18. March 6th

MARCH 6TH

Kai

Fuck,fuck, fuck!

A third orgasm rolled over Kai's body, Waters' promise fulfilled from her request of a repeat. Was there something wrong with her that her body flipped for him like this?

I think he broke me.

For a brief moment, she recalled Waters' comment at the diner when he joked that she'd been dating the wrong men. Had she just managed to pick partners poorly? Or maybe she'd just been killing time until this one came along? Either way, it was worth it for her body to have waited for this man.

At thirty-five, Kai had never felt like she'd missed out before. Occasionally, she wondered if something was wrong with her because sex just never seemed to be on her radar. Then Waters walked into her life, and she became a hormonal mess and couldn't stop thinking about it.

The misfires in her brain stopped, and her senses slowly began to return. "Mmm, that was better than chocolate. Thank you."

He slid up next to her in the bed and turned on his side, his head propped up by one hand. His other hand was drawing lazy patterns on her stomach. "I'll take that as the highest form of praise, but did you just thank me for orgasms?"

"Yes, please."

He chuckled deeply. "Babe, that answer to the question didn't make sense, but… I understood."

Turning herself on her side to look at him, she wrinkled her nose. "You've learned to speak ‘Kubrick'?"

"Mmhmm." He kissed her shoulder. "It's not that difficult if you pay attention."

"Really?"

"Yup," he nodded. "There's only four key words and phrases you have to know."

"And those would be…?"

He threaded the fingers of his free hand with one of hers and kissed the back of her hand. "Chocolate." A kiss to her fingertips. "G.I. Joe." He dragged the tip of his tongue from the thumb to the heel of her hand. "Fuck, in assorted formats and contexts." A touch of his lips to the palm of her hand. "And a wide variety of derogatory words that are created by putting ‘ass' in front of or behind them." He gently sucked the pulse point in her wrist while looking up at her with a devilish grin. "And a propensity for sticking your tongue out. So I guess it's four verbals and a visual."

Tentatively, her other hand went to reach for his bare chest and stopped part way before dropping to the bed. Should she touch him? Would that make him uncomfortable if she reached out without an invitation? Did it make her look needy?

"Why did you stop, Kubrick? I think we're past needing permission."

"How did you know that's what I was wondering?"

"Babe. Your face is telegraphing everything you're thinking and feeling right now. Believe it or not, you suck at lying." She blushed and hung her head, so he ducked his head to see her face. "Why are you hesitant to touch me?"

She blew a strand of hair off her face and turned it to the ceiling to prevent him from seeing her directly. "I'm not good at this. Ask me to direct a movie, even a love scene, for God's sake, and I'm fine. But when it comes to reality, not so much." She shook her head.

He smiled at her. "Touch me all you like. I'd prefer you did, actually." She smiled shyly back at him. "There's something else, isn't there?"

She sucked in her bottom lip as she debated what to say. "What we just did, it didn't feel normal."

"What do you mean by ‘normal'?"

"The orgasms. They were odd. Like, eyes roll back in my head odd."

"And that's not happened before? They didn't feel like that?" She shook her head. He chuckled, kissing the back of her hand again. "You really were dating the wrong men."

She laughed and pushed at his chest. "Maybe you're just that good." He puffed up a bit. "Oh, quit preening, you big peacock. I'm sure you know just how good you are."

"Something about the words ‘big' and ‘peacock' just doesn't seem to fit together."

