Confessions of a Bad Boy (12 page)

“Take off that suit right now,” I growl, low and mean, as I grip her roughly, teasing her clit through her suit bottoms. “And put me inside you.”

Anxious and tense, her every breath trailing off into a high-pitched moan, Jessie unties her bottoms and throws them onto the floor, reaching between her legs to grab my cock, guiding it towards her. As I press against her slick entrance, she cries out in a frenzy, grinding her hips back to meet me as my hard length finally pushes between her pussy lips.

“Oh my God,” she gasps, as I slam myself inside her tight warmth. “Oh my God.”

“You like that?” I whisper, pushing and pulling inside her slowly as I stroke her ass, letting our rhythms sync, letting her pussy feel every ridge and curve of my cock.

“Yes,” Jessie wails, drawing out the word out to three times its length.

“Beg me for it,” I command, as the slow explorations become powerful thumps.

“Please, Nate,” Jessie squeals, her voice wobbling with every thrust. “Please.”

I reach forward and grab her ponytail again, holding her hair tight, forcing her to bring her head back, coaxing her to lose control. Then I bring my palm down again on her ass cheeks, enjoying how her firm body feels under my hands.

“More,” she sighs between her desperate breaths, “harder.”

Our hips smash together over and over again, crashing together like tidal waves, my cock venturing inside her like a bolt of thunder striking and rumbling, sending ripples across her flesh. Her pussy squeezing and pulsating around the stiffness of my cock. I pull her hair harder, my other hand going to her breast now, pinching her hard nipple between my knuckles until she cries out with the combination of lust and pain.

I fuck Jessie as if I’m angry with her, as if punishing her with pleasure, as if I blame her for making me so damned horny. I take the ball of tense desire that her tight little body makes me feel and direct it back at her in those crashing drives, those bombs of sensory overload.

“Fuck, your pussy’s good,” I snarl, panting furiously.

Jessie loses control, her face pressed into the bed, her hand to her mouth as she lets out a cacophony of stuttered breaths, broken moans, and long shrieks. I focus on her, my eyes gorging on the sight of her perfect shape. I run my hands around her ass, allow myself to rake my fingers across the artistic indents of her back, leaning over to pull on the delicate arc of her shoulder. It’s too much to take in, too much beauty, too much feminine allure, and it pushes me over the edge, saps the last bit of self-control from me.

She lets out a louder, longer, higher moan, and it’s music to my ears, the final trigger. I come like a dropped bomb, explosive and destructive, all my strength gathered into the point of our connection. Her pussy tightens as she does the same, and for a few magnificent seconds we’re lost at sea, clutching onto each other as the waves roll and rumble around us, clinging onto one another as we ride out the storm and see where we wash up.

Shattered but content, Jessie stretches out her arms and then curls up on the bed, while I roll over and lie on my back beside her. For a few minutes we just lie there next to each other as our breathing slows and goes silent. I turn my head to look at her, and see that she’s already looking at me, the slightest hint of a smile on her lips.

“I haven’t been fucked like that for a very long time,” she says, her voice quiet and husky.

I chuckle a little and look back at up at the ceiling.

“I haven’t needed it that bad for a very long time, either.”

After a little pause, Jessie says, “It’s still just sex, right? Just while we’re here?”

“Yeah,” I say, hoping that Jessie is convinced, though barely convincing myself. “It’s still just sex.”

T
he tension
between me and Jessie as we begin our long drive back down to L.A. is so thick you could swim in it.

Since I started my video blog the one question I got more than any other was about how to deal with the morning after. The sense of embarrassment between two people that makes you talk to each other like bad actors with a half-written script. The memories of what you did the night before looking a whole lot worse in the unforgiving light of day. Avoiding conversation not because you both regret something, but because you’re not sure if you regret it for exactly the same reasons.

I’ve got a whole new appreciation for those questions right now, and a load of new material for my blog.

Once the polite goodbyes to the rest of the people at the retreat were said, and the bags shoved quickly into the back of my car, we got inside and haven’t said a word in the hour since.

To be honest, we hadn’t talked much for the entire Sunday. Not unless commanding each other to do various things ‘harder’ and ‘faster’ counts as ‘talking.’

Rushing back from the golf course on Saturday turned out to be the tip of the iceberg. After that we were late for dinner because we fucked in the shower, left the table early to go for a walk and fucked up against a tree at the far edge of the vineyard, then had a few drinks with the others before finally doing it in the pool. I’d never met a woman whose stamina could match mine the way Jessie’s did, and it turned out that learning Jason the porter’s first name was a smart move when we ended up needing him to discreetly get us more condoms, having exhausted my supply…although judging by the satisfied look on Dominique’s face over dinner, it seemed possible that the porter had needed some for himself anyway.

After another morning-call blowjob, we had a long serious talk about how all of this was a bad idea, and how we needed to stop doing it. We both promised vehemently that was it, then broke the promise around forty-five seconds later when we passed each other a little too close on the way to the bathroom.

