Can't Go Home (Oasis Waterfall) (14 page)

“Yeah, I’m sore as shit now too,” I say. Realizing how crass I must sound to her, I say, “I mean, my body aches now.”

“Dre, you don’t have to watch your language around me. That’s just silly,” she says, shaking her head. “You don’t have to change for me.”

“Pebbles, I’m not trying to change for you,” I admit. “I just wanna show you that I respect you … you deserve my respect.”

“Well that was nice. Thank you,” she says. “But truthfully, sometimes, at the right time, it’s fucking hot.”

Kathryn fans herself, cracking up. I laugh, grabbing her hand. I drag her close to me, kissing her softly. She wraps her arms around my neck, tickling my skin lightly. It’s amazing how something so new can feel so familiar. She backs away, breathlessly, running her tongue along her top lip. “See, hot.”

“Yeah, really fucking hot,” I agree, taking a long drink of my beer.

Staring at her, I smile and recite, “There was a young lady named Brent/With a cunt of enormous extent/And so deep and so wide,/The acoustics inside/Were so good you could hear when you spent.”

“Oh my God, seriously Dre, John Irving’s going to think you’re stalking him,” Kathryn jokes, shaking her head at me, but smiling widely. “But … it is kind of hot, I gotta admit.”

“The girl’s cunt?” I ask, laughing. “Or me reciting great British literature to you.”

“First of all,” she says, counting on her fingers, “Ewww, don’t use that C-word around me again. Bleh,” she cringes and shivers.

“Secondly, it’s American literature, Einstein … and third … yes, you reciting any literature … or poetry to me … is in fact very hot.”

Running my hand down her arm, I lace my fingers through hers, bringing her hand to my lips. I kiss the back of her hand, staring in her gorgeous, dark bedroom eyes. “I’ll never use that word again,” I say. Opening her fingers, I slip her pinkie into my mouth, swirling it around my tongue. Kathryn’s breath catches; her lashes flutter. Kathryn bites on the corner of her lower lip as her chest rises and falls.

“Alright … alright … you two. Get a room,” comes an all-too-familiar voice from behind Kathryn. Her eyes widen and jaw drops as she sits up straighter, retracting her hands, and folding them primly in her lap.

Laughing, I start to explain, and Rory says, “Good thing it’s a hotel … and oh wait … you two are already booked here for the night.”

Rory walks around to put his arm around me and says, “Reginald Carlson, general manager of this here joint.” Kathryn extends her hand to shake his, but Rory takes it and kisses it. Then, he pulls her into his arms and says, “Damn Dre, you’re right. She’s gorgeous.”

“That’s enough buddy, back up,” I say, yanking him off of her. “Rory, Kathryn; Kathryn, Rory. He’s currently in grave danger of losing his ‘best friend’ title though,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Rory, this hotel is magnificent. I heard the food here is sensational,” Kathryn compliments.

“You’re still going with the dinner plan then, eh?” Rory asks. “I thought that once you saw how well my man, Dre, cleans up that you’d be high-tailing it to the honeymoon suite with a ‘Privacy Please’ hanger on the door until sunrise.”

Laughing, Kathryn says, “Well Rory, Dre here, never told me we were spending the night. I didn’t even pack my pajamas.” She winks at him.

Rory turns to me and says, “Fuck man, why do you always find them first?”

“Sorry buddy,” I say, pounding him on the back. “This one’s taken. Eyes, hands … and … and your dirty gutter mind … off.”

“Dude, ain’t no way you can control what’s on my mind,” Rory says, shaking his head, smiling at Kathryn.

Kathryn smiles, grabs Rory’s hand, and says, “Here’s the deal, Rory, if Dre leaves me high and dry … well, not dry … not dry at all … again tonight, you better believe I’m coming to find you.” Rory whines, banging his head on my shoulder.

Growling and locking eyes with Kathryn, I say, “Not gonna happen, mark my words. Not gonna happen, Pebbles.”

“Better not,” she says, sipping her wine.

After a frustratingly painful, but delicious dinner, Kathryn and I make our way to the elevator. Just as we’re about to enter, Rory runs in and leans on the door. “Dre, I almost forgot. Ya got another letter from Piper,” he says, handing me an envelope.

