“No reason why we should all
miss out,” Su says. “Also, I’m not so keen on sleeping outside. Anyone who
wants to should still go. It’s only over there, anyway.”
“She’s right, you two go on
and I’ll join you in a bit. I need to take a piss first,” Gerard says.
“Okay, if you’re sure?” I
say, staring Su straight in the eyes.
She nods firmly, certain.
Joe and I head off. It won’t surprise me if it gets too cold and we have to
return. Even an hour up there will be good.
We get to our new spot, it’s
lovely and I do feel closer to the stars. Gazing up at their beauty, I linger
for a moment. Not a single cloud up there. “Great idea, Joe, it is perfect
here,” I whisper, not wanting to disturb the splendor above, or the silence
surrounding us.
The almost-full moon and the
soft amber glow from our small lantern provide just the right amount of light.
We lay out our sleeping bags, side-by-side. After taking off my flip-flops, I
slide into my bag and sit up with my crossed-legs tucked in and the excess
material gathered around my waist. It’s quite warm now, but I probably
should’ve brought some extra clothing, just in case. I hope it stays this nice.
Joe’s wearing only his dark
green cargo shorts, the soft skin covering his perfectly developed muscles
painted gold from the light of our lamp. He looks like a god of beautiful
masculinity.
“I thought Gerard would be
here by now,” I say, to cover over my yearning sigh.
“You’d think so.” He glances
back in the direction we came from. “Maybe he changed his mind.
Looks like it’s just us, Baby cake.”
He finishes the last of
his beer and sits on top of his bag, facing me, with his legs crossed. “Tell me
if you change your mind and wanna head back.”
I nod, though there’s no
chance of that – we’re alone. Gerard may show up soon, but I’ll make the most
of Joe until then. Freaking A!
We get talking about our
camping trip at Lake Tahoe last year. As a group, we share so many memories,
but I forget some stuff until we talk about it.
Thirty minutes later, it’s
still just us. If I had the guts I’d take this opportunity to speak to Joe
about my feelings, but I don’t, so I won’t. I could sit here all night just
watching him, and listening to him, I’ll enjoy doing that.
Fifteen minutes later, it’s
still just us. My gaze keeps falling from Joe’s even darker brown eyes to his
lips, enjoying the way they move as he talks. He’s playing with a twig or
something, and is looking down at it, meaning I can freely admire him. I’m
totally taking advantage.
I wonder what he’d think if
he knew how much I want to kiss him. I’ve never wanted it more than I do right
now. Even without knowing for sure, I feel certain he’s an exceptional kisser.
His lips have the perfect thickness and when he’s pecked me on the cheek they
felt like the softest lips in existence. He just licked them. I so badly want
to lick them, nibble them. My tongue is literally begging me to let it slip out
and run it along his beer flavored– damn it. I sigh and make do with my own.
This is torture. It’s so
much harder than usual, tonight. We’ve been alone before, many times, and on
some of those occasions I’ve been tempted to say or do something, but it’s
never felt like this. I still have my heart to protect, he’s still the same
man, but my resistance feels weaker. I could so easily move forward … a little
... and then ... press my ... I pull back with the realization that I was
actually moving toward him. I tip my bottle of water to my mouth and sip the
contents.
I could do it. Couldn’t I?
Maybe a drunken kiss and then I could pretend to be embarrassed when I apologize
in the morning. I think I like that plan, it’s a good one. Nope, no damn way,
then I’d know what I’m missing and that would only make it worse.
And what if he pulled away?
No-freakin’-way, Su can talk to Saffron first.
Joe looks at me, and I meet
his gaze, refusing to be distracted by anything lower. Just looking at this man
makes me want to come. I am so masturbating when he goes to sleep. I’m
frustrated beyond belief and I’m certain our bodies would be a wonderful fit,
regardless of the height difference. Horizontal, we’d be perfection. I’m going
out of my mind.
