Come Alive

Page 9

And Perry and I? Well, the alcohol and the whole “we are now a couple” speech swirled around to make our own personal concoction of lust and longing. I tried to behave myself, I really did, but my tongue was down her throat, my hands were down her pants, and I was one soft moan away from blowing my load all over Janet’s shoes. Okay, well in my defense, “behaving myself” meant I wasn’t undressing Perry in public, though that was starting to become an option.

I kissed down her neck, biting along the way and murmured, “Remember what we tried to do in the elevator?”

“I have a vague recollection,” she said, her voice all airy and enthralled. Such a turn-on.

“How about you go to the ladies’ washroom and I meet you there in a minute. It has a lock on the door, right?”

She placed her hand on my chest and pushed me back to look me in the eye. “Are you serious? The women’s washroom?”

“Baby, I’m always serious when it comes to getting you off. You should know this by now.” I pulled her to me and sucked hard on her delicate earlobe. “Besides, I can feel how wet you are. Would be a real shame to waste that.” I pressed my fingers into her until she twitched.

She straightened up in her seat and brushed her hair back, gathering it at the nape of her neck, her eyes searching the table and bar to see if anyone was paying attention to our antics. No one was. Satisfied, she gave me a loaded look and then walked off to the washrooms. Hot damn. Hate to have you go but love to watch you leave.

I finished the rest of my drink, waiting a few beats, kinda hoping that someone would notice what we were about to do, but no one did. Dean and Justin were now talking to Janet about something heated, and Rebecca was passed out on the table. We’d have to take her home soon, but I knew we wouldn’t be in the bathroom all that long, not at the rate I was jacked up.

I got up and moved through the crowd to the washrooms. There was no line outside the women’s, which was good, only problem was there were two of them and I didn’t know which one Perry was in. I knocked on the first door, just a quick rap, and heard someone yell, “Occupied!” as if her life depended on it. Sheesh, women were uptight about pissing.

I went to the next one, knocked softly and said, “Perry?” and it opened a crack, showing just half of her face. She looked so damn nervous and shy that I pushed the rest of the door open and went inside, quickly locking the door behind me. The need to drive my cock inside her suddenly overpowered me, and I grabbed her face, kissing her hard, my hands moving down into her hair, down her back to her ass where I got a good meaty hold and squeezed hard. She let out a cry of pain, but it was good pain from the way she attacked me, hands, lips, teeth, everywhere.

I quickly pulled her leggings and thong off, and then whirled her around and pinned her up against the wall. She wrapped her bare legs around my waist and held me close to her as I fumbled with my fly. Once my cock was free, my jeans dropping to my ankles, I wasted no time in guiding the tip into her, just teasing her cleft with her own wetness.

“Fuck me, Dex,” she cried out, her head back, her hips trying to thrust closer, to get purchase. Her nails dug into my back.

“Tell me how much you want it,” I groaned, feeling her expanding for my tip, so needy.

“I want it, I want you. I need you inside me.”

Oh god, please keep talking, I thought. My heart was competing now with my dick.

“Tell me how much.”

“So much. Please, I need you inside me, please thrust inside me, please.”

Her cries were my undoing. I thrust into her, feeling her expand around me, so slick, so tight, so, so beautiful. It was a space meant for me, only for me, a place I’d spent my life looking for, a home inside a woman who was my home. There was no place I’d rather be. Fuck.

I started off slow, relaxing into the rhythm, trying to hold myself in check. She felt so good and I started rubbing her clit to ensure I felt the same way for her. She started panting, squirming, wanting more.

“Harder,” she pleaded. “Take me harder.”

I licked her neck. “Aren’t you a demanding one.” I kept going slow and steady, not ready to give her everything just yet. I was amazed I was able to hold her up like this, and when I pulled my head away I noticed she was watching my clenching ass in the bathroom mirror as I pushed into her.

“Do you like what you see?” I whispered, delighting in the primal lust in her glazed eyes. “Those muscles are all for you. I was born to fuck you, baby.”

I thrust into her deeper, faster, finally giving us what we both wanted. She held me tighter, dug her nails in harder, bit down on my shoulder as I pounded her, keeping my fingers quick and steady. Her legs began to loosen as she approached climax.

“That’s my girl, that’s my girl, that’s my girl,” I grunted as the pressure reached the breaking point. Everything tightened before the damn was unleashed and I poured into her, wanting my seed to go further, to implant itself somewhere deep inside her where a part of me would never, ever leave.

She cried out as she came, whimpering, moaning, then tried to muffle it once she realized where we were. I couldn’t care less. I wanted the whole bar to know.

I breathed into the hollow of her neck, swimming in her smell, the feeling of her as she came for me, the sweetness of vulnerability in the moments after. This was heaven, this was priceless, this was everything.

“Wow,” she said, catching her breath. Her legs started shaking around me, tired from the strain. I grabbed hold of her thighs and gently pried her off of me, lowering her. “Wow.”

