Authors: Ashlyn Chase
“It’s not that. I’m not sure I ever want to be that vulnerable. I mean, what if you had a heart attack and died?”
“Just keep yelling until Dottie busts the door down and tells you to shut up.”
Roz laughed. “You’re probably right. Her crazy rules about noise pollution might come in handy.”
“For once.” Konrad tossed the neckties on the floor and said, “Now, where were we?”
“You were going to tie me up.” She chuckled.
He straightened and looked surprised. “I thought you didn’t want me to.”
“Hey, as long as we’re not all alone at a cabin in the wilderness with no one to hear for miles…”
“Let’s skip it. It’s enough to know you trust me that much. But if we do try it sometime, I want you to know you’re perfectly safe with me. Always.”
Roz nodded and gave him an evil grin. “I know that, but are you safe with
me
?” She tried to flip him over, but couldn’t.
He clambered down between her legs, where his mouth found her pussy and teased her folds. She moaned softly. His fingers glided down her thighs and sensitized her everywhere he touched. Every now and then, it tickled, and she couldn’t help giggling. Eventually two of his fingers entered her wet quim.
When his tongue found her clit, she let out a yelp and an “Oh…oh,” but she quieted on a gasp, followed by a trembling moan. She arched, and no matter how she tried to be quiet, her moans grew louder and more frequent as he continued to pleasure her.
His fingers moved faster, insistent, and he latched onto her clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue mercilessly, until she shattered. She cried out in ecstasy. Concentric circles of bliss radiated though her. Her thighs shook in spasms.
“Stop. I can’t take any more!”
He raised his head and grinned at her.
She reached for him. “I want you inside me.”
He sprang onto his knees, his engorged erection sticking straight out. “Oh, yeah. We’ll get to that, but not just yet.”
She groaned.
He inserted two long fingers, pushed them in deep, and reached for her G-spot as she writhed. He dipped his head, took her puckered nipple in his mouth, and suckled. His thumb stroked her clit while he fingered her sensitive G-spot inside, and he didn’t stop until she came in an earth-shattering, fevered, screaming release. The sound echoed all through the room, magnifying. She clamped a hand over her mouth and smothered what was left of her cries.
He looked down at her.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“Hmmm. You don’t look sorry.”
***
She was glowing pink, so ready, so primed, he couldn’t be upset with her for the noise. It was his fault anyway. He should have saved that move for another time, when they knew Dottie wasn’t around. Without saying a word, he reached for a condom from his bedside drawer and rolled it on. Konrad paused in front of her opening and smiled.
She looked up at him and nodded.
He penetrated deep.
She sucked in a breath, clasped the mattress, and arched into him.
“Are you all right?”
“God, yes!” she whimpered. “Fuck me like there’s no tomorrow!”
Hearing her use that word surprised him and turned him on even more. He found his rhythm quickly and thrust in and out, riding her hard. She reached around and clutched his glutes, mating with him intuitively, undulating as if to the beat of drums only the two of them could hear.
Her moans rose in a crescendo until, at last, she bit his shoulder, squeaked, and shook like she was lying on the epicenter of an earthquake.
Surprised, Konrad followed her over the edge and welcomed the blissful sensation, the surge shooting through him, letting go, then finally enjoying each precious ripple and aftershock. Holding one another and panting heavily, neither one moved to uncouple.
Konrad had no desire to jump up and hint that it was time for her to leave, as he often did after having sex with a willing but less significant woman. Making love to Roz was more exhilarating than he could have anticipated. He’d be willing to bet she felt the same way.
Before long, he eased off of her, aware that his weight on her chest might be uncomfortable.
When their breathing finally returned to normal, she let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry about the noise.”
He kissed the warm space between her neck and shoulder. He eyed the spot, and his mouth watered. He knew that someday he’d have to mark her as his, which meant biting her right there. It was ironic that she’d gripped him with her teeth in that same place, as if by instinct.
“I don’t want you to worry. I love it when you really let go.”
“What if someone thinks I’m being attacked?”
