Chapter Fourteen
Paul
The entire time I was on my date, I was thinking about Andi on her date. It wasn’t because I couldn’t trust her. It was because I was thinking about her blowing … blowing me to be more specific.
We’d been seeing each other for a week and all we’d done was kiss. There was nothing wrong with that, but let’s be real … I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to fuck her so fucking hard. I wanted to be buried so deep inside her that she was screaming my name and the neighbors were questioning if they should call for help.
It had been weeks—hell, I think it was going on months since I’d last gotten laid, and I was aching. My hand wasn’t doing the job anymore, and the more Andi strutted around in her short dresses and braless morning T-shirts, the more I was starting to lose it. I was trying not to show it when I was with her, but when I was alone in my bed at night, I worked myself good. I wanted Andi to work me, though. I wanted her hand, her mouth, her pussy—I wanted her to pleasure me, not my hand.
Andi wasn’t home from her date when I got home from mine, so I went to shower. When I came out, she was in her shower and I was half-tempted to join her but decided against it. Instead, I went to the living room and waited for her to finish. When she came out—braless—my eyes drifted to her chest then to her eyes.
“Gorgeous,” I greeted her.
“Sugar lips.” She laughed.
I motioned for her to come cuddle with me on the couch and she did, but not before kissing me.
“Did you win?”
“Well, not me, but my client did.”
“That’s what I meant.” I wrapped her in my arms so she was lying in front of me as I spooned her from behind.
“Can we talk about it in the morning? I’m exhausted.” She sighed as she got comfortable against me.
I kissed her bare shoulder that was exposed from her tank top. “Yeah, gorgeous, we can.”
“Can we also do something different tonight?”
My ears perked up … and so did my dick. “What’s that?”
“Dating other people does suck and I was wondering if you’d sleep in my bed tonight?”
“You want me to sleep in your bed?” My smile widened.
“Well, it’s bigger than this couch.” She laughed.
“My bed is bigger than your bed.” I teased.
“Then can we sleep in your bed?”
Was she really only referring to sleeping or was sleeping code for sex? Either way I wanted her in my bed.
“Yeah, baby, let’s go to bed.”
I woke with Andi asleep on my chest. When she said she wanted to sleep in my bed, she really did mean sleep. We crawled into my bed and the moment her head rested on my chest, she was out and I mean out. She snores a little and it’s cute. I’d lightly run my fingertips along her arm, savoring Andi’s body on mine until sleep overtook and I drifted off.
I had to piss when I woke, but I’d be damned if I was going to ruin this moment. Instead, I lightly ran my fingertips on her bare arm. She stirred and peeked up at me.
“Morning.” I smiled.
“Are you always this happy in the morning?”
“Yes, especially with my girl on me.”
“I see your cockiness is in full effect too.”
“Oh, my cock is definitely in full effect.” I nudged my head toward my crotch. She groaned and started to roll off of me. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I need coffee to deal with all of this.” She waved her hand up and down my body and I grabbed her wrist, tugging on her until she straddled my hips.
“You’re not going anywhere until you at least kiss me.”
“With morning breath?” she mumbled into my chest.
“I don’t give a shit, woman.”
I grabbed her cheeks and planted a firm kiss on her lips until she opened up and allowed my tongue to enter her mouth. If kissing her was all I was allowed to do for whatever reason, then I was going to love her mouth as if it was her fucking pussy. I sucked on her tongue, drawing it into my mouth as far as it would go until a moan escaped her. My hips pressed up, my dick hard and searching for that one spot it wanted to be. When I pressed it between her legs, she jumped, breaking our contact.
“Coffee,” she mumbled and hurried out the door, leaving me hard and aching.
We both worked in the sex industry and I understood that not all chicks went around sleeping with guys, but I thought I’d made it clear that we were in a serious relationship. I wasn’t sleeping with anyone else and I wanted to be with only her. I needed to make it clear that even though it had only been a week, a week was long enough for me.
We needed to get on the same page.
The week went on. Each night we slept together and by slept, I meant slept. So I came up with a plan.
“Honey, I’m home,” I sang, coming in from the garage.
“I’m in the kitchen,” she called back.