“Uhhh … thanks,” I mutter, shooting daggers at him. What a fucking dick! He knows not to mention her in front of Kathryn. Fucking asshole.

Realizing his mistake, he says, “Uhhh yeah, sure, anytime.”

As the elevator door closes, I make my move, hoping to distract Kathryn from the obvious question coming my way. I turn her around, wrapping my arm around her waist, pulling her back against my body. As my hand rubs the front of her thigh, my other hand holds her against me while I kiss the back of her neck and down her bare back.

Kathryn’s breath catches as she lets out a small moan. “Who’s ‘Piper,’ Dre?” she asks, offering more of her neck to me. I love that she questions me while still urging me to continue. Nobody is getting between us tonight.

“Nobody … just someone from my past,” I reply, not at all truthfully. Piper is most definitely somebody—somebody significant.

Apparently, the answer appeases her; Kathryn turns around and kisses me deeply. I spin her, backing her up against the wall, hiking her leg up around my waist. “Oh God,” she moans, feeling my erection through the thin material of her dress.

The elevator dings, indicating our arrival, I groan, separating from her. “You can just call me, ‘Dre,’ tonight,” I joke. I grab her hand and lead her out of the elevator. I fumble with the keycard, dropping it. My attempts at cool, collected, and suave are failing miserably.

“If you’re so ‘Godlike,’ then just open the door, for Dre’s sake,” Kathryn kids, easing my nerves. Dre’s sake? That’s pretty funny. I’ve got to give her that one. I’m not sure why I’m so fucking nervous. What the fuck? It’s not like I haven’t done this before—a couple hundred times. There’s just something about being with her that has my head all in jumbles, and my hands in fumbles. And I’m turning into Dr. Fucking Seuss.

Finally, we walk into our room, and Rory’s got it all sexed out. There are probably five-dozen roses all around the room, a bottle of champagne chilling in a bedside bucket, and chocolate covered strawberries and a box of condoms on a silver platter on the nightstand.

“Fucking Rory! Kathryn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Sorry for what? Looks like it’s all covered here,” she says, walking over to me. “Listen Dre, I don’t know what happened last night, but I’ve … I’ve … been on fire since you left,” she admits. She begins unbuttoning my shirt, and says, “If you’re ready to finish what we started last night, then I’m game.”

She stops midway down my shirt, leaving the rest of the buttons fastened, and holds both of my hands. “But if you want to drink champagne, eat strawberries, and just hang out, then I’m game for that, too.”

I’m speechless. Kathryn thinks I don’t want her. She thinks that I’m not into this. Holy fuck, those thoughts have got to end now, right fucking now. I grab her forcefully around the waist, yanking her against my body. Her eyes widen, and her breath catches.

“Listen to me, last night was … was … a fluke. Nobody’s leaving this room tonight. This room, that bed, my body … everything in here tonight will be for your pleasure … tonight you’re going to learn the real meaning of pleasure,” I state, taking back my authority, knowing exactly what I’m about to do to her.

I lean in to kiss her, purposefully missing her lips and connecting with her neck. I suck the skin of her neck into my mouth, using just enough pressure for her to feel it, to ignite her inside, but not enough to leave a mark on her gorgeous, flawless skin. I continue to kiss her neck, working my way around to the back of her. When I’m completely behind her, I kiss and bite her shoulders, easing the red straps down off of her shoulders and arms, finding her second tattoo, a small four-leaf clover on her right shoulder blade. Talk about getting lucky.

The dress slides down her body, pooling around her feet. There is nothing sexier than a braless, confident woman. I continue kissing her bare back, wrapping my arm around the front of her to cup her breast in my hand. Her nipple is hard against my palm. I watch as tiny goose bumps cover her arms; I trail a finger along her arms, knowing the effect it’s having on her.

I back away, “Turn around, Kathryn … slowly. I want to see you.” Kathryn spins agonizingly slow, wearing nothing but a black lace thong and black heels. “Stunning.”