“We’ll let Dottie know that if the screams come from anywhere but my apartment or yours, you
are
being attacked, and I
want
her to call the police.” He gave her earlobe a playful nip.
***
Dottie stormed across the hall and pounded on the door to Konrad’s apartment. When no one answered, she bludgeoned it until she heard him call out, “I’m coming!” She thought she heard some snickers.
He threw open the door and stood in his bathrobe, blocking the entrance with his broad shoulders. He had the audacity to smile as if nothing had happened.
“What the hell is going on in there? Are you murdering some poor women?”
“No, I assure you, she’s quite all right.”
“It sounded like the Boston chainsaw massacre over here. I’d like to see for myself that she’s alive and well. Please let me in…if you have nothing to hide.”
“Leave her alone. She’s embarrassed enough.”
“Oh, you’d like me to take your word for it, wouldn’t you? I’m not going anywhere.”
Konrad grumbled and then called over his shoulder, “Roz, honey? Can you say something to Dottie so she knows you’re all right?”
“I’m fine, Dottie,” a high voice called from within the apartment.
“She could be bleeding to death and afraid you’d hurt her more if she said any—”
“Jesus, Dottie, will you quit worrying?”
The higher voice from the other side of the apartment called, “Be right there.”
Konrad didn’t step aside.
“Well? Can I come in, or what? It’s late. I don’t want to disturb the other residents by discussing this in the hall.”
“She’ll be out in a second, and there’s nothing much to discuss.”
“Nothing to discuss? Are you serious?”
Konrad crossed his arms as if daring her to walk past.
Momentarily Roz scurried out to meet them, wearing a sheet wrapped around her, toga style. Her hair fanned out in various directions, thanks to static electricity. “See? I’m perfectly fine.” A blush colored her cheeks.
“Other than the humiliation, that is,” Konrad said scornfully.
“Making sure there isn’t a domestic disturbance going on is more important than anyone’s feelings.”
Konrad leaned forward.
Roz held up one hand as if anticipating a defensive response. “You’re quite right, Dottie. My shouting must have alarmed you, but it had nothing to do with being mistreated. I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
“Well, see that it doesn’t happen again.”
Konrad frowned. “You never want me to satisfy my lover again?”
Roz gasped and her hands flew up to cover her mouth.
Dottie’s eyebrows shot up. “You call that satisfying your lover? It sounded like she was dying in there.”
“That’s why the French call it
la petite morte
.”
“It figures the French would have something to say about it.” Pulling Roz aside, Dottie whispered to her, “I warned you about him, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did. And I’m glad I didn’t listen.”
***
The following morning, Roz gripped Konrad’s hand, hard, yet he barely noticed it. He was busy trying to still his nerves and keep from shaking, and they were only watching the training video.
The virtual plane had already taken off and was ascending to the required twelve thousand, five hundred feet. Wolves didn’t belong in the air. He liked his paws firmly on the ground, yet how much of a wuss would he be if he told his girlfriend he was afraid to skydive? The big bad werewolf scared shitless? No way.
“When in doubt, whip it out.” The instructor’s voiceover caught Konrad’s attention and dragged him back to the moment.
What the hell is he talking about?
“
The reserve chute
,”
Roz answered telepathically.
Fear must be amplifying his thoughts. He’d have to be careful.
The video droned on.
“Many jumpers faced with minor problems such as a broken line or minor canopy damage choose to jettison the questionable parachute and go to their more reliable reserve. So long as the jettison and reserve activation are initiated at a safe altitude, which is a minimum of 1,600 feet, this practice is considered to be very conservative. It’s called a ‘break-away’ or ‘cut-away.’”
Conservative? Cutting your number of parachutes from two to one with no spare? That didn’t sound very conservative to him.
“…the benefits ranging from peace of mind, to avoiding sprains or broken bones incurred when a damaged canopy lands you too fast or too hard, to actually saving your life.”
Saving your life is a benefit? He thought it was a given. Konrad squirmed in his seat.
