Waking Up With You (19 page)

My eyes slowly flicker in the dark. I feel Jake gently squeezing my breast and pressing into my behind with his erection. His left leg pins me. I’m still sore from last night, but my body instinctively responds the only way it can. I turn around and move my hand across his entire length. He takes my mouth with such heat that I start to feel the familiar build-up between my legs. He goes down and blows softly on my breasts, making me gasp loudly. He inches his way to my navel, licking my belly. I urge his head to make its way further down.

He sets my knees apart and then looks up, his eyes full of desire. He nibbles my thighs and I start to move my hips. He buries his face in my sex and licks with increasing pressure and speed. I unconsciously lift my pelvis as his finger penetrates me. “Stop,” I whimper, but he pays me no heed. I am now in a sea of sensation as his mouth and hands work in long, thick strokes to give me pleasure. My vision goes blurry and my body starts to tingle. Then my thighs begin to quiver with exquisite feeling.

Without warning, he puts a finger into my mouth and I suck on it deeply. He positions himself between my legs, sliding himself into my wet heat. “I can’t get enough of you,” he says thickly. He eases in further and further until his full girth penetrates me. My legs wrap around his back and he moves faster and faster until he takes me decisively to the edge. I bury my face into his shoulder so that my cries are muted, as every ounce of energy is sucked from my being.

Room service delivers a cart laden with food. I’m famished, and I may have said yes to everything the woman on the other end of the phone was recommending. I’m dressed in my gown, though it’s zipped only halfway. My hair is in disarray. Jake, meanwhile, is looking cool and dashing in his tux from last night.

“Are we expecting guests?” he asks with amusement.

“I got carried away,” I say apologetically, half biting my lip.

“I actually like that,” he murmurs.

“That I get carried away?” I inquire.

“Yes, and that you bite your lips in a delectable way,” he finishes.

I feel shy around him again, even after we’ve repeatedly made love. I don’t remember how many times and in how many ways. I am sated and tired. I just want to eat and rest again. He, however, shows no wear and tear.

“I start removing the stainless steel plate covers and put a morsel of bread in my mouth. I eat the sausage with a fork and become aware of Jake looking at me. I realize what’s going through his head and I blush a bright red. He smiles briefly, and I throw a piece of bread in his direction.

“Do you have anything planned for today?” I ask.

“No, the office is closed until the fourth of January,” he says. “Were you thinking of something special?”

“Nothing special. Just wanted to spend the rest of the day with you.”

“So there’s nothing special about spending the day with me. I’m crushed,” he jests.

“Oh, you know what I mean.” I pretend to pout.

“What would you like to do?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know. Any ideas?” I take a sip of the orange juice and eat a mouthful of eggs and bacon.

“Spend a lazy day in bed?” His eyes are twinkling. “To catch up on lost sleep,” he continues.

“I was thinking of that, too, but now I want to take advantage of the weather.” I retort.

“What if we take it easy today? Let’s go home to dress up, and then we can go on a short trip somewhere,” I suggest.

“Where to?”

“Uhm…Solvang?”

“Alright. On one condition.” I give him a quizzical look.

“We’ll drop by one or two wineries on the way back, and you drive if I do some wine tasting.”

“Seriously? Drive your BMW? Why on earth would I say no to that?” I say with a giggle.

“Then it’s settled.”

I start to put on my heels when my dress gapes open. Embarrassed, I try to fasten the zip, but Jake comes closer. His eyes are scorching and I know we won’t be leaving just yet. He grabs my hand to touch his crotch through the fabric of his pants and I unzip him hungrily so I can release him from his constraint.

Solvang is about a two-hour drive from our residence. The 101 is surprisingly free of traffic, and we have a smooth drive all the way to the start of the Santa Ynez Valley where a minor collision has taken place.

“Let’s take the 154 and pass by Cachuma Lake,” I urge him.

“We should have gone fishing instead,” he replies.

“You go fishing?”

“Sure. Charlie and I went trout fishing at Big Bear a couple of times.”

“Frankly, I’m shocked. Charlie was the outdoorsy type, but you look like you wouldn’t know how to attach a worm to your hook, “ I scoff.

“I’ll have you know that I once caught a fifty pound kingfish in San Luis Obispo.”

“Sure you did.” I roll my eyes in response.