Without any prompt from me, Kathryn steps over the dress, and shimmies her underwear down, standing naked and self-assured in front me. She walks over to me and finishes unfastening the buttons on my shirt. With my shirt open, she slides the material off of me. I step back and take my t-shirt off immediately, dying to feel her bare breasts against my skin.

As I reach for her, she holds her hand out, stopping me from coming any closer. “Not just my pleasure tonight, Dre,” she says, running her hand down my chest to the waistband of my pants. “Our pleasure.”

I nod, knowing that there’s no going back. Kathryn Howell has possessed me. She’s so much a part of me that I don’t know how I’ve even survived this long without her. I spent the last month worrying that I was going to break her, destroy her. But, I now know how wrong I was. Only one woman in my entire life has ever had the power to crush me, and she’s standing right in front me.

“Kathryn, there’s something that I need to tell—”

“Not now Dre,” she says, covering my lips. “Confessions later. Pleasure now.”

Kathryn runs her nails up my chest, sending the heat to my groin. She bites on my lower lip, guiding me back toward the bed. Just as I’m about to lay her back on the bed, she shifts, pushing me down on the bed. I sit with Kathryn standing between my legs; we’re nearly eye-to-eye, chest-to-chest. I wrap my arm around her while my other hand finds her breast. I roll her nipple between my fingers, tugging on it while it hardens in my hand.

I’m staring at her as she’s watching me touch her. Kathryn hasn’t taken her eyes from my hands. She licks her lips and chews lightly on her bottom lip. She likes watching me. “Do you like that?” I ask, wanting to hear her voice.

“Don’t stop, Dre. It feels so good,” her voice is raspy, full of excitement.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I respond, pushing her breasts together, tonguing and tasting her nipples alternately. Kathryn wraps her hands in my hair, pressing me against her.

Abruptly, she pushes me, forcing me to lie back. As she crawls up the length of my body, she pauses at the button of my pants before undoing them. I help her get them off, taking my underwear right along with them. Kathryn stares at my face and looks down at my naked body, grinning wickedly. I can’t imagine anyone being more beautiful, more confident, and more tempting than she is right now.

Kathryn kisses my chest, circling my nipple with her tongue, working her way down my body. She pauses at my bellybutton, teasing me with her tongue and fingernails. I’m fighting the urge to flip her over, when she continues to go further south. When she skips my erection, kissing and licking my thighs, I punch the bed, groaning in frustration and want. Kathryn massages my legs, pushing them further apart. My body is on fire; I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to stand this incredible torture. Kathryn sits up on her knees and grins as she reaches for the champagne.

“Rory’s gonna regret giving us this,” she says, smiling mischievously. Kathryn shakes the bottle and pops the top, showering the bed and me in champagne and bubbles. “Awww … what a mess!” she says, displaying the most pouty-mouth I’ve ever seen.

“I guess I should start cleaning it up,” she says, leaning over my body. Pausing, she sits back up and says, “But before I do …” Kathryn doesn’t finish her statement. She reaches up and pulls a pin from her hair as it all cascades down around her.

“Fuck,” I mutter, gripping the sheet. Kathryn looks magnificent astride me with her hair falling all around her, wearing nothing but black high-heels and a sexy smile. I want to impale her, be deep inside her, and wrap my hands in that hair, pulling it back hard as she screams my name.

As Kathryn licks the champagne from every inch of my body, I keep trying to reach for her, to touch her, to kiss her, but she just bats my hand away when I do. Finally, Kathryn’s lips engulf me, taking me in to the back of her throat.

“Yeah, that’s it,” I say, hating the way it sounds. I want so much to be able to tell her how incredible her mouth feels on me. I want to explain it in every detail. Kathryn needs to know that what she’s doing is beyond any gift, any winning ballgame, and beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s not just the act of what she’s doing; it’s that it’s Kathryn who’s doing it. I’m captivated by her beauty, entranced by her intelligence, and mesmerized by her confidence. And goddamn do I need to fuck the Hell out of her.

When I know that I can’t hold out any longer, I tangle my hands in her long hair, easing her head back. “Hold on, Pebbles,” I say, running my fingers through her hair. Looking back up at me with a gleam in her eye, she trails her tongue up my body, licking my chest and neck.