“Jettisoning an unreliable chute causes it no damage, and it can be instantly reattached later. Most jettisoned canopies are recovered, but with prices for new canopies starting at around $1,500, one lost canopy can be quite a setback for instructors.”
“And I need to know this, why?” he whispered.
“Shh.”
“Once the reserve has been deployed, an FAA-certified parachute rigger must inspect and re-pack it. This service can cost around fifty to seventy-five dollars, sometimes more, and cannot always be performed immediately. It’s not uncommon to see a skydiver moping around the drop zone after a reserve deployment, frustrated because his ‘reserve ride’ has left him grounded, possibly for the rest of the day, while he searches for lost gear and waits while his reserve parachute gets its inspection and repack, called ‘I and R.’
“It’s for that reason that instructors are sometimes reluctant to employ the break-away technique.”
Crap! I sure didn’t need to know that.
And did they have to
pay
for all of that, if the primary chute fails? Konrad knew skydiving was expensive; after all, they’d paid two hundred fifty dollars to jump this once. He hoped they wouldn’t fall in love with it.
Konrad’s finances were already suffering badly. He’d insisted on paying for their full dance courses, plus hospital bills not covered by Roz’s deductible, and a bartending course, followed by damages to the bar. If he didn’t get some legitimate business from the security systems job soon, he’d be in deep shit.
“Most people can now train through an accelerated eight-jump course for about two thousand dollars. That figure can go much higher, depending on options such as wind-tunnel indoor skydiving training, repeat jumps, freefall videos, and the price of fuel.”
Great. More money.
Why did we want to do this again?
“
Because if we love it, we can be trained quickly, and the FAA doesn’t require skydivers to get a license
,”
Roz answered.
Ding, ding. These people who were about to push him out of an airplane might not be licensed?
He wasn’t surprised that his question was strong enough to broadcast itself.
At last the video ended, and so did his enthusiasm.
What kind of temporary insanity had possessed him to try skydiving? Oh yeah,
love.
***
Roz was getting hooked up to her instructor for their tandem ride when the pilot announced he had reached the target elevation.
“Don’t worry about this being your first time,” her instructor shouted over the wind, “because this is my second.” He laughed.
Konrad’s instructor piped up. “I’ve got you both beat. This is my third.” He laughed maniacally. “Only joking. We’ve been doing this for years.”
“
Very funny.
”
Konrad hadn’t seemed happy to discover they each had to jump coupled with an experienced instructor, and that both of them were men.
Roz had never had a jealous boyfriend before. In one way, she liked it, as long as he didn’t act like a jerk or prevent her from doing the things she wanted to do. So far, Konrad had behaved okay.
He stood uncomfortably, as if trying to pretend the plane door wasn’t opening and a wise-cracking guy wasn’t strapped fast to his back. Was he homophobic? Roz almost laughed as she remembered wondering if he was gay, just because he was handsome, buff, and sensitive. He was still mouthwateringly gorgeous, but he looked about as sensitive as a statue at the moment.
“Are you okay, hon?” she yelled over the rushing wind.
He nodded but held onto the strut beside him with white knuckles. It looked like he was perspiring under his padded leather helmet.
“Okay,” her instructor yelled. “Do you remember where the ripcord is?”
They both pointed to it, having been told not to pull it until told to do so. Roz knew the instructor had control if anything went wrong. She just hoped he didn’t have a heart attack and die on her. No, he looked young and healthy.
She
was the one who might have a heart attack. Why did she want to do this again?
“Ladies first. Ready?” her instructor yelled.
She nodded.
“Let’s go, then. We’ll jump on three.” He called out “three!” and pushed her off the platform into thin air.
She shrieked
.
Hearing a loud bellow, rather than actually seeing Konrad, she just knew he had jumped out right behind her. Was he supposed to?
Fighting for breath crowded out thoughts of Konrad. When she finally had her breathing under control, she tried to look over her shoulder. He was right behind them, and his instructor appeared to be praying, his cocky expression replaced by a serious one, and his eyes were closed.