“We’re so domesticated.” I laughed. “What smells good?” I sniffed the air.
“I’m no Food Network chef so you’re only getting tacos.”
“That’s perfect because I picked up this.” I held up the bottle of Patrón.
“Want to get me drunk tonight?” She laughed.
I walked up behind her, brushed her hair to the side, and kissed her neck. “I heard tequila makes clothes fall off?”
“That’s a song silly.”
“Well, we’re gonna find out.”
I made us tequila with Coke, a squeeze of lime, and a dash of salt to go with our tacos. We were two drinks in, and I was four tacos deep when Andi asked the question I’d been avoiding since our first date.
“How long were you with her?”
I stared at her for a few seconds, not sure if I wanted to go down this road. I rubbed my hand down my face. “I guess it was almost two years. Maybe less.”
“Was it recent?”
I gave a sarcastic laugh. “Nah, far from it. It was a long ass time ago.”
“And you’re still hung up on her?”
I drew in my eyebrows. “What gives you that idea?”
She took a sip of her drink. “Well, you haven’t had a serious relationship since her.”
“I haven’t wanted one since her … Until you, gorgeous.”
She smiled and a blush crept up her neck. After a few moments and another sip of her drink she said, “If you went that long then she must have fucked you up good.”
I smiled. “You really do ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m only curious about the man I’m dating.”
I chuckled. “You mean my past.”
“More about how he became an escort.”
And there we had it; the real meaning behind the question. “In high school—”
“High school?”
“I know, it was a long ass time ago. Just let me finish.”
“Okay, go on.” She stood and started to pour us both more drinks.
“I had a full ride for football to UCLA. I was going to turn pro, live happily ever after with her—you know, the American dream.”
“What happened?”
She slid me my drink and I took a sip. I sighed before continuing. “We were in love—at least I thought we were. I’m not so sure she loved me. Before the end of football season, she got pregnant—”
“Oh, wow,” she gasped.
I nodded. “Yeah, but you want to know what the bitch did?”
“What?” she whispered, a few of her fingers covering her mouth as if she already knew the answer.
I leaned back, closed my eyes and took a deep breath, calming myself so I could utter the words that continued to haunt me.
“It’s okay. You don’t need to tell me,” she said and grabbed my hands in hers.
“It happened a long time ago. It still hurts to think about it.”
She nodded.
“So yeah. She had an abortion which caused us to break up.” I stared at our woven hands for a few beats and then took a few gulps of my drink until it was almost empty.
“Let’s go to the living room.” She held up the Patrón bottle.
I grinned at her then stood. “Body shots on the couch?”
“You and your body shots.” She laughed then squealed the moment my hand smacked her ass.
“You and your body.” I picked her up, carried her to the couch, then placed her so she was straddling my lap, still holding the tequila bottle.
“You like my body.” She kissed me lightly.
“No, baby, I love your body.” I returned my mouth to hers, my hands working their way up her jean clad legs and then under the hem of her T-shirt. The moment my hands skimmed her bare skin, she pulled her mouth from mine.
“Don’t you want to know why I’m an escort, too?” she blurted.
“If you want to tell me.”
She took a big swig of the tequila and I chuckled. “My mother was a whore and she got me into the game.”
I stared at her. I wasn’t sure if she was serious, but she wasn’t smiling. “You’re serious?”
She nodded. “Yeah, and this’s why I don’t sleep with my clients. I’m not a whore like she is.”
Was this also why she hadn’t slept with me? It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her, but the way she’d chugged the tequila right before she’d told me indicated that maybe sex to her was something she waited to do. If she only knew how many clients and chicks I’d slept with … I was a whore.
“You know you mean a lot to me, right?”
“I know, love bug.”
I smiled. “Love bug?”
“Sugar lips?”
“Love bug is better.” I chuckled and kissed her lips.
“Is it time to watch a movie now?”
“We can do whatever you want, gorgeous.”
“I’m going to go put on my pajamas first.”
While she changed, I put on basketball shorts, then turned on the TV as I waited for her. When she came out, she was dressed in short pajama shorts and a spaghetti strap top—braless. I groaned the moment I saw her because she was going to be the death of me.
Braless titties.
Bare legs.
