Wanderlust (18 page)
Authors: Thea Dawson
Monica
Leaning toward me again, he took me in his arms and kissed me. A real kiss, deep and passionate.
“You still smell the same,” I whispered when we broke apart a few moments later. I felt his lips on my earlobe.
“And you’re just as beautiful,” he answered, his voice hoarse.
I ran my hands up and down his muscular arms, the way I used to back in college. “You must work out a lot,” I murmured.
He chuckled. “I haven’t had much else to do since I moved here. Now I’m probably going to get all soft.”
“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” I whispered.
“I bet you will,” he said in a low voice.
I felt him push back the collar of my fluffy robe as his lips made their way down my neck and to my collarbone. I closed my eyes, tilted my head back and leaned back on my arms. He untied my belt and pushed the robe off my shoulders. I shivered in anticipation.
“You’re getting cold. Let’s get you under the covers.”
I wasn’t cold at all, but I was only too happy to comply. I snuggled under the covers again while he pulled off his t-shirt and he stretched out next to me. Even though we’d spent the night cuddled up against one another, this was different. I ran my hands over his bare shoulders, feeling giddy with an electric mixture of nerves and lust.
Then his mouth was on mine again, and I was losing myself in a sea of desire. I felt his hand slip under the hem of my tank top and begin tugging it up. I wriggled out of it with his help.
He rolled on top of me and began kissing his way down my neck to my chest. I could feel his desire pressed against me.
“Soft isn’t going to be a problem, is it?” I said with a smile that turned into a gasp as his lips reached my breast.
“Not a problem at all,” he growled gently, reaching for the waistband of my pajamas. He sat up and pulled them, along with my panties down and off, then paused to admire me. I squirmed slightly, blushing a little under his scrutiny but anxious to move things along.
“Easy, Lefty,” he whispered. “We’ve got time.”
He ran his finger over my lips. I nipped at it, drawing it into my mouth and sucking it. He withdrew it and ran it down my neck, across my collarbone and down to my breasts. He leaned down and placed his mouth over one nipple, his tongue circling it firmly. I felt the heat begin to grow in my belly and a melting sensation between my legs. I squirmed some more.
I didn’t want to stop but I had to say something. “I’m not, um, on the pill or anything,” I mumbled.
He grinned at me, reached under the pillow and pulled out a condom. “I sort of raided Stephen’s bathroom. Just in case.”
I blushed, wondering if Stephen would notice and how badly he’d tease me if he did—but I wasn’t going to worry about it now.
The sound of the foil tearing sent little shivers of anticipation through me. He quickly shucked off his boxers and put it on, but to my delight, he moved downward between my legs. I smiled in anticipation. He’d been there before and I knew what he could do.
He began by kissing the insides of my thighs, holding them firmly apart, accidentally-on-purpose letting his thumbs graze my slippery folds. I gave a long, low
“Hmmmm”
of pleasure.
He ran a finger down my clit and I gasped. He continued to stroke it with just enough pressure to drive me wild but not enough to bring my any release. I wriggled and moaned quietly. He gently circled my opening with a finger then gently pushed his finger inside me. I moaned a little louder.
After a few agonizingly slow thrusts, he withdrew his finger; I squirmed with frustration. He began moving his finger in a circular motion. I caught my breath.
I was gasping in a regular rhythm now, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps as the liquid heat began to build in my belly.
He began to thrust harder and deeper with his finger, increasing the pressure on with his mouth.
It was too soon. I wanted him inside me. “Don’t!” I panted “Not yet—”
But he gripped my bottom harder with his free hand, holding me in place, and moved his tongue even faster and harder. The pressure deep within me built to a head and peaked. I grasped at the sheets, the pillows, fighting the urge to shout in case I woke up everyone in the apartment building. I moaned instead, shuddering as the ecstatic waves washed over me.
Before I had completely stopped shaking, he was on top of me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and brought my lips to his. He entered me gently and, as if sensing how wound up I still was, he moved slowly, kissing my lips and throat tenderly, letting me adjust to his weight and rhythm. I did not expect to have another orgasm—the first one had been more than enough—but as he moved above me, desire began to bloom again, and I started to move with him, each thrust hitting the sweet spot between my legs with slightly more force.
“Oh, Lefty,” he whispered, “I have missed you so much.”
