Page 3 of Under His Sheets
He smiled then, and there was a mischievous glint in his soulful brown eyes.
“Endless.”
I closed the distance between us, feeling the heat coming off of his hard chest under his tight t-shirt as our bodies came in contact. I relaxed for the first time in two weeks, and man, was it nice. People don’t realize how much the lack of human contact and physical touch can really impact a person. Weigh them down or eliminate all ties they have until they blow away in the breeze.
He slid his hand around to my lower back and his fingers slipped under the waistband of my jeans.
“Then let’s commence exploration.”
His lips were the balm I needed, his tentative kisses soothing my soul from the losses I’d experienced, reminding me that there was still good in this world, still people willing to help out when you were in a rough patch, and right then, I was raw.
I also realized I wasn’t thinking straight. Wasn’t this how Americans went missing? I knew nothing about this guy, no one knew where I was. I still had a manager after this whole debacle, but she was back in the States and we weren’t, like, besties or anything. I didn’t talk to my family as they abhorred my career decisions. The only person back home who gave a damn about me was my former teacher, Mrs. Cecilia Galván. Perhaps it was time to reach out to her.
Well…tomorrow.
“Listen, Randall,” he said, taking a strand of my long, curly hair, and winding it around his finger. “I can make up the sofa for you if you just want to rest?—”
“And if I don’t?” I ran my hands up his chest, balling the material of his t-shirt in my fists.
He tilted his head to the side and clicked his tongue against his teeth. “If you are sure, then I suggest we take this to bed.”
His words unlocked a desire within me that hadn’t seen the light of day for…a long time. He was direct, only slightly breathy in a way that let me know he was into this as much as I was, but he wasn’t overtly flirtatious or attempting to seduce. He was a man on a mission, no time for superfluous chat. I liked it.
“Lead the way.”
The next few minutes held a series of questions:
“Lights on or off?”
“Off,” I said, wanting to experience this through my other four senses. Sight could be deceiving, and sometimes judgmental. And seeing when your partner was judging you was not a pleasant experience.
He must have had blackout curtains, though, because it was pitch black. Not even a digital clock. The only visible light came from his phone display, which he held in his hand.
“Music on or off?”
“On, please,” I answered, wishing to hear what music he thought was perfect for sex. I didn’t just make music for a living, but I experienced it holistically in all aspects of my life. Since he’d already mentioned Mike Patton, I wasn’t surprised to hear another album he was featured on,Lovage: Music to Make Love to Your Old Lady By, playing through a speaker somewhere.
“Clothes?”
“Off.”
“Mmm, excellent choice.”
Once our clothes were removed and we fell into his bed, his hands were already exploring. Mine, too, and I’d beensoright about the body beneath those clothes. The guy obviously made fitness a priority. I hoped he wasn’t disappointed.
“Oral or no?”
“Oh,yes,” I replied as he worked his way down my chest, his light stubble igniting my skin inch by inch until I was a quivering mess of want.
He held himself in a plank position, at least that’s what it seemed like in the darkness, and the occasional grazing of skin against skin had me trembling. When he finally reached my straining erection, he didn’t hesitate, just silently got to work.Enthusiasticallygot to work, making me shudder, and I praised him over and over. With everything that had gone wrong lately, having something gosoright?—
“Top or bottom?”
“Side, actually.”
He moved back up my body and spoke close to my ear.“I’m afraid I’m not familiar?—”
“Everything but…uh,that. Don’t mind a little ass play, but no dick, yeah?”
