“What about paying?”
“I run a monthly tab and they bill me.”
“Where are we going?”
He says nothing, just pulls me along with some urgency. When we get to the back, I see a bathroom marked for families rather than gender. He leads me inside, where there’s a water closet in a small separate room and a larger lounge, complete with diaper station and a small sofa. He locks the door.
“Come here, Ella, I’ve missed you too fucking much.” He yanks me to the couch but we never make it onto it; he draws me in to kiss me the way I wanted to be kissed by him the second I saw him through the elevator doors. My hands slide into his silky hair as his tongue invades my mouth.
“You taste good, baby,” he whispers as he drops to his knees, pushing my dress up and latching on with his mouth. The orgasm I’d succeeded in pushing away before comes rushing back and I can’t hold it off, not for a second. Before I squeeze my eyes shut, the room seems to shiver with heat waves. I writhe frantically on his mouth but he never misses a beat and by the time I start to coast down from the pinnacle, I’m panting as if I’ve run a fifty-mile marathon. When he lifts his head up, his hands slide up and down my legs. “Mmm, you taste good all over.”
I pull him up by his collar and kiss him again but I only taste myself; instead, I sink to my knees, sucking him into my mouth so I can taste him. Letting him swing his hips toward me in urgent rhythm, I swallow back my gag reflex to give him the best ride possible. I’ve barely hit my stride before he lifts me up in one swift motion and propels me into the nearest wall. Lifting me higher, he impales me on his huge erection: I’ve waited three whole days to feel him here and I want to savor every second of it.
“I’ve missed you so much, Ian,” I nearly weep, my hands clutching huge hanks of his hair.
“Baby, I’ve missed you, too. I’ve been literally dreaming about you.” A moan escapes, deep from his chest. “Fuck, you’re so tight, Ella, you’re threatening my control.” He pauses for a moment, grimacing, then bends his knees to use the full force of his legs and hammers into me for what seems an eternity. In a couple of minutes, we’re both slathered in sweat, my dress is down; my dress is up: it’s bunched up in the middle so he could have access to both ends. His mouth closes over my breast and teeth sink into skin, mostly gently. It feels indescribably good.
I decide to bring him down, then and there, in punishment for his earlier torture. I tighten my legs around his waist, push up using my arms on his shoulders as leverage and tighten everything on the way down, milking him with my muscles and allowing him little control over my actions. I do that a total of four times and he finally reaches critical mass and detonates inside me. In a wrinkled heap, we collapse down to the floor to recuperate and regroup.
Chapter 47
The rhythm of the tiny waves lulls every worry away, leaving a puddle of Ella on the polished deck. Ian smiles as he drops down to give her a kiss.
“Relaxed much?”
One blue eye opens, casting him a suspicious look and then she returns his smile. “Mmm. I could get used to this.” Her arm rises up to touch his face, stubbled now; he obviously neglected to shave for a day or two.
He lies down beside her. “Yeah, I loved that about sleeping on the houseboat. No matter how tense you are when you go to bed, in less than an hour the boat is rocking you to sleep. Maybe when all of this is over and done with, we can move there again.”
“Yes,” she sighs. “ I suppose it’s time to discuss all of this, isn’t it?”
“Let’s get it out of the way. I worried myself sick for hours before I finally accepted the fact that you need to hear the truth. Ella, please don’t reject me when you do.”
Her whole body tensed when he said the word truth. That clued her in right away to what was coming. Now he has to follow through; his choice is gone.
“So you did do what she accused you of doing, Ian?”
Closing his eyes, he says softly, “Let me just take you through it, moment by moment, decision by decision, so you can follow my rationale. Okay?”
She nods. He inhales deeply and begins. She’s lying on her back on the bow of the sailboat; he is sitting beside her, cross-legged, staring at the distant horizon. Gazing into the blue depths of her eyes is too difficult when speaking of such dark things. He does not attempt to justify or ameliorate through explanation: he simply recounts history as it occurred. If she were of a mind to judge him, he’d be on the losing end regardless. His best hope remained her comprehension of what it felt like to stand in his shoes.