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I moan and cry with each thrust as Kyle fucks into me, grunting his pleasure in my ear. I wrap both legs around his waist and arch into him, offering up every inch of myself. I bow off the bed, grappling along his back and raking my nails into his hair as my orgasm approaches.
“Does it feel good?” Kyle moans in my ear as our pace picks up and he deepens his thrusts.
“Oh God, it feels too good,” I keen below him. “So good I can’t stand it.”
“Feels so fucking amazing,” he concedes as he rams his pelvis against me harder, our skin slapping, echoing off my walls. “Fuck, are you close? I don’t think I’m going to last,” he warns as my body runs away with mine.
“So close.”
He rolls us so that I’m on top, straddling his waist, then pumps up into me as I ride, my orgasm washing over me in an exquisite wave. Kyle jerks and shudders, gripping on to my hips as if for his life. My high intensifies when I watch him squeeze his eyes shut and clamp his jaw tight. I cry out with my climax, letting my head drop back, my hair tickling my back as Kyle slows beneath me.
“Fuck,” he rumbles as I collapse against his chest and his arms come around me. His skin is damp with sweat, his chest heaving along with mine.
“I…” I puff out, “want to do that again. As soon as possible.”
* * *
Kyle
When morning comes, I have no strength left. Gwen and I wore each other out, each of the four rounds hotter and sweeter than the last. It was hands down the best sex of my life. The first two times were urgent and hormonally driven. But as the night bled into the morning, our passion slowed. Our movements turned tender. There was more holding, caressing, exploring.
When we finally passed out together, she didn’t mind me throwing both an arm and a leg over her as well as laying my head on her shoulder like a needy clinger. When we woke after a short but restful night, we indulged in each other one last time and had coffee together in bed.
Unfortunately, real life calls. I have to get back to the resort to teach another lesson, and she has to get started on editing a new romance.
Wrapped in a blue fuzzy blanket, she walks me to the front door of the apartment building, and we stop on the stoop so I can give her a kiss. This one is soft and lingers a moment before I pull away just in time for the snow to start falling. As I straighten, a snowflake lands on her nose, making her blink, and her face crinkle up in a smile.
“Make a wish before it melts,” I tell her.
She giggles but closes her eyes and hums before the tiny crystal becomes a drop of moisture on the tip of her nose.
“Can I see you tomorrow?” I ask. “We can do another lesson or have drinks at the Silver Lining.”
“Yeah.” She nods with an easy smile. “Drinks after work would be great.”
“It’s a date,” I tell her, giving her one last kiss before heading back to my car.
* * *
For the next couple of weeks, I take plenty of ribbing from Adam, both in the IT office and on the slopes, ranging from how I’m a freaking liar, to pumping me for details, and back to the liar thing again, with a little of “it won’t last” thrown in. I go easy on him. It’s all in good fun, and I know he’s secretly happy for me. And even more jealous.
I’ve given Gwen a couple more lessons, and while she argues that I’m just being nice to her, she’s seriously a natural. She can’t seem to get her head around the idea that even though she walks through life a little clumsily, she can do other things with grace. She’s still a beginner, but the few maneuvers she can do are swift and smooth, unlike the choppiness you normally see from snowboarders at this stage.
We’ve had a few more sleepovers filled with movies marathons and orgasms. She’s gotten really intoLord of the Rings, and I’ve got almost all the John Hughes movies under my belt. We haven’t neglected our time between the sheets either, having earth-shattering sex by the light of my saber.
Since her ex is still gunning for his snowboard under the pretense of wanting her back, we spend most of our time at my place. I won’t allow it to go on much longer before I get possessive and get either the local police or my fist involved. I’d have to take a few boxing lessons for the latter, of course, but it’s been roughly three weeks. While some might consider that a bit soon, I’m feeling pretty locked in and ready to stake my claim. As far as I’m concerned, Gwen is my girlfriend, and while we haven’t made that official, I’m inching closer to having the right to usher her troublemaking ex out of our lives.
I’m joining the boys for one or two rounds of Marvel trivia at the Silver Lining tonight before Gwen meets me there. I lock my apartment door and head to my car, a pep in my step, thinking about seeing my girl tonight. Just as I’m sliding into the driver’s seat, my phone vibrates with a text, and the awkward, middle-schooler who still lives inside me frets that it’s Gwen canceling.
When I see the name on the screen, I’m equally relieved and downtrodden.
Carly:I deal like super losers! He still hung like a uptight one he ex!
My younger half sister is having boy problems, it seems. And if the illegibility of her text is anything to go by, she’s self-medicating at the bar.
Carly:I suppose a message! With you coming hang up with me?
Apparently, she’s such a mess, and she wants me to come hang out with her. She’s clearly tossed and shouldn’t be alone, so I don’t have much choice.