During a quick lunch where a few others commented on how much time we were spending in our room, and how low-energy both of us seemed, I thought on my feet and told everyone Jessie was feeling a little ill. I think they bought it, though I don’t know for sure, because Jessie and I finished eating quickly and took advantage of the excuse to spend the rest of the day working through more positions than an Olympic gymnastics routine.

We were right about one thing, though, which was that things would change as soon as we left the retreat. The second I pulled out of the long driveway and hit the main roads, the cold realization of what had just happened descended upon us like a blanket made of guilt and embarrassment. As if the retreat itself was a dream in which anything goes, and the long drive south was the journey back to reality.

“Nate…” Jessie says quietly, after about twenty miles of the most focused driving I’ve ever done in my life.

“Yeah?” I say, sounding perky.

“Are we…just not gonna talk about this weekend?”

I wrap my fingers tightly around the wheel as anxiety bubbles up from deep in my soul.

“What’s to talk about? It was an arrangement. It was just sex—”

“Right. Just while we were at the retreat. It doesn’t count,” Jessie interrupts wearily. “I know the lines by now, Nate. We’ve been saying them all weekend.”

“Right.”

She takes a breath. “But…was it?”

“Was it what?”

“You know what.”

“I don’t.”

Jessie throws her head back and sighs.

“Come on, Nate. Don’t be unfair.”

I curb myself before spitting out another dismissive, instinctual response. Normally I’d shrug it off, but this particular situation – because it’s
Jessie
– is anything but normal for me and for once I have no idea how to react. She must notice my change in expression, because instead of pushing me again, she waits for me to talk.

“I don’t know, Jessie,” I say, and it comes out sounding like an admittance of defeat. “I’ve got a million questions I’ve got to answer myself before we can talk about it.”

I glance over and she nods with empathy.

“Okay,” she says, more strength in her voice now. “How about we get back to L.A., leave each alone for a few days, and then we can talk about it.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I mean, we’re cool, right?”

“Of course,” I say, looking at her to show I mean it. “We’re always cool. It’s us.”

“Good,” Jessie says, smiling a little.

W
e don’t talk much
for the rest of the journey, both of us comfortable enough with Jessie’s idea of giving each other some time to just relax and enjoy the drive, and the rambling tunes on the radio filling the quiet space. For a while, I can almost believe that things really are cool, that we can really just go back to the way things were.

But then I look over at her, and realize that rationally, reasonably, and objectively, my mind might understand, but my body’s going to take much longer to forget.

Eventually I pull up outside her apartment, and I get out to help her with her heavy bags up the elevator and to her apartment. She opens the door, takes the bags from me, and walks a little way into the apartment before turning back towards me.

“Guess my roommate’s out on another gossip assignment.”

I nod, not sure of what to say, because the only thought going through my head is the fact that we could fuck right here in her apartment and nobody needs to know. Jessie smiles awkwardly at me, and the whole vibe of weirdness between us seems to make one last flourish before we can leave each other.

“So…” Jessie says, lifting her arms and dropping them to her sides in a shrug.

“So…I guess I’ll see you?”

“Yeah. Um…call me?”

“Okay.”

We shuffle our feet and continue smiling bashfully. I wait for her to make a gesture, like closing the door, or stepping back, or for my body to turn around and walk away in the manner that any normal situation would dictate, but it doesn’t happen.

“Well, bye Nate,” Jessie says, opening her arms wide for a goodbye hug.

“See you, Jessie,” I say, taking her in my arms.

We bring ourselves together in an embrace. It’s natural and sweet, innocent and harmless – for about three seconds. Then Jessie nuzzles my neck and takes my earlobe between her teeth, while my hands descend down her back and slide into the back pockets of her jeans. I push her forward into the apartment and she kicks the door closed behind me.

My lips are on her neck, devouring the soft smoothness of her skin there, while her hands grab my sides, pulling me onto her. I let the whirlwind of smells and sensations that make up the playground of her body take me over once again, turning me wild and rampant.

“Ooh, Nate.”

“You like that, huh?”

“No! Your…your…
thing!”

Jessie pushes me away from her and points at my pocket. For a second I’m weirded out, until I realize what she means – my phone’s vibrating.

I pull it out and groan when I see the name:
Mom
. I look at Jessie and shake my head, setting the phone on a side table, already moving in to recapture the momentum.

And that’s when the universe decides to start being stingy with the luck.

“Come here,” I growl at Jessie.

“
Hello? Nathan?
”

The voice coming out of the speaker jolts both of us apart. I stare at the phone like it’s just turned into an iguana, then back at Jessie. She mouths the words ‘what the fuck’ and I shrug desperately at her, trying to gesture that I had no intention of answering this call when I was seconds away from tearing her clothes off, and that this is just the sort of terrible price humanity has to pay for smartphones.

