by L. B. Dunbar
She was silent for a moment.
“Those are all things outside of you, but what do I do for you?” she said softly, looking at her hands splayed on my chest.
“Guinevere,” I said on a sigh, forcing her to look up at me. “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. You make me smile and laugh and write songs. You inspire me with your desire to be yourself and you motivate me to be a better man. You make me feel special, and not just because I’m a member of a band. I feel … I feel cherished. That’s what you do for me.”
I thought I might have said too much until she leaned forward to kiss me again, softer this time, but with no less intention. Her lips caressed mine, taking her time to memorize each bow and curve as she traced them with her tongue. She slipped it into my mouth briefly before allowing mine to enter hers. I groaned as I rolled her over, spreading her legs to allow me to line up between her thighs. I pressed into her center as I had done many times this past week. I would please her before she relieved me with her hand or mouth, spreading the wealth of her limited experience.
The tip of me applied pressure to her moist center and she moaned, wrapping a leg over my hip. I gripped her thigh to raise it higher as I nudged her harder.
“Arturo,” she said in that breathy call I knew meant that she was getting close.
“Arturo, stop,” she said, placing her hands gently on my chest.
I froze. She never stopped me. I pulled back immediately, but she kept her leg around my hip, tightening her hold. I was confused.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said shyly. She searched my face, opening her mouth once then closing it and biting her lower lip.
“What? Tell me,” I demanded gently.
“Arturo? Make love to me? Please?”
I would not deny her.
“Are you sure?”
“I just asked you. I think I’m pretty sure.”
“Think you’re pretty sure?” I repeated, kissing her quickly with a laugh.
“Definitely sure,” she said breathlessly into my ear.
I pulled her boy shorts down immediately and worked her with my fingers, but I knew she was ready for me. We were exciting each other just moments before, yet the surprise of her wetness took me off-guard.
“Guinie, you’re practically dripping.”
She turned her head away from me, but I nudged her with my nose.
“Look at me,” I whispered in her ear before I kissed below it down to that place where her neck met her shoulder. I bit gently and she arched her back, pressing herself into my hand.
“Arturo. I want to feel it happen around you.”
“You will, beautiful. You will.”
I knew she would come twice, if not more. My fingers ran over her and slid into her repeatedly until she cried out my name in a plea.
“Arturo, please,” her voice struggled.
I played her until she was finished and then I removed my own boxers quickly. I’d placed condoms in her nightstand earlier in the week, joking with her that it was wishful thinking, and then showering her with kisses to assure her I would wait. I would have continued waiting, but she was practically begging me. I rolled on the condom, which she watched in fascination, and I knew I would have to teach her how to do it, but not tonight. Tonight she wanted me and I needed her now.
“Guinie, you’re su-” I couldn’t finish before her lips were on mine again. I positioned myself to meet her center and I pressed forward as we kissed. I felt her still and pulled back to watch her. Despite the darkness of the room, I could see her wide blue eyes looking back at me with concern, but also something more. She trusted me, but I sensed it was even more than that.
“It’s going to hurt.” She nodded as if to say she knew.
“But I’ll go slow. Or fast. Whatever you want.” She nodded again.
I pushed forward and she flinched a little. My eyes questioned hers, hoping she wouldn’t stop me, but knowing if she said the word I would. Immediately.
“Guinevere,” I started. I was about to tell her I loved her, knowing that this would have been the most inopportune time. She would have never known that I was saying it because I suddenly felt it. Not because I wanted to complete this act, but because I could feel it coming off my body and entering her. She surrounded me, but I wanted to complete her. Fill her with me to make us.
She stared at me with longing as I pushed forward farther, and she bit her lip.
“You’re tight, but it will get easier,” I said instead of what I was thinking in my heart. “You’re so fucking tight, but it’s sweet and it feels amazing, Guinie. You are amazing.”
On those words, I pushed all the way into her and she gasped. I stilled, letting her take in the sensation. I needed a moment as well. I was overwhelmed with the emotion that came with the feeling of being inside her. I needed to clear my mind.
“Arturo,” she said softly. “You can … you can move.”
I slipped back and I felt her clench around me to hold me inside. She let out a breath of air as I pushed forward and slowly we developed a rhythm. A rhythm I had never known. In all my experience, it had always been equal parts get off and quick satisfaction, but this was something else. This was tender and, like everything I’d done within the past week with her, it was a discovery. A discovery of her. A discovery of me. I enjoyed sex, but I relished making love to Guinevere.
I was getting close, but I wanted to feel her collapse around me.
“Guinie. I can’t hold on much longer. You feel too good.”
Our breathing was ragged and we slipped a little against one another with the sweet sweat of sex on our skin.
“Arturo,” she groaned. Her legs were raised and wrapped around my waist. I was holding one thigh higher in order to fill her farther, and as I pressed forward, hiking her leg upward, she let out a muffled scream into my shoulder and bit me. I released on a thrust that brought spots to my eyes.
I grunted her name as I spilled into her, knowing I would never be the same.
