Then There Was You (37 page)

It was a feeling I’d been denying for a while—a feeling I thought was wrong. But now, in this moment with him as he opened his heart and poured himself out to me, I realized it. “Me too,” I said softly.

We continued to make love in the candlelight, relishing every moment our bodies were united. We rocked and swayed against each other, kissing and caressing, heightening our excitement. The build-up of pleasure happened slowly. But, the moment of intensity had arrived… the moment that my feelings for Chris would literally shake my body to its core. The impending euphoria ebbed and flowed each time he rocked against me. My legs shuddered with every stimulating thrust. Tremors of my impending orgasm flittered with each release of pressure of his hips on mine. I pumped my hips harder and faster against him, panting and gasping. Clutching his sides, I pulled him toward me, unable to stop the locomotive of ecstasy that was about to blow through my center with powerful force.

“Oh, Chris,” I moaned quietly.

“That’s it, baby,” he panted, matching me thrust for thrust.

My lips reached for his, kissing him, eager for the last pump of his hips that would send me toppling over the edge.

“Oh yeah,” he groaned just as the final thrust between us momentarily caused both of us to lose our senses. A quick burst of pleasure was followed by a strong, blissful quaking that took my breath away. The look on Chris’s face and the shudder of his body proved that he was experiencing his own moment of delirium.

Chris laid his head in the crook of my neck, clinging to his satisfaction. Only the sound of our heaving breaths filled the air. I reveled in our peaceful indulgence, never feeling so close to anyone in my entire life.

Before long, we were both sleeping soundly in each other’s arms. I barely remember him brushing his lips across mine and whispering in the darkness, “Goodbye, sweetheart,” on his way out the door.

I awoke the next morning feeling a chasm in my heart that I couldn’t explain. I missed him so much already, and I knew that the hollowness I felt in my soul could only be filled by Chris.

The note he left on my pillow was a sweet reminder of the kind of man Chris was. I’d never felt so treasured.

Two long, painstaking weeks had passed. While Chris texted me every day just to say hi or tell me how much he missed me, too many days had passed since the night we’d spent together. I missed everything about him. His eyes. His smile. His laugh. His spine-tingling, musky scent. His arms wrapped around me. I quickly realized that one glorious night of deeply satisfying love-making wasn’t nearly enough. Every day I craved him more. I needed him. I yearned for him. With each passing day, the ache in my heart grew more unbearable while the pangs of my physical needs grew more insufferable.

He was in Phoenix, having just finished a show there.

“I miss you,” Chris said on the phone late that night.

“I miss you too.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we shared that amazing night at your house.”

The way the words ‘amazing night’ rolled off his tongue sent tremors of heat zinging through my body.

“Watching you enjoy the way I made you feel… That was so damn sexy. God, Salem, I just want to drive to your house and kiss the hell outta you right now.”

I imagined his lips on mine, soft and luscious. I craved the feeling of his body against mine. I wanted to rub my hands down his chest and across his rock hard abs. I lusted for the masculine scent of his cologne, enticing me with its cool, refreshing essence. I needed his arms around me, and the heat of his breath in my hair, on my lips, and across my skin.

An exquisite ache welled up inside me that was too hard to ignore. I rolled over on my belly and pressed my hips into the mattress, trying to assuage the delightful agony of my needs. The pressure of the mattress against me momentarily alleviated the twinge that centered in the crux of my thighs, but the moment I released the tension in my hips, a short burst of pleasure pulsated tenfold, instinctively causing me to thrust my hips into the mattress again. Each time I did so, my yearning for release grew stronger and stronger.

“I need you right now, Salem. I wish you were here so I could rub my hands all over your body, kissing and tasting every inch of you.”

“Chris,” I stammered. “I… I need…”

“I know what you need, baby,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, a sultry tone that awakened the kaleidoscope of butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

At that moment, I knew the mattress was no match against the fluttering quiver of my desire. I needed something else… something
more
. In the past year since I’d been divorced, I’d experienced a few mind-blowing orgasms in my sleep. I’d woken up several times in the past few months, sweating and panting, still relishing the tremors from deep within of the overwhelming climax I’d experienced in my dream. I’d never done anything like that while I was awake, alone, or better yet,
on purpose
. I wasn’t even sure I knew how. It just wasn’t something I’d ever had to do before.

