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He bites back a smile as he tosses the strap over him and holds the guitar. “I’ll play for you, if you’ll play for me.”
“Sure,” I shrug. “I’ll play a song next.”
“Nope.” He pops the ‘p.’ “I want you to play that sweet pussy.” He sticks the guitar between his lips and holds it there while he tunes the guitar. Watching him do all this shirtless has me practically salivating. Instead of answering him, I stand so I can shimmy out of my shorts and lace panties.
I sit back down in front of him with my legs spread giving him a clear view. “You’re not playing… ” I taunt in a sing song voice.
“Neither are you.”
“You set the tempo. I’ll follow your rhythm.”
He begins strumming the guitar and I toss my head back with a laugh when I realize what he’s playing. Cruz chuckles and says, “It sounds different on acoustic, okay?”
“You know this is the song to get me going.” And him playing it… while watching me... I’m not going to last.
I watch his fingers and match their speed over my clit. My wetness coating my skin, making my fingers glide as easily and as fluidly as his are moving along the guitar. His hungry eyes follow my every movement. He picks up the typo, his fingers moving furiously as his teeth sink into his bottom lip. My breathing is becoming labored.
“Cruz…”
“That’s right. Look at me, baby.”
“I need you… I want to come on your fingers.”
“Just a little more.” He plays faster.
“Cruz, I can’t.” Him watching me while playing the guitar is so erotic that I don’t know how much longer I’ll last.
“Hold it.” He demands as he holds out the note. “Hold it,” he growls as if he knows I’m about to snap at any moment. I keep my hand cupping myself without moving. My hip muscles twitching with the need to move. The throbbing between my legs is borderline painful. Then he begins to play again and I sigh in relief. I’m so close. My eyelids have become too heavy with lust and wanton need. But as soon as my eyes close the music stops abruptly. Cruz swats my hand away, and replaces it with his own.
But it’s not enough. I want all of him. “I need more. Please.”
With a curse, he gathers me in his arms and pushing himself inside me in one swift thrust. “Give it to me, Journi. Let go and let me have your sweet orgasm. God. So fucking wet and tight. That’s it. Fuck.”
I give it to him. I give him all I have to give, plus all of me, and then I cling to him until I feel his cock pulsing inside of me. Our eyes find each other, and I’m overcome with emotion.
“I don’t want this weekend to end,” I tell him.
“It doesn’t have to.” I roll my eyes, because he knows I’ll have to leave. I can’t walk away from my father’s guitar store. His work is here. Are we destined for a permanent long distance romance? I’m not writing us off, because for him, I’d make it work.
Cruz continues, “I’m finished with my residency. I could come to you. Move there and find work. We can take it slow at first, but you should know that I want forever.”
“Forever? As in happily ever after?” I say it teasingly but my heart beating rapidly with nerves. I feel hope and fear. This is could be it… the real thing.
“If we spent every night sharing a sleeping bag together, it really would be.” He’s not wrong. I’d love to end every day gazing at the stars with Cruz Bryce. When he doesn’t say anymore on it, I realize he’s waiting for my answer.
“Then let’s give it a try. Nothing has gone as expected between the two of us so far, so who knows how far into the danger zone we’ll end up.”
Epilogue
Journi
It’s been three years since I shoved a cucumber up my vagina and had to go to the emergency room to have it removed by an outrageously handsome ER doctor. That weekend turned out to not only be the most humiliating but the best one of my life. He started out as the forbidden fruit. Off-limits. Now, we’re back at the cabin standing before our loved ones as the new Mr. and Mrs. Bryce.
After our small ceremony, we spent the night in a sleeping bag under the stars. Now we’re standing in front of our honeymoon suite in the Florida Keys.
A little chuckle escapes me when I notice our hotel room number is 102.
“That must be our lucky number. It’s the same as the cabin,” I tell him.