Okay, he just asked me about
my latest sculpture; a mother and her newborn child. Someone bought it and
donated it to a hospital. I welcome the chance to talk and divert my attention
away from that mouth or any other part of Joe. Somehow, I need to suppress this
temptation.
Maybe I needed Gerard here
after all. Where the hell is he?
It’s just us. I wasn’t expecting this. Today Callie’s been
her usual self; relaxed and happy. The whole time I’ve looked for signs and
apart from the occasional moment, when she’s clearly been thinking about
something, she’s been cool, she doesn’t seem upset any longer. Maybe right now
is the ideal opportunity. Maybe the greater powers are at work here.
I don’t know, but there’s no
better way to find out.
I haven’t even decided how
to approach the situation yet, this is happening sooner than I expected. What
would be best, a spontaneous kiss out of the blue, or a sensible talk? Until I
decide that, we’ll continue as we are.
I’m proud of her recent sell
of a sculpture, as I always am, so I’m happy just to hear about that, for now,
and take her in at the same time. The novelty of checking her out has never worn
off, and I’ve become skilled over the years at doing it without making it
obvious. When she speaks, I listen. I also observe, admire. That is the type of
multi-tasking I can do, damn well.
I’m taking in every inch of
her; hair – slightly messy, with loose pink and blonde strands framing her
face, the bangs that somehow emphasize her beautiful eyes, eyes – big, excited
and darker under this lighting, nose – the prettiest I’ve ever seen, with a
thin silver nose ring; her preferred choice, cheeks – smoothly curved, lips –
full, tasty looking and temping, collarbones – nicely defined and perfect for
nibbling, breasts – no bra! She doesn’t need one, anyway. That white undershirt
hides very little. If I look closely enough, I can see the slight shading of
her nipples and the bars in them. Shit, I wonder if she did have panties on
earlier. Hearing her speak like that in the SUV almost sent me over the edge.
Just thinking about it now’s got my dick close to half-hard.
Right, focus!
Kiss her, or talk to her?
If I make a move on her and
she says no, then what? Will that mess with the weekend? I could say I’m drunk
and I’m sorry. Shit, I really don’t know. We’ve been wasted around each other,
countless times, and nothing happened, so that won’t work. She’s the most impulsive
person I know; an unexpected sober kiss might be the best way. I’ve never had
to think twice about how to approach a woman before, but sat here facing the
one I love doesn’t even compare.
This is insane, ridiculous.
Finally, after some
pussy-ass waiting, I shift just a fraction toward her. She smiles and throws
her arms open.
“Happy birthday, Joe.”
It’s just past
midnight; it’s my thirtieth birthday. How fucking inconvenient? Callie gives me
a peck on the cheek and one of her squeezing hugs. Keeping me in her hold,
she
whisper-sings happy birthday in my ear. This makes me
laugh. It’s so like her to do something like this.
When she finishes, I intend
on moving my lips to hers, but hesitate and miss my opportunity. She pulls
back. Shit.
“So, Joe, what do you want
for the next year of your life? You already have shitloads of money, BlackArt
is yours and Adam’s,
and
you’ve had plenty of sex, drugs and Rock ‘n’
Roll
. What’s next for Joe Andrew Williams?” She beams. It
sounds like she’s interviewing me. Good opportunity to go for another tactic,
though.
“When you put it like that,
what is there left?” I shrug, casually. “Maybe it’s time to get myself a
girlfriend.”
She snickers. “You know that
means you can’t sleep with other women, right? No one night stands. No fuck
buddies. It’s just you and one lady, unless she’s polyamorous.”
“I can do faithful. I found
it easy enough when I was with Paige, I’m a faithful guy.”
“Wow, what an achievement? What
was it with Paige?
Three whole months?”
Her lips shift
into a sassy smirk. I smile to keep it light, but I’m aware now that she
doesn’t rate me as trust worthy. That also means she doesn’t rate me as a
boyfriend.
For her.
That is an opinion I will change,
she is so very wrong about me where relationships are concerned.
