Remember to Breathe (Book One of the True Desires Series) (10 page)

She opens the door and sees, as she suspected, that he does not have a corkscrew.

“Liar!” she shouts. “But what's this for?” She asks, holding up a bottle of club soda.

“I brought it because I  had a feeling that things were going to get messy,” he says, pointing to a teardrop shaped blotch of wine above her navel. He opens it and pours a little down the front of her dress.“Oops,” he says.

She shivers. “You made me wet,” she says softly, while looking into his eyes and placing her hands on his chest. “Hmm. You're good.   At that,” Allie says. “My husband stood me up tonight. He . He's never coming back. Ever.   He doesn't love me. Gina thinks he's gay.  Maybe she's   right.” She moves closer to him and closes her eyes. Her nose almost touches his. Her lips open slightly, awaiting his kiss. Her eyes well. She hiccups again and laughs, wiping away a tear. He whispers into her ear.

“Let's get you out of that dress.”

“Ha! I bet you're just saying that 'cause you want me to get out of my dress.” She sniffles and wipes her eyes. He puts his hands on her waist and pulls her to him.

He slides his hands down to the bottom of her dress and pauses before pinching the cloth in his hands and slowly pulling it up and off of her, revealing her little thong and pale, naked flesh. The dress messed up her hair which she tries blowing out of her face. Small but perky breasts. She's slender but not without curves. Her eyes are closed and her smile is wide. She feels around for his waist, then runs a hand down over the massive bulge in his pants and her smile gets even bigger.  He takes her hands and places them around his shoulders.

“Not now. You've been drinking. A lot.  As you can tell, you've got me hard as a rock but I'm sorry. I can't do this,” he says.

Allie opens her eyes and blinks, incredulous.

“What do you mean you can't do this? You mean...you mean. You came all the way....all the way here just  to dump water on me and tell me you're not going to fuck me?  You.” She pokes a finger in his chest and hiccups. “Mean. Ha!”   Wha...what happened to you? To us?” Allie giggles and burps and begins swaying. She closes her eyes and soon finds herself floating. Or almost. She's being carried into bed, and soon she feels the softness of her sheets on her skin and Brian's warmth pressing against her backside, the heat behind his clothes straining, begging for release.

Sunlight streams through the cracks between her lavender curtains.  Allie awakens alone. Her head is pounding and her lips are cracked.
Water.

She steps over her dress on the bathroom floor and smirks. 
The best-laid plans...don't get me laid. Probably for the best though.
And then she thinks about Kevin. Though her  hope is fading, she hasn't quite given up on him yet.

As she clasps her bra, she hears a fire alarm go off. On entering the hallway, she smells something burning. “Hello?” she calls out. She  follows the sound and smell into the kitchen where Brian is the middle of a cloud of  smoke. He seems to be trying to wrest something from the toaster. Allie guesses that it's serious because his pants and shirt are rumpled up on the kitchen counter and he  is barefoot in his boxer briefs and undershirt.  She places a chair underneath the alarm, then opens its  battery compartment. The beeping stops.

“That beeping is NOT what I need right now,” she says.

“Here,”  he says, pausing to pour her a glass of water.

“Just like a handsome man, a toaster must be stroked and complimented every now and then or else it will burn down your house,” she says.

“Breakfast!” Brian exclaims. He is holding the blackened piece of toast triumphantly at the end of a fork. “Sorry about the burning. You'll need your energy. See, I have plans for us. ”

“Do you? Do your plans include starting a kitchen fire to lure some beefy firefighters over here?”

“Ooh, let's write that one down for next time!” he says.

Allie looks at him quizzically, then returns his smile.  He pulls her head toward him with his toast-free  hand, stopping her just short of his lips. “I know you'll like it,” he whispers, then gently runs the tip of his pinkie finger halfway up her arm. Tingles race up to her scalp.

“
Oh no,” Allie says.  Brian has led her to her studio. “No. I'm not painting. I just....no,” Allie says.

“Maybe you're just lacking inspiration,” he says. He turns his body and makes his glutes bounce- one then the other and then both at the same time for several seconds.  Allie laughs.

“Okay, you at least have my attention,” she says. Next, he bounces his pecs in time with his glutes. “Getting warmer,” she says. “But if I'm going to be in the mood to paint, we need to address this clothing discrepancy,” she says, alluding to her relatively greater area of exposed skin.

Brian smirks. He begins to lift up his shirt, revealing well defined lower abdominal muscles. Then  he stops as if performing a strip tease.

“Lets keep this going honey,” Allie says. She blushes at the sound of her own words. “I don't have all day.”

“Actually you do. I got into your day planner and crossed everything off.”

“You wouldn't. You don't have the balls.”

“You're right, I didn't look. But lets not make a judgment call on my balls just yet, eh?”

“Fair enough,” Allie says. He removes his shirt and tosses it onto her head. 
Mmm. A classic mesomorph. Ripped but not overly beefy or hairy. Well done,
Allie thinks. But the lighting could be better. She draws some curtains down and turns on a lamp, bringing his muscle tone into sharper relief.
'
Chiseled like a Greek god,' as Gina would say.

“So what you want to do?”  He asks. Allie clears her throat and squints at him with a detached, professional gaze.