“Now you can cross that off your list,” I told her, handing over her leggings and pulling up my jeans.

She put them on and looked herself over in the mirror, her face flush, her hair messed. “What else is on this list of yours?”

“You’ll find out,” I said, “and you’ll like it.”

Even though we were a bit disheveled, I unlocked the door and opened it, expecting to see an impatient woman on the other side of it, waiting for the bathroom.

I was right. But it wasn’t any woman. It was Jenn.

“Whoops, sorry to keep you waiting,” I said to her with a shit-eating grin.

Jenn’s jaw dropped as she looked at us both. I looked down at Perry, wondering if she was going to bolt or be embarrassed. But Perry had time to recover from the first meeting, she was high on orgasm endorphins, and the steady look on her face told me she hadn’t forgotten who Miss Anonymous was. This was her moment. This was her payback.

She smiled at Jenn, all confidence with a hint of smugness. “So sorry about Bradley.” She reached over and tapped Jenn’s shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry, you’ll meet someone one day. Just keep on truckin’.”

Then she walked away, head held high, hair still messy from sex. I waggled my brows at Jenn and hurried on after her. My woman was changing before my eyes and I was loving it.


The next morning Perry and I both felt like death. I don’t know what it is about draft beer, but it gets you every damn time. Well, draft beer and copious amounts of Jack Daniels and Irish whiskey.

We woke up around ten when Fat Rabbit demanded to be walked or he’d piss all over the house, and because it was my dog and I was a gentleman, I got up and took him for a quick walk in just striped pajama pants and a stained white tee, ignoring the nipple-tweaking wind. The fresh morning air did perk me up and when I got back inside, and I told Perry, who was still huddled under the covers and craving grease and water, that I’d be taking her out on her second date: Pike Place Market.

Yes, it’s the quintessential tourist trap of Seattle, but fuck if the market didn’t have good shit. Besides, now that we were living together and Perry wasn’t moving out, we needed to get some good grub for the place. We couldn’t survive on my famous macaroni and hot dogs forever.

It took a little coaxing to get her out of bed, even after making her bacon and eggs, but soon we were heading out the door and walking down the street toward the water. I grabbed her hand, already cold from the wind that wouldn’t quite latch on to Spring, and held it tight. This was nice. This was right.

“So what do you think Jimmy is going to say?” she asked as we turned left onto First Avenue.

“I really don’t know,” I admitted. “Are you nervous?”

“Kind of. What if he cancels the show?”

I took in a deep breath. I’d been trying not to think about it for the last twenty-four hours. After Perry quit the show, I was a complete and utter Cheetos-covered mess. That was due to her absence, of course, but I think not having the show messed me up a bit too. Like her, it had given me a new purpose, and a life without the show seemed odd and meandering.

“I know I was hesitant about getting you back on the show,” I told her, “but I was more concerned about your safety than anything else.”

“I suppose you had a right to be,” she said under her breath. She cleared her throat. “That…beast was…”

Yeah. That was bad judgement for both of us, thinking that Sasquatch wasn’t real. We should have known better than that.

“But even so,” I went on, “I do like doing the show with you. I feel like it’s something that makes sense of who we are and what we see. It gives meaning in a way…I just wonder if maybe there’s a better way of doing this. Not ghost hunting but…well, I don’t know, this sound ridiculous, but maybe there is something to ghost whispering. We’ve already confirmed that you have the breasts for it.”

She smacked my chest. “I’m more than my boobs.”

“Yes you are, but they certainly help,” I said. “But I’m serious too. If Jimmy does cancel the show, maybe there is something else we can do—together—to make sense of what we have. I don’t think we need him like he wants us to believe we do.”

“But a sponsor would make things so much easier. I could actually bring in an income that counts.”

“Hey, kiddo, you know you don’t have to worry about that stuff with me.”

She stopped in her tracks, pulling me back a bit. Her expression was grave. “Dex, earning an income is important to me. I know you have your inheritance, how else could you afford a new Highlander and a nice apartment, but that doesn’t mean I want to be taken care of.”

“It bothers you, huh?” I asked.

She nodded. “Well, yeah. My parents always treated me like a freeloader and I just don’t want you to think I am too.”

I played with her hand. “Perry, I don’t think that of you at all. I want to take care of you. I’ve never been able to take care of anyone in my whole life. I’m more than happy to do it.”

She seemed to consider that. I pulled gently at her. “Come on, let’s go get some fish thrown at you.”

I led her down the road until it turned to brick. We ducked into the market, and despite it being a weekday and off-season, it was still packed full of people. Luckily they were locals who didn’t gawk and shuffle along like they’d never seen fresh food before. We pressed past vendors selling jewelry, farmers with their rows of green vegetables, a woman yelling at us to buy chocolate fettuccini. Perry looked adorably wide-eyed, and once we got to the main attraction—the fish people—I got one of them to toss a salmon right at her. To her credit, she actually caught it and instinctively tossed it to someone else. They didn’t work at the market but it was still pretty impressive.

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