A Model Romance (True Love Book 3) (23 page)

Instead, I calmly take his hand, while breathing deeply, and guide him to the bedroom. Tonight, I want to take the lead. He softens his stance and silently relents to my unspoken, yet obvious, request.

I turn on one lamp, only to see the candle that I light. The scent of sulphur is quickly replaced by the sensual musk scent of the wax. I turn the lamp off, and the room glows with a calming aura.

“I’d like to try something, Wick. I’ve been doing some homework on Lingam massage.” His eyes light up as I say this. “Are you interested?”

I’ve been studying up on Kundalini yoga, and how to release the chakras. Tantric massage is a useful technique to help your partner relax and enjoy pure sexual release of energy, whether there is an orgasm or not. I wanted to surprise him, and now is an opportune time.

“I’m impressed, love. I would love nothing more than to check your homework, you know, to make sure your studying properly.” He looks as eager as a child on Christmas morning.

He lies down on the bed, head raised to watch, and a pillow under his hips. It hits me like a brick to the head that this may not be the first time he’s experienced this. What an idiot I am,
of course
he’s done this, no doubt with Pam. As I reach for the oil in my nightstand, I pause.

“What it is, Becca?”

“I’m sorry, Wick. This is all new to me, and I was so excited to show you what I’ve learned. But Pam’s done this to you, hasn’t she?” I feel a little sick asking this, but I have to be honest.

He seems ashamed.

“Yes, Becca, I can’t lie. She and I didn’t have the relationship that you and I do. It was only for experimentation, nothing more. This means so much more. Please don’t think about all that, it’s the past. Let’s focus on the here and now, the two of us together. Can you do that?”

I am so protective of him and our relationship, that it’s impossible to put these thoughts out of my mind completely. I
hate
that she knows him like this, but I know it was different. I do my best to brush it off.

“I’m fine, it’s OK. I’ll try to do better,” I whisper as seductively as possible, trying to get past my bitterness for her.

I pick up the bottle of scented oil purchased online for just this occasion from the top of my nightstand. He sees it, and looks impressed again.

“You’re really prepared, aren’t you? You amaze me, my sweet Rebecca.”

He leans forward for a loving kiss, and all is forgotten. It’s just him and me, and I kick all unwelcome thoughts away.

I settle into the space between his open legs, and sit cross-legged between them. The oil is light and smells heavenly. I forgot a towel, so I lay his undershirt beneath him. I slowly pour a generous helping of oil over his cock and balls. He hums with satisfaction. Trying to remember all that I read, I begin under his testicles.

I locate the small indentation between his anus and balls, and I press gently. He pushes back against my hand; it must feel pretty good. Using my other hand, I delicately begin to massage his sac, as I continue to apply pressure on the sweet spot. His cock rises to the occasion. The oil makes easy work of gliding my hands all around his testicles and pubic bone. I remove my other hand from the spot, and starting at the base of his shaft, I squeeze gently, and glide my hand up to the head. Using a twisting motion, I lower it back down. I stay in a constant rhythm, while continuing to massage his balls.

If he’s had this done to him before, you’d never know it. His reaction is exactly what I was hoping for. He looks delighted, impressed with my knowledge. I thought I would come across as a bumbling idiot since I’ve never tried this before, but I guess he approves of my self-taught method.

I continue this action for a while, until I feel his cock begin to twitch. I stop, allowing him to breathe through it. When I pick back up, I try something different. I return to pressing the sweet spot while stroking his shaft. That area is like the magic button, and his body involuntarily spasms as I apply pressure.

He approaches orgasm a few more times, but we take our time, knowing that it isn’t supposed to be the end result. If it happens, that’s OK, but the intention of the exercise is to be pleasure and control while trying to awaken the groin chakra. The pleasure can be turned back into the body or expressed through ejaculation, but either way it’s a wonderful way to connect with a partner.

I love watching his beautiful body react to my touch. His eyes are dark and glistening from pure pleasure. His body is like an all-you-can-eat buffet, and I can’t get enough.

