If Only (23 page)

“I love this dress on you.”
I trace my finger tips down over her hip, feeling the super soft fabric
clinging to her curves. “I’m looking forward to taking it off soon, too.” I
take Callie by the hand and we walk along the hall, to the stairs.

Everyone is drinking
tonight, so we get a couple of cabs to the club. We’re in the VIP section, so
we don’t have to join the line outside. The music is a mix of genres, which is
ideal given the varied taste among the seven of us. A heavy Hip hop beat plays
while we sit in our semi-circular, purple and black leather booth, knocking
back shots and cocktails. I’m not getting hammered, not tonight, but I am in
the mood for alcohol.

The three girls get up and
start dancing when
Justin Timberlake
sounds. My focus locks on Callie
and her sexy rhythm.
Summer Love
is playing, demanding those hips of
hers to work with it. I’ve always liked the way she moves and the way she gets
lost in the music and doesn’t give a damn if anybody’s watching.

She notices my attention and
makes eye contact with me. I feel like I’m getting my own private show, nobody
else exists – it’s just the two of us. Singing along with the chorus, she lifts
her small digital camera, which she uses when she’s not working, and starts
taking my picture. I don’t move. I watch her watching me.

We’re all up now, the
atmosphere is electric, everyone in the room is feeling the vibe as the track
goes on in an extended version. I’m behind Callie, taking in the sensual, fluid
movement of her spine and that ass, oh, that ass. My grasp on her hips, I move
in closer.

After a few other songs
play, Callie goes to the ladies’ room. I take the opportunity to talk to
Johnny, the guy who owns Blaze.

Callie returns soon after.
She hasn’t been gone long and she has a mischievous look about her face, which
amuses me and turns me on. The dance floor is busier, hotter, the beat still
heavy, though slightly quicker. We move over to a corner. Her arms up around my
neck, mine tight around her waist, she feels so small. If I held her the way I
want to, I’d probably break her. Her heels assist with the height difference,
and I adjust myself to help some more. We find our own pace, slower than the
song playing, but perfect for us.

She knows I’m hard, it’s
impossible not to be. I seize her butt, partly in frustration, and pull her
tighter to me. Reaching behind herself, she takes one of my hands and guides it
in between us and up under her dress.

I feel her warm, slick
folds. No panties
.
 

Joe’s eyes widen and then his lips curve into a bigger
smile, as he realizes I have no panties on. The hold on my butt gets tighter,
so tight it almost hurts, but I like it. I’m wet already and then he slips a
finger into me, tempting me more. I put my mouth to his chest and grip a chunk
of flesh between my teeth, from the outside of his shirt.

He speaks in my ear. “I
wanna be naked with you.”

“Let’s get out of here then,
birthday boy.” 

We jump in a cab, the extent
of our arousal ludicrous. We’re as discrete as possible on the way back to the
house, but we’re still all over each other, kissing and touching. I can smell
our fragrances, my apple, Joe’s sweet-spice, and our desperate perspiration all
combined, creating a heady aroma. I’ve imagined sex between us countless times,
what it would be like, the different ways we could do it. The way we are right
now, I can tell we’re going to be fucking hard. We’re horny as hell and
frustrated. Maybe that’s the result of a seven year wait, plus an additional
twenty-four hours of knowing the inevitable. The slow stuff can wait. 

The moment we’re through the
front door, Joe picks me up from behind and takes me over to the big, sturdy
dining table. I swear he read my mind. Bending me over it, he presses my chest
and my cheek against the smooth, cool surface, my arms spread wide across the
width of it and my ass up in the air. Kisses and grazing teeth all the way up
my spine, the sensations and the anticipation have me breathless. He tugs on my
hair, lifting my head enough for me to feast on his tongue. Our moans fill the
large, empty house, echoing off the walls.

Pulling away from me, Joe
tells me to, “Wait right there.” I like the demand within his tone and can only
obey.

