by L. V. Lewis
“Oh, Dylan!” I shout, squeezing my thighs together and holding his head in a death-clamp. I half expect him to smack my thighs with both hands as if he’s tapping out of an MMA match, but he doesn’t. He continues to lave my center and move his fingers in and out, grazing over that special spot until my spasming, jerking body ceases to move.
Boneless, I come down from that exquisite high slowly, my nerves becoming attuned again to my surroundings. The luxury mattress is soft as down under my back, and Dylan’s soft hair is still clutched between my fingers. He continues to taste my hot, wet flesh languidly until I become hypersensitive to his touch and nudge his head away.
While this second orgasm has taken all of my strength, I still want him to fuck me hard, and wear me completely out, because our sex sessions are never successful in my mind unless my muscles are so sore the next day I can barely move.
He must sense my urgency to have him inside me because he doesn’t waver. He immediately crawls up to cover me with his sexy body, pinning me to the bed. The broad tip of his beautifully circumcised cock pushes against my flesh, slick and engorged from the pleasure he’s already given me, causing him to slip in almost effortlessly as he sinks into me. I grasp his shoulders as my body opens around his girth taking him almost to the hilt.
“Alyssa!” He groans as I lift my hips to take him deeper. His thrusts are slow and languorous in the beginning, and I am lulled into a state of euphoria, completely lost in the moment. Everything ceases to matter except our connection, and our bodies slick with sweat, experiencing the bliss of union. I match Dylan’s stroke, rolling my hips to meet his.
My fingers dig into his back, and I cling to him with my sex as he pumps into me with steadily increasing speed. I can feel his body tensing as if preparing for release and I reach my hands between us, moaning when my fingers feel where my flesh surrounds him, and I rub my clit, desperate to catch up with his impending orgasm. My aching muscles protest as my body begins to wind up toward another climax.
Dylan mutters nonsensical pleas against my lips as he thrusts his tongue into my mouth and speeds up his thrusts. When I come, I see bursts of light almost like fireworks against eyelids squeezed shut from the intensity of the experience. Dylan isn’t far behind me. He exacts one final hard thrust while my eager, spasming sex takes him in, before he groans and stills, allowing his pulsing cock to send delayed shivers of pleasure through my beleaguered body.
Much like the first time we came together we are each spent when our near simultaneous orgasms sweep through our bodies. When we part, Dylan disappears and I am bereft, both in my dream state and when I jerk awake in the middle of the night. I’m no longer in Dallas as I was in my dream, but in my bed in my Hollywood condo.
Overwhelmed with sadness and disappointment that my connection with Dylan was just a dream, I can’t withhold the tears that fall unbidden from my eyes.
Eleven
Chicago, IL
DYLAN
“It’s amazing what proper nutrition and exercise can do for a body in six weeks,” I say to Dani as we stroll along the magnificent mile. My nutritionist, with whom my mother has been trying to play matchmaker for me, has done an excellent job getting me ready for my upcoming trips, first to LA and then to the Maldives.
“Our bodies are like machines. If we keep them well oiled, fueled and tuned up, they will stay properly maintained for years to come. Not to mention look and perform the way they are intended to.” She gets that spark in her eye that she gets when she’s using nutrition metaphors. It must be a science geek, smart girl thing.
“Thanks to you I don’t look like a fucking walking skeleton anymore,” I say. I’m not at my pre-cancer weight, but I definitely look much healthier than I did a few months ago. The weight gain has necessitated a replenishment of my wardrobe, which is the primary purpose for our visit to the city together today.
While I didn’t expect to need a chaperone to buy new clothes for myself at my age, I now understand why my mother has a closet full of varying sizes of clothing. When you drop or pick up an inordinate amount of weight in a relatively short period of time, nothing fits.
When I mentioned I needed to shop for some clothes to take on my trip, my mother suggested I ride over with Dani who just so happened to need to pick up some vitamin supplements for me there.
If I was the old Dylan, I would totally have tapped that by now, but oddly Danielle “Dani” Ayers holds no appeal for me. So, other than my gratefulness that she’s helped me to look more like my old self, I’m not looking to thank her with my body like my old self might have done.
We put my purchases in the trunk of Dani’s car and we’re off to the wholesale vitamin store to get a stash of supplements that should last me until I return from my trip and beyond. Dani shops almost as quickly as I did for my clothes. Once I’d been measured and my new sizing determined picking out what I needed hadn’t taken very long.
We’re on the highway back to Downers Grove before rush hour, and we make good time since there are no accidents, which in and of itself is a miracle this time of year.
The amiable chatting we’d done on the way to Chicago is absent on our trip back, because I’m texting Alyssa.
My days have consisted mainly of following my health regimen and thinking about Alyssa. I’ve kept in contact with her by texting and social media most evenings. Honestly, I feel like a fucking stalker, I’m trolling her pages so fucking much. Pacing my texts and infrequent phone calls has been tricky, but Alyssa hasn’t cut me off again, so that’s something.
I’m laughing at a hilarious meme Alyssa sent me, when Dani’s question captures my attention from my cellphone.