“You don’t believe me?” He’s roaring with laughter. “Okay, so it was more like ten pounds and Charlie reeled it in.”

We stop for half an hour at the recreation area and just take in the pastoral view.

My stomach starts to rumble. “Hear that gurgling sound?” I ask, pointing to my tummy, which is peeking from my top. “I definitely need to eat.”

“You always need to eat, and that’s why I’m amazed you’re so skinny.”

“Thanks, I think. I have a distinct craving for late lunch, so we should get going.”

The hostess ushers us through the crowded café to a small table at the corner.

“Would you like a few minutes?” the red-headed, leggy server in a Danish costume tentatively inquires.

“Nope. I’m ready. I know what I want,” I reply. “A Belgian waffle with berries on the side, a club sandwich with French fries. Oh, and lots of barbecue sauce, please.” The server nods briefly and then turns to Jake, giving him an extra bright smile.

“And I’ll have the cheese blintz and some coffee, please,” he adds. The server sashays to the kitchen, trying to give Jake ample opportunity to check her backside, but he seems to be distracted by the blue and white tiles.

“This coffee shop is practically an institution. Hardly anyone goes to Solvang without going in for brunch. I’ve been here a couple of times with Charlie. Paige, too,” I say. “God, it’s half past two,” I say, looking at Charlie’s watch on my wrist. “And people still keep coming in, just half an hour before the place closes. Everyone loves this café.”

“The interiors are very traditional Danish porcelain,” he observes. Then, he abruptly changes the topic by asking, “So, what shall we do after this?”

“Jake, you have to learn to relax. We haven’t even eaten yet and you’re already writing our itinerary.” I mockingly shake my head. “Tsk, tsk.”

“That’s precisely why it’s called an itinerary. It’s a plan.”

“I know, but I just want to do whatever appeals to us when we start strolling around.”

“I’m not happy when there are no boxes to tick off,” he jokes.

“Just this once, play it by ear.”

He gives a sigh of surrender. When the food is served, we busy ourselves with the meal and chat sporadically about Scandinavian culture. By the time we leave the café, we’re glad to be out in the sun, taking a leisurely walk.

I see the trolley and carriage. “Can we go for a ride, pretty please?” I fold my hands in supplication and bat my eyelashes at him.”

“So we’re doing the tourist routine now?” he asks dryly. I vigorously nod my head like a child.

The tour lasts twenty-five minutes. The guide is a twenty-year-old who seems like she would rather be doing something else. She gives out some historical nuggets of information and during the lull moments is busy trying to make eye contact with Jake. She gave him the once-over when he climbed up the step into the carriage and, most likely, found him highly attractive. I glare at the guide.
Seriously!

Our last stop is an ice cream parlor. As we dismount from the trolley, I go to the horses and brush the hair of one horse, nuzzling against it. Jake watches me lovingly pat the animals. I think he’s disconcerted at how young I look with my thick hair in a ponytail and dressed in a pink top, white high-rise shorts, a light sweater, and sneakers.

“Ice cream cone?” he asks. I readily agree and we enter the ice cream store. It may be December but I give in to the temptation.

“A scoop of chocolate for me, please,” I order. “You’re having the same.” I declare to Jake and he inclines his head. He casually takes my hand as we stroll out the door, and we walk that way for some time.

We browse through the many small stores selling souvenirs and other items. One of them has a dizzying array of expensive musical boxes, and I stop to wind and listen to one or two of them. Jake quietly observes me. I go around the store and examine all the kitschy stuff for sale. There are tons of magnets, keychains, t-shirts, posters, and other items. As we step out of the store, Jake hands me a shopping bag.

I give him a questioning look and then open the bag to find a box. Inside is a Sorrento musical box with fleur de lis inlay. I carefully lift the lid and Mozart’s Eine kleine Nachtmusik plays. My eyes widen in delight and I smile gleefully at Jake in gratitude. “Thank you, Jake. You shouldn’t have. I was just admiring it, but I never thought you would…” I stammer, unable to complete my sentence. I see the price at the bottom of the box. ‘It’s a thousand dollars! Why would you spend that much?”

