To Catch a Falling Star (33 page)

Tarry swiftly snatches off his shirt and pushes his jeans down. He is going commando and his erection springs free. He is rock hard. I bite my lower lip. I turn the water on, setting it on hot. I look at Tarry and remove my bra and panties. I step under the scalding stream and gaze at him invitingly.

Never breaking eye contact, Tarry steps in. He is so intent and delectable standing in the nude. This man is handsome. No, he is strikingly, perfectly, and irrevocably handsome. My hungry eyes scan his chiseled muscles. His workouts are showing. I want to lick his chest. I grab the soap and hold it tightly to conceal my trembling hands. I breathe in deeply. It’s a vain attempt to rein in my desire.

Maintaining eye contact, I glide the soap over my chest slowly and what I hope is seductively. My nipples are hard and sensitive. The smooth texture of the soap makes me moan lowly. Tarry must hear me, because his breath catches. I continue to soap my chest and stomach. Tarry’s eyes don’t leave mine and his pupils are dilated. I decide to wash my pussy. Yeah, I think I’m panting a little.

The moment the soap touches my folds I see Tarry swallowing hard. But he never breaks eye contact.

I wonder if all the courage inside me sprouts from the changes I’ve forced into myself lately. But, no, in reality, we don’t change all that much. We evolve and our true self gets either magnified or atrophied. In essence, I’ve never been more myself than during the last months.

With courage coursing through my veins, I grab Tarry’s hand and bring it to my breast. For the first time since we got under the water, Tarry closes his lids and breaks eye contact. He takes a deep, ragged breath. When he opens his eyes, they are gray as a stormy twilight sky.

Without removing his hand, he says, “Mel, if you want me to touch you, I need to hear you say it.” His voice is sultry and haunting.

“Please, Tarry, I need your touch.”

“Do you
need
it?” His brows knit together.

“I need it because I want it so badly,” I say.

Tarry’s eyes pierce through me. His thumb rolls over my nipple. All the muscles of my core tighten. Tarry’s tongue glides over his lips. He reaches my other breast. I arch slightly, hungry for his touch.

Tarry lowers his head and captures my nipple in his mouth. He strokes his tongue, circling it lightly and teasingly, and then he sucks it. Hard. I moan. His hand pinches my other nipple, elongating it and squeezing my breast. My legs weaken and my body trembles.

Tarry swiftly turns me, pinning me against the wet, cold tiles. He ravishes my skin, sucking and kissing his way up my neck, leaving a trail of fire. I squirm. My breath hikes. There is a vast void inside me I need urgently for him to fill. His lips find mine. His mouth, warm and minty, ravishes mine. His body presses against me.

Unabashedly, I reach for his erection. His body shudders and I can feel his desire matches mine.

“Oh, Melody,” he breathes in my ear. His teeth roughly scrape my earlobe.

My hand moves around his shaft. It’s soft and hard. I want to taste him, but I want him inside me. There seems not to be enough of him, enough time to fill my desperate need.

“Not here, I want you under me, in your bed,” he says possessively.

“Yes,” I reply, surrendering to his alluring, yet dominating voice.

Tarry shuts off the faucet, he moves fast. He soars out of the tub and grabs a towel. He turns to me and wraps it around my body. Without a word, he sweeps me off my feet and strides to the bedroom.

He places me in front of my bed, gathers the towel, and dries my body. He pats his own body briefly and tosses the towel on the floor.

“Tell me what you want, Melody,” he commands with a husky voice.

“I want you to take me.”

“No running away after,” he says.

“No running away,” I repeat.

He approaches me, his hands cups either side of my face. “Do you know what you do to me; do you know how much I want you?” He kisses me again. The kiss is urgent, but gentle. Scorching but soothing. Lustful but loving. I grab his shoulder so I don’t fall.

Tarry lowers me to the bed. Lying down, I look at the six feet of him standing before me, eating me with his eyes. He breathes hard. I grin internally that I shake him a little. He continues to ravish my body with his starving eyes.

“Tarry, please,” I say.

“No, love. This is going to be my way, my pace. I will savor every second with you, brand every inch of your skin with my tongue.” He runs his fingers through his hair, combing it back.

As if possible, my breathing becomes faster.

His eyes languidly scan my body. Instead of feeling self-conscious, I feel sexy and empowered. I can see he is holding back.

“I’m gonna make love with you, Melody. I’ll mark the inside of you. You won’t run away again.” His brows knit together. “Ever,” he says with the finality of a dropping guillotine.

He circles the bed. I follow him with my eyes. I’m panting. Between my legs burns. My entire body trembles in torment and anticipation.

He probes the foot of the bed. His calloused index finger glides on the arch of my foot. His tongue strokes the place his finger touched. I’m on fire. A trail of flames is left where his mouth touches. He spreads my legs open and settles near my feet. I feel exposed and vulnerable. He holds up my ankle and his mouth trails kisses, creating his own little map up to my thighs. I touch my breast, more because I need something to do to avoid an implosion.

Tarry stops. “Your skin tastes so much better than all my fantasies combined.”

His lips move to my other foot. He bites the arch. It sends a sharp pain with direct contact to my groin. Jeez, no wonder he has the reputation. I tell my mind to shut the hell up. This is not the time to think of that part of the deal. I want to believe I’m the only woman he ever made feel this special. I don’t care how untruthful it is.

He continues his pilgrimage up to my other thigh. Then, again, he stops. His eyes search mine. “Do you want me, Melody?”

“Yes, Tarry, please.” I don’t recognize my voice.

