Fix It for Us (12 page)

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Authors: Emme Burton

BOOK: Fix It for Us
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“Mmmm….babbling…sexy.”

             
“Davis.”  Oh, I don’t want him to stop.   But.  My parents.  “Davis … Mavis, baby.”  I push him away slightly.  He looks so sad.  “My parents are Right. Next. Door.”

             
“So.  They are probably doing the same thing we are.  I mean, come on, your Mom was pretty hot in her leopard PJs.”  Oh my God, he did not just say that.  I open my mouth in genuine surprise.

             
“What?  They were smoking,’” Davis jokingly protests, huge grin on his face and raised eyebrows.

             
I smack him on his arms and chest to get away.  He doesn’t let me loose. “You are a sick man, Mr. Davis Brandon.  That’s my mother and I don’t even want to think about their – oh my God, sex life.”

             
“No.  What would have been sick was if I said your father looked hot in
his
leopard jammies.  That’s twisted.”  He is having a great time, chuckling to himself and teasing me.  “I know when I look at your mom, how you got to be so adorable, that’s all I’m saying.”

             
I let him know he is forgiven with a big, passionate kiss, opening his mouth with my tongue and stroking under his top lip.  Then I proceed to suck at his tongue suggestively, a promise of more.   When I finish I pull away slightly and we both groan,  “Mavis, I want you to hold that thought…the one you are thinking right now, and I am feeling down there.”  I point between us to our shared excitement – his quite obvious.  “My parents are leaving in a little while, let’s get them out the door and get my matinee over and I swear, I am all yours for the rest of the weekend.”

             
Davis’ eyebrows arch with anticipation, “All mine?  Every bit?”

             
“Every bit.  Yours.”  I turn out of his arms, step out of my yoga pants, pull off my hoodie and run naked to the bathroom.  Looking over my shoulder at him at the last minute and smiling.   He charges after me and I shut the door just in time.

             
Davis bangs on the door to the bathroom, “Do I really have to wait?”

             
“Yes.  Now, go get dressed.”

             
“I’m dirty.”

             
“Tell me about it.”

             
“No really, I need a shower.”

             
“Okay, I’ll be out in a minute.”

             
Davis moans, “You really ARE going to make me wait, aren’t you?”

             
I sigh softly to myself, leaning against the door, hugging myself around the waist and stroking my own skin lightly, wanting him as much as he sounds like he wants me.  Then I tell him through the door, “It will be worth it.”

***

              Um, it was
totally
worth it.

             
I just arrive in my dressing room after curtain call when there is pounding the door.  I have never had a private dressing room until I landed this role.  It’s not fancy, but it’s so nice to have a place to prepare before and decompress after a show in private.  The pounding, is, in all likelihood, one of the freshman dressers, there to collect my costume for cleaning.

             
I yell, “Come in.”

             
It’s not the dresser.  It’s Davis.  His eyes are smoldering, dark forest green, pupils dilated. He shuts the door behind him and locks it, smirking, mischievously.  He scoops me up with his strong arms and locks me to his chest, and announces, “Mine, every bit.”

             
I still have my costume on.  Before I can tell him anything – that I need to change, remove my make-up -- his hands are deftly releasing the many, many hook and eye closures at back of my dress.  He isn’t kissing me – no distracting himself or me from his desired outcome – which is me, out of costume and “all his.” I step out of my dress, pick it up and turn to hang it on the hanger on the back of my door.  As I do this, Davis is behind me, unlacing my corset.  Once removed, I place my corset in my dirty clothes bag, also hanging on the door. 

Davis and I are not speaking, just moving.  I am naked from the waist up.  Davis turns me so we are facing the lighted mirror.  I bend forward and put my palms flat on the dressing table. 
Davis leans down and removes my character shoes, placing them under my table.  He moves back up and skates his hands around my waist, sending shivers through me.  Our eyes make contact in the mirror and burn into each other.  He’s barely touched me and I’m already aching for more.  All I have left on are my panties, tights and my hairpiece.  Davis slides his thumbs under my tights and swiftly pulls them down my legs.  Without taking his eyes off of me, he reaches back and sticks the tights in the dirty clothes bag.  I watch all this in the mirror.  He is very determined.  

