“Get on your knees,” he demands, no time to soak in the afterglow of my orgasm.
I roll over, getting on my hands and knees, and he’s in me. Fingers dig into my hips, as he takes me over and over how he wants—rough and hard. The sounds of him taking me from behind fill my room, his groans penetrating my body and turning me on.
He quickens, slamming into me four times in fast succession then holding me against him as he comes.
“Lay down,” he says, his voice much raspier than before. We both fall to the mattress and I close my eyes, loving the feeling of what we shared. He looks exhausted next to me and I run my fingers through his hair.
Rolling onto my side, I drape my thigh over his leg and get closer, my bare chest against his. I kiss him, then prop my head up as our lips part. Never loving nakedness more than in these moments with him, our bodies ebb and flow together in dips and curves. Two sides of the puzzle come together to form a union that seems protected in perfection and unscathed by life. Here, together, we don’t have pasts that scar us or baggage that weighs us down with burdens and regrets. Here, together, our flawed souls find solace in each other.
Here, together, we make sense.
“I find normal more fascinating than outrageous. I’m surrounded by chaos all the time. Normal is way more interesting.” ~Johnny Outlaw
After three weeks on the road, Dalton returns to L.A. and I jump him the minute he shows up at my door. It isn’t pretty or romantic. I’m just so damn happy to see him. He drives me crazy like that, so romance flies out the window. I was sore for two days afterward and have absolutely no regrets about it.
It’s been blissful to spend five days straight with him. He left for his house this morning to ‘take care of business’ as he put it, but most of the time, he’s at mine. I think he likes the normalness of the neighborhood. No paparazzi or fans have discovered him over here… yet.
“I want to take you to my friends’ house today. Are you busy?” Dalton asks me over the phone.
While sitting in my office, I lean back in my chair and swivel to face the window. “I’m free for you.”
“I like that.”
“I like you.”
“Okay, I like that even more.”
“I really like that you like that even more.” I giggle, feeling silly.
Chuckling, he asks, “With this big like-fest going on, do you have any openings I can fill before we head over? You know, openings in your schedule.”
“I have several… openings you can fill. What works best fo—”
“I’m on my way.”
Dead air. At least it’s for a good reason. The man is insatiable and I love it. Jumping up, I run into the bathroom and freshen up. Thank goodness I decided to take a shower this morning. I put on a little makeup and spritz with perfume. I whip my hair up into a ponytail and rush back into my office to shut everything down.
Dalton arrives in record time. When I open the door, I greet him by saying, “You’re a motivated man.”
“You know how to motivate me.”
“C’mere.” Feeling a lot motivated myself, I kiss him hard. He backs me further inside, lips joined with mine, until the back of my legs hit the end of the couch.
Not wasting time, I push down my shorts and pull off my shirt.
“I like this look on you,” he says, running his finger over my bare breasts.
“You mean naked?”
“Yeah, naked. I like you naked best.” Kneeling before me, he leans forward, his heated breath hitting me right before he kisses me again, but much lower this time. Motivation does funny things to people and we lose the next hour to moans and breathy sighs as pleasure is built and satisfaction is found.
I’m nervous as we drive over to Dalton’s band-mate’s house. This neighborhood is not where you expect a guitarist from one of the most popular bands in the world to live. It’s down-to-earth, not pretentious at all. The house is in the middle of the Valley and most of the homes are similar ranch-style homes, but it suits all the good things I’ve heard about Cory and Rochelle.
When we walk in, Dalton’s hand tightens around mine, which makes me wonder if he’s a little nervous too. Introducing me to his friends is stressful stuff and definitely makes us more than just two people who have sex, even if it is a lot of sex. After a few hellos, Dalton continues out the sliding glass door to find the hosts. The backyard is an oasis. Not a rocker’s oasis but one many would envy—green grass, vegetable garden in the corner, a nice deck, and a fountain against the house that adds to the casual ambience.
Walking straight across the lush lawn to where a group of people are gathered, Dalton says hi to Cory, “Hey man.” They shake hands, but Cory pulls him in with a few hard pats to the back. I recognize him from a CD cover.