“Don't worry about it. You're in my world now, bitch,” she says, grinning. His package  is swelling before her eyes. “There's a five by ten drop cloth in the bottom of the wardrobe behind you,” she says. “Get it out and spread it on the floor, please.”

“I'll spread
you
on the floor,” he says.

“We'll see about that.”

The drop cloth set, Allie goes to a closet and returns with a plastic milk crate full of paints which she overturns beside her desk.  She sets the milk crate upside down in front of him. She steps up on it so they are eye to eye, lip to lip. She kisses him hard and sets her nails into where his forehead meets his scalp, raking them down the back of his neck, over his shoulders and in a wavy spaghetti pattern over his lats.  Allie lets up when she reaches his underwear, sticking her thumbs under the elastic on either side and drawing them down slowly one side after the other. “Well hello,” she says as his ample cock springs from captivity. She runs her tongue from its base to the tip which she takes in her mouth for a brief tease. Brian exhales loudly as she runs her fingers over his package and thighs. She then steps off the milk crate and moves to his legs and feet.

“Here.” Brian says. He sidesteps her and reaches down for a bottle of  latex paint leftover from when Allie ran a face painting booth at an art festival a few summers ago.  He flips the lid open with his thumb, then bends down to grab Allie's hair. He pulls her head back with it before shooting a cool stream of red paint down her neck and between her breasts.

“Oh, so that's how it's going to be!” Allie cries. She rolls away from him to her side and grabs a full, green tube. She pops it open, and sensing him closing in, aims it over her shoulder and squeezes.

“Nice,” he says.  She expects imminent retaliation, but not getting it, she looks back. His left eye has disappeared under a green glob of paint.

“Ha!” Allie rights herself. “Is it in your eye? I mean actually 'in' in?”

“Maybe. But the worst is that I'm afraid of the dark.”

“Here, don't touch.  Let me help.” She jumps into his arms, wraps her legs around his waist and kisses him, then covers up his other eye.

“Is that better?” she asks.

“Much.” Paint oozes down his cheek as though his socket is bleeding green.

“She carefully scoops some paint from his eye with two fingers, using it to underline his opposite eye as though she were readying him for a game of war with schoolchildren. “Okay, try opening it now. Better?”

“No. Still. Can't. See” he says. His eyes are closed and he's swaying and staggering “Losing controlllll Aaaaahhhhh.” Allie tightens her grip on him as they careen toward the far bank of windows.

“No. Stop!”  Allie cries and digs her nails into his flesh. “These aren't the best windows and we could-” Just as she readies herself  for a plunge to their deaths, he stops abruptly and spins around so that her neighbors could see her breasts from their bathroom window if they were looking. “....fall,” she says. His ass is parked on the narrow windowsill. “Just don't lean up against the-” he interrupts her with a frantic, almost violent kiss.

She tries pulling away out of fear that they might tumble through the glass but his embrace is far too powerful and his tongue and lips far too potent. He unclasps her bra, pulls her hair. She moans softly as  his tongue traces a cool path up her neck while his thumb deftly avoids the paint and smooths down her stomach and around to cup her ass. And suddenly he stops.

He's looking up over her shoulder, his eyebrows arch as though he's about to address someone.

Allie sees a new reflection in the glass and stops breathing.

Kevin. Oh no.
Allie prepares to be pushed  through the window. Depending on the physics, he might break her fall. “Kevin, I'm..” She feels his hand on her shoulder, then her cheek. “So sorry,” she says. “But then, you-” He presses a finger to her lips.

“Shhhh,” he says, then sighs. “You'd better be sorry...” She feels a dripping sensation down her back.  Paint. “For starting without
Esteban
,” he says

Brian chuckles.

“What the hell happened to you?” Kevin asks, referring to Brian's green eye.

“What happened to
you
? You were supposed to be here last night,” Brian chides.

“Maybe I was busy saving a certain grocery store from the mistakes of its horny management.”

“Well then, maybe it's a good thing I was able to save a certain woman from the mistakes of her horny husband,” Brian says.

Kevin runs his fingers through her hair and kisses her cheek. “Happy belated. I hope you've been enjoying the first half of your gift.”

He then gives Brian an identical kiss.
No! No! Gina needs to be here to see this. Wait- maybe she is.
She is about to call out to Gina but gasps instead as the window behind Brian gives way and crackles on the yard below.

Fresh air.

Kevin pulls them back from the window and the three burst into laughter.
We are okay. I think. Maybe.
A  gust of wind blows into the room, rattling the sketches Allie had pinned to cork boards. Between the initial shock and the fact that they are tumbling toward the drop cloth laughing hysterically, there is no time for Allie to register any feelings beyond being stunned and excited. 
Sex first, questions later.
Allie and Brian team up to pull off Kevin's shirt, then Allie goes for his belt.

“Looks like I'll soon no longer be wearing the pants in this relationship,” Kevin says. The little emerald flecks in his eyes sparkle and dance.

She had had a few fantasies about threesomes but never thought she'd actually participate in one. And certainly not with Kevin. But how much does she really know him?  Then it hits her:
We are all strangers to one another.

She is melting under a chaos of hands and tongues, lips and limbs. Allie is trying her best to stroke Kevin's cock but the lashing of her clit by Brian's tongue and the magic of his flickering fingers is making it difficult.  His fingers work outside and inside her well enough to override her will, reducing her to a pile of quivers and moans.