by Scott, S. L.
“My dreams already came true,” she replies easily, her tone letting me know she’s not moving from this bed anytime soon.
She makes me want to stay here in bed with her—the warmth of her body, the suggestive curves of her breast pressed against me tempt me to stay forever. But I have ideas about her remaining time on the island, not wanting her to miss a thing. Her eyes are bright with possibility, so I say, “You only have two weeks left. I thought we could cram in all the stuff that everyone usually wants to do while visiting the island, starting with that luau Sunny said you really wanted to go to. Would you like to go today since it’s your day off?”
“Really?” she asks, crinkling her nose. “You’d do the cheesy tourist thing for me?”
“I would do anything for you, Mallory.”
She leans forward and kisses me while her hand weaves into my hair, holding me to her. Her body wiggles even closer and then seductively gyrates against mine letting me know she wants me as much as I want her. “Would you make love to me again?”
“That’s not exactly torture you know.”
“I’m a simple girl with simple needs, what can I say.”
My hand slides against her stomach and upward across her breasts without stopping, skimming back down between her legs. Her eyes grow heavy and I watch as her breathing changes, deepening.
I move on top of her, spreading her legs with my knee, parting her for me. Adjusting my weight on my legs and forearms, I kiss her stomach while rubbing my thumbs across her hipbones, securing her to the mattress. Tilting my head, I lick the apex of her thighs.
“Evan?” she calls, surprised by my quick action.
I don’t answer because she’ll try to convince me not to do this so we can get to the sex part, but I want to make her feel good. I want to see her writhe under my tongue, to watch and feel her body beg to come then give in to the seduction. And I want to be exactly where I am when that happens.
Mallory has always been responsive to me and she doesn’t disappoint now. I learn more about her body and her likes every time we’re together. She wriggles when I wiggle my tongue around her clit. She jolts when I flick her lightly and slightly to the right with my tongue. And she melts, relaxing into the mattress when I go deeper. All the time I spent studying her over the last two months is paying off. I can feel her body tightening, coiling, as she grips the sheets in her fists. I continue circling then mixing up my pattern keeping her on edge.
I know she’ll orgasm as soon as I touch her with my fingers because I already have her worked into a sexual frenzy. I bring my hand up, sliding it over her thighs to warn her, allowing her to prepare before my fingers find their own warm heaven while continuing to move my tongue as I twist and curl.
Twist, curl, twist, spin, twist, curl.
She tremors under me, squirming around on the bed. “Oh my God, Evan! Get in me now!” She demands, pulling me up by the hair.
I jump up quickly removing my boxer briefs and grabbing a condom. “You want me, baby?”
“I want you, but I need you more,” she says, lighting a fire within me.
Knowing I make her feel this way, making her want me so much makes me hard as a fucking rock.
This morning is about love, not fucking I remind myself. After lying back down, hovering over her, I stare into the depths of her eyes.
She frowns, but the lines fade as she softly smiles. Stroking my hair from my forehead, she asks, “What is it?”
I kiss her, really kiss her and she begins to move beneath me as I guide myself inside of her, a physical bond from my soul to hers. My eyes close automatically, the feel of her overwhelming my senses.
Forcing them back open, I watch her face as she wraps her legs around my waist, keeping me close, as close as possible. My chest is against hers and every move is calculated with a slow and deliberate effort. Her eyes are closed and lips parted, her sweet breath inhaled as I breathe her in. I cover her mouth with mine and kiss her again.
An aching begins to build from intense desires. I want to lose control and move faster and harder, for pleasure alone, but I need to make love to her. I need to remember every one of her sighs and gestures, every movement and the whole feel of this experience. I can’t treat this casually. It’s not, and every time we come together needs to matter and be important.
Her body works against mine, her pull grounding me to her, pushing me to give into her own demanding movements. She breaks away from my mouth, gasping for air, but her eyes are still closed. I pick up my pace and add a hip move I know will feel good to my beautiful girlfriend.