When I woke, a naked Guinevere cradled in my arms was almost as glorious as being inside her. Almost. She was still sound asleep, pressed into my chest, and I realized I could not be without her. I made a plan for the day.
I left her sleeping, but not wanting to feel like a thief in the night I left her a note that included the lyrics to one of my new songs.
My love for you can only grow
One day I want to make you mine
Keep loving you despite the cold
Stay the night to still the time
Make love to you to show
How I feel about you inside
Feel you against me
Stay the night to still the time
My love for you will explode
One day you will be mine
Freeing me despite the cold
Stay the night to still the time
I added my own private words to the end.
Last night was wonderful and you are beautiful.
Come find me in the barn when you wake.
Guinevere
I woke to an empty bed and a full heart. I found Arturo’s note immediately and I had to smile despite the lonely pillow beside me. I hadn’t always been awake when he rose each morning, but I had hoped that he would have stayed after last night. I didn’t dwell on it though, as I was sore in places I didn’t know existed and had shaky muscles I didn’t know I had. I decided on a bath instead of a run and the warm water stung at first.
After a moment, I settled back and rested my head, closing my eyes and replaying the night in my mind. There were things that Arturo said that left my brain fuzzy. He’d mentioned being with just me. Did that mean he could be exclusive after all? What would happen when we returned to the city? Panic had set in when I realized I only had a week left in this lakeside hide-away and I knew if I didn’t ask him to make love to me, he might never have. I didn’t understand what held him back. He seemed happy enough with our nigh
tly encounters, but I knew he probably preferred a more experienced partner.
My mind wandered to my father and his warning to be careful. I was rather surprised knowing how well my father liked Arturo, but I also knew that my father knew Arturo better than me. He would know what kind of man Arturo was. I only knew the rock star persona. Although, I did believe that I understood Arturo, the man, a bit better over these weeks. He was kind to me. He cared about me. I knew that despite my disgruntlement over his arranging an interview for me, it was rather sweet and considerate of him.
I climbed out of the bath and looked toward my cello through the open door realizing I would need to practice each day for the next week. I gasped when I found it was gone. I quickly entered my room to search, as if a rather large instrument could be hidden in such a sparsely furnished room. I dressed hurriedly and practically sprinted to the barn in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. I hadn’t thought twice about my appearance before I left the house. My hair was still wet and the front of my shirt was soaked when I pushed open the barn door.
The guys had been practicing and they suddenly stopped, one instrument thudding to a conclusion after another. Four guys stared at me. Arturo had a crooked smile on his face as he approached me. I heard Tristan laugh, saying “shit” under his breath, as Lansing looked away from me. Perk continued to stare for a moment longer before dropping his eyes back to his drums.
“Guinevere,” Arturo said sultrily, “you’re very wet.”
My head snapped to look up at him, not appreciating his teasing tone. I glared at him and he laughed, then he reached out and tugged my hair. He stepped closer into my space.
“Your shirt is wet in the right places, highlighting that you might be slightly excited, but I don’t appreciate that the guys are getting a show,” he growled with a smile on his lips before he leaned in and kissed me softly. His mouth caressed mine at it always did, but I pushed back abruptly.
“My cello’s gone,” I blurted, not taking in his playful attention. He pulled off his own shirt and pushed it over my head, tugging my hair out the collar.
“I really like you in my clothes,” he said again flirtatiously.
“Arturo, this is serious.”
He smiled again, but I held my stance, crossing my arms over my chest, feeling suddenly how wet my own shirt was against my skin. I shivered.
“I have your cello,” he said with another crooked smile, his dark eyes gleaming at me.
“Why?” I said, my anger dissipating a little.
“I want us to play. Together.” He tugged on my wet hair again, holding the end between his fingers. “Shower?”
“Bath.”
His eyes opened wide and he leaned over to speak directly in my ear.
“I should have stayed. We could have bathed together. I’m sorry; I should have taken care of you.”
When he pulled back, I felt like I had been stun-gunned. My body was rigid, but my heart pulsed wildly within my chest. I never would have thought of bathing together and yet the image of sharing the bathtub with Arturo made me blush desperately, recalling our intimacy the night before.
“Later,” he laughed and kissed me again before taking my hand and walking me into the barn.
“I … I can’t play with you guys,” I stumbled over both the words and my own feet walking over some wires crossing the floor.
“Not all of us, just me. Give us a little more time and we’ll break.”
I was led to a comfy chair and I folded into it to see my cello propped against a stand to the side of their setup. I was distracted when the band started up and Arturo’s voice filled the barn. He stood before me in his shirtless glory and my concentration was on his low-hung jeans that exposed a trail leading inside to a place I had grown very familiar with lately. I was slow to recognize the words that were written on the note Arturo left me this morning, and I watched as Arturo’s eyes closed and he became absorbed in the lyrics. His eyes opened immediately as if he could feel my stare and he held my gaze. Bright blue to dark brown. I was hypnotized by his voice and frozen by the words as he sang of love and staying the night.
