“The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well.”
―Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
Dare
I was standing in my bathroom, scratching the underside of my jaw as I surveyed the utter lack of counter space left in my bathroom. Alice had been at my place for less than forty-eight hours—and frankly, she had fought me on the extra day—but I pleaded my case with my mouth between her legs, so that worked.
And I’m also guessing I made her feel comfortable enough for her to unfurl all the products in her arsenal.
“Babe, you barely wear any make-up,” I called out. “How is it possible you have this much shit?”
She was still in my bed, wrapped in a cocoon of sheets and blankets.
“Says the man who wakes up looking like something off a billboard.”
“I’m just saying, you don’t need all this crap.”
She mumbled something I couldn’t hear and may have shot me the bird before her hand snuck back under the covers. I shook my head and let out a soft laugh.
Every man bitches about all the stuff their girlfriends or wives keep around, but what the hell was the point of having space if not for your woman to feel at home? Besides, if a guy has a shit ton of crap for his hair or subscribes to a skin regimen, he needs to double check his man card. He was even more of a pussy if he acted like buying a box of tampons was the equivalent of getting his balls cut off.
That said, I wasn’t above giving her shit.
I finished up in the bathroom. “How is it possible there’s any hair left on your head?”
“Cute, but newsflash City—you’re barking up the wrong tree if you
waiting on me to agree with you.”
I kept going. I was having too much fun. “By the way, I cleaned out your brush. It was time to set that furry pet free.”
I saw one blue eye peeking from inside her long mane—and it looked angry. “And to think, I was all ready to give you a morning blow job. That is, until you sassed me.”
Ah shit. “Now, wait a sec,” I said, crawling back in bed. “Let’s not be hasty.”
“Nope, forget it,” she laughed, shaking her head. “It’s too bad, too, because I’m really good at it.”
I’ve had Alice in a variety of ways, but haven’t yet gotten to see that perfect mouth around my dick. Maybe because I couldn’t seem to get enough of her taste. I’d catch a hint of her scent, like a feral dog, and that was it—I needed my mouth in there.
“Actually, Ms. Leighton, I think this aforementioned promise of exceptional fellatio is a prime example of the kind of critical data points necessary for my case study notes, to be as useful as possible, in the name of science, of course.”
“Oh, of course,” she said, playing along. “That’s very considerate of you, Mr. Grangeworth, thinking of the best ways to benefit science.”
“I know. I’m a giver,” I said as I pulled her close, noticing she had on a tight tee and underwear. “Hey, didn’t we both fall asleep naked last night?”
She pushed her hair away from her face. “No, I waited until you fell asleep, then got some stuff out of my bag to put on.”
I squeeze that luscious ass of hers.
“Care to share why? I like having full access, Dixie.”
“I don’t like sleeping naked. Never have. Besides, it’s good for you to have to work for it,” she said, biting her bottom lip, looking up at me through those long lashes.
This woman is going to kill me.
“I don’t know about that. Feels like you’re creating unnecessary barriers towards intimacy. I’m going to have to write about this in my case study journal and process my emotions,” I teased. This was one of my new lines I liked to use, usually if I wasn’t getting my way.
“Yeah, I’ve got something for you to process,” she said, a wicked gleam in her eye before going back under the comforter. I was just about to protest, until I felt her hot, wet mouth wrap around me. That shut me right up.
“Mmm, I knew you’d taste good,” she said, continuing to hum as her lips and tongue worked my tip. I ripped the covers off because there was no way I was missing this show.
She crawled over and perched right between my legs, those cerulean eyes locked on mine as she worked her way down my shaft, one hand stroking in time with her mouth while the other lightly tickled my balls.
“Ah hell, that feels amazing,” I groaned, my eyes ready to roll to the back of my head, but not wanting to miss a second of her working me. My hips couldn’t help but thrust forward as she picked up speed, her hums vibrating up and down my spine.