Hard dick.
I needed my cock to calm down but, of course, all I could think about was the way she smelled of coconuts. Finally, she picked a movie and cuddled against my side. I pulled her so we were spooning because my dick needed to be against her ass. I wanted her back to my front so I had easy access to play with her.
I couldn’t take the agony any longer. My hand slipped down the front of her body, searching. I eased up the front of her shirt to slip my hand in her shorts and she stopped me.
“It’s okay,” I whispered in her ear. “I’m gonna make you feel good, gorgeous.” She turned slightly, her eyes searched mine almost as though she was unsure. “Just relax.”
She stared at me for a beat and then smiled before she wiggled her hips against me. I nudge my dick against her firmly, causing her to moan and me to grind a little harder. “I fucking love hearing those noises from your mouth. I wanna hear more. Tell me I can make you come, gorgeous. I wanna hear my name leave your lips. I’ve been dying to taste you.”
My hand slipped farther into her shorts and she turned onto her back, lifting her ass and allowing me to pull them off. Her gaze met mine as I lifted her shirt off before moving my mouth to hers, my hand cupping and kneading her breast. She moaned again, my tongue slipping in at that moment, and our kiss deepened. Her body relaxed and after a few moments I worked my way down her body with my mouth.
I dragged my tongue from her lips down her neck to her tits where I kneaded one perfect globe in one hand and sucked the other erect nipple. Her back arched and another moan came from her mouth.
When I switched to the other nipple, I noticed the ink across her rib cage:
she always had a way
with her brokenness
she would take her pieces
and make them beautiful
I made a mental note to ask her about it later because I didn’t want to stop my path to her sweet spot. I trailed kisses and licked down her chest to her stomach, her hands finally fisted in my hair and I kissed lightly up her thigh, working my way to her pussy. Just as my hands touched her so I could spread her open and get my first taste, she slid up the couch and out of my grasp.
“I … I can’t do this. I’m sorry,” she quavered and took off out of the living room.
“Wait,” I called after her. “What do you mean?” I followed.
“I’m sorry. I thought I could, but I can’t.” She closed her bedroom door.
“Baby, what’s going on? Talk to me.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologized again. “It’s not going to work out.”
The hell it’s not!
I tried the handle of her door but it was locked. I didn’t give a shit. She couldn’t say this bullshit and get to lock herself in her room. I’d confessed to her about Vanessa. The least she could do was tell me what it was about me that was so repulsive we couldn’t even fuck. Without giving it another thought, I rammed my shoulder into the door and it popped opened. The lousy lock was no match for my size or my strength. She flinched as she stood next to the bed when I barged in.
“You don’t get to do this,” I declared.
“It’s not about you!” she hissed, tears streaking down her face. She was holding a piece of paper that was recently folded into fours.
“The hell it’s not!” I started to walk closer to her and she backed up, causing me to stop. “Are you scared of me?” She shook her head. “Then what is it? Why are you crying?”
She stared up at the ceiling for a beat then back to me. “If I told you my flaws would you still want to be with me?”
“Of course,” I admitted without needing to think about it.
“They’re really bad, Paul.”
“So we’re back to Paul now?”
She set the paper down on the bed and I saw that it was a drawing of a birthday cake—something a kid would have drawn and colored. She then crossed her arms over her chest and that’s when I realized she was dressed in her normal tank top she wore to bed—not the spaghetti strap thing she had on earlier.
“What I’m about to tell you, you can’t change. So don’t even think you can. It’s in the past. It’s done. Just like your past, I can’t change what happened with your high school girlfriend.” I nodded. “These things make us who we are today and yes, I’m dealing with shit and before you … Just … I’m okay if you don’t want to be with me anymore once you find out.”
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because my mom sold my virginity when I was seventeen and I haven’t had sex since!”
She fell to the floor, sobs coming from her throat. I rushed to her, scooping her up and carrying her to my room. “Shh, it’s okay,” I whispered, placing her in the center of my bed and wrapping her in my arms.
She cried until she fell asleep. I, on the other hand, didn’t get a wink of sleep. All I could think about was even though this woman next to me was broken, I didn’t care because I was certain I was falling in love with her.