His eyes never left mine as he sang, and played his guitar blindly, still holding my focus. When the song finished, he continued to look at me and I felt naked, but worshiped at the same time. A crooked smile crossed his lips again and I had to smile in return. He let the guys go, telling them he’d catch up with them later, and approached me.
“What’s the best setup?”
“Arturo, I don’t know about this.”
“You need to practice and I want to play with you. This is perfect. Come on,” he pleaded as he leaned onto the arms of the chair where I sat and towered over me. I was a deer in headlights again as he looked down at me before lowering himself to kiss me like he always did, powerful, possessive, and all-consuming. I was breathless when he pulled back and I knew in that moment I would do anything he asked. Anything.
He brought my cello to me and I situated myself as he waited, sitting on a nearby stool. When I was ready, I began with something I hoped would throw him off. Bach’s Suite for Cello No. 1 in G major. It wasn’t that Arturo knew the tune, it was that he was able to pick up the melody. He began to play along with me, making up a rhythm to complement mine as he stroked the guitar. Seeing that he couldn’t be outdone with that one, I paused only briefly enough to switch to another sonata in C sharp. Arturo raised an eyebrow in question at the sudden change, but he followed suit and began to play in his own way to the sound. I gave up trying to trick him and broke into a more popular song with a heavy cello sound in the melody. Arturo laughed without missing a beat and began to play that song, occasionally adding the lyrics. I nodded at him to pick a song when we finished and I followed his lead as he broke into one of his own.
Time passed, and despite the air-conditioning in the barn, I was soaked from the exertion of playing. Arturo remained without a shirt and his skin glistened with sweat. He bobbed his head once and I knew to stop. We stared at each other, breathless. My heart was racing and I could see Arturo’s chest rising and falling in time with mine. He placed his guitar to the side of him and sauntered over to me. I didn’t take my eyes off his – dark, dangerous, and deadlocked on mine. He moved my cello from between my knees and replaced the instrument with himself. Kneeling before me, he slipped his hands across my cheeks and into my now sweat-damp hair. He wove his fingers in my tangles and moved forward powerfully to kiss me. I knocked back into the seat, but Arturo followed, not breaking our kiss.
His lips were aggressive as he attacked my mouth, covering mine before sucking on my bottom lip, pausing for a moment then sliding to my chin. He lavished my jaw down to my neck, working in a sequence of nips and sucks to soothe the sting. I tilted my head back to give him better access and his hands released my hair to caress my body over my shoulders, across my aching breasts to the hem of my shirt.
“That was incredibly hot, Guinie,” he groaned against my now-bare stomach as he lifted my shirt to pull it over my head. “I think I love you for that, beautiful.”
“You think?” I teased him with his words from last night, trying to make light of the moment.
“Pretty sure.” He kissed me to cut off any response, but I pulled back.
“Pretty sure?” I giggled against his lips as I threw his words at him again.
“Definitely sure,” he said staring into my eyes. I hesitated for a moment, not really positive he was saying what I thought he was saying, not to mention I was distracted with worry for a moment that the guys would return any minute for additional practice. My hesitation caused Arturo to pause.
“What?” His eyes leapt to my face, concern in them despite the darkness of desire.
“What about the guys?”
“They won’t be back yet.”
Before I could respond his mouth was on my right breast over my bra. He bit me gently yet I yelped. My jump released his teeth and he pulled down the cup to expose me to his warm mouth. He sucked an
d tugged at my hard nipples and the all-too-familiar feeling grew between my legs. I was becoming addicted to him and my mind had a brief flash of remembrance from our midnight lovemaking. I groaned as my hands delved into his choppy waves and I held him against me, needing more.
His hand made quick work to remove my bra completely and he licked a path with his tongue to my other breast, giving it equal attention. Breathless, panting, I arched farther back against the chair to give him full access to me. My legs had opened wider to press my center against his chest and my hips moved of their own will in attempts at friction in that sweet spot. I was in this position when the barn down slid open and I was bathed in bright sunlight.
“Dude,” Arturo’s lips pulled off me, making a popping sound, and he quickly covered me with his own body by pulling me into an embrace and standing to face our intruder. My bare back was to the door and Arturo spoke over my shoulder.
“What’s up?” I could hear the smile in Tristan’s voice as he exaggerated the words.
“I … I didn’t mean to … I thought maybe…” Lansing’s voice continued to break like he was a teenager reaching puberty. A deep flush came over my skin as I wrapped my own arms tighter across my chest inside Arturo’s constricting hug.
“If we had known you were taking a love-break, we would have left for the day,” Tristan added with a laugh.
Could this get any more mortifying?
“Get your wallet, Lansing, and let’s get out of here. We’ve had enough for today,” came the voice of Mure Linn. Yes, I thought, it could get worse.
“Don’t look, man,” Arturo tried to laugh, but there was a definite edge to his tone.
“Sorry,” I heard Lans mumble, and Tristan’s soft laughter rose again.
My head lulled forward onto Arturo’s shoulder as if I could bury my shame at being caught with my shirt off, literally.