“
Hello? Nate! Are you there? I hear something! Can you hear me?
”

I sigh with defeat and bring the phone to my ear, taking the call off speaker.

“Hello, Mom.” I feel my shoulders slump and out of the corner of my eye I see Jessie covering a giggle.

“Nate! Where are you? You haven’t called me in a month! I thought you were dead!”

“Mom, don’t be melodramatic. I—”

“And that’s the first thing you say to me? That I’m being ‘melodramatic’? Fine thing to say to a parent, that is. And I always told people you were the ‘good one.’”

“I’m the only one, Mom. And I’m sorry, I’ve just been really busy. I had to—”

“Of course you’re busy! Too busy to call, too busy to check if I’m alive, too busy to treat your parents with any kind of respect.” Yep, that’s Mom. Once an actress, always an actress. I think she likes working herself up into a tizzy over not hearing from me way more than she likes actually hearing from me.

“I’ll visit you soon, I pro—”

“No need to visit me, Nate. I just called to tell you that it’s your father’s birthday the day after tomorrow. You know how seriously he takes his birthday celebrations. I expect you to be there. If I can soldier through the agony of attending my ex-husband’s soiree, you can certainly make the effort and show up, too. Besides, I’ll need you there for moral support.”

I mouth the word ‘shit’ to nobody in particular.

“Okay. I’ll be there.”

“You always were my favorite son,” she coos.

“Only son,” I say. “I’ll call you later, Mom. Thanks for reminding me.”

The phone clicks as my mother hangs up. I pull it away from my ear and stare at it for a few seconds before putting it into my pocket. I look up at Jessie, who offers me an expression of deep sympathy.

“My dad’s birthday is in a couple of days.”

“I kinda overheard that.” Jessie nods. “I guess he’s having one of those big mansion-parties again?”

“Yep. Although calling them ‘parties’ is a little generous. Though I guess they don’t have an official term for ‘annual family in-fighting and score-settling as scantily-clad wannabe actresses splash around in the pool’ day.”

Jessie laughs softly.

“That sounds about right. Do you have to go?”

I sigh a little. “He’s still my dad. And my mom wants moral support. I think the reason she still goes to these is to be reminded of why she left in the first place.”

Jessie smiles sympathetically. “Sounds about right. I guess everyone will be there?”

“Yeah. All three of his ex-wives. All seven of his step-children. All his current gold-digging girlfriends that he’ll parade around like it’s something to be proud of. Probably a few ‘surprise’ guests to add some spice to the mix.”

I can sense Jessie’s awkwardness, her conflicting emotions fixing her in place, unsure of what to say, however much she’d like to console me.

“Anyway,” I go on, putting a little freshness into my voice and opening the door, “I guess I’ll see you soon.”

I step out of her apartment.

“Wait,” Jessie says, striding quickly up to me. I turn around in the hallway to face her. She looks at her feet for a second, curling her tongue around her lip like she’s stoking up courage. “Why don’t I come with you?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, wondering if I heard right.

“I could come with you, to the birthday party.”

I let out a quick laugh.

“Why would you do that? I always go alone. Every year.”

“Right. And you always come back and talk about how amazingly horrible it was.”

“That’s the tradition.”

“Well, what if
you
had some moral support? What if I came with you, helped deflect some of that horrible-ness? It’s not like I haven’t seen your family at its worst. No offense.”

I cross my arms and shake my head. “No way. You’ve already bailed me out of one gathering of old folks, I can’t ask you to bail me out of this ten times more insane version.”

Jessie smiles softly.

“Maybe it’s turning into a habit.”

“Jessie, come on. You don’t want to do this. I wouldn’t wish my dad’s parties on anyone.”

“Will it be embarrassing?”

“Definitely.”

“Funny?”

“If you like black humor.”

“Then I’m there. It’ll be quite entertaining to see your family go all bacchanalian.”

I smile at Jessie while I roll the idea over in my head.

“I don’t know. You already came to the retreat with me – as far as I’m concerned, we’re even now. I couldn’t ask you to suffer through this party as well. I’d feel so guilty.”

“The retreat was fine. Hell, I ended up meeting one of my heroines, making some amazing contacts,
and
I got the weekend off work. I should be thanking you for that.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to. Look, you hate those birthday parties, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“And part of it is because you’re on your own there, right?”

“Kind of.”

“So having someone there who has your back, someone who you can talk to like a normal human being, should make it easier. Plus I can always get ‘sick’ and need you to drive me home in a hurry.”

I look around as if wondering where on earth all this blindsiding is coming from, then turn my eyes back to Jessie and shrug.

“I guess that could work.”

“Okay then!” Jessie says, as if the decision has been made. “Let me know when you’re going to pick me up.”

I watch Jessie’s smile broaden and start laughing a little.

“When did you get kinda awesome?” I ask, flippantly.

“I’ve always been awesome, Nate. It just took you a while to notice.”