I’m lying back on the sofa
with a bunch of cushions under my head and my feet resting on Nick’s lap. He’s
stroking one of my legs, from the knee down. Su and Zack preferred the option
of cushions and comforters on the floor. Uninterested in the entertainment, I
decide to admire Nick’s profile. My position is angled partially in the
direction of the TV, to the right of me, but my gaze is aimed at him.
His wispy light brown hair
is darkened to almost black by the limited light. Just the flickers from the
screen are illuminating the room, giving enough of a glow to enhance the
structure and lines of his gorgeous face, a face so intent on those flesh
eating bastards. His sexy, but intimidating eyes are also dampened by the
darkness. In daylight, they’re smoky-gray and full of certainty.
I love looking at Nick. On
first impressions, he seemed arrogant. Hot, but arrogant. He’s confident, but
can appear overly so and that initially hid everything else about him. He’s the
type of person you have to get to know before forming a solid opinion of him.
Within minutes of speaking to him, for the first time, I liked him. We’ve been
an item ever since our first date. Beneath the hard exterior, there’s so much
more to him, and now I find that apparent arrogance sexy more than anything
else. Falling for Nick was inevitable; he’s a fabulous boyfriend, fun, loving,
protective and trustworthy.
He catches me watching him.
He must have sensed my stare. “What?” he mouths, without a sound escaping him.
“Nothing,” I whisper back,
and turn my head in the direction of the box.
Temporarily.
As soon as he returns his attention to the movie, I switch my focus back to
him.
It’s not long before he’s aware
of me again. I smile, fighting back my chuckle. A humored grin curving his
lips, Nick shifts from his seated position, at the end of the couch, to lie
alongside me. I turn onto my side, to face him, mirroring him. Slipping my
finger tips under the hem of his black T-shirt, I make contact with his warm
flesh, just above the buckle of his belt. There’s a light dusting of soft hair
there, which I tease. His hand moves to rest on my butt, his thumb stroking.
Every time Nick touches me it excites me.
Looking into each other’s
eyes, only a few inches between our faces, I breathe in his masculine smelling
cologne, focusing on his scent to help me block out the annoying female screams
coming from behind me. Moving closer, our lips connect, and I open up for him.
His warm breath fills my mouth and the tip of his tongue meets mine, slowly
stroking in the sensual, expert way he does.
Running my palm over the
smooth ripples of his perfect abs, I trace his flesh all the way up to his
chest and fondle the soft scatter of hair. With a firm grip on my ass, he pulls
my pelvis close to his, and now I can feel how hard he is through his jeans.
His denim and my short skirt separate us at the moment, and I want our clothes
to disappear.
I lift and drape my top leg over
his hip and bring my hand down to the zipper of his pants. I lower it. Sneaking
in through the opening, I take hold of his hard, cotton-covered shaft. I’m
tempted to have sex with him right here, even with my friends stretched out on
the floor a few feet away from us, but I’m all too aware that my mom and dad
could arrive home at any point. I can imagine them walking into the living room
to find their daughter on the sofa with her boyfriend between her wide-open
thighs, giving it to her. That’s definitely not something I want my parents to
see. How inconvenient that my house was the only free one tonight?
Before common sense
solidifies in my brain, and as I’m just about to release my grip, Nick’s
fingers find their way into my panties. His hands have a roughness to their
texture, from all the motocross he does, but his experienced touch is gentle. I
like the contrast. Teasing my entrance with a finger tip, I know he’s finding
me wet and I know that drives him insane. To say he turns me on is an understatement.
As he pushes into me, I pop
his buttons and release him from his black boxer briefs, his pre-come sticking
to my palm as I grasp the head of his cock. I stroke his thick shaft firmly, up
and down. He adds a second finger inside me, pushing both in as deep as he can
in this position. I really want him to fuck me now. That desire has me gripping
him harder, stroking firmer. His breathing deepens and he thrusts into me with
more vigor—
“Jesus, you two,
get
a room already,” Su calls out to us. We’re still kissing
and touching and ignore her. The volume of the TV goes up, surrounding us with
what sounds like running footsteps up a flight of stairs.