“Fuck Dixie, that’s it. Suck me. Yeah, don’t be gentle. Yank it too.”
My head lulled back as I fisted the sheets.
But then I felt her squirm and I opened my eyes to see her hand reaching between her legs. Holy shit, that’s the hottest thing ever.
I let her play with herself for a few beats before I jackknifed up, grabbing her by the hips and pivoting her around, then moving her panties aside, so I had her sweetness in my mouth while she continue to suck and pull on my cock.
She wasn’t gentle with me and I sure wasn’t going easy on her. I savored her heat on my face, as I flicked her hard and fast with my tongue. She moaned and started grinding into my mouth as I held onto her ass. My girl was so wet and needy, and I was this close to coming down her throat. But I wanted her there with me. Gently, as I lapped her up, I worked a finger inside her puckered opening, using her arousal to ease my way in.
Her moans became wild, as I fucked her ass while she used my mouth to get herself off. I loved every second of it.
She was keening. “Holy shit, that’s it . . . yeah, fuck me hard. I can take it. I love it like that. That’s it, I’m going to come. I’m—I’m . . .”
Hearing her like that, using my mouth, made liquid fire shoot down my spine. Every muscle in my body tensed as I let it all go. There was an explosion of neon light and color behind my eyelids, blasting like fireworks and melting into a warm haze.
She took my release down her throat, cleaning me off with her tongue.
I could watch her do that all day.
Every time with Alice just kept getting better.
“I might have brain damage after that,” I said, catching my breath.
She smiled, her eyes closed, with her tits pressed into my stomach, giving me all her weight as I stroked her ass and the back of her legs. I loved everything about her body.
“I think you sucked the life out of me,” I said, my voice hoarse.
She chuckled, but didn’t move. “That’s only fair. I’m totally dead right now. It’s official. You killed me.”
“Death by orgasm?”
She looked up, but only one eye opened. “Death by the orgasm of my life. Jesus, Dare, that mouth of yours missed its calling.”
“Don’t even joke,” I said as I moved us so we were both laying on our sides, facing one another. “When I was first starting out, you have no idea how easy it could have been.”
“How easy what could have been?”
“To have sold myself while trying to sell my work,” I said, but seeing the concern in her eyes, I added, “Hey, it didn’t happen, so no worries. But it’s more common than you think.”
“I’m sure it is. This isn’t an easy city to survive in,” she sighed. “One minute I’m feeling ten feet tall and confident, and the next, like I’m almost invisible.”
“Do you miss it, the South?” I asked.
“It’ll always be part of me, but being anonymous is such a relief in a lot of ways, especially after living in a small town almost all my life. People would ask me how my mama was, slopping sugar all over, and then talk trash behind her back. I was afraid to do anything, for fear people would say, ‘like mama, like daughter’.
“Then I got to Chapel Hill and Chad and I were immediately a thing. He’s high cotton—that means he’s from a very wealthy Southern family. They all had a mind to grooming me into something above my raisin’. So, totally different circumstances, and yet, still living under a microscope.”
I was listening, my fingers making lazy circles on the curve of her hip. I liked listening to her talk, hearing her Southern lilt. I traced her tiny freckles. She had them in a smattering across her lower back and there were a few right along her hip, the ones I was enjoying now.
She watched my fingers. “I had a blind lover once, who told me those little raised freckles actually spelled out the word ‘freaky’ in Braille.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” I said. “Is that true?”
She nodded. “No,” she said with a straight face before cracking up.
“Are you shitting me?”
She rolled on her back, still laughing. “I had you there, for, like, a few seconds. Admit it!”
I tried to look pissed, but I couldn’t keep my game face straight. So, I tickled her until she screamed, and she was only saved by her alarm going off.
“Time for school, little one,” I said. “I know we showered last night, but—
“Yeah, we need another one,” she said, walking to the bathroom as I watched her gorgeous, full ass move towards the shower. She stopped, staring at the contraption, scrunching her nose.
