He sighed.
I murmured into his ear, “I like juicy, plump things to suck on.”
He groaned and wriggled around. “How long is this damn movie? Why isn't it over yet?”
I nibbled and sucked on his earlobe, then pulled my mouth away to whisper, “We could always leave early.”
I barely had time to blink before he had me up, on my feet.
Some people behind us grumbled about us blocking their view.
I crouched down and let Callie know we were checking out early, mumbling something about stomach problems. She gave me a knowing look as she nodded.
Smith kept me close in front of him. I thought he was using my body to disguise his erection from the crowd, but he kept me there even as we got out to the road, that firm rod pressing me on, faster.
We were still a block away from the gas station where we'd parked the quad when he pulled me into the dark passage between two buildings. The space was narrow, and he pressed my back against the brick wall.
Then he was all over me at once, kissing my lips and neck, his warm hands on my bu**ocks, under my dress.
“Climb the wall,” he said.
I gasped between his ferocious kisses raining down on me, “What?”
His belt jingled as he unfastened it and the top of his jeans.
“Press your back into the wall and walk your feet up the other wall.”
He then hoisted me up, and to my surprise, I braced my feet on either side of him, and I was no longer touching the ground.
With no panties in the way, he was nearly inside me in seconds. He paused, his tight-fitting jeans loosened but not slid down, and the hot, full head of his c**k pressed against me, more into the side of my leg than my opening.
“You're a little off-target,” I whispered.
With one hand still cradling my buttock and helping me stay in position, he reached his other hand under my skirt, to my pu**y.
“There's that ginger minge,” he said, stroking my triangle. “You're so wet for me.” His fingers nudged inside me and dragged slick moisture up to my clit. Using his hand as a guide, he dragged his c**k forward and back within my crease, the pleasure searing.
“I want you,” I murmured.
“You're so wet for me. So wet.” He kissed me, hard. “So beautiful and so wet. All I have to do is look at you and I'm hard.”
“I want you.”
“Say it again.”
“I want you, Smith.”
He moaned and pushed partway into me.
I nearly lost my grip on the wall and collapsed, but he propped me up. I stiffened my legs, bracing myself.
He pushed in again, but he couldn't get in all the way. His h*ps were squeezed between my thighs, so he adjusted my legs to be wider.
Now we were set, and he groaned and sunk himself into me. I cried out in pleasure, and he quieted my cries with his soft, wet lips on my mouth.
We kissed, tongues tangling, me making soft, mewling sounds, and he found his rhythm, his c**k getting stiffer with every stroke.
I came suddenly, my cries turning to a low, animal groan.
“My sweet Tori,” he said. “Tori.”
He paused, and then he drove into me, pumping me up the wall on my back, my hair catching behind me and pulling my head back, exposing my neck. He kissed and licked and sucked my neck hungrily as he came, his liquid hot inside me.
He grunted, and clenched me to him, his c**k shaking.
I opened my eyes to find him looking right at me, his expression one of surprise, or perhaps curiosity.
We stared at each other for a quiet moment. We were in a public place, a darkened alleyway just steps from the sidewalk. I could hear the sounds of the movie playing in the park, and all those people not far away.
He moaned and kissed my forehead. “That was so good.”
Slowly, he withdrew from me, and I felt the fluid run straight out of me, to the ground. He didn't seem to notice, and slowly helped me down from the wall.
“My legs are shaking,” I said.
“I'll take the credit for that,” he said. “Let's pretend it had nothing to do with your gymnastics.”
Once on steady ground, I opened my purse and pulled out some tissues and my panties, then tidied up and put them on. He had his jeans back up, and drew me in against him. I thought it was for another kiss, but he just hugged me.
Some people walked by on the sidewalk, unaware of the two of us in the narrow space, mere feet away.
“You're amazing, Tori,” he said, still hugging me.
“You're not so bad yourself.” I squeezed his bu**ocks.
He whispered, “I really like you.”
I felt his words ripple through me, as pleasurable as his touch on my body. “I like you too.”
He pulled away from me, grabbed my hand, and charged back out to the sidewalk.
He said, “Now, where did I park that bike of mine?”
4: Sleeping Upstairs
Smith drove the vehicle back, the small headlight barely lighting our way. I wrapped my arms around him, enjoying the sensation of hugging him as we rode over the bumpy trail.
Just before we arrived at the cabin, he slammed on the brakes. A family of skunks strolled across the trail in front of us, confident and cocky as hell.
Smith whispered back to me, over his shoulder, “I dare you to go pick up one of those babies.”
I pinched him on the stomach and whispered, “You first.” The skunks dawdled along, in no hurry. “They walk like they're wearing poopy diapers,” I said.
He chuckled, his voice low.
After they'd disappeared into the forest, we drove the rest of the way without incident.
Back at the cabin, Smith turned on the big TV and plugged a hard drive into the media center computer attached to the big screen.
A minute later, Ghostbusters was playing on the screen.
“Couldn't let you get away without seeing it,” he said, smiling.
“Do you want popcorn?” I stepped toward the kitchen.
“I want you, Tori. Come and sit with me.” He took a seat on one of the generous-sized sofas and patted the spot next to him.
I got us some bottled sparkling water and joined him on the sofa. He put his arm around me and I rested my cheek on his shoulder, utterly content. There was a part of me that ran through the same worrying thoughts, over and over, like a hamster on a wheel, but when Smith held me or touched me, those thoughts went quiet.
I didn't have to worry about the future, because the only time that mattered was now, and we were together now, and that was beautiful enough.
We watched the movie, but Smith claimed to be “too sleepy” to watch the sequel.
I rolled my eyes. “Too sleepy. I'm so sure. Is that why your hand keeps slipping in between my thighs?”