by PE Kavanagh
“There’s no reason to go back there. Tonight was amazing, as you said. You’re a great lover. All those years of study have paid off.”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“Absolutely.”
“Keep that up and I will have to stop you by putting something in your mouth.”
“I dare you.” She opened her eyes wide, then her mouth, until he burst out laughing.
“I think you’re actually the superhero. Or at least some kind of magical creature. A woman like no other.”
“Thank you… I think. I always used to dream that I was a mermaid. You know, typical little girl stuff.” She omitted that those dreams continued well into adulthood.
“I could see that. The beguiling beauty, the sexual presence, the legs.”
“The legs??”
“Yes. Don’t you know that when mermaids trade in their tails, they always get kick-ass legs?”
“You’ve really studied up on mermaid mythology, haven’t you?”
“What did I say about making fun of me?”
She opened her mouth again.
“You are… everything.”
His comment surprised her and she looked at him, trying to read his face in the dark. The words came out before she could stop them. “It felt like I was underwater. When you were inside me and I was coming. I’ve never felt that before.”
His eyes opened in shock.
She tried to backpedal. “I mean, not like drowning, or anything. It was a good feeling, like floating and flying and warm and cool. It was a good feeling. Like a dream.”
“I felt the same thing,” he said so softly, she could barely hear him. Her eyes opened wider. “It felt like you were pulling me underwater, and I wanted to go. But the water was electrified. It woke up my whole body. The first time…”
She didn’t want to go back to that. “It’s really okay, Aidan. You don’t have to keep talking about it.”
He would not be deterred. “The first time, I was so shocked, I couldn’t handle it. I even thought that maybe I was having a stroke or something. It was so intense, Lola. It did me in… as you know. I mean, doesn’t it happen to every man you’re with?”
This was getting uncomfortable again. “No. Not that anyone has told me.”
“I can’t imagine…”
She didn’t want to talk about past lovers. “What made you change your mind, Aidan?”
It took him a moment to shift his train of thought and understand what she was asking. “About sleeping together?”
He moved her hair from the side of her face and stroked her cheek. She nodded.
“I realized I was falling in love with you.”
Lola's first sights upon waking were a sky full of light and that beautiful man. His eyes were already open and he turned them slowly toward her.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Yes. Yes it is.”
He kissed her before she could say anymore, then continued rolling both of their bodies until he was on top of her. A press of his knees opened her legs, and a slide of his hand under her back brought her to him.
“Aidan…”
“I have a very special way of saying good morning.” She could think of nothing better than having him inside her again. Then she remembered the daylight.
“I’m going to be late for work.”
“Yes. Yes you are.”
* * *
He made the bed while she was in the shower and then handed her a thermos of fresh coffee.
“You’ve been busy.”
“Trying to be a good guest so I’ll be invited back.”
“I could’ve stopped for coffee on the way.”
“No time for that. And besides, your kitchen is surprisingly well organized. It was easy to find everything.”
“Surprisingly?”
“We can talk about that later. Now, it’s time to go.” He drew his hand across her stomach as he walked toward the door, and a memory jolted her.
He was moving in and out of her rhythmically, powerfully, as she tracked his controlled breath. His hand pressed her thigh down toward her belly, his small shifts in position to escalate her pleasure. He’d been a man on a mission, with ultimate control and an uncanny sense of her.
It had all happened so quickly. She couldn’t remember a man ever bringing her to orgasm that quickly. Or that many times. Where did he learn what he knew?
“I’m glad to re-enact whatever’s going through your head, darling.” Aidan held the door as she stood, thermos in hand, in the middle of her living room.
“Sorry.” She squeezed her eyes against the embarrassment. Like a dreamy schoolgirl.
He took the thermos from her and then took her hand as they walked. The November air provided the perfect amount of chill to quell the rising heat in her body.
He stopped to look at her while they waited at a red light. “Tell me what you were thinking about.”
“Last night. And this morning.” It was best to continue looking straight ahead as they walked along the busy, crowded street. “It was… you were… amazing.”
“For me, too. You are like a fruit that keeps getting sweeter with each bite. Your body is… what did you call it… fire.”
“We’re here.” They had arrived in front of her building. Although she had no interest in stepping away from him, she realized it was time to go in.
“Have a great day. I’m sorry you won’t have quite as much free time as me to savor and remember our night… and morning.”
“Maybe you could do something more productive, then?”
“That’s actually a brilliant idea. Thank you Lola.” He kissed her for only a tiny bit longer than is acceptable on a Monday morning in midtown Manhattan.
“Bye.”
It was clear her body was with her. She felt her thighs on the four flight of stairs, the strap of her heavy bag, the grumble of hunger in her belly. But her mind was elsewhere. Was she imagining the curious looks as she passed the receptionist, the design team cubicles, and the salespeople, on the way to her office? No matter. She went through the motions of being at work, but was only ever in that bed with Aidan, reliving every kiss, stroke and moan.
