She twisted her fingers in his hair, holding him close to her as his teeth scraped her sensitive skin. An “oh God” slipped from her lips, and then another and a third as his mouth left her nipple and he raised his hips, pushing upward against her, meeting her movements. She gripped the back of the mower’s seat for leverage and let him take control of the rhythm, having no choice but to enjoy herself. It felt good not to be a martyr in bed for a change. Not that they were in a bed per se, and this went beyond good. She couldn’t recall a time when she’d been so delirious with bliss.
Her whimpers and soft, airy groans echoed through the relatively silent garage, their volume and breathy, needy quality turning her on even more. She’d never realized she could sound or be so sexy. Imagining what her moans must be doing to him, she leaned forward, angling herself so her clit met with the base of his cock, and screamed her way into an orgasm with him slamming into her.
He’d been fairly quiet aside from his erratic breathing, but his body convulsed beneath hers and he released a choked “oh fuck” that sounded like he’d been bottling it up for years.
Kimber pressed her lips to his in a sweet, indolent kiss, her heartbeat still hammering in her ears. He replied in kind, his hands traversing her skin as though he was memorizing her, the moment. That touch told her she hadn’t made a wanton mistake; despite its unorthodox start, whatever was happening here actually meant something. This was real. She didn’t know anything practical about him, but she intuited she knew everything important.
She drew away from him, wanting to ask if she could take off the blindfold but not knowing how. Furthermore, the unveiling partially terrified her. She wondered, even in such an intimate position with his cock softening inside her, if she was ready to know the truth. It was a fear she couldn’t explain, even to herself.
“So,” she said, opting for a slightly different route, “what did you have to tell me?”
He took a deep breath and held her tightly for a moment before releasing her and helping her stand on the concrete again. Then he adjusted her dress in place and pressed her crumpled thong in her hands. She heard the jangle of his belt buckle and his zipper hissing back into place while she awaited a response, confused.
Distance fell between them and then came the groan of the side door opening, followed by the noise of the not-so-far-off party. Finally, he said in a choked voice, “That I can’t see you anymore.”
By the time she yanked off the blindfold, he was gone.
Chapter Five
Jay had tried. He’d arranged to meet Kimber in the garage, figuring it was the least sexually suggestive place to do so. Who could possibly be turned on in such an environment? Him, apparently. Kimber could probably make the apocalypse sexy. His libido didn’t seem to have a conscience; all his good intentions of staying focused and morally sound dissolved as soon as she kissed his cock, and his willpower had gone the way of ancient Rome. Just a few seconds of the memory made him hard. He’d thought the only way he’d ever see Kimber deep throat his cock would be via his dreams, but when she actually did it, he couldn’t have imagined it better—because it was one hundred percent real. And when she directed him inside her and rode him to oblivion…
But not even the recollection of Kimber’s tight cunt milking him dry and bringing him to the fringe of paradise could make him forget or ignore the immediate aftermath. She’d made his dreams come true, and he’d essentially dumped her minutes later. It was a scenario he’d thought less probable than her ever giving him head. Maybe such an unlikely event happening was signifying the aforementioned end of days. The impending arrival of the Four Horsemen was the only excuse he had for explaining his insane, out-of-character behavior. Was this traipse down the slippery slope toward mental illness a new development or something that had been lying dormant?
Jay was intensely afraid of the person he’d become. For all his insisting he’d intended to do the right thing, why then had he spent the past week, calling upon that one acting class he’d taken in college and working on a way to disguise his voice? Why would he do that if he’d planned to tell Kimber the truth? He couldn’t be sure of anything anymore, sans his intensifying feelings for her and his self-loathing in himself.
He drove past Kimber’s apartment complex the next morning, noticing her car in the lot and cringing. He was scared to face her, to face her sadness and shock and then to try to comfort her while pretending he wasn’t the one who’d plunged her into misery. He’d help her wish a plague on the house of this heartless, nameless bastard who’d used her up and thrown her away—himself. Jesus, the situation became more screwed up by the second.
Jay turned the Monte Carlo around and parked in the empty spot beside Kimber’s battered coupe, unable to ignore the possibility of her in pain, especially since it was his fault. As he made his way to her door, he rationalized that this was the perfect time to not only offer his friendship and support but to do some damage control. He could play devil’s advocate and suggest reasons why her lover bailed to keep her self-esteem and optimism afloat. It seemed a fine plan, yet it still managed to deeply sicken him.
He knocked on the door to apartment 18 and waited as he heard footsteps muffled by carpet rush toward him. Then he heard a knock mimicking his come from the other side and the door unlock. He twisted the knob and stepped inside, where he saw Kimber settling on her futon, freshly showered and looking comfy in frayed jeans that were too big for her and a vintage-looking navy T-shirt displaying a Honolulu surfer.
She rested her laptop atop her crossed legs and gave him a brilliant smile. “Hey! This is unexpected.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth.” He shut the door behind him and eyed her with suspicion. No signs of tears, distress, or loss of sleep. Then again, women were tricky, deceitful creatures; talking to them was like negotiating a minefield. Kimber could combust into a rage at any given moment and body parts would start flying.
She gave him a strange look at his comment but otherwise didn’t acknowledge it. “What brings you here?”
“Just passing by. Thought I’d check in.” There it was—the first truth he’d told in days. When had he turned into such a liar? He glanced around the room, unable to look at her for too long without wanting to crack. “The place is really coming along.”