"Don't get all smartass on me right now." She was tracing the edges of the tattoo on his chest. The subject shifted back to serious. "I've never come that hard. Or that many times that close together. And definitely not without any pressure on my clit. Have you…" she started, stopped, inhaled, and then pushed through with her question, still refusing to look him in the eye. "Have you made other women do that?" She huffed. "Sorry, that was such a ‘girl' question. I don't want it to sound like I'm pumping you for information about your past because it really doesn't mat—"

"Kubrick," he interjected. "Plenty of people need significant recovery time before they can come again." He took a lock of her hair between two fingers and curled it around the digits. "You, apparently not. And that makes me a very happy man because, to be honest, I'm not a one-and-done guy. I want to make sure you feel good, and I like to go for a while. If I'm going to do something, I'm going to do it well." He gave her a cheeky wink. Then his face became serious. "As for coming without touching your clit, no. I've never made a woman come just from touching or sucking on her nipples. I've heard some women can do that, but when it happened with you, that was a first for me, too." He moved his mouth to the shell of her ear. "And it was hotter than hell. I can't wait to do it again." His tongue flicked out and traced the cartilage of her ear, his warm breath tickling and arousing her all at the same time.

"What if what I want isn't…?"

He reversed out of the crook of her neck, and his eyebrow quirked up.

"Forget it," she retracted her question. She tried to pull away from him, but he rolled over so that he caged her beneath him.

"Nope, not happening."

"It's embarrassing."

"Kubrick, I've heard your mouth run a million words per second. I've heard you say some of the raunchiest, most inappropriate, and downright evil things, all of which are a major turn-on, by the way. Suddenly, this afternoon, after what we just did, you're self-conscious. And that's concerning to me. So what has got you so hung up? Please. Tell me so I can make you feel better." A thought occurred to him. "Is this about the diner conversation and us being ‘mismatched'? Are you worrying about being ‘good enough' for me?"

Her fears came out in a tidal wave. "I'm thirty-five and clueless. I've wanted you from the moment I saw you. Honest to God, your voice made me think of hot fudge, and I wanted to lick every goddamn inch of you like you were a spoon. Eighty million things are running through my head that I'd like to do to you, with you, things I've never even given a second thought to before. Now I've had about thirty minutes of you, and I'm worried I'll do something dumb and make you back off because it's childish, or needy, or clingy, or freaky, or whatever. Like this stupid, unfiltered confession. You're so beautiful and I'm so, not. I don't understand why you're interested in doing this with me. I have next to no experience, and you've been with tons of women—"

He grabbed one of her hands and pressed it against his hard length, guiding her to stroke him through the material covering him.

"Fuck, what are you feeding that thing?" she whispered.

His lips slid to her jawline, then her mouth, as he mumbled, "Virgin sacrifices?" When he came up from kissing her thoroughly into oblivion, he dragged her hand below the elastic of both the track pants and his tight-fitting boxers. His voice was breathy when he pushed his hips forward into her hand and asked her, "Does this feel like I'm not turned on by you? That you're not ‘good enough'?"

Slowly, she shook her head.

"Good. Because I was thoroughly stunned by you the moment I walked into that conference room, and I was totally turned on the moment you put us in place with your camera catches." His voice dropped to a pained whisper. "And, baby, I was one… hundred… percent… fucked the minute you licked that fork clean of chocolate in Alice's. All I could think about was pouring chocolate on my cock and you wrapping those pink lips around my dick and sucking it clean.

"You are the sexiest woman I've ever known, and it's going to take every bit of control within me to wait until tomorrow night to fuck you so hard and so long that you get to the point you can't move because you're exhausted and deliciously sore." He groaned, and his mouth moved to nip the lobe of her ear. "Know what else I'd do? I'd take you home, and I'd fuck you on every surface all night long. When morning came, I'd make you breakfast and feed you while you lay like a queen in my bed. And I'd be whispering in your ear how fucking great a time I had with you."

What the hell? He'd break his rules for me?

His skin was so soft to the touch but solid in her grip. He radiated intense heat from every pore, even in the slight dampness of her bedroom. Holding his cock in her hand, listening to the dirty talk coming out of his mouth, knowing that being with her made him respond this way was empowering. It was like someone had opened the doors to a cage, and she was free for the first time. He made her feel free. Free to take what she wanted and be whom she wanted. With that, her decision was made.