Page 40 of View With Your Heart

+ + +

Gavin drives us the short distance to his place on the inner lake, and we climb the three flights to his rental. My heart hammers in my chest as nerves eat at me. I haven’t purposely been alone with a man in years.

After we enter his place, Gavin casually drops his keys on the kitchen counter that separates the kitchen from the living room. He tosses his coat on the couch and suggests he change. As I’m wearing a casual dress I wore throughout the day while I worked, I only slip off my shoes. Gavin walks to the balcony doors first, opening them wide despite the air conditioning.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

I step outside to the balcony, enjoying the heightened breeze and the onset of a summer night. A change is coming, and I feel it in the air temperature. Fall will be here too soon. A new school year will begin for Gee. A seasonal shift will happen in TeasMe! Life will go on, and Gavin will be gone again.

With a beer in hand, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, he finds me on the balcony. I haven’t seen him up close in casual attire since his arrival, and my mouth fights the jaw drop. Thrown back thirteen years, he looks more like a college grad than a polished filmmaker.

“Want one? Or we can share this? I wasn’t expecting company, so I don’t have the makings for a margarita,” he teases.

“I don’t need another, or I can’t be held responsible for my actions.” It’s flirty, sassy, and provoking, and I instantly want to take it back because I shouldn’t be flirting with Gavin. Warning bells have been ringing all night, and I keep suppressing the sound. Especially when Gavin touches me, like when he takes my hand and leads me to a lounger on the balcony.

“I won’t hold you responsible for any poor decisions,” he teases as he sits on the lounger, spreading his legs over the edges of the elongated seat. He pats the space between his thighs. “I’ll take full responsibility for being bad.”

“Gavin,” I groan, turning to notice a regular outdoor chair nearby and a small side table beside it. His hand still holds mine, and he squeezes my fingers.

“Sit with me, Candy.” The sound of his voice turns back the clock even more, and I’m reminded of all the ways Gavin kept me close to him in the back of his truck when we went to field parties or sitting on the couch in Leo’s living room.

I fold before him, trying to keep distance between us, but Gavin isn’t having it, tugging me back so my backside cradles against him.

“Relax,” he whispers as he pulls me by my shoulder to lean against his chest. His fingers work the nape of my neck, and I close my eyes, melting under his touch. His lips come to my neck next. Flinching at how his kiss tickles, he pauses, holding his mouth only an inch from my skin.

“I want to touch you everywhere, Brit, but I won’t push. Just let me kiss you here.” Holding my breath, I don’t respond, but I don’t push him away either, and his mouth returns to the side of my neck.

Gavin was the first to discover the spot on me that could make my knees weak, and he seems to remember the place because he nips at the juncture of my neck and shoulder, causing my head to tip to the side, allowing him more access to my skin. I also arch my back a little, forcing my backside against the budding bulge in his shorts. While his mouth moves over my neck, his fingers massage my shoulder. Caressing over my back with a soothing touch, he spares no inch of skin around my nape. Eventually, his hand cups my chin, turning my head to gain access to my lips.

He slides a hand down the underside of my arm and brings it up and around his neck, wordlessly asking me to hold onto him. We kiss in this position for several minutes, savoring one another, reminiscing in the familiarity from a time long passed.

When the first strike of fireworks rips through the sky, I break from Gavin and look in the general direction of the larger lake. Over the distant trees, a burst of white speckles the sky. The performance enhances the hammering in my chest as Gavin’s fingers slide down my underarm, still pinned around his neck and lower to the side of my breast. The swell aches for his massaging touch there as well, and he does not disappoint, making his move to cover me, squeezing the heaviness.

My head lolls on his shoulder, allowing him to have his way with me as it feels so good. The subtle squeeze. The sharp pinch to my nipple.

“Brit,” he groans in my neck, weighing the mass in his hand. “How long has it been since someone touched you? Since someone made you feel special?” His voice lowers, dropping deep and rough while quiet below my ear. He sucks at the side of my neck, not losing pace with attending my breast.

“It’s been a long time,” I admit, my voice cracking on the thought and fighting off the memories. It’s been three years since Patrick’s death and at least a year before that due to his illness. My eyes close against the reminders.

“Let me be your first,” he whispers.

“You always were,” I remind him, my voice shaky with the admission. Gavin was my first in many ways. First love. First sex. First heartbreak.

His hand coasts down my midsection while the fireworks break through the hushed night. Gavin and I are in our own private alcove of quiet. His breath in my ear is the only sound I hear.

His hand curls between my thighs, spreading my legs a little. My legs were crossed at the ankles, stretched before me, but separating them, he brings one knee to bend. Gavin slowly tugs at the material of my skirt, exposing my skin inch by inch. Once enough leg is uncovered, he wraps a hand under my thigh and tugs my leg upward, forcing me to spread even wider. My heel presses into the lounger as his hand skims along my inner thigh until his fingers brush against the plait of my underwear, already damp with the heat he’s created in me.

He moans into my neck, kissing me under my ear while stroking over my hot center.

“Let me touch you.” He’s asking for more, and I respond by turning my head and taking his mouth with mine. One arm remains up around his neck, and I hold the back of his head, giving him my unspoken answer. I can’t tell him no. I want this too much. My body screams for the relief only he can give me. While still kissing him, his fingers slip under the elastic and meet sensitive skin slick with desire.

I gasp at his touch, breaking the kiss, while Gavin mutters, “So wet. All for me.”

I nod to agree, almost embarrassed at how eager I am for his touch. His fingers slide up and down through the moisture before landing on my clit, and my back bows. A loud hum rumbles up my throat, and Gavin smiles against me. His mouth moves to my shoulder, kissing over it while one finger slides into me.

We collectively moan.

“Feel good, Brit.” I’m not certain if he’s telling me how I feel to him, or how he wants me to feel, or just what feeling to have, but his finger inside me, sliding back and forth, is more than good. It’s incredible. Quickly, he adds a second finger, and my hips begin to rock. My other arm joins the one around Gavin’s neck, holding onto him to keep me tethered to him. My body floats outside itself. With both knees bent and my thighs open wide, resting above his, I grind against the fingers rushing in and out of me. My moans match the light display with sharp bursts and prolonged sizzles until I can’t hold Gavin any longer. My arms fall, hands clutching at the armrests of the lounger.