I’m going with another
tactic.
“Since we’re on the topic of
relationships, what happened with Nick?”
“It’s complicated.”
She sighs in deliberation. “I’m not a commitment-phobe,” she quickly tacks on,
pointing her forefinger at me. There’s no anger, only jest, which is good.
“I don’t think you are. He
obviously wasn’t right for you. I don’t understand how you go for over seven
years in a complicated relationship. In every other aspect of your life you
seem to be in full control and so certain.”
“It’s hard to explain. I did
love him, in some ways I still do. We had a really good thing and we were
close.” This doesn’t tell me why she couldn’t commit to him. Talking about Nick
this way only makes me think she should’ve been able to. Her words and her
actions, during her years with him, always contradicted each other. I don’t
understand it and this is why I chose not to tell her how I feel. I don’t think
she knows what she wants.
“What is it you want? Do you
even know?” I’m holding her gaze, aware of how serious my expression is. I
didn’t intend on being intense, but this is something I do need to know. I’m
not up for being a rebound guy, or getting into a messy relationship, so I need
to know where her head is at.
Otherwise this entire
conversation is pointless.
“I know
exactly
what
I want, Joe. My sister married her soul mate, my mom and dad did, grandma and
grandpa did, even Su and Saffron did theirs. I want the same thing. I loved
Nick, but it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t my soul mate.” She sighs heavy, her
eyebrows pulling tight. “It always seemed like such a simple thing to want,
like my God given right. Turns out it’s not so easy after all.” She goes
silent, thoughtful, her gaze lowered.
That statement was
unexpected. I’ve never heard her talk that way before, about soul mates, yet,
I’ve always thought of her as mine.
At least I can understand
her better now, but where exactly does that leave me?
“I know it probably sounds terrible,
like I played him. I didn’t, I just handled it all wrong. I should’ve let him
go a long time ago.” She falls quiet again, looking down at her hands in her
lap. I can’t help but feel there’s more she wants to say. I’d give anything to
know what she’s thinking about.
She glances at me and then
looks up to the night sky. Closing her eyes, she exhales.
So damn
beautiful.
For the first time in all
the years I’ve known her, I don’t stop myself from doing what I want to do
right now.
I move toward her.
Soft, warm lips press against mine. He’s kissing me.
My eyelids fly open, I pull away. Joe cups the back of my head with his hand,
bringing my face to his. As stunned as I am, I can’t pull away again.
I want more.
I open up for him, the tips
of our tongues connect and heat surges through me at the speed of lightning.
Overcome, a moan of need escapes me. Our kiss rapidly becomes greedy and
passionate, like two people who’ve been starved of each other. Joe has a firm
grasp on the back of my hair and his other arm is around my waist, holding me
tight to him. I fit into his lustful, possessive embrace. His skin is on fire,
it feels smooth and firm, but so hot. I can feel him everywhere, consuming me,
I almost can’t breathe. This is amazing, overwhelming. His mouth tastes of
newness, freshness and beer mingled together. His tongue caresses mine, deeply,
thoroughly.
Oh, my God, I’m kissing Joe!
Yes, yes, yes, he is definitely a good kisser. Too good, I will regret this.
Before I know it, we’re no
longer sitting up facing each other. I’m flat on my back with Joe on top of me,
one of his legs between both of mine, his erection pressing against my hip.
Erection! What.
The.
Fuck. Oh, oh wow
.
I’ve never
experienced so much passion in a man before and– holy fuck, my shirt is off.
What? How did that happen? Maybe drunken sex, too? I start to moan, gripping
his hair with my fingers and thrusting my pelvis against his.
No, no, no.
Reluctant and overwhelmed, I
break our contact by turning my face to the side. I’m gasping for air, I feel
as though I’ve been held under water for too long. “God, Joe,” I just about
manage to say. “We can’t do this,” I pant.
“Why?”
Kisses start dancing along
my jaw. Shit, shit, shit.