“I have no idea how to turn this thing on,” she said, her frustration obvious. “I know I should be able to figure it out, but in my life I’ve never seen a shower this fancy. Even Chad’s people didn’t have something like this.”
I stroked her back. “Hey, stop being so hard on yourself. It took a guy three days just to get the shower heads right. That’s not including the rest that needed to get done,” I said, pointing to the buttons, sharing the sequence if she wanted to adjust. “But it’s also voice activated, so just tell it what you want. I’m thinking you’ll be good at bossing it around.”
She gave a pretend glare but then kissed me, letting out a sigh.
“Sorry, I was being silly.”
“You’re not being silly,” I reassured her. “I think the thing was designed by a former NASA engineer, so don’t take it personally.”
I pulled her under the water, pumped some of her shampoo into my hands and started washing her hair.
“I love having my hair washed,” she moaned, her head back, eye closed, letting me help her relax.
“Good,” I said, giving her a deep scalp massage, liking how she leaned into my touch. “You know, before I was a Grangeworth, I was a DeMarco,” I told her as I worked up the lather.
“That was your last name before?”
“Yeah, feels like another life,” I said. “Being a DeMarco was simpler in a lot of ways. I didn’t live large, but we always had plenty to eat and a roof over our head. My ma and I lived with my grandparents, who are still alive and both total pissers by the way.”
“Pissers?” she asked.
“Ball busters, but in a good way,” I said. “It’s a compliment in Brooklyn.” I rinsed her hair and proceeded with the conditioner.
I kept talking. “But everything I owned, until I was fifteen, was a hand-me-down. My kicks were off-brand because there was no way I was going to ask for the real thing when they killed themselves to send me to private school until I got into Bronx Science.
“Then suddenly, I’m a Grangeworth, and his widow—God bless her because it couldn’t have been easy—finds out about me and takes it upon herself to show me how the other half lives. To give me what her man should’ve done. But if you don’t think I wasn’t shitting bricks every time I sat at a dinner with ten friggin’ forks in my face, you’re wrong. Or when my career first took off, I had clients who would hand me the wine list and ask me to pick what I thought would go best with the sturgeon or whatever . . . do you get what I’m saying?”
I helped her rinse out the conditioner and started soaping myself up. She wiped the water out of her eyes and gave me a sweet little smile, nodding.
“I do. I hear you. Just an FYI, I can be really hard on myself.”
We’re going to work on that, as soon as I figure out how to stop doing the same thing.
I smiled as I watched her working that soap—and me—into a lather as she washed her thighs, in between her legs, taking extra time on her breasts. By the time I met her eye, I saw that impish gleam.
“You’re enjoying fucking with me, Dixie?”
“Oh, I am soooo enjoying fucking with you, City,” she said. “And if I didn’t have to meet with my advisor in about an hour, I’d fuck with you some more.”
We finished up, drying off. “What’s the rest of your day?” I asked.
She did that wrapping-turban thing with the towel around her head. “After I meet with my advisor, I have another sesh with Professor Inappropriate. Caroline is in love with your nickname for him, by the way. Then I have a lot of reading to get through. You?”
“I’ve got a solo show opening around the holidays. I’ll be ass-deep in that today. Plus, I need to have a quick meeting with Ingrid.”
“Everything okay?” she asked, her eyes tentative.
“Yeah, it’s standard stuff,” I lied. “She runs the studio spaces and the gallery downstairs.” Well, that part was true.
She blew out her hair, did what she did to be even more gorgeous while I threw on my standard jeans and a T-shirt, followed by making her coffee to take with her. I texted my driver and sparring partner, Omar (he’s a former light weight boxer), to be ready to take her to the university.
When I looked up, Alice was ready to go, with her small duffle by her feet. And she looked nervous.
“I don’t know how to say this, so I’ll just say it. I can’t stay here anymore.”