I just didn’t count on it feeling so fucking incredible for me when giving her my all. With one deep thrust, I stop, squeezing my eyes shut and take a deep breath desperately trying to stave off my own undoing.
She looks up at me as I open my eyes. Cupping my face, she asks with only a breath between us, “Are you okay?”
Once again, I look beyond the tranquil emerald flecks in the center of her green eyes, and reply, “I love you, Mallory.”
“I love you, too.”
Dropping my head against her forehead, my emotions get the best of me. “I need all of you. Everything.”
“Look at me, Evan.” When I do, she says, “You have all of me. I’m yours, completely.” She plants a sweet kiss on my lips and then with her heels, encourages me to start moving again.
I do. I start moving and thrusting, letting my mind get washed into its own oblivion of Mallory goodness. And like my mind, my body follows swiftly as I release while buried inside. When comprehension returns, I open my eyes to find her watching me intently as if doing some memorizing herself.
She sighs contentedly and says, “I wish I could capture that face on film.”
I drop on top of her, smiling but exhausted, and rest my head snuggled to her neck as it dawns on me what she’s talking about. “My come face? You want a picture of my come face?” I chuckle at the notion.
She rubs my back gently, dragging her nails lightly along my skin giving me goose bumps and relaxing me as she explains, “Yes, your come face. You’re beautiful all the time, but when you orgasm, you’re feral and sexy as hell.”
I laugh a little harder, feeling exhaustion starting to kick in. “Maybe one day I’ll let you take a pic, but I’m going to need one of you in return.”
A satiated smile lifts the corners of her mouth up. “That would be only fair.”
She snuggles down, pulling the blankets around us and we fall asleep in a tangle of limbs and mingling breaths, soft words of love, and hearts, minds and bodies satisfied.
* * *
I don’t like waking up alone anymore. It’s disconcerting to me.
My arms grapple the vast emptiness of the space beside me and my eyes pop open in response. I look around. “Mallory?” tumbles from my mouth without thought, but on instinct.
Sitting up, I find only silence surrounding me. “Mallory?” Flipping the covers off my body, I swing my legs over the edge and walk into the bathroom, still calling her name. “Mallory?”
I don’t know why I feel like something is wrong, but when I walk through the house, still naked from our earlier activities, frantic thoughts race through my brain. I open the back door to see if she’s out there. “Mallory?” I call loudly, but still don’t receive an answer.
Running back in, I grab a pair of shorts from the floor, shoving one leg quickly in and almost tripping to get the other one in as I hurry for the front door. I race by the pool, zipping my pants up, still calling her name.
I rush inside the main house, buttoning the top button of my shorts, out of breath from anxiety, and halt instantly. I hear her. I hear her talking. I hear her laughing. I also hear Ms. Chart laughing. Calm overrides all my worries and I exhale, loudly.
Then I call her, softer in tone, more relaxed, and hopeful. “Mallory?”
“Oh, there he is now.” I hear her before I see her coming from Ms. Chart’s bedroom with a bright smile on her face.
/> Surprising me, she jumps up on me, wrapping her legs around my waist, and I catch her, holding her by her bottom. I’m liking this new greeting that she’s been giving me lately. I squeeze her ass for good measure.
“Good morning, babe,” she says, kissing me on the lips.
“I think it’s more like afternoon, Mallory,” Ms. Chart corrects her playfully then lovingly scolds me, “Evan, you’ve slept half the day away. You shouldn’t keep your guests waiting like that.”
“Yes, you shouldn’t have kept me waiting because I got into all kinds of trouble while you were sleeping. I was lucky I found such great company to spend time with,” Mallory adds, dropping her feet to the floor again.
I smirk. “What kind of trouble would that be, my beautiful girlfriend?” I kiss her on the forehead, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and bringing her to my side.