Now, just in my panties, he pulls me back aga
inst him.  He is fully clothed, but I can feel him – every bit.  We’ve been here before, me naked, him clothed – he seems to like this.  I’ll have to reciprocate sometime.  Still watching him in the mirror, he takes my breasts into his hands, pinching and extending my already rigid nipples.  He kisses my shoulders, never removing his gaze from mine in the mirror. 

A loud knock comes on the door.
  I freeze.  Davis doesn’t.

             
“Yuh …Yes?”  I cry out, huskily.

             
“Miss Connelly?”  It’s one of the dressers.  They are trained to address us formally, as they would in professional theatre.  “Miss Connelly, I am here to collect your costume and laundry.”

             
Davis must have known they were coming.  In the mirror, I see him put one finger up to tell me to give him a second, then he puts it up to his lips, indicating that I should be quiet.  He hands me my light robe off the back of my chair, drapes it over my breasts and wraps my arms over the cloth.  He moves me off to the side, away from the door.  I ache with need at the loss of his intense touch and stare.  Davis takes my costume and dirty clothes bag off the back of the door and barely opening the door, holds it in the open space.  His hand comes back empty.  He shuts and re-locks the door.

             
“Uh, Thank you, Miss Connelly,” the confused freshman says loud enough to be heard through the door.

             
I cock my head at Davis, who has turned back and is approaching me, and call out toward the door with a deep laugh, “Thank
you
.”

             
Davis takes the robe out of my hands and throws it back on the chair.  He reaches up, and I have no idea how he knows how to do this, begins removing bobby pins from my hair to take out my hairpiece.  He is touching me nowhere else, only my hair and scalp, but standing there nude, being attended to, has me vibrating with anticipation.  He removes the hairpiece and places it on the dressing table behind him, without even looking.  He rakes his fingers through my hair, smoothing out where the hairpiece was, still touching nowhere else.  I tip my head back and moan, as my hair tumbles down and tickles my shoulders.   It feels so good.  It feels so good all the way down to my panties.  Panties that are in danger of becoming flammable, if he doesn’t remove them soon. 

Finally, Davis slides both his hands down to my cheeks and
, holding my face like a gem, delivers a kiss that would have me on the floor, if he wasn’t holding me up.  I can’t take it.  If he isn’t going to touch me.  I am going to touch him.  I tear at his crisp, white button up, unbuttoning as I melt into his kiss.  I slide the shirt off his shoulders and arms and let it fall to the ground.  My hands grab for his muscular chest and slide down to feel every hill and valley of his six-pack abs.  If I wasn’t so caught up in his kiss, I would get on my knees and kiss those abs – and more. 

As if reading my mind, and still without speaking, Davis is on
his
knees.   He has backed me up to the wall of the dressing room. Those nearly flammable panties?  They are gone in a heartbeat, and he is delivering a million kisses on my lower abdomen.  He lifts my right knee and puts it over his shoulder.  I am completely exposed. I hold his head and shoulder to steady myself, as after one last look up at me –scorching me – he begins his careful accosting of my most sensitive area.  Working his tongue with intermittently changing pressure and rapidity.  Again, he is focusing all of his attentions on only one area, but this area was already about to combust.  Still holding his head and shoulders, I tip my own head back.  It hits the cement wall with a slight thud.  The dull ache only seems to intensify my desire as I try to absorb the growing sensation below.  I pull on Davis’ hair as the build progresses.  I am glad he is bearing part of my weight on his shoulder because the leg holding me up is starting to shake.  I can hold on no longer and with a spasm of excitement, I pitch forward, grasping Davis’ head in desperation and releasing in a crash. 

As I come down from the pinnacle, I allow my head to fall back a
gainst the cement wall again, this time not as hard.  Davis is panting at my waist, holding my buttocks and kissing me at the crease of my legs and up to my navel.  He is almost worshipful.  I reach down and cup my hands under his jaw, pulling his face up to look in his eyes.  This gorgeous, gorgeous man is all mine.  And I am his and I tell him, “All yours.”

             
I want to make him feel as good as he has made me.   I bend over to kiss and taste his soft lips.  Slowly, he rises to his feet, our lips and tongue still entangled.  I move him quickly backward until he practically falls into my dressing table chair.  I bend down and reach for his belt buckle, but Davis grabs my hand.