“Good girl,” he says.

He sprawls his long palms on my inner thighs and spreads me open. “So fucking beautiful,” he says before his mouth devours the most sensitive part of my body.

An animalistic moan escapes my throat. My fingers, with a life of their own, grip his hair and pull his face against my core. His hand grabs my ass and squeezes hard. He sucks and thrusts his tongue. His finger slides inside me with ease. I’m soaking.

“Tarry, please,” I cry. “Please, I need you. Now.”

He ignores me and inserts a second finger inside me. Slowly he thrusts in and out, stirring a tension. I moan as he swirls his tongue on my clit and intensifies the speed of his fingers. I feel my muscles clenching, begging for release. I’m at the edge and am about to fall. It feels so good, so close. He stops.

I growl in complaint. Tarry now hovers over me. His eyes pierce mine. He said his tongue was going to brand me. He was wrong. His eyes are branding me. I know at this moment, I’ll never be anyone else’s. I’m not naïve to put a claim on him. I know I’m his thrill during the dull period of rehab. But in spite of the crude reality, I’m his.

“Tell me you want me, Melody.”

“I want you, Tarry,” I say without hesitation.

His lips cover mine and he kisses me deeply. He positions himself and thrusts inside me. He is gentle, but demanding.

“My Melody,” he growls.

Earlier he said he would mark me. He has marked me for life. I’ll never be with anyone else. Until the end of my days, I’m spoiled for any other man.

“Yours,” I say before I can put a filter to my mouth.

“So fucking tight, but so wet and ready for my cock.” For once, I love the dirty words from his mouth.

“Can you feel me, Melody?” He rolls his hips.

“Answer me,” he commands. Oh, I love this bossy side of him.

“Yes, I feel every bit of you, baby.”

He seizes my mouth again with urgency. I want to retain this moment. How can I keep this moment from fleeing?

My hips synchronize with his. We are lost in moans and whispers. Tarry seems to delay his own pleasure for the sake of the moment.

I feel a pressure building inside me. My hips meet his, fiercely. My confused body cries, demanding a release I know is coming, but it also wants to continue to ride this wave of pleasure. I feel lost in space. There is no gravity holding me down. There is Tarry and there is the carnal feeling inside the core of my being.

Tarry intensifies the speed. “Come for me, love, come with me, I need you.” He breathes hard in my ear. “Give it to me, Melody,” he growls and thrusts harder, faster. It undoes me. My body succumbs. A strong shudder of pleasure runs through my body. I cry loudly and my nails dig in the skin of his back. I go limp. But Tarry moves faster and more fiercely.

“My Melody,” he says with an angst-ridden growl. His body shudders and I feel his release. His body goes limp on top of me.

We stay with our bodies entwined as our breathing goes back to normal.

A few minutes pass. Tarry turns on his side and searches my eyes. I can’t bring myself to say anything.

I’M INSECURE. MEL brushes my hair away from my face. Her fingers linger over my beard.

“You need a shave,” she says.

I look at her, puzzled. I guess that’s not what one hopes to hear after having mind-blowing sex and an out-of-body orgasm.

“Can I shave you?” she asks.

“Yeah, um, sure,” I say, covering her hand with mine.

Now that the lust is satisfied, I fear she might bolt. Shyly, she inches closer to me. I let out a long breath, wrap my arms around her, and pull her closer.

She snuggles to my chest and inhales deeply.

“You have a heady male scent,” she murmurs, her breath tickling my chest.

“Huh?”

“Your smell, when you don’t smoke, it’s so inviting,” she says.

“Is that so?” I ask. I don’t mean to be redundant, but yeah, I grin like a fucking pussy at the compliment.

“Yeah, it’s intoxicating, but the smell of tobacco disguises your pure, natural scent.”

I try to process what she is saying. I never know what to say regarding Mel. I don’t want her to get away from me. Lying on her bed and sharing this intimate moment is a high like no other.

“Go on a date with me?” I ask on a whim.

She is silent. Oh, no. Did I just screw this, again?

“Tarry, I, um, I don’t want to pressure you into anything,” she finally says.

“What you mean?” I hate the neediness on my voice.

“Can’t we just have this?” She points her finger in between us.

“You mean fuck buddies?” I ask.

“Jeez, Tarry, that’s not what I meant.” She sits on the edge of the bed. She gets up and I fasten her waist with my hands and pull her back to me.

“Please, stay,” I say.

“I just… I need to consider Ella. She changes the dynamic of any possible relationship I have. You being a public figure aggravates everything. I don’t want that around her, Tarry, that’s all,” she says.

“I do understand,” I say, but inside I wonder if she is ashamed to be seen with me. Worse, I wonder if she just wants a fling with me. I’ve never had a sober relationship with anyone, especially one where I’m truly interested in the person.

“So, can I?” she pleads.

“What?”

“Shave you?”

“Only if you go on a date with me. And I promise to make it low-key and private.”

“Okay.” She smiles and my fucking heart shatters.

“Great, I get to hold on to my prize card.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve won a bet, remember? If all failed, I would’ve used it to coax you.” I grin.

“Bastard ass, I’ll be right back,” she says and before she leaves, she kisses me.

Turning on my back, I cross my hands behind my head. Her chamomile fragrance lingers on the pillowcase and makes me dizzy.

I want to go piss, but I won’t risk breaking the harmony of the moment. I sigh deeply, like a fucking pussy. Vainly, I try to wipe the satisfied expression certainly plastered on my face. But, the truth is, I can’t deny or hide the thrill from riding this wave.