Mallory looks at Ms. Chart and says, “You’re gonna get in so much trouble—”
I can feel the frown form across my face as I look between them sharing secrets like old friends.
“I’ll let you tell him. You practically twisted my arm. What was I supposed to do?” Ms. Chart adds, looking at Mallory.
Mallory giggles, looks up at me, and announces, “Don’t worry, I love chubby babies.”
“What?” The fuck?
“You were such a cute little guy,” she adds in this baby tone and pinches my cheeks.
I look at Ms. Chart in embarrassment. “You didn’t, did you?”
Looking as innocent as a guilty woman can look, she throws her hands in the air. “I couldn’t resist. Mallory is very persuasive.”
“No,” is all I can say, shaking my head.
A huge smile crosses Mallory’s face, cocking a challenging eyebrow up at me, she says, “Oh yeah, I saw the goods, ya little chunkers.”
“I can’t help that they fed me all the time. It’s not like I was helping myself in the kitchen.” I try to justify my heavy baby build.
“Don’t get all defensive. I think you were adorable, like you are now.” She reassures me by hugging me tightly and sighs. “I love babies.”
Do I want to have a baby conversation right now? No, not really. “You love looking at babies?” I ask nervous to where this conversation is heading.
“I love babies, looking and holding. I babysat a lot in high school. I love the smell and feel of their soft skin.” Her eyes get this far away look in them as she speaks, in a dreamy way. She starts illustrating with her arms in the air. “When they’re all cranky and you soothe them and they fall asleep in your arms. Aww…” She places her hand over her heart. “It’s just the sweetest thing.”
“Seriously, are we talking about babies right now?” I ask, scratching my head.
Resting the palms of her hands on my chest, she asks, “Why are you so nervous? It’s not like I’m planning our family or anything. Geez Louise, you need to lighten up, babe. Gail was only showing me—”
“Gail? Why are you calling her that?”
Mallory walks across the kitchen, opens the fridge, and pulls out two plates, handing them to me. “Can you carry these please? I thought we’d eat lunch by the pool.”
I take the plates from her, but still stand there waiting for her to answer. She grabs two cans of soda before walking around me and out the back door. I follow, outpacing her to reach the table first. Setting the plates down, I ask, “Did she ask you to call her that?”
We slowly sit down. She puts her elbows on the table and rests her head in her hands. “Yes, but I can call her Ms. Chart if you prefer. She’s really a great lady.”
“Yes, I agree. She is. It’s—”
Reaching across the table, her hands come to rest on mine. “Do you want to call her Gail, babe?”
Suddenly I feel like I’m five years old in my reasoning. I’m just realizing how controlled my life has been. “I used to… for a few years before the whole Lani thing.” My voice gets quieter though it’s unintentional. “It was kind of a secret between us, but when my parents came to the island to deal with everything, I slipped up. My mother freaked out. She feels threatened by her and that’s her way of making the distinction that she’s not family.” I pause then add, “I’m being rude. I should put a shirt on for lunch.”
I start to stand, but she stops me. “No, I like looking at you, hot stuff. Anyway, it’s just us.” She lets out a small laugh like she’s sort of been caught doing something naughty.
“Come here.”
She comes over and settles into my lap, wrapping her arm around my neck and kissing my temple.
Her tone is lilt, happy. “I love being here with you like this.”
Squeezing her tighter, I say, “I feel the same way. I don’t want you to go, but your college is important. That kind of reminds me of something we need to talk about.” I look at her eyes as they meet mine. “You want to go for a walk down on the beach?”
“I’m not sure. You’re kind of scaring me right now.”
“Don’t stress. I just want to share what’s on my mind.”
I lift up and she stands. Taking her hand, we walk to the steps that lead to the beach. She stops me, pulling back on my hand. “Really, um… we can talk here,” she says, obviously thinking it’s worse than it is.