He’s in an almost meditative state, having turned the sexual energy inward as he controls his orgasm. There’s one last thing I want to try. I apply more oil to my hands. With my right hand I stroke his cock, and with my left hand, I insert a finger on into his anus, about an inch. I crook my finger and locate the prostate. I massage it gently, and vary the speed and pressure. I return my right hand back to the sweet spot. From what I read, this is the main event. This combination is supposed to drive him wild, and I’m not disappointed.

He moans loudly, and calls my name in his sweet accent over and over again. I remove my finger, and before I can grasp his cock, he begins to have an explosive ejaculation. His abs are flexing tightly as are all the muscles in his legs. I see veins pulsating on his face, as he grinds his teeth together in the decadent indulgence of sweet bliss. His orgasm seems to last for a least a minute or longer. He gasps for air, as he comes down from a great high.

His chest rises and falls, he’s trying to regulate his breathing back to normal. I take the shirt from beneath him, and clean him up as best I can. I throw the shirt, and the extra pillow below him to the ground, and climb into the nook next to his body. He grasps me tightly, and hugs me to his chest. He kisses me on the head, and keeps his lips in place. I feel comforted and more than a little proud of myself. I was able to give him pleasure that he could control and relax in, without him doing all the work.

I’m incredibly aroused, but I feel satiated having watched his experience. I was the giver, not the taker, of the act and I liked it. This was more than just a hand-job. It was another way to deeply connect with the man I love, in a way that he’s comfortable with.

“I love you, Rebecca. So much …,” he whispers as he falls asleep.

* * *

Wednesday morning arrives all too quickly. I didn’t get to see Wick at all yesterday, and won’t again until Friday. My agent and I are at the airport by six a.m. These people are going to see one haggard-looking model. Thank God it’s for hair products and not wrinkle cream, or they’d fire me before they hire me.

It’s a productive couple of days. The company is a start-up, aiming at specialty high-end salons and retailers. They have a large amount of seed capital and are using it for a full-out media blitz. Glossy magazines, commercials, billboards: the works. They’re starting regionally, with plans to expand nationally within two to five years. It’s perfect for me. A few days of work every few weeks or so.

Wick’s been at the station the last few days, and I’ve spoken to him only once. We’ve texted a few times, too, but that’s it. I miss him terribly. I’m thankful that my days have been consumed with meetings, but he’s in the forefront of my thoughts. I’ve never come close to falling for someone this hard. I think of him, I dream of him, and I feel lost whenever I’m apart from him. When I close my eyes, I see his emerald beauties staring lovingly at me. I’m hopelessly gone.

Our flight is delayed by more than an hour, and we don’t land until late Friday evening. He sent me a text letting me know that he’d be waiting for me at my place when I got in. It makes every second I’m not there feel like an eternity.

Barry pulls in front of my place, and I barely wait for the car to come to a stop before I hop out. He yells at me, and I throw him a half-wave goodbye. The door is unlocked but it’s dark inside. I thought I saw Wick’s car, but maybe I was mistaken. I wasn’t really paying much attention to the parking lot.

I hear a light snoring as I turn on the lamp in the living room. He’s sound asleep on the couch, and there are roses in a vase in front of him on the coffee table. I want to pounce on him, he looks so adorable, but I let him rest. I know it’s been a long week for him, and I’m sure he’s been waiting here for a while.

I tiptoe to the bedroom to drop my bags. The phone in my purse buzzes, and I fumble to dig it out. Melanie has sent me a text. It’s unusual for her to be up; she’s usually asleep on the couch by nine.

Hi Bec, I hope all went well in St. Louis. Call me in the am. XO

Strange.

I wander around the room, so revved up from the trip and the anticipation of seeing Wick that I can’t seem to settle down. I turn on some quiet music and unpack my bag. As I lean over the suitcase, I feel strong arms surround me. He’s incredibly warm, and I feel every nerve in my body relax with his touch.