“Girlfriend?” she asks, her eyes still on the road.
“I wish,” I say. I’m usually upbeat, particularly when I’m interacting with Alyssa, but just the reminder that she isn’t my girl anymore makes me as sad as fuck.
Dani glances at me bemused. “How is that possible with your reputation with the ladies?”
“I guess I grew the fuck up when I met her, but when the cancer happened I couldn’t saddle her with such serious shit.”
“If she felt the same way about you, I’m sure the cancer would just be another thing to bring you closer together.”
“Not when you’ve just met someone. I didn’t know if I was going to live or die, and I didn’t want her to confuse pity for love.”
“In the words of Ygritte from Game of Thrones, ‘you know nothing,’ Dylan Castle, especially about women.”
“What the fuck? Who gave you the right to speak so glibly into my love life?”
Dani chuckles. “Hear me out.”
“Okay.”
“Your mother told me that you brought a girl home for the first time just before you were diagnosed. Is this the same girl?”
“Wait. Why would my mother be talking to you about my personal life?” I already know the answer before I can finish posing the question. In my mother’s quest to get me a new girlfriend she’s sharing all kinds of inappropriate things about me with a virtual stranger.
“She’s just trying to help you get back in the saddle, as it were. And she and I bonded because we’re both Wheaton College Alumnae, although she was a crusader and I’m a thunder.”
I shake my head. “I have no idea what that means.”
“College mascot.”
“So, you were in on my mother’s heavy-handed matchmaking strategy?”
“I didn’t discourage her, even though you aren’t remotely my type.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah, you and Savage were off-limits for obvious reasons when The Savages were the shit, so I developed a huge crush on Finn.”
“No kidding? I get it though, Sav was primarily with Kim and I was ...” I don’t finish that sentence because naming what I was back then won’t endear me to my hot nutritionist despite my mom’s efforts. What? She is attractive and my feelings for Alyssa haven’t made me blind.
“Poste
rs and magazine photos of Finn are still plastered on the bedroom I occupied in my parents’ home. They haven’t redecorated mine or my brother’s rooms since we left the nest.”
“Probably the only reason mine is different is because I remodeled my parent’s home when I made it big.”
“When I pay off my student loans, I just might do that for my parents. Anyway, I’m not going to capitalize on your mother’s attempts to hook us up.”
“Thanks,” I say, rather miffed that I’m not her particular brand of rock star.
Dani passes a slow traveling vehicle, and glances at me again. “Tell me about this girl you’ve been pining over.”
“I haven’t been pining,” I object, then realize that perhaps I have. Once Alyssa made it clear that all she could offer me was the friend-zone, I have been rather bummed about it.
“Your mother says you have, because you haven’t dated anyone after her, even before you lost your hair and more than half your weight.”
I had a hell of a lot more on my mind than dating before I lost my hair and weight, but that’s obvious, so I don’t share that fact. “My mother needs to shut the fuck up.”
“She just cares about you and wants you to live a full happy life in spite of the cancer.”
“I plan to do that, but in my own timing. Not hers.”
“Which is another reason I didn’t bite. If you weren’t up to the task of asking me out, I certainly didn’t want any help from your mother, ‘the matchmaker.’”
“Fair enough, and to answer your previous question, Alyssa is the first woman I’ve ever met who made me believe I could even be monogamous.”
“That’s saying a lot. I do recall you were photographed with one hell of a lot of groupies back in the day.”
“We were on the road so much it didn’t lend to any of us having a steady, except Sav.”
“Even non-rock star guys don’t look to settling down until much later than their female counterparts.”
“And I really took that to heart before Alyssa. She’s also the first woman to call me on my bullshit. She told me probably the second time we met that she wasn’t planning on being another of my ‘one-nighters,’ so if I didn’t plan on getting to really know her to fuck off.”
“Good for her.”
“You don’t even know her, and I’m your patient.”
“Yes, you are my patient. One who has a horrible history where women are concerned. Of course I’m going to side with her.”
“You know what, you’re right. She’s a much better person than I am, that’s for sure,” I say. Despite the shit-show that her childhood was as a result of losing her mother at a young age, and her father’s subsequent addictions, she’s much better adjusted even than I am with my loving, two-parent household. “Alyssa is fun-loving, caring, and loyal once she’s able to figure out whether you’re trying to sell her a bill of goods or not. She’s also a brilliant singer and songwriter.”
“Sounds like the perfect woman for you.”
“She is. I just need to convince her that I’m a man she can trust again, in spite of my disappearance a year ago.”
“Besides ghosting her, have you given her any reason not to trust you?”
“You sound just like Sav. No, I haven’t been with any other women.”
“Women. Plural. Wow.” This chick does sarcasm better than Finn.
“Well, that is what you were asking, right?” I am teeming with indignation.
“What I actually meant was have you been totally honest and above-board with her on everything else?”
That knocks me down a peg or two. “Not really.”
“What does that mean, Dylan? Either you have or you haven’t.”
