Those words alone almost do the trick.
His tongue is on me again, and he drives his fingers deep inside me, hard. My muscles tighten and I can barely breathe. His mouth and hand are moving perfectly, bringing me closer and closer to the edge, and he’s got total control over me now. It feels like forever that he keeps me on that delicious brink of ecstasy that he gives me just before I come. This? This I cannot do to myself. And then Chris moves just a little faster until I explode. He lightens the pressure as I start to throb against his mouth. I can’t believe how hard I’m coming, how much I’m trembling, how loud I am. He lifts his mouth and gently rubs me with his fingers, making sure I get to enjoy this fully.
And although I’ve just had the most incredible, satisfying orgasm, and I can hardly see straight, I want more.
I’m still dizzy and breathing hard when he kisses his way up my body. “You and your pussy are fucking delicious.”
“Wait …” I’m still half asleep, but I’m alert enough to realize that he’s fully dressed. “Why are there clothes? Stop it with all the clothes-wearing nonsense.”
He kisses me again. “I have to go. I’ll be back later this afternoon.”
“Sabin?” I ask.
“Yeah. Dinner at seven tonight, okay?” He pauses. “So I’ll be here at five.”
I smile. “Five is good. Hope things go well today.”
“Go back to sleep, sweet girl.” He pulls the comforter over me and kisses me on the cheek.
I sleep until after one in the afternoon. Getting laid until all hours of the night is evidently exhausting. After I shower and get dressed, I text James. I’m not ready to fake a friendly chat, but I don’t want to cut off communication with him. Housekeeping knocks on the door, and I decide that if ever a room needed cleaning, it’s this one.
Besides, I’m starving. The hotel lounge has a nice lunch menu, so I head down there and inhale a sandwich and then ask for the largest cappuccino they’ll make me. Then I order another one.
I’ve only been awake for a short time, but I check the time because I cannot wait until five o’clock. It’s impossible to stop smiling like an idiot, so I hold my phone in front of me to give anyone nearby the impression that I am wildly amused by some stupid regretsy post.
An e-mail comes through. One I’ve been hoping for. Annie has written me back. A long, thoughtful, amazing response to mine. She is heartbreakingly understanding, and not only does she not blame me for pushing her away, but she even confesses that to some degree what I did was a relief. I remind her of my mom in the same way that she reminds me of my mom. We can recover from that, though, she says. She promises. Annie insists that we talk on the phone—soon if I’m up for it, but later if that’s what I need.
I’m tempted to call her right then, but I decide to move slowly. My e-mail reply to her is full of relief, and joy, and assurances that I will call soon. And I will.
I look around the hotel lounge. Spending money on this place is obscene and unnecessary. Normally I am not a particularly self-indulgent person, and if I hadn’t run into Chris here I suspect that I would have moved myself to a much cheaper place after a few nights when the amount of money I was wasting hit me. As it is, I am going to make peace with spoiling myself this week. Not everyone has the opportunity to escape into a hotel fantasy life for a week, and I am grateful that I can do this for myself. Especially at a place like this. The Madison Grand is very modern, but still cozy and comfortable, and there’s something sexy about it. Of course, everything seems sexy to me right now. I check out the potted tree a few feet away. Okay, good, I do not find the tree sexy at all, so I have not entirely gone off the deep end.
I can hardly believe how good last night was. I knew Chris and I had a certain energy together, or whatever, but I could never have imagined it would be the way it was. He is thorough and disciplined, but apparently also capable of losing control in a way that drives me insane. And the way he balances complete tenderness and care with that rough, dirty edge … It’s just damn hot. I’m aware that I was more than ready to have sex, but Chris seems to elicit a side of me that I didn’t know I had.
I guess when I imagined losing my virginity, I thought it would have a specific beginning and end—that I’d have sex one time and that would be that. Instead, losing my virginity to Chris led to a long night of sex so good that I never could have dreamed it up before. My craving for physical contact, for complete sensory inundation, feels endless right now. I wasn’t aware that my body could be so awake. Chris ignited this in me with his first touch, back when he taught me to skip stones, and he’s been bringing me back to life ever since.
Best of all, I don’t feel uncomfortable about what we’ve done. I’m not a gooey, lovesick mess. I feel something for Chris that I can’t even define. Having sex for the first time hasn’t changed what I feel and hasn’t created something that didn’t already exist. What we did last night, what we’re going to do tonight, is just another part of us being together. The idea of Chris as my “boyfriend” still sounds totally ludicrous. Boyfriends are about dates, and silly anniversaries, and crap like that. I can’t help feeling like becoming boyfriend and girlfriend would trivialize whatever is between us. If Chris and I ever do really get together, it’s not going to be trivial. It’s going to be the love affair to end all love affairs. It’s obvious that what we’ve been having is hotel-only sex, but I’m not worried about what happens when we go back to school. We’re solidly part of each other’s lives, and that’s not going to change when we leave the hotel.
And for now, he is giving me exactly what I want, and I hope that I’m giving him at least a fraction of the physical fulfillment that I’ve had. I am saturated with the need to bring him to the edge of insanity the way he did for me. It amazes me that with Chris, I have such a sense of confidence and security despite my inexperience. I would do anything with him.
I make a stop at the drugstore across the street and load up on condoms before I head back to my room. God, yesterday I thought I knew what “feeling edgy” meant, but today is the real deal. All I want to hear is the sound of Chris knocking on my door so I can get my hands on him before dinner. Of course, I am dying to see Sabin, Estelle, and Eric tonight. I really do miss the hell out of them, especially my Sabin. It will take all my control not to yell at him for being irresponsible and stupid enough to drive drunk. What a dumb college-boy thing to do. He definitely deserves to be in deep shit for that, but I don’t want his life to be ruined, so I hope that court went as well as possible today.
I get a text from Chris at four thirty telling me that things with Sabin are not too bad, and he’ll fill me in later. He hasn’t told the others that I’m in town yet, so we’ll surprise them. Oh, and we’re all going somewhere nice for dinner so I should dress up.
Well, shit! I fly over to the closet and pull open the doors, stripping down to my underwear as I scan my closet. I need Estelle. It takes me twenty minutes to decide on a sleeveless black sheath dress that falls mid-thigh and tall black boots, both of which Estelle made me order from one of her favorite online stores. As I lay it out on the bed, it occurs to me that I really miss Estelle, and not just for her fashion sense. The truth is that we’re not exactly close in the sense of trading intimate secrets or engaging in stereotypical girl talk. I doubt she’ll ever talk to me about banging her professor, and I won’t talk to her about sleeping with her brother. Obviously. Yet despite the general lack of emotional sharing between us, I know undoubtedly that our friendship means the world to both of us. I scrounge through my drawstring bag of jewelry and pick out the silver cuff bracelet that Sabin gave me and a silver beaded choker that I’m hoping matches.
I look the outfit over and decide it seems like a safe bet. The fact that it’s a sleeveless dress and I’m not bothered makes me happy. Chris has had his hands and eyes on every inch of me, including my scar, and nothing freaks him out. We’re both beat up in different ways, and it doesn’t change anything.