He returns in rapid time,
with condoms, and raises my dress up over my hips, the chill of the air lightly
stroking butt. I eagerly await his next move and gasp against the table when I
feel his tongue dive into me from behind. I clutch the edges tighter with my
hands, taking every bit of pleasure his wicked mouth unleashes; licking,
sucking and spearing into me. I moan louder, on inhalation taking in the
polished-woodsy smell from beneath me. He keeps going, taking me almost to the
point of climax.

Then he moves away.

I’m over ready and barely
feel his entry before he drives into me. He curses through gritted teeth and
says something I can’t hear through my own cries. His fingers link with mine as
he takes me deep, hard, fast. Every single thrust propels through my entire
body, owning me. “You feel amazing,” he almost growls in my ear. 

The sharp press of teeth on
my shoulder momentarily stuns me. “Ah, shit,” I breathe, as the bite through my
dress just brushes the pain boundary in a quick and arousing way. I cry out and
grip his fingers harder. “Damn you, Joe.”

“I wanna see your face,” he
demands. He backs off from me.

I stand on shaky legs,
turning to him. He’s still fully clothed, only with his shirt unbuttoned all
the way down and his fly open. Before me is god of sex and beautiful
masculinity, a vision exceeding any I’ve witnessed before, and being dressed
all in black enhances the effect. The mystery that remains with only limited
exposure is insanely hot. Should I jump on him, like a crazed nymphomaniac, or
just stand here looking at him?

I loosen out my hair,
letting it all hang down. “You look so sexy, Joe. I want you to stay like
that.” He stares at me. We’re both respiring heavily and I’m certain the raw
need in his eyes is a match for mine. Pulling up my dress, I take it off and
throw it on the floor. Only my stilettos remain.

His face becomes more
serious, he’s looking at me as though he hasn’t already seen me naked. Stepping
to me, he lifts me up. I wrap my arms around his neck, my legs around his
waist, and he carries me up to the bedroom. On the way, I unbuckle my stilettos
and drop them on the floor by the door. Joe toes-off his shoes, keeping me in
his hold.

The coolness of the
unoccupied room tickles my bare flesh and the feel of the soft, cool cotton
bedding against my skin, as he lays me down, is a welcome contrast to the heat
of me.

The light from the hallway bathes us in faint
luminosity.

Kneeling between my legs,
Joe’s expression right now is a new one to add to my collection. It isn’t as
easy to identify, it’s an interaction of emotions. Love is in there, but it
always has been, it was just unknown to me. “I’m drowning in the scent of your
arousal. I can still taste you. Yet, I feel like I can’t get enough of you,” he
says, his voice low and full of desire, his palms gliding up and down my inner
thighs. “How is it you’ve only made me
crave
you more?”

“Take me, Joe.”

As he lies over me, I snake
my arms around his neck and push my hips up to meet his first thrust into me.
He moves slow and deliberate. My entire body and all its senses become
submerged in him; I’m lost in a haze of pure Joe.

“You feel so much better
than I imagined, so perfectly-fucking-right,” he tells me, softly in my ear.

“I can feel you everywhere,”
I whisper back.

Our warm skins press
together, hips rocking in perfect synchronization. The feel of him inside me,
sliding back and forth, unhurried, filling me deeply, is impossible to put into
words and so much more than just fucking.

Never have I felt this way
before, emotionally or physically.

Hooking one of my legs over
the crook of his elbow, he thrusts harder. One hand around his neck, I grip his
waist with my other and welcome everything he gives me. Right now, we’re
verging on aggressive and there’s a luscious, sexy vulnerability in being taken
by Joe, me naked and him fully clothed. The vision of sex with him is just as astonishing
as the way it feels. Watching this beautiful, dominant man take me hard like
this is mind blowing.

