come meet me anymore, but that the longer I wait to stop seeing you, the likelihood her parents would catch whiff of her prematurely finished sessions.”
I crash the beer can now and Astra jolts. I smile, but it feels tight...and slimy. It takes two to tango, yet Astra’s suffering all the repercussions of our relationship.
I apologize first, gathering a fortifying breath and continue, “I’ll talk to Lola.”
“No, don’t.” Astra leans forward and touches my arm with the tips of her fingers. Even over my jacket and the long-sleeved shirt under, it’s as if she’s brushing my arm hairs and electrifying my skin cells.
In my boxers I’m growing stiff and achy.
“It’s fine, Ryker. I can handle it.” Her smile is wobbly though, not at all reassuring given her strong words.
God.
How did I end up with her? Why is she so selfless and kind to the worst of the worst – and no, I'm not really thinking about Lola and her teenage antics. I’m thinking about the asshole sitting beside her, the same asshole who should be comforting her and instead letting himself be comforted.
Asshole, do something.
It’s the prompt I need.
Circling the wrist of the hand touching my arm, I tug her forward and meet her the rest of the way. I kiss her like I’m taking the last breath. Bringing my hand to rest at the back of her head, I hold her to me as my tongue flits past her entrance and tangles with hers in a slippery duel.
Opening up to each other, I suck on her sweet breath before sinking back into all that is Astra.
I’m not exactly clear on how she ends up in my lap, or who initiates the move from the den to her room, but I’m carrying her bridal style and trying to focus on not missing a step to the top floor.
Then we’re all over each other and I stumble blindly, grasping at the door handle and swinging open into...her guest room. Our mouths detach and Astra looks around like she’s taking it in for the first time too.
“Wrong room,” I cough, readying an apology that never surfaces because she beats me to it. Feeling her restlessness I set her down on her feet and run a hand through my hair, messing it more with guilt.
“I’m sorry,” she repeats as if I didn’t catch it the first time. “I shouldn’t have lied about this space being for storage.”
I sweep a slow glance across the room. “Looks like storage to me. The prettiest storage I’ve seen, but storage still.”
Astra blinks up at me and then she nears and clinging to the sleeves of my jacket, she tiptoes into our lip lock. “Thank you,” she murmurs right off my mouth, her sweet, warm breath simmering my blood. Down onto the balls of her heels she gazes at the room and tells me about her little sister.
“She’s been working hard on the addiction for two years and has beaten it, I’m assured. She’ll be staying with me when she’s graduated her program at the end of this month. I wanted to make this place feel like home when she got here. It’s a close replica of her old room at our mom and dad’s.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” I find her hand and give her what I hope is a comforting squeeze.
It draws her out of the solemn reverie and I get a small, but heart-clenching smile from her for my actions.
“I just want her to feel at home. Mom and Dad haven’t exactly supported any of this, and though I can’t blame them for losing hope, sometimes I do.” She sighs, the despair palpable in the long drawn breath.
Hauling her into my arms, I secure my free arm around her waist and meanwhile keep our hands joined. I press a lengthy kiss over her crown and keeping my lips there, tilt my head for her to hear my two cents. “Someone once told me that it’s ok to be wrong, as long as you work towards being right. One of the best pieces of advice I got.”
Astra draws back and our faces are close and closing…
Her lips yield to my hard kiss, her mewl spearing to my cock as much as it wrenches my heart. Hauling her up in my arms again, I hold her legs about my middle and keeping an eye on my footing, I carry my girl to her room to finish what we started.
I place her at the end of the bed and shrug off coat and lose my shirt, jeans and boxers in the span it takes her to work off her shirt and PJ bottoms.
Stripping her of the
matching emerald green underwear is the best part. I begin with her bra, and unclipping the front clasp, thrill at the sight of her naked tits bouncing out of their lacy restraint.
“Stop teasing me,” Astra’s hoarse chiding spreads a grin over my face. I do as the lady asks though and with one last suck of each rosy nipple I’m crawling down to pull her under through each of her legs.
I drag my tongue up her hairless mound, feeling her hand creep over my head and the telltale tugging matching my languid strokes. She massages my scalp when I vacuum her clit into my mouth.
“Ryker, please, stop teasing me.”
I chuckle with my mouth still latched to her and she breathes harder as I’m figuring she feels the vibration of my mirth as vocal stimulation. Popping my mouth off when she curses softly, not sure if I heard right.
When I ask and she’s ducking to avoid my knowing gaze, I laugh belly-deep. “Let’s see if I can make you swear more.” I nip her inner thigh and move back over her sopping core.
Wiggling my tongue deep inside her clenched bundle of nerves, I grip onto her thighs to keep her natural inclination to thrust up to a minimum. I alternate between spearing my tongue in and out of her pink folds and sucking the juices that are rimming my mouth and squelching onto my jaw.
My hand covering a good parts of her pussy, I pinch and rub and gently pull on the hard bud of her clit speeding her to climax she’s threatening to rip out my hair from its roots and begging for.
I can’t thing of anything I want or need more than that instant.
A mouthful of Astra is what I want… That and to be buried balls deep inside her, filling her in a way no other man can – or will ever again.
I ignore the negative thought screaming, have you lost your ever-loving mind, dumbass? It’s easy enough to drown it out with Astra’s panting, whimpering and then wailing release.
My tongue strokes through her shuddering conclusion, prolonging the orgasm and getting a long kiss and a hand-job for her. I have to balance on my elbows after I come up from her cunt and draw my mouth from hers to throw my head back at her lazy rubbing of my corona.