“You think?” She chuckled and took a long pull on her juice box, her cheekbones caving until the staccato sound of the last few drops trapped in the straw filled the room and she let it drop, empty, on the scarred wooden end table. “One futon and a few magazine pictures taped to the wall, and you think this joint’s a palace?”
“Let’s not get carried away. I just said it’s coming along.” Jay smiled in spite of himself, granting himself permission to enjoy how easy it was to be in her company. He gestured to the stack of neon orange milk crates holding DVDs beside the TV. “Nice rack.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls.”
His innuendo had slipped from him with little effort and triggered the unpleasant reminder of why he was there. He settled in one of the beanbag chairs scattered on the floor. “So, how are you?”
“I’m awesome. Just catching up on some
XKCD
comics I’d missed and watching last night’s Jon Stewart. And later I plan on taking on the Marsh Cave in
Final Fantasy
while eating taquitos.” She lifted her chin toward the TV and her ancient Nintendo, both resting on a locked trunk. “I love days off.”
Pepperoni, perched on the back of the couch just behind Kimber’s head and resembling a feline-shaped airline pillow from Jay’s vantage point, released a yawn of agreement.
“Cool, cool.” Jay nodded, not sure how to talk to her. He’d been expecting to walk in on a firestorm, not intrude on a peaceful, normal routine.
“Did you have fun at the party?” she asked. “I didn’t see you last night.”
No, she sure didn’t. “Yeah, just hung out with the usual clowns.”
She smiled. “Was Moquest still trying out pick-up lines? Any actually work?”
“It’s still a work in progress.” In truth, he’d high-tailed it out of there as soon as he’d left the garage, unable to face anyone, including Moquest, who’d called him five times already and it was only 11 a.m. He picked at the small white foam beads spilling from a tiny hole in the beanbag chair. “What about you?” He forced the words out, and it felt like trying to regurgitate glass. “You have fun?”
“I did.” She closed her laptop with authority and gave him a brilliant grin, like she’d been waiting for someone to ask. “I had a fantastic time.”
He nipped his lower lip with his teeth. “What happened?”
“I met up with my mysterious friend.”
“How’d that go?”
Kimber twisted into a horizontal position on the couch with a happy sigh, hugging the laptop to her chest and looking at the ceiling like a lovesick teen. “You don’t want to know.”
“Yeah, I do.” Did he? “Tell me.”
“Let’s just say we put the ‘riding’ in riding lawn mower.”
That was for sure. He’d never be able to cut grass again without getting a hard-on.
She turned to him. “You don’t seem too surprised or impressed by that.”
“Oh. Am I supposed to be?”
“Why the hell wouldn’t you? I fucked someone on a lawn mower. That doesn’t raise eyebrows?”
He shrugged. “I’ve done it before.” As in twelve hours before.
“Hmph. I didn’t realize it was so common.” She pouted in a way that made him ache to kiss her, then brightened again. “I bet you didn’t do it blindfolded though.”
This was getting a bit too close for comfort. “True, you win.” He took a deep breath. “So what happens now? You gonna keep seeing him or what?”
Kimber sat up and set the laptop on her coffee table, which was actually a battered bass drum she’d rescued from the curb. “That’s the plan.”
Jay stared at her, dumbstruck, not knowing how to question that without giving up the jig.
She planted her feet on the floor and leaned forward, clasping her hands, her expression turning serious. “He told me when he left he couldn’t see me anymore. It pretty much broke my heart at first but then…” She shook her head, lost in thought. “I realized that something can’t
not
happen between us. What happened was fucked up as hell, but it was real. I felt it, and I know he did, too. He had to have. A connection like that—I can’t understand how anyone could ignore it. It’d be criminal.
“And when he kissed me last night, I had this crazy epiphany that it was the most important, meaningful moment of my entire life. There’s no way I can let him just walk off into the sunset and accept it as a freak incident, a hiccup in reality. For me, that
was
reality. That was so real, it felt like a dream. I know I’m probably not making any sense and these are really bizarre circumstances, but I can’t let this fade away without a fight.”
Jay watched her, a knot in his throat and his skin prickling. Finally, he dropped his gaze to the floor and stabbed the beanbag chair’s hole with his pinky, not trusting himself to speak.
“Hey.” Her voice forced him to look at her again, and she wore a sympathetic smile. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
He cleared his throat with a cough. “Don’t worry. You didn’t.”
In truth, he was more than uncomfortable. He was in huge fucking trouble, and he had no idea how he was going to get himself out of it.
* * *
“So tell me all about him,” Ferney said later that afternoon over her and Kimber’s lunch specials at a local southwestern restaurant.
“Tell you all about who?” Kimber feigned ignorance, partly to rile Ferney up and partly because she was terrified of her sister’s reaction to the truth.
Ferney raised her fork, tines toward Heaven. “Tell me or this goes right into your hand.”
“Fine, just calm down.” Kimber rolled her eyes. “But I need you to prepare yourself, because you aren’t going to like it.”
“Psh.” Ferney scoffed. “Anyone’s better than Dane. Lay it on me.”
Kimber poked the ice in her Coke with her straw, wondering how to bring it up, then decided to just get it over with. “Truth is, I don’t know his name or what he looks like, or anything about him, actually. Moquest arranged for us to meet up in his room with me blindfolded, and one thing just led to another, and I finally experienced what you said you have with Paul. Even though it’s totally weird, I think something can really happen here.” There it was, laid out and abridged.
Ferney stopped picking at her taco salad and stared at her like she was a terrorist. “Okay,” she finally said. “And the real story is…”