She thought of Maddie, and her reaction to hearing the dry spell was over. Lola would have to go over there one night soon. She’d text her after her next meeting.
It was well into the morning, floating around a lovely daydream, when she remembered the last thing he had said to her the night before. Had she imagined him saying he loved her?
A flurry of activity near the front desk pulled her attention from the question that caught her breath. Lola didn’t want to get involved in the office drama, much preferring musing on her new lover.
Jim, one of the senior writers, came to her office. “Hey, Lola, there’s something at the front for you.”
“Okay,” she said, only half looking at him. “Can someone bring it?”
“I don’t think so. It’s huge.”
Lola whipped her head up. Feeling slightly put out about this interruption, she strode to the front lobby.
Surrounded by a handful of people was the largest bouquet of flowers she had ever seen. No way. He bought out an entire florist. Then she noticed. It was filled with lilies. Dozens and dozens of lilies. He had remembered, even from that passing moment at the farmer’s market.
It took a small group to figure out the logistics of moving the flowers, which ended up taking over the conference room. They were even too big for her office.
Lola unclipped the the small envelope from one of the stems and brought it back to her desk, turning it over in her fingers, even smelling it before opening it. She imagined what he would say, and took a big breath before sliding the small card out of the cream envelope. His messy handwriting made her smile.
My darling Lola,
* * *
I hope these brighten your morning even a tiny fraction of how much you’ve brightened mine.
* * *
I’m wearing your breath, your skin, and your mouth on me. And your heart next to mine.
* * *
Love, A
* * *
Like a wish come true
She found her way to my heart
How did I not know?
* * *
She looked up and scanned across the office, certain everyone could hear the pounding of her heart. But everyone was busy whispering, and sneaking into the conference room to get a look at the flowers.
Holy shit. This is real.
Her hands shook as she picked up her phone. She needed to say thank you, but all that came to her was, I love you, Aidan. Instead, she wrote:
Thank you for the flowers. I’m speechless. So beautiful. And thoughtful. And over the top.
He responded immediately.
AIDAN: My pleasure. It’s big, Lola. You and me.
What could she answer? While her fingers hovered over the keys, he sent another text.
AIDAN: Come by after work. For dinner and stargazing. And maybe some other things.
LOLA: I’d love to.
It was the closest she could get to what she really wanted to write.
10
Enchiladas and Apologies
THE DAY WAS consumed by the drama of the flowers. Lola presumed that most of the staff had thought she was asexual, or celibate, or didn't think about her sex life at all. Now, it was on everyone's lips. What had she done to earn flowers the size of a room, they must have wondered. She couldn’t wait to get the chance to do it again.
Although impatient to get to his house, she walked slowly, gauging every step. Now that they had entered another stage of their relationship, what would be different? She tried to predict what they would talk about. Or maybe they wouldn’t talk at all. Maybe they would go straight to bed, and stay there until morning. She imagined him folding her over the enormous couch and taking her from behind. Clearing the dining table and laying her on it. Ravishing him while sprawled on the rug.
She was breathing heavily when she arrived at his building, and not because of the cold or the walk. She tried to cool down in the elevator. It wasn’t a long enough ride.
When she stepped out of the elevator, and around the glass wall, he was standing shirtless, with a head of wet hair that sent droplets down his sculpted chest. The sight of him, like that, startled her, which instantly embarrassed her.
He reached his hand out to pull her to him, and then wrapped his arms around her waist. His body was warm. He kissed her, promptly parting her lips, and exploring her mouth with his tongue.
She pulled away, only because she needed to take a breath. “Hello.”
“Hi. Sorry about my attire. I just got out of the shower.”
Her eyes followed the drops as they stopped at the top edge of his faded jeans. “I see that.” The sight of his bare torso, like carved caramel, inspired a craving to take a huge lick of him. She bit her tongue instead.
“I haven’t even let you come in and take off your coat. A little over eager, I admit.”
Same. She slipped off her coat to reveal a brick-colored pencil skirt, an ivory silk camisole and earth brown jacket. Her peep-toe chocolate brown pumps completed the ensemble. From the look in his eyes, he appreciated her outfit.
“How did it go today?”
“Crazy. No work was done. It was only about the flowers. The whole day.”
“Good.”
“Good? I have a magazine to run. And a reputation that is now only about my sex life.”
“Good.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Why would you assume that anybody’s thinking about your sex life anyway? Why wouldn’t they assume that some guy is crazy about you, and that’s it?”
“Because that’s never it.”
He tilted his head. “I don’t know. I AM crazy about you. The flowers weren’t because we slept together. The flowers were because of how I feel about you.”
His breath quickened, as evidenced by the movement of his chest.
She touched her fingers to her lips, holding back the words she desperately wanted to say. “Thank you again, Aidan. They were spectacular.”
She put her arms around him and kissed his neck, catching a drop of water from his hair and drinking in the smell of shampoo and soap. She kissed along his collarbone and over the mound of his shoulder muscle. Her hands slid down his muscular arms and folded themselves into his hands while she melted into him.