I look down in the small space of our bodies at her hand. She has her palm on the purple-y bulging head of my dick, and I catch sight of my pre-cum glistening over her hand.
“Astra,” I’m begging now. “I need you. Now.”
She doesn’t need to be provoked out of the foreplay.
Angling between her legs, I trap her in with my thighs and thrust forward. This whole on-top position doesn’t do it for me, so I roll us over, surprising Astra and then pushing up against her to watch her eyes roll to the back of her head.
Her sweaty palms breeze over my chest, nails pressing in just a fraction to clash pain and pleasure. “Ryker, ahh, mo-ore!”
“One order of more coming up.” I use her hips to brace the last few thrusts and then the world falls away and we’re falling with it, one after another, into each other’s arms.
Astra recovers first, cuddling against me and tilting her head up to brush her lips under my jaw. I have an arm over my eyes from the overload of passion.
“We can’t keep our hands off each other.”
I lift my arm and smile at her observation, adding, “Just our hands?” and chuckling at her reddening cheeks, nothing to do with our love-making.
Now it’s love-making? You, man, are fucked.
“Uhh,” my incoherent groan at her lavishing kisses over my chest earns a laugh from my girl. Astra’s tongue shifts me into go-mode. I grab her and roll her onto her back, sitting over her, my flaccid cock over her warm, quivering belly.
She’s trying not to laugh.
“You little tease,” my pretend glower frees her pealing giggles. I magnify that beautiful sound by wriggling my fingers over her side until she implores me to stop, catching her breath and reaching down to thumb the slit of my cock.
I hold her still by the wrist. “It’s too much, Astra. Let me rest, you ravenous woman.”
Falling beside her then, I keep her hand busy by lacing our fingers together.
Fingers entwined, I kiss each of her short, clean, polish-free nails. Astra shivers through each soft touch, watching me through lidded eyes as I turn our connected hands around and touch the wrist bone and work my way to the soft inside of her elbow.
Poking out my tongue, I trace an ‘A’ over her skin.
“Ticklish,” she says, giggling when I trace another ‘A’ and look to her.
“Did you get that?” at her head shake I do it for a third time.
“It’s an A, I think.”
I trace a plus-sign and she guesses that correctly too. An ‘R’ takes a few more times to figure out, and by this time she’s laugh-crying from my ministrations.
Tracing the last pattern, I meet her eyes and she’s breathlessly smiling wide, eyes sparkling and chest heaving. “A heart. A plus R and a heart,” she says.
And, really, how is that different from telling her you love her.
“Beautiful and brainy, love it.” I stretch to meet her lips and then we glide into a half-sleep. When we rouse, it’s closer to midnight and after I rummage through her fridge and return with a snack for the both of us, we talk into the earliest morning.
“Do I have to wear anything particular?” she asks, our topic shifting to the dinner with Custodio and the Campos.
“Depends on who you ask as I’d prefer you wear nothing,” I waggle my brows and emphasize by squeezing her waist. She squeals and nearly upends our dip and the plate of chips.
“Ryker,” she says my name with loaded warning, but she’s grinning right back at me. “Seriously speaking, is it formal or semi-formal?”
"I’ve been to the bistro a couple times – Custodio is close with the many of the staff, and I’d say it’s as formal as formal can get minus a black-tie affair.”
She scrunches her brow and looks to her closet. “I might not have a dress to wear.”
“Nude is it then,” I get a light punch in the shoulder for the remark. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll find something. Can you leave work a little earlier tomorrow?” I know she has a dedication to her job that supersedes her actual workplace, and that keeps her to working a couple hours later than regular school time.
“Maybe.” She says.
“Make time for me and we’ll go shopping just before dinner. Plenty of time to find you the perfect outfit and meet for seven.”
She chews a couple chips thoughtfully and then asks, “I have a budget though.”
Feigning hurt, I clutch a hand over my heart. “Oh, you think because I’ve got a couple extra zeroes tacked on to my annual salary I don’t care for money.” When Astra ducks her head I realize I’ve gone to far with the joke.
Hooking my finger under her chin, I force her up to face me and my apology. “I don’t really think that you think that of me.” I shake my head and laugh nervously. “What I mean is your budget is sensible and we’ll find you something. Don’t worry.”
The kiss melts the final uncertainty tensing her limbs. She kisses me right back and I taste the chips and dip, and it never tasted better. “Not that it matters: You’ll look radiant in whatever you wear.”
She brings our lips together for a sweet, shy peck in her own way of gratitude.
Clearing our snack to her night stand, we roll back into bed, fluffing our pillows to the headboards and turning into each other.
“Thank you for helping me out.”
Astra flattens her palm over my chest and locks me into her bright gaze. “I want to, so stop thanking me. It make me feel like...like I don’t have the right to help you.”
“And thank you for coming to the birthday party.”
“I’d have to come,” she smiles, “or face Holly’s wrath for not braving TzaTza and the hordes of teens to see her. She tells me it’s coming along well.”
“I’ll have to thank Holly then.” I study our locked fingers, feeling her stare and not expecting her question.
“Why do I get the feeling you don’t want to do the party?”
“A part of me doesn’t,” I say.
“And what about the other part?” Astra asks when I don’t say it right away. She’s rubbing my chest, leaning in closer, tossing one of her legs over mine.
I try to concentrate on my words, ignoring the heat wafting from her core and my dick’s magnetized reaction to her nearness. “That part just wants to play for whoever wants to listen, in this case Lola’s teen guests and any adults her parents are inviting.”