The delicious craving that I felt needed a release or something… anything to pacify it. I slipped my hand down the front of my panties, and slid one finger across my swollen bundle of nerves, immediately jolting me with a gratifying pulse of pure bliss. The pressure of my finger hitting the sweet spot provided a burst of pleasure that radiated to my toes. That’s it, I thought, as I clenched my muscles in response and strained against the tension of my hand.

Chris whispered through the phone, “I’m so fucking hard right now, Salem. I can’t help it. All I can think about is your naked body pressed against mine, your soft skin as I kiss every inch of it. I want to touch every part of you. I want to make you feel so good, baby. Will you touch yourself for me?”

Oh crap!
I’m not sure I can go through with this. I pulled my hand out from under myself and flopped it out to the side, sighing into the phone.

“Go ahead, baby. Touch yourself.”

The minute he said it again, the white hot rush of my libido demanded satisfaction. I immediately slipped my hand back under the sheets and found the source that would relieve my burning appetite.

“I already am,” I whispered as I rocked harder and faster against my fingers, experiencing thrilling spasms of impending euphoria with every thrust.

“Oh god, Salem, that’s so fucking hot.” The panting sound of his voice drove me crazy with need. “Are you making yourself feel good right now?” he asked, his voice gravelly with desire.

I felt a little embarrassed and self-conscious, but I was too far gone. My moment of intensity was quickly approaching, and I couldn’t stop. The imminent surge of pleasure I knew I was about to experience kept me from caring anything about embarrassment. “Yes, so good,” I was breathless, panting as I glided my finger across my swollen nub, rubbing and circling in a repeated pattern. Over and over, I manipulated myself as the wave of my climax ebbed and flowed within me.

“Do it, baby. Make yourself come. I want to hear you.” The deep, sensual tone of his voice drove me wild, reminding me of the night he hovered over me, filling me, satisfying me.

I found myself closing my eyes, imagining a naked Chris in the bed with me. I imagined kissing him deeply, our tangled tongues delving for a deeper connection. I fantasized about him rocking his hips against me, driving me to the edge of ecstasy. I imagined the intense throb of his erection as he thrust himself into me.

Hearing his staggering breaths through the phone, I knew he was just as close to toppling over the pinnacle as I was. “That’s it, baby,” he moaned.

The sultry sound of his voice and the heaving sound of his breath as he reached the apex of his own pleasure was enough to push me over the edge. One final thrust of my fingers against my pulsating center sent me barreling over the cliff. A heavenly quaking of ecstasy surged through my body, followed by blissful, billowing shockwaves. The endorphins coursing through my body made me feel intoxicated, relaxed and content. I fell limp against my mattress, enjoying the moment of sublime tranquility.

A quiet sigh escaped my lips. I felt sure the sound of my satisfied moan sent Chris over the edge because he groaned in response, a deeply satisfied and exhilarating sound, followed peaceful, subdued breaths.

“That was amazing, Salem,” he breathed.

I stirred from my semi-lucid state. “Mmhmm.” It was all I could muster.

“Sleep well, baby,” he whispered.

I think I said goodnight. I wasn’t sure.

All I knew was that I woke up the next morning with my phone on my pillow. “Whoa. That was intense,” I whispered as I grabbed my phone and plugged it into its charger in a rush to get to the shower.

I was scrolling through posts on my favorite social networking website when a picture leapt off the screen and sucker-punched me in the gut.

The caption read:

Watch out, ladies! By the looks of it, Chris King is on the prowl!!!

I could have brushed it off if it weren’t for the picture of a half-naked girl on Chris’s lap with her tongue down his throat juxtaposed by pictures of them entering a hotel room together. My chest tightened, and my stomach clenched. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My brain couldn’t remember how to tell my lungs to inhale. I felt dizzy.

What? Why?

I immediately slammed my laptop closed, staring at the wall. Numb.

I should have known better. I knew the lifestyle he led. I knew that every girl was vying for an opportunity to pounce on him. His endless access to alcohol and drugs…
Dammit… I knew better!

The heat of my anger shot through me like a rocket launching into orbit. Sucking a breath, my nostrils flared and my chest tightened.
How could I have been so stupid?!

Chris called later that night. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, the sound of his voice nearly caused me to lose my nerve.

Strengthening my resolve, I chose to skip the charades. My voice was hoarse from all the crying I’d done all day. “Tell me what the pictures didn’t say.”

There was a hesitation in his voice before he spoke. “Salem, I… I don’t know what you’re—”

“Chris, tell me what the pictures didn’t say,” I demanded, praying for an explanation, anything other than the obvious.