He puts his right hand on my shoulder to stop me from talking further. “I want you to have it. Period.” He says no more, so I choose to accept it with grace. “Thank you,” I repeat, while staring at him from underneath my lashes. On an impulse, I tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek and he silently wraps his arms around me, kissing the top of my head. His action is so tender that I’m speechless for a few seconds.

I then carefully put back the piece into its box, turn to him and ask, “Where to next?”, trying not to show how touched I am.

“In the mood for fairy tales?” he asks and, for a moment, I think he’s referring to romance. I give him a blank look and he responds, “I mean the Hans Christian Andersen museum.”

“Oh… nah, let’s skip that. I’ve gone there several times before. Paige and I once stayed there for an hour and explored everything, including the replicas of his father’s shoemaking tools.”

“How about more cute horses?” His smile is so captivating that I literally stare at his face for some time.

“Em?”

“Cute horses?”

“The Quicksilver Ranch.”

“Oh, of course. Let’s go back to the car and store my precious musical box. Then, we can drive off to the ranch,” I suggest.

The ranch has fine thoroughbred horses, but it’s known for its small, show-quality miniature ones. There are about thirty of the cutest miniatures when we stop by to visit. The old caretaker gives me a brush and I choose the pure white mini-pony a few feet from where I stand. I lovingly brush its fur while talking to it in a soft voice.

“Isn’t it adorable?” I ask Jake. I turn to the horse and babble, “Yes you are, yes you are. I want to put you in my pocket.”

Jake laughs at the way I’m engaging the animal. “Sorry, Em, but this is definitely too big to bring home,” he tells me.

“Oh, Jake, I know you wouldn’t want anything to ruin your pristine, glass-and-steel house.”

“That hurts,” he pretends to clutch his heart. “Are you implying that I’m cold and heartless?”

“How did you get cold and heartless from glass-and-steel?” I snidely ask.

In response, he tugs my ponytail and runs while I begin to chase him. I catch up with him and jokingly push him backward. We erupt into gales of laughter and slowly sink to the ground. After we stop laughing, Jake stands up and extends his hand to me so he can pull me up. I go back to the pony, brush its fur once more. Half an hour passes and I say, “Goodbye, little one.”

As we drive to the exit, Jake says, “I fear I’ve just had an overload of cuteness.”

I reply, “Yes, Jake, I get it.” My voice becomes low and husky and I say, “Would you prefer seductive and sexy instead?”

“Let’s go home right now,” he says for an answer.

“No more wine tasting?” I ask, knowing what his response will be.

“I’d rather taste you,” he looks directly into my eyes and my insides tense with expectation.

“I won’t be long,” I promise Jake as I go to take a shower.

“You’d better not be, or I’m joining you in there,” he warns.

I’m in his bathroom, and everything is unfamiliar to me. I wrap myself in a bath towel so I can get my own shampoo from my bathroom. I slowly open the door and see him seated on the edge of the bed, his back turned to me. He looks inside the drawer of the bedside table and reaches for a black velvet case. Inside is a breathtaking necklace of brilliant diamonds set in platinum. I carefully shut the door so he won’t know I’ve discovered his secret.

My hair is still a little wet as I enter the room, wrapped in a towel. Jake is at his desk, clothed only in his boxers. I curve my hands around his neck and he responds by parting my lips with his tongue. He reaches under the towel to glory in my nudity. He pulls me into his lap and I straddle him freely. My towel comes undone and he cups my breast, alternately licking and biting. I rub myself against him, rocking back and forth, and his expression is one of pure lustful enjoyment. He whispers something into my ear and I nod, my body feverish with longing. He pulls down his boxers and impales me. I begin to ride him. I move up and down, and he meets me with his thrusts. He goes deeper as he gets even harder. I’m trembling and so close to losing control. As he sucks my nipples, white hot pleasure spreads to every part of my body. He nips my neck as release floods him, and we hang on to each other in blissful exhaustion.

We sleep all night long, our bodies entwined. As early morning daylight seeps through, I feel his hand slide up and down my thighs. Then his fingers reach down there and start playing with me. “You’re wet,” he whispers, as he continues to invade my core.

“Take me now,” I simply say, and I welcome his body as he gets on top of me. He slams into me furiously, over and over again. This time we both crave the hurried pace. We tear into each other in uncontrollable hunger until our rapid movements bring us to the point of explosion, where we are unable to move, speak, or think.