I can’t take Nick all the
way to climax, not with the kind of mess it would make, but it’s not stopping
him from taking me there. His caress over my clit pushes me. I nestle my face
against his neck, my eyes closed tightly and my bottom lip caught between my
teeth, and suppress my moans as the slow orgasmic waves wash over me.
Immediately, Nick captures my mouth in a deep kiss.
Not only do I love and trust this hot man of mine, but physically we’re so
right together. Nick is my Mr. Perfect!
****
Not being old enough to buy alcohol, Su and I got Zack
to purchase us a bottle we could take to the party. When we were in BlackArt,
Su learned that Adam and Joe’s favorite liquor is Jack Daniel’s. We wanted to
bring something, so that’s what we got.
I also decided on impulse to
make my baby cakes; mini cupcakes in various colors, with different flavored
cream toppings. A little girly, yes, but honestly, I didn’t see why not. All
birthday celebrations I go to get my home-baked treats, even twenty-three and
twenty-four year old men it turns out. I made one hundred of them, and two
special extras for the birthday boys, throughout the morning and afternoon.
Su and I arrive, carrying
four loaded trays each and the bottle of Jack. As we step out of the elevator,
I hear music coming from the open front door at the end of the hall.
U-Turn
by
Usher
is playing, and I am in the mood, for sure.
Two men are standing outside
Joe and Adam’s condo, they’re talking and laughing. I’ve never seen them
before, but somehow I know who they’ll be. Which one is which? I don’t know, at
least, not until the strawberry-blond one looks our way.
“Girls, you can find the two
year
old's
birthday party two floors down.” Grinning
like the Cheshire cat, this has got to be Gerard.
“I’m not so sure about
that,” I reply, “looking at you, I’m pretty certain this is the two year
old’s
party. Either that or you do a damn good impression
of one.”
“Pinky, that’s not nice,” he
replies, placing his palm over his heart, faking offense.
“You must be Gerard.” I
switch my focus to the other guy and smile. “You must be Dane, the sensible
one?”
He blows out a straight line
of cigarette smoke, off to the side. “Hi,” he says, with his lips turning up at
the corners in welcome.
I already like him; he has a
nice energy about him. And, looking at him, all I can think is
wow!
He
has skin the color of cocoa and stunning hazel eyes. The gold stud in the right
side of his nose totally works, too. “I love your dreadlocks,” I say to him, as
I trail their length all the way down to the waistband of his jeans. They’re
slender and gathered into a low ponytail, bound by a single lock wrapped around
them.
“Thanks. I like your hair,
too.” Just like Joe and Adam, Dane has tattoos covering both of his lean,
muscular arms, exposed by the white T-shirt he’s wearing beneath a black and
gray vest.
Gerard doesn’t appear to be
like any of them. There’s no denying he’s handsome, and he looks good in the
cobalt button-down shirt and black pants he’s wearing, but he isn’t as … raw as
his friends, and I feel certain he isn’t inked, either. But he’s definitely the
crazy one. I can see it in his playful grin, which hints at wicked behavior,
and equally mischievous eyes, the color of a cloudless sky.
“You brought cakes,” Dane
says, offering the same sweet smile he greeted us with.
“I made them, every last one
of them.” I am gloating, yes, but only because this is the most I’ve baked in
one day.
“Wow, there’s a
hella
those thangs there. You must be Callie?” he says to me. “And you must be Su?”
His stare moves to her, as he stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray he’s
holding. He exhales his final breath of smoke.
I have no idea how he
guessed our identities, but we beam and in unison reply, “That’s right.”
Already, I feel comfortable here and I’m yet to enter the condo.
Before I get a chance to say
anything else, a woman appears at the door. “Hello,” she says. Her skin is the
same tone as Dane’s and her short-cropped hair is dyed platinum-blonde. She’s
around an inch taller than me in our, almost identical, stiletto boots. Though
I don’t know her, I can tell whose sister she is; they look alike, only her
eyes are the shade of milk chocolate, instead of hazel. I also recall that
Dane’s sister is Adam’s girlfriend.
