Page 32 of Road Trip
A shiver ran down my body at the tone of her voice. I’d been wondering what her mood would be like when we arrived. I surmised the nap had her feeling rested. I felt great, surprisingly. I was sore from my beating the day before, but I felt pretty darn good. I blamed it on her.
The desk attendant was giving me all kinds of information about the resort and tickets and services, and all I could think of was Abra’s head on my shoulder, her hand in the back pocket of my shorts, and the smell of her hair.
“Thanks,” I said, cutting her off and taking the envelope out of her hand. “I can’t really think right now.” I felt bad when she looked sad she couldn’t finish her speech. “Can we see the concierge in the morning?”
“Yes, of course, Mr. Graham. It’s late. You two go get some rest.” She was awfully chipper for it being nearly one in the morning. She pointed us toward the correct elevators, and I grabbed our bags: Abra’s duffel with skulls on it and my red Target bag. I really missed my Calvins. This darn Target underwear was riding. And I needed my bandage changed on my butt. As the elevator doors closed, Abra yanked on the front of my shorts and made me forget all about my issues. She did things to my neck that had me totally panting when the door binged for our floor, at which point she nonchalantly turned around and walked down the hall to our room. I let us in with shaky hands and had just shut the door when she was on me again. I scooped her up under her hips and held her to me with her legs wrapped around my waist.
“Shower, then bed?” she asked with a sexy little smile.
“Quick shower then I’ll try to make it to the bed.” I was even more wound up than the night before. Memories of what we’d done together so far assaulted me until I was pulling at her clothes, trying to get to her skin so I could make new memories with her. She helped me with her top and her bra while I pushed her up against the bathroom wall and got really acquainted with her breasts. They were small and rounded and swayed so lovely without her bra on. I wanted to run every inch of my body over her skin but settled for my lips and tongue and teeth. She moaned softly, encouraging me on with whispered words until she’d had enough.
“Off, off, off! Get them off!” She yanked her shorts off, and I was held in place by the vision of her beautifully shaped mound. It made the most curvy, soft V, covered with dark, curly hair trimmed neatly in a shape meant to caress the eye. She was sexuality embodied; she was perfect…she was so impatient she started yanking off my clothes as well.
