"Honestly, I thought you’d slap my face and send me on my way," he said. He pulled me closer and wrapped his arms around me. "Nothing I've ever experienced could have prepared me for this." He rested his nose against my forehead and laid a small kiss there. "You can kick me out at 4 a.m. like you said, and I won’t regret what I did one iota, but, love, don't you think there's something more happening here?"
Yes, I agreed silently, you were sent here by a spell and my sister's revenge reading list, that's what's different. Irrespective of how you had sex beforehand, now you're compelled to have it the way I like it. I rolled over to snuggle in hard against his chest. No matter how good the sex was, this was almost as good, just that sensation of someone's arms around you, the warm, comforting weight of their body against yours. This is the golden vagina moment, I thought dimly, where the characters equate great sex and attraction with something emotional. How could anyone have such great sex with someone they aren't meant to be with?
Except that wasn’t the case in real life. I'd had the best sex with guys who I found attractive, but weren’t that into. As the anxiety about ‘is this the one’ was off the table, I didn't have much to lose. I could be bolder, blunter, seek my own and my partner's pleasure without much thought to tomorrow. Relationships seemed to only get that way after some time.
“And what’s got you all frowny?” he asked, with a slow smile. “You didn’t get enough from me?”
“Dear God, no. I will never say I regret it, but I may be walking a little funny in the morning.”
“Yeah?” he smiled
I reached over and kissed him: because I liked the taste of cigarettes on his tongue, because it stopped him from asking me any more questions and because none of this shit was real and I could do as I liked. I decided it had been worth it, this had been the fuck of a lifetime. I could find another tenant if I had to.
“Mmm . . . mmm . . .,” he moaned, rolling me over, so I lay on top of his body, deepening the kiss, making it last longer, harder. “Yeah, that’s it.”
“What’s it?” I asked, pulling away to catch a breath. He just looked down his body meaningfully, pushing himself against me until I realised what he was talking about. “Again? Are you serious?”
“What? I told you, can’t get enough of you. Just wanted another taste of that juicy little–”
“Get on your knees,” I said.
“What? Why?”
“I figured turnabout is fair play.”
“Honey, I don’t need that. I told you, just smelling you, touching you is enough for me.”
“Seriously? What guy knocks back a free blow job?” He frowned at that, eyes flicking. He shook his head slightly and scrambled to his knees on the bed as I settled in front of him. The confusion soon cleared away the moment my mouth closed over the end of his dick.
It was late, close to 4 a.m. We were just lying there, quiet. He’d made me stay true to my word, every time he got hard again, every time I thought I didn’t have another orgasm in me, with a few quick touches he had me ready and panting again. It was kind of scary. It was like he owned me or something. I would have been really worried if he didn’t seem to be equally affected by me. We’d fallen quiet finally, probably to the external gratefulness of Mrs Hughes beneath us on the ground floor. If she was giving me the side eye before, man did I have a rude greeting waiting for me tomorrow.
I focussed on his hand, making long, sweeping passes along my back, smoothing my hair down, curving around my butt and then starting again. It was mesmeric, usually enough to send me to sleep, but I fought it. He was the perfect romance conundrum: kind of a cocky dick outside the bed, most receptive and responsive lover ever in it. My heart was beating just inside my mouth, making my breath come shallow and fast. Would I feel him fade away, the real Gabe sleeping safely in his bed? Would he turn on me, wondering how the fuck he got here? Right now, I didn’t care. Jez had been right, this was an opportunity of a lifetime and I was glad I’d taken it. I watched the night sky out my window; the stars twinkling their best through the light pollution of street lights and neon signs and focused on the slow rise and fall of his chest.
14
“Love.”
My eyes snapped open. The first thing I realised was I’d fallen asleep, the second that it was morning and the third was Gabe the Wonder Tongue was still here. Fuck, fuck, fuck! my brain supplied helpfully. I sat bolt upright and he handed me a mug of coffee. “I made it milk with one. No idea if that’s how you liked it, but I figured you’d tell me one way or the other.”
“You’re still here.”
“You seemed pretty happy with the way things were going, so I took that as an invitation.”
“But, don’t you have stuff to do?” I gestured vaguely.
Gabe smiled at my discomfort. “Flea’s doing the shop outfit. I’m gonna be a silent partner, so the design is his bag now, though I’d like to think I have reason to drop by now and then.”
“Right, right,” I took a sip of the coffee as my mind raced. This was not what was supposed to happen. This was a neat situation with a definite end date. The coffee was, of course, perfect. I took another sip and looked over to where he sat next to me on the bed, nursing his own cup.
“You’re freaking out,” he said.
“No, no . . .”
“You’re freaking out.” He laughed, but it was in no way a joyous sound. He raked his hair back from his face and then nodded. "Been there enough times myself to know the ‘holy shit, haven’t you gone home yet’ look. Hey, it’s been . . . I’ll take a quick shower, if that’s OK with you, and get out of your hair.”
Fuck! I’m that guy! I thought. That player guy who fucks the shit out of people and then sends them on their merry way. His eyes looked out hard into the cold morning light and he put the mug down with a clunk and left the room.
Let him go, I said to myself, sitting on the bed. This is good, what needs to happen. We’ll barely see each other unless there’s something up with the rent. Enjoy this for what it is and let him go. Instead, I walked to the bathroom, opening the door to become enveloped in a cloud of steam. I pulled off the old t-shirt and stepped inside the cubicle, looking at his strong hands running along his body, the hard muscles in his back shifting and moving. I put a hand out, laying it lightly on his hip. He froze, turning slowly to face me, water plastering his hair over one eye.