I roll my eyes. “Maybe I’m planning on doing something that could move the dial either way.”
“What? Tell me that this plan doesn’t have anything to do with not telling her the truth?”
When I don’t answer immediately, Dani assumes the worse. “There is no reason why you shouldn’t tell her now. You’re in remission.”
“I have good reason. She’s so pissed that I didn’t stay in touch, she won’t give us a chance.”
“And being dishonest with her further is going to get her to give you another chance?
“I am going to be honest with her–when I win her back.”
“In what universe is that a smart thing to do? Considering your relationship with her is already on shaky ground.”
“Sav says she was really freaked out about seeing me again at the wedding, and I’m hoping her feelings for me are strong enough to rebuild what we began a year ago.”
“Like I said you’re as clueless as Jon Snow.”
“So what is this mystery about women you’re alluding to that neither Jon Snow nor I get?” I ask as we turn down my parent’s street.
“If she truly loves you, she would’ve been your staunchest supporter even through the cancer, second only to Lillian Castle. But I have a feeling that not only did she never know you had cancer. No one did.”
“How did you make that deduction?”
“I’ve been coming to treat you for almost a year, and you’ve never had friends over, not even a phone call. And judging from some of the morsels of information your mother has shared with me, I don’t think you even told any of your band mates. Keeping it from your fans is one thing, but from your closest friends? Not cool.”
“Sav knows.”
“How long has he known?”
My nails suddenly become very interesting. “I just told him.”
“You know, there is nothing embarrassing about having cancer.”
“I didn’t say there was.”
“But that’s the way you’ve been acting.” She pulls the car into my parents’ driveway and parks, only then does she turn to look at me fully. “You know, most people would use sickness to their advantage in love and war.”
I lift my chin. “Well, not me.”
“I see that.” She releases her seatbelt and I follow suit. “What if there was a way we could help each other out in this situation?”
“I’m all ears.”
“You want to get your girl back, and I want to meet Finn. Why don’t we go to this wedding together?”
I allow Dani’s suggestion to sink in. Alyssa told me she’s bringing a date to the wedding, so if I brought one, too, it wouldn’t be so far-fetched. And, despite not having seen her display any covert jealously, I do believe if I were to turn up with a chick as hot as Dani, it would definitely bring out the green-eyed monster in Alyssa, especially if I were to play it cool with her having a date and act as if I’m really into Dani.
This could work in my favor, and even if Finn brings a date, I’d still be keeping my part of the bargain. My mother may be in the matchmaking business, but I most definitely am not. In the spirit of full disclosure, I prepare Dani for the possibility that meeting Finn may not work in her favor.
“I haven’t talked to Finn in almost a year. He could be dating someone, or hell he could be married for all I know,” I say.
“I doubt he’s married. The media would be all over that. And if he brings a date. So what? I’m not afraid of a little competition.”
Her confidence is astounding. Danielle Ayers is a player! Good thing I didn’t bite. She’d likely have been the first girl to give me a taste of my own medicine.
I offer her my hand for us to shake on our deal. “Okay, get your affairs in order with your employer. I hope you have enough personal leave to take a couple of weeks off early next month.”
“No problem.” She says with a self-satisfied smirk. “Let’s get together after your fitting this weekend to make sure our stories sync up.”
“Good idea,” I say, then I have another fleeting thought. “If you’re going to be playing my date, how are you going to convince everyone we’re a legit couple and still make a play for Finn?”
Dani scoffs. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been on a date with one girl and gon
e home with an entirely different girl?”
This woman couldn’t be more like me if we had the same DNA. We share a mirrored evil smile between us. I had never looked so forward to a wedding in my entire life.
I’m packing to head out to the airport for my tux fitting. This trip to the west coast is much like a reconnaissance mission. I’ll be gathering intel by gauging Alyssa’s reaction to me prior to the Maldives trip. I don’t expect her to be warm, friendly or vulnerable with me considering how I’d treated her after my diagnosis. If I had it to do all over again, maybe I would have told her the truth in the beginning even though we had not confessed any feeling other than extreme attraction and strong like toward one another. Life is about taking risks otherwise there would never be any rewards.
A phone call from Brody prevents me from truly waxing existential.
“What’s up man?” I say, stuffing socks into my suitcase.
“Are you up to standing in for Sky and Alyssa’s drummer this weekend if Alyssa’s okay with it?”
“Maybe. What’s up with their guy?”
“Snare’s dad had a stroke and he flew out to Michigan on a red-eye this morning.”
“Studio work or live performance?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not really, it just gives me an idea of how on my game I need to be.”
“Studio, definitely. Live performance, maybe. We need to re-record some tracks for Alyssa.”
It was as if I could hear the screeching sound of a needle scratch across a record as I stop what I’m doing and give Brody my undivided attention. Considering who this set is for and the fact that it is a studio session, now everything needed to be perfect.
Studio performances are all about precision, but live performances can be a bit sloppy as I would be much more concerned about reacting to other members of the band, putting on a good show, and powering through the entire set by any means necessary because there are no second takes.