“It’s not bad, well… it’s not going to affect us if that’s what you’re worried about, well, maybe, but... it won’t separate us… hmmm… well… it will—”
She instantly halts. “Stop! You’re really freaking me out.”
“Calm down. It’s good news.” I see her breathing deepen from the shallow short breaths she was taking a few seconds before. “My dad offered me a job—”
“In New York?”
“Yes.”
“At his company?”
“Yes.”
“You said you hated New York?”
“I did… I do.” I scrape my hand roughly across my scalp trying to phrase this to her in a way that makes some kind of sense. “Mallory, there are several reasons why I should take this job.”
“Okay.”
“Well, first of all, it pays well and considering I don’t have a job, I kind of need the money, especially if I want to come to Boulder spring semester.”
She nods in understanding, but then asks, “Do you really need the money, Evan? I mean look around this place. You have the latest and greatest of everything from TV’s to cars, an endless supply of ‘fun’ money, and no bills from what I can gather. I’m not judging you, but I don’t think it’s about the money. I think it’s about you needing to prove something to your parents.”
Thinking about what she said in quiet contemplation for a long minute before I turn, looking at her. “More than my parents, I want to do this for us, for you. You’re right, my monthly allowance is more than sufficient to live off of, but I need something to do. I may look like a lazy bastard most of the time, but I like keeping my mind occupied.”
“I wasn’t calling you lazy,” she says, resting her hand on my forearm.
“I know you weren’t, but I need to do this for myself as well. This will be extra money that I’ll have to help us in Colorado.”
“I can support myself at school. I don’t want you to take a job because you think you need to support me. I don’t live a fancy lifestyle or in a swanky apartment. I have an old box TV, an even older Toyota, but I have a job that pays the bills and I’m happy. So please, if you take this job, do it for you and only you.”
“This experience will look good on my resume.”
She walks to the edge of the water, letting her feet get covered by the tide. “Work experience is always a bonus on a resume while you’re in college. It shows you’re motivated and have a good work ethic.”
“You sound like my dad.”
“I like your dad,” she says, chuckling. “So you’ve made up your mind?”
“I wanted to talk to you about it, but yes, I think I’m pretty solid with this decision.”
She wraps her arms around
my shoulders. “I’ll miss you, but I’d miss you if you were here too.” Dropping her head on my right shoulder, she asks, “Can I be honest about something?”
“I hope you’re always honest with me.”
“The girls,” she corrects herself, “the women there in New York, they’re—”
“They don’t compare to you. No one has ever made me feel the way you do. I’m there for a job and to hopefully help my family keep the business in the family. Nothing else, okay, baby?” I kiss her. She responds positively to my answer by intensifying the kiss.
45
Evan
The afternoon sun is bright, but we’re still on a deadline when she finally walks out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go. “You look great,” I say, ogling her hotness. She’s all lean legs and tight T-shirt, shorts, and flowing hair tonight. She’s breathtaking.
While driving to our secret first stop, she states, “You said you hated it when you lived in New York after Yale.”
She doesn’t say anything else, but I can see where her mind is at. She has those pesky fears of me cheating or falling prey to some Manhattan society chick, but that is not gonna happen. The only way to truly alleviate her fears is to prove it to her, which I will.
I pull into the parking lot of Hilo Hattie, the largest store of Hawaiian shirts in the world. She looks at the store then back at me as if I must have driven to the wrong place. But I smile and waggle my eyebrows. After hopping out, I run around and help her out of the car. She’s learned to wait most of the time.
“We’re shopping?” she asks, surprised as I knew she would be.
“Yes,” I say, “we’re shopping.” We stop inside the entrance and pose in front of the largest Hawaiian shirt in the world. I hold my phone out in front of us and take a photo.
“What are you up to, Ashford?”
“If we’re gonna do this luau touristy thing, we’re gonna do it right.” Seeing the clothes in the back, we head straight through the knick-knack section and into the women’s section. “Pick out whatever you want. My treat.”