I kissed his neck, inhaling his scent, running my fingers through his dark hair, admiring his skin, his shoulders, his eyes, his everything. Unbelievably, the pressure was building again. The first time had been wild and intense; this time was sweet and gentle but fueled with its own kind of power. The sweetness grew and swelled until it burst over me like a sudden rain shower. I gasped and tightened my arms around him. I felt my walls contract around him. His thrusts became stronger and quicker. I shuddered with pleasure at the same time that he let out a long, low moan of satisfaction and lowered himself into my arms.
For long time, we lay snuggled up against the back of the couch, staring out at Chicago. For the first time, it occurred to me what a beautiful city it was. Outside, the snow continued to fall in thick, heavy flakes against the backdrop of the skyline.
“It’s a frogstrangler out there,” he finally said.
I laughed. “Frogstranglers are rainstorms.”
“Darn,” he answered in mock disappointment.
“But you never know,” I shrugged. “The weather could change any minute.”
He looked at me and smiled. “It’s already changed,” he answered.
One year later
Sunlight is just creeping into the hotel room when I wake up, Monica still asleep beside me. I gently kiss her bare shoulder, trying not to wake her, but unable to keep from touching her entirely, and I think back over the incredible year that we’ve spent together.
We spent last Valentine’s Day on the longest flight I’d ever been on, all the longer because I’d have preferred to spend the time making out with Monica—but you can only get away with so much in economy class.
Southeast Asia was an adjustment for both of us; for me because everything was new and different—and hot—and for Monica because she had to put up with all my questions and excitement. But eventually, we settled into a rhythm. We traveled from place to place and saw amazing things, but we also worked hard.
Monica completed her assignment for her publisher, and we’ve put a lot of work into her travel business. Since we hit the road, Adventuress Travel has grown by leaps and bounds, almost faster than we could keep up with. We’ve attracted hundreds of new followers, and we’re about to launch our first guided tour. We finally had to hire a virtual assistant when Monica signed a deal to write a book of her own, half travel guide, half inspirational life advice for women traveling by themselves. Monica’s the face of the business, but I pull my weight in marketing and tech support. We make a good team.
About three months into our travels, I officially launched my own business, On the Road Marketing. After putting a lot of work into both Silver Basin and Monica’s business—and seeing them both flourish—I was able to find a niche among other women business owners, and I’m happy to say I’ve now helped many small companies grow and prosper around the world.
A few months ago, we met a British couple in Kuala Lumpur who were traveling around the world with their two children, while they worked their location-independent jobs, she as a fiction writer, he as a financial consultant. It gave me a glimpse into life on the road with kids, and I liked the look of it. We’re not quite there yet ourselves, but my concept of travel gets bigger every day.
More and more, I believe that we really can have it all.
We were in Southeast Asia almost six months before we went back to the Midwest for Lauren’s wedding, where Monica’s family welcomed us back with open arms. Monica wore her Manolo Blahniks with her bridesmaid’s dress, and looked as beautiful as I’d ever seen her. We took it easy for a few weeks, then Monica decided I was ready for India, and off we went again.
A year to the day that we took the ring off her finger, I put another one on. We were married on a beach in Goa at sunrise, just the two of us and an accommodating American missionary, who was kind enough to perform the ceremony.
A few days later, we flew first-class to our next destination.
Neither of us had forgotten that eleven years ago, I’d promised to take her to Paris on our honeymoon. Now Monica turns to me in bed and smiles sleepily. The lace curtains over the hotel window are pulled back just enough for me to glimpse the Eiffel Tower against the barely light sky. It’s going to be a beautiful day.
About the Author
Thea Dawson has lived in Rome, Tokyo and London and spent much of her twenties traveling around some of the more exotic corners of the globe. She was finally talked into settling down when her boyfriend proposed to her in Angkor Wat, Cambodia.
Now she’s stateside again and embarking on a new career as a writer. Inspired by the places she's been and the people she met on the way, she plans to tell tales of romance and adventure.
Wanderlust
is her first book.
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About Aeroplane Media Press
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Acknowledgements
Love and kisses to the following people who helped bring this book baby into the world:
Vince Dickinson, of Dickinson Copy Editing, who polished up the manuscript with just a few days’ notice and made lots of valuable suggestions. Any remaining errors are the fault of the author, not the editor;
Teresa Lagnozzino, of Alluring Designs, who provided the cover concept;
My husband, who provided encouragement and coffee, despite this being so-o-o-o not his kind of book.
All rights reserved. Except for brief passages quoted in a newspaper, television, radio or online review, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Wanderlust
Copyright © Aeroplane Media 2015
Published: 10th February, 2015
Publisher: Aeroplane Media Press
Cover image: ©
Masson/Shutterstock.com