A glistening sheen of sweat
covers the exposed section of his torso now. I’m hot, strands of my hair are
sticking to my face and beads of perspiration have formed down the center of my
body. I reach for the collar of his damp shirt and start sliding it over his
shoulders. Together, we take it off, and he lowers himself down on me. Our
pelvises press together as he grinds into me with intent. “Ah,” and there it
is, “oh, shit.” In an explosion of sensation, I’m taken over mind and body.
This time
I
bite him, right on the top of his shoulder.

As I ease my hold on Joe,
his grasp on me tightens as he reaches his own powerful climax. I clench my
pussy around his cock as it spasms, wanting to hold on to this moment forever.

He relaxes over me,
supporting most of his weight with his forearms, and slowly withdraws. We
exchange a lazy, salty kiss, the heavy thumping in our chests starting to calm.
I can feel his against my own; two ferocious heartbeats taking each other
on. 

“Did I
really
just
have sex with Callie Ann Rogers?”

“I
think
you did, but
we can try it again if you wanna make sure.” I smile, still finding it
difficult to believe he wants me this much. I’ve spent years thinking I didn’t
stand a chance and the past few days dreading his rejection. 

After a bit of time, he
shifts off of me. “I’m gonna go pick up your dress.”

He leaves the room. I turn
onto my side feeling tired, but too wonderful to care. My restless nights are
catching up with me, but I don’t want to sleep, I want to stay awake and in
this moment.

I turn on the sidelight and
relax, but keep my eyes open, so I don’t succumb to slumber. It still feels as
though Joe’s inside me and I don’t want to doze and miss out on this, even if
there are going to be other times. There’ll never be the first time again.

Wow! I just had sex with
Joe.

Of course, I knew what I was
doing when I was doing it, but right now it fully registers. All those years of
wanting and imagining and now it’s really happened. It more than surpassed any
of the things I came up with. I shake my head in disbelief.

The whole time I’ve loved
him, he’s loved me. I never knew. Again, I shake my head in disbelief.

Just as my eyelids fail, Joe
walks into the room, closing the door behind him. I turn onto my back and watch
him. He has my dress slung over his shoulder and a beverage in each hand. “You
have no idea how much I need that,” I say, pleased with his way of thinking.

“You know, I think I might,”
he says, grinning. He sits at the edge of the bed, still wearing his pants, the
fly closed and belt unbuckled. I’ve seen his exposed torso, all that muscle and
ink, so many times, but now it’s all mine. Mine.

He passes me my drink, the
glass ice cold and wet. I sit up as he gets up to drape my clothing over the
red leather chair in the corner. Sipping my soda, the chilled bubbles fizzle on
my tongue and down my throat. Closing my eyes for a moment, I enjoy the
refreshment it brings. I take another taste.

“How long have your parents
had this house?” I observe my surroundings with more attention than I gave
earlier.

“Nineteen years. Are you
checking out my teenaged-inspired room?”

“Yes.” It’s intriguing
seeing the room he grew up in, it’s obvious a younger man once occupied it, yet
it’s quite mature at the same time. My gaze travels from the chair to the
white, glossy dresser that runs along the whole length of the far wall. On top
of it there’s a large TV and a music system. I imagine DVDs and CDs would once
have occupied some of the ample surface. There’s also a poster on the closet
door. 

Laughing lightly, I ask,
“Was Pam your teenage crush?”

“Oh,
yeah.”
He grins, looking at the picture. He shifts to sit
beside me, and we rest back against the headboard. I snuggle into his side,
enjoying the feel of his warm, bare upper body next to mine. “Who was yours?”
he asks.

“Jared Leto.”

He chuckles.
“Figures.”

“I thought I was going to
marry him some day.”

I reach across Joe to put my
glass on the nightstand. Shifting, I sit sideways on his lap, my arms around
his shoulders. He holds my naked body tightly to his. I press my lips to the
side of his neck, above the throb of his strong, steady pulse, and work my way
along his jaw. My mouth to his, I move to straddle him, my slick center against
his erection from the outside of his pants.

Sleep can wait, I have one
or two things I want to do with this man of mine.