“Anything but that,” I whisper.
“Okay,” he says.
We stare at each other for a moment, my refusal hanging between us like a boundary.
I reach for his hand and put it back, then smile encouragement. “Your hand feels so good. You have incredible hands.”
He smiles, lifting away any awkwardness. Now we’re just having fun again. His fingers start having a lot of fun.
I moan and rock my h*ps against him. He’s so amazing with his fingers—responsive to me—but there’s an urgency to his movements that isn’t just from me.
Pushing myself up on one elbow, I reach for Drew’s zipper. “Time to let the tiger out of the cage.”
He rolls his h*ps back. “Do you have any condoms in the house?”
“Not as many as I have in my purse. They’re old, but I checked the expiry date on the drive here.” We stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, both grinning like two idiots who are dumb enough to have coitus on a lawn but smart enough to use protection.
“Game on,” he says.
He gently withdraws his hand from between my legs and starts looking through my purse.
I unzip his pants and let the tiger out of the cage. It leaps right into my hand, ready to go. I give it a few strokes, while admiring Drew’s form in the moonlight.
He’s still wearing his sweater and shirt, but that seems reasonable, since the fall night air is crisp.
He tears open a packet, and I reach up with one hand, palm outstretched. “Let me do it.”
He shakes his head at me and rolls the condom on himself while I watch. We’re both grinning, and then he returns to being on top of me. He uses his chin to push my shirt up, along with my sports bra.
His mouth sinks down on my nipple at the same time as he nudges my legs wider.
No more grinning or jokes. This is serious business time.
He sucks the flesh of my breast into his mouth at the same time as, down below, he slides the tip in. I cry out in sweet anticipation of release. He teases my nipple in his mouth, sucking so that unimaginable pleasure shoots through my body. I’m writhing around now, barely able to keep my moans quiet.
Now his hands are on my hips, his fingertips digging into the flesh of my butt with pleasure as excruciating as his teeth and mouth on my br**sts.
He slides in further, sending sparks of desire shooting through me. We move together like we’ve been here before, with each other. He pulls my shirt and bra off over my head, and now I’m na**d on the grass underneath him, like a wood nymph.
He rains kisses down on my chest, my neck, my lips.
The sweater has to go. I grab it and yank it off over his head. Next, I work the buttons of his shirt and pull it open at the front, so I can slide my hands up his smooth, gorgeous chest.
We keep rocking together, our h*ps working together and then against each other.
He reaches his full depth inside me, the tense mass of his balls tickling between my legs, along with the blades of grass.
The sparks inside me turn into fireworks. I murmur to Drew that I’m coming, as long as he keeps moving the way he is.
He pulls his face away from mine, to watch me as I come. I roll my head to face away to the side, conscious of my eyebrows tenting together and rising.
“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs.
I peak, and it’s like cotton candy raining down around us. It must be from what he said, because this orgasm is the prettiest one I’ve ever felt, in shades of pink, like cherry blossoms raining down in the spring.
He switches gears, turning his face in the opposite direction as he bears down on me. His movements are steady and powerful. My whole body is sliding up on the grass with each thrust. His pace quickens until he gasps, spending himself in five, six, seven pulses.
He rests on me with a contented exhale.
My arms are both curled up around his back, one arm under his shirt and one over. My knees bent. My body lets go of all tension and I let my legs stretch out, and then my arms.
Another pleasurable feeling takes hold of me as I stare up at the starry sky, only this one isn’t physical. It’s as if all of life is gathering up in this one moment, making a knot, as if to say… this is something.
Drew’s body is hot, and the grass beneath me is cool. I can smell the earth now. I move my arms and legs slowly, the tickling sensations of the blades of grass sending me the message again. This is something.
Drew plants a noisy kiss on my cheek and starts to pull away, lifting his upper body weight onto his elbows.
He moves his face over mine, blocking my vision of the stars. “What on earth are you doing? Are you making grass angels?”
I stop moving my arms and legs. “Not on purpose.”
He chuckles. “I think the best things we ever do are not on purpose.” His expression grows serious. In the dim light of just the moon and the house’s porch light, with his face in deep shadows, this look is very serious.
I frown up at him. “Don’t fall in love with me.”
He doesn’t react immediately.
I quickly apologize. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. You can fall in love with me if you want. But you should know, I’m a terrible girlfriend. It’s going to end in tears, and there’s something else you should know. I won’t be the one crying.”
“I don’t care if you’re a terrible girlfriend, because I don’t want one of those.”
“You don’t?” My voice cracks.
“Silly Meenie.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “I want a human barnacle, like you promised.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “I could be your barnacle.”
“Could you wear that captivating shirt you wore the night we met? The I-Heart-BJ shirt?”
“Even better. I’ll wear the I-Heart-BJ shirt while giving you one.”
At the mention of this, the part of him that’s been recovering gives a twitch.
I let out a squeal, which makes him twitch again.
He pulls away from me, reaching for his pants to cover himself. “Maybe we should go into the house before someone calls the cops.”
Right on cue, a police siren sounds off in the distance.
We stare at each other, eyes wide.
“No way,” I whisper.
We scramble to gather up our clothes and run laughing into the house, moving as quickly as we can.
Chapter 19
In the morning, I wake up to an elbow in my face. Drew keeps sleeping, oblivious to me groaning about his elbow hitting my nose.
“I think it’s more crooked now,” I grumble.