A loud buzzer startled them both. They walked over to the kitchen and he pressed a button on the stove to make it stop. He extracted a large rectangular pan from the oven, with a layer of cheese bubbling on top.
“Wow, that smells amazing.”
“Enchiladas. I made enchiladas.”
“Who are you?”
“Don’t you like enchiladas?” He wrinkled the spot between his eyebrows.
“I love enchiladas. But that’s quite some range - from green curry to enchiladas.”
“You misunderstand. That’s bachelor food, my dear. Straight up. So, it’s ready, but will keep warm for a while. Are you hungry?”
“Getting there. No rush, though.” More like hungry for something else…
“I’d like to mash up some avocados.”
“I can do that. Let me help.”
“I’d rather you just stand there so I can look at you.”
“You can stand there and look at me while I mash avocados.”
“Deal.” He looked down at his chest, and caught a droplet heading toward his navel.
“Do you mind if I don’t put on a shirt?”
“Are you kidding?”
“I’ve been overheating lately. Some woman has set me on fire.”
“You brought the fire, mister.”
“Did I?”
“Absolutely.” Lola slid her finger across a series of drops, smearing them into his skin.
She turned to find the avocados on the counter and gave them each a squeeze to test their readiness. His body was the consistency of an almost ripe avocado, and much more delicious. Using the knife on the bamboo cutting board, she cut a few of them open, then scooped out the bright green flesh. She turned to open the refrigerator in search of her favorite guacamole ingredients: tomatoes, onions, chili pepper, cilantro…
“I don’t know. I am not nearly as sexy when I mash avocados. And definitely not bending over in the fridge. I feel like this is my own private kitchen porn.”
She cradled the vegetables in her arms, stood up and rolled her eyes at him.
Catching an errant chili rolling off the edge of the counter, he offered, "How about if I set the table?”
“Good idea. Glad to see you’ll be making yourself useful.”
His hand brushed her bottom, sending a bolt of desire down her legs. “I try my best." He picked up a tablet and starting tapping and swiping. All of a sudden the house was filled with music, subtle drums and a Latin beat. Then he reached up into the cabinet behind her, and pulled out a short stack of plates.
“The music is nice,” she said swaying slightly while chopping tomatoes.
“We need to get you out on a dance floor again. It’s been too long.”
“It’s been a week.”
“Three, actually.”
He put the plates down, stepped behind her and put his arms around her waist. They moved their hips together to the beat.
“Remember this?” He ground into her and she responded by pressing her bottom into him.
“I’m not exactly sure what you’re referring to.” He brought his mouth to her neck, which encouraged her to release the knife, halfway through the tomato on the cutting board. Her focus moved elsewhere. “You’re distracting me, Aidan.”
“Now you know how I feel whenever I’m around you.” He moved his right hand up to cup her breast and his left hand down between her legs. They exhaled audibly together.
She placed her hands on top of his and pressed them deeper into her flesh. She began to lose her
balance and dropped her hands to the counter. The music pulsed through her body.
Aidan brought his hands to the side of her straight skirt and slid the fabric up her legs. She gasped as she felt the fabric of his jeans on her bottom. He hooked the tips of his fingers on the top of her thong and pulled it down the length of her legs. He kneeled down and took a hard bite of her bottom.
“Aaaah!” she yelped. He lifted each of her feet up and out of the delicate ivory lace of her underwear, then stood up again, this time his hand moving to the now bare space between her legs. He traced a line from front to back, ending between her cheeks. She was more than ready and stepped her feet apart for him.
“Stay there,” he said, before walking away. She did, blinking at the tomato chunks on the cutting board in front of her. He returned and put the condom down next to her left hand. She stared at the black wrapper while sensing him behind her, undoing the button and then the zipper of his pants.
With a quick move of his hand, the condom disappeared from sight, and then she felt him, rubbing against her bare buttocks. He bent his knees, she bent forward and he found her. There was a brief sense of coolness, and then the heat of him inside her. His hands held her hips in place as he thrust. She closed her eyes and let herself get lost in all the other senses. The cool marble of the counter, the coarse hair of his thighs against hers, his breath and mouth covering her neck and shoulders. The sound of drums mingled with the sound of his moans. And hers.
Lola’s knees buckled and he firmed his grasp, wrapping one arm all the way around her and using the other to tip her hips more and more forward.
“Talk to me, Lola.”
“I can’t.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“Harder.”
He pressed deeper into her, making each stroke firmer.
“Yes…”
They continued in that rhythm, while Lola’s groans grew deeper and more guttural.
“Yes, my love,” he encouraged her. She began to fall forward, and he pulled her back, away from the food, without changing his pace. A tremble grew around her hips, becoming a long slow pulse that began in her body and moved onto his. He let himself go, finally relinquishing the control that had kept him going, only after her tremor had quieted. She reached around to find his bottom and kept him pressed inside her as she heard him and felt him release.