             
In a deep, satisfied sounding voice he tells me, “We can’t stay in the dressing room all night and I intend for this to go on and on.  If we are going to get locked in a building, it will be in our building, in our bed.  After all, you
are
mine for the rest of the weekend.”  He looks down at my hands on his belt buckle and then up at me, one eyebrow arched and intones, “To steal your words, Lizard … hold that thought.”

             
He said OUR building and OUR bed.  I’ve never heard him say that before.

             
Davis stands up, finds my street clothes and hands them to me.  I am still in ‘let’s get naked’ mode.   He grins hotly down at my lack of clothing.  “Get dressed, I want to get you home, so I can take them off again.”  Insatiable boy.

             
Davis practically carries me to the car.  When we arrive at the condo, I realize it’s been one of those car rides when you barely remember anything except leaving and arriving.  We are both in a haze of excitement to be alone together. 

Flying through the door to the condo, Davis and I leave a trail of apparel all the way to the master bathroom.  I guess, I mentioned I needed a shower or something, I can’t remember, I am in such a thrall.  We have been in constant physical contact since getting out of the car and I can’t even bare to stop touching him as he turns on the water and checks the temperature.  I step in behind him, through the glass door of the shower.
Davis backs me into the pounding stream of water, tipping my head back and wetting my hair.  He turns me, so my back is to his front and carefully washes, rinses, conditions and re-rinses my hair.  Davis then lathers up his hands with the apple scented body wash I have left there and washes every inch of me, taking great care.  When I am completely covered in suds, I turn and wrap my arms around his neck.  I kiss and slide my body over his, using it to wash him like a human loofa.  I am rewarded with a large, intensely happy smile from his beautiful lips and eyes.  We rinse each other off and I take a few moments to wash my face more thoroughly of my stage makeup.  Davis has not taken his hands off of me the entire time.  I am beyond turned on.  I need more of him immediately. 

Davis steps out, grabs a soft, fluffy white towel, turns back to me and wraps me up in it, tucking it in at my breasts.  The brief touch of his fingers moving lightly over the top of them ignites something in me. 
I rip the towel off and in my now only slightly dryer state, I begin drying him off, while simultaneously moving him backward out of the bathroom and toward the bed.  This time, he will not stop me.  I know what I want.  He has encouraged me in the past to ask for what I want.  Now I think I will just take it. 

The back of Davis’ legs hit the edge of the bed, causing him to sit suddenly.  I have him right where I want him.  I am feeling a little giddy with power right now.  I start at his shoulders
and move the towel down and down and down with my hands until I am kneeling at his feet.  I gaze at his long, proud erect cock in front of me and practically smack my lips.  To use Davis’ words, “All Mine,” is all I can say, in a low, purposeful voice.  I think I’ve surprised him, because when I look up, he seems in awe, eyebrows raised, head turned and tilted a bit, looking down at me, daring me with the sparkle in his eye.  I accept the challenge.  Not a stitch of clothing on, either of us, it all feels so charged, erotic.  I push up into a taller kneel, with one hand firmly encircling the base, I lightly lick and then tease the notch at the crest of his hardness with my tongue.  I feel him twitch beneath my lips and then sigh heavily, “Lizard, Oh God, yes…”  I want to do this for him.  Do it right.  I begin to stroke firmly but slowly, giving a slight rotation on the upstroke.  With the other hand I hold and weigh his balls and tease the area in between them.  Davis’ moans of pleasure increase.  My tongue and mouth are in heaven.  I plunge my lips down onto his silky hardness, practically gagging, spinning my tongue as I pull up to the tip, flattening my tongue and licking hard along his entire length.  When I reach the tip, I suck with vigor and tease again at the notch on the underside.  I continue repeatedly.  With each plunge, Davis holds my head, grasping my hair and pulling ever so slightly.  It spurs me to continue.  I can feel myself becoming aroused and wet, as he grows ever harder.  His groans are coming more rapidly now and he is pulling at my head and grasping at my shoulder, much as I was earlier in the evening.  With an animalistic grunt, I feel his entire body and his erection spasm, as he comes in my mouth, spurting hotly.  I swallow quickly.  I didn’t know what to expect, but it is not displeasing.  Actually, it pushes me further in my excitement and I feel myself creeping closer to the edge.  Keyed up, I move one of my hands to my clit and flick it only slightly with my index finger before I come myself, right after him.  When I finally look up into Davis’ eyes, I see pure love and satisfaction.

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