In this moment, they all
fall into place, and being here feels great.
The condo is full of people I know from the local area
and Hillsborough. Music, selected by saffron, plays loud enough to demand extra
volume to your voice if you want to talk. I’m standing at the breakfast bar,
laden with all kinds of liquor, with my buddy, A.J. The atmosphere, tonight, is
awesome.
I happen to glance over at
the front door and notice Callie and Su chatting to Gerard, Dane and Saffron. I
don’t know how long they’ve been there, but they’re all laughing and talking
like they’re well acquainted.
The ruffled, short black
skirt Callie’s wearing, with high heel ankle boots, makes my mouth water.
Visions hit me like a flash; running my tongue up those smooth, sexy legs, all
the way to her panties and beyond. The girl is dangerous and she doesn’t even
know it. That I find very attractive.
Alyssa, the chick I have a
non-exclusive something going on with, is on vacation, so talking to Callie
tonight will be easy. Even though there’s no commitment between Alyssa and me,
I wouldn’t disrespect her by getting to know someone else right under her nose.
I finish up with A.J. and
head over.
Callie sees my approach.
“Hey, happy birthday for Wednesday,” she says, with that smile of hers adding
further charm to her already cute tone.
“Happy birthday, Joe,” Su
says.
“Thanks. What’s all this?” I
ask, peering down and pointing toward the trays Callie’s holding.
“Can you believe she made
those? Every last one,” Dane says, sounding impressed.
I look at him and then
Callie. “You baked these?”
“I did. All birthday parties
need to have birthday cake, no matter the age of the person or persons. These
are my baby cakes.” She beams. I like that detail. What eighteen year old
female would make “baby cakes” for two grown men
and
call them by that
name? I like that she doesn’t care, she just did what she wanted to do.
Lifting the lid, I take a
closer inspection. A rainbow of colors and edible decorations fill the
container, and I slowly inhale the sweetness of them, still so fresh smelling.
And what do you know. Callie is just like her baby cakes; pretty to look at,
sweet smelling and so deliciously tempting. I want to taste her, every single
inch of her.
Raising my gaze to her eyes,
I’m struck again by something, just like that first day in BlackArt. Right now,
I am one hundred percent certain that I have to have this baby cake. I want her
to the point it’s almost overpowering.
What the fuck is this?
I turn my attention to
Gerard and Dane. “Didn’t you guys think it might be polite to offer the young
ladies a hand with these?”
“Shit, sorry,” Gerard says,
reaching out to assist Su. “Got all carried away with the conversation.”
I take Callie’s, and we head
in and lay them out in the open kitchen. My partying guests seem surprised, but
pleased. In a matter of minutes most of the trays are empty, and now I’m taken
aback, again, by the bottle of Jack. Is there nothing about this girl that
won’t impress me? It really does seem like she’s been sent from heaven. I just
don’t know why I can’t have her.
Su’s up dancing with
Saffron, and Callie’s here at the breakfast bar with me, she’s drinking a
margarita. We’re alone. Obviously we’re not totally alone, but we’re the only
two here. I just noticed she’s changed her nose stud to a thin silver hoop.
It’s damn strange that I actually want to kiss her nose.
This is a perfect
opportunity to talk to her on her own. I get in close enough to her ear, so she
can hear me over the music. “Do ya wanna come out on to the balcony?” She
smells of apples. It always seems to be a fruity scent, definitely a body wash.
She nods in answer, and I
lead the way.
We sit under the outdoor
heater, on the love seat. Callie’s sitting all sexy and lady-like, with one leg
crossed over the other, her cocktail in her hand and resting on her thigh. I
relax back on the seat, keeping a few inches between us, though every part of
me is screaming to pull her closer. “You and Su seem close. How did you become
friends?” I want to know as much as I possibly can about her.