“I don’t know,” I choke out.
He touches my face and kisses me, his passion spiking. “What the fuck are you doing to me?”
I shake my head and press my palm into his chest, right onto his mother’s name. “I don’t know.”
As the song builds, so does the crazy electricity between us. It feels too big to contain, too pleasurable to bear.
Suddenly, I don’t want an inch of separation between us. I want all of him. Every inch. I hitch my legs up higher around his thrusting body, as high as I can manage, trying to coax him into the farthest recesses of my body and he responds by guiding my thighs to his shoulders. And that’s all it takes to send my body releasing with an orgasm so pleasurable, it makes my eyes water.
“Yeah, baby,” Josh says, his passion obviously on the verge of releasing. “Oh my God. You’re amazing, babe.”
In one smooth movement, Josh pulls out of me and rearranges us. Suddenly, he’s on his back and I’m on top of him, straddling him, riding him. His hands are all over me. His face is intense. I grab his finger off my breast and suck it voraciously.
He moans and thrusts underneath me with increased fervor.
I’m vaguely aware the music has moved on to the next song on James Bay’s album. He’s singing about “craving.” Oh God, these words were written for us, too. I’ve been craving this man since the minute I laid eyes on him.
Our movement becomes heated. Josh is thrusting into me, grabbing at me, groping me, kissing me, groaning, and I’m gyrating