“I’m sorry for falling asleep, gorgeous. I wanted to greet you with open arms. Do you forgive me?” he asks in his sleepy, sexy-as-hell accent.

I answer with my body.

I turn around, and meet his face with mine in a deep kiss. His warm tongue tangles with mine, and the warmth radiates throughout my system. His hands clutch my face, and move to my hair. He removes the clip I have holding my thick twist, and my hair tumbles down around our faces. He buries his nose in it against my neck, and inhales.

“I like your scent, Miss Rebecca. This will do just fine …”

“I’m glad you like it; you’ll be smelling it a lot. It’s one of the many products I’ll be pushing.”

He digs his fingers into my scalp, and begins to massage it. I can’t imagine anything feeling better than this in this earthly world. We continue to kiss as he makes love to my head with his hands. A loud moan escapes my mouth, and he grunts.

“Ooh, what that sound does to me,” he whispers through our kiss and I melt.

He leisurely undresses me as our lips stay conjoined. He shuffles out of his pants, and yanks his sweater over his head. He folds back the comforter on the bed, and pulls me in with him. I think for certain we’ll make love, but we don’t. We kiss until we both fall asleep wrapped in each other’s grasp.

I wake to the sound of Wick cursing quietly when his leg hits the bed’s footboard. I know it hurts, but he looks so cute I can’t help but smile.

“I’m sorry to wake you, love. At least you look concerned for my well-being,” he says with sarcasm and a smile. “I have help my dad this morning with a project, but I’ll be back this afternoon. Can we have a nice dinner out tonight or would you rather stay in?”

I roll out of bed, stark naked, and roll my tongue up the side of his neck to his ear. I whisper, “What do you think?” and he shivers.

“You got it, love. Fuck the dinner,” he says as he looks down, and drinks in my nakedness. “This is really unfair, miss. I’m already a half-hour late from watching you sleep this morning. I couldn’t seem to tear myself away from your beautiful face.”

I like his parents, a lot, so I feel a pang of guilt making him late.

“I’m sorry. Call me later, OK?”

“No need for apologies. I’d happily stand here all day and commit you to memory like that.” He shakes his head as he continues to stare. “But I do have to run. I love you, Becca, I’ll call you later.”

With that, he’s out the door.

I throw on some sweats, and start a pot of coffee. It’s early, but I’m too wired now to go back to bed. I remembered the message from Mel last night, and I know she’ll be up early so I may as well call her.

“Hi, Mel, I knew you’d be awake. What’s up with that text last night?”

“Hi, Bec. How was your trip?”

“It was fine, thanks. Great potential for some steady work. Anyway, about your text.”

“Can you come over this morning? I’d rather talk to you in person.”

What the hell: Why is she being so evasive? It’s not like her.

“OK, sure. I’ll see you in a little while.”

I get to her house, and it’s quiet. It’s never this quiet on a Saturday morning. Someone must have died.

“What’s going on? Where are Brian and the kids?”

“They went out for donuts and Brian was going to take them to the zoo. He’s trying to spend as much time with them as he can before season workouts start back up.”

She’s not looking at me as she speaks. She’s shuffling around the living room, arranging and re-arranging pillows on the couch.

Nothing feels right about this.

“Cut the crap, Mel. What’s going on, you’re weirding me out.”

She looks up, and her expression worries me. She looks sad.

“Have a seat, Becca,” I obey as she continues to shuffle around.

“You have to sit, Melanie. I can’t follow you around the room it’s making me sick. You’re scaring me. What is going on?”

She finally sits down next to me.

“Well, Brian, Jason and some of the other players have been doing some off-season conditioning. Jason thinks it a good idea to keep Brian’s Achilles injury flexible, so he’s gotten Brian into all kinds of different activities. The other guys have seen the benefits, so they all go along with whatever Jason recommends,”

I’m trying my best to see how this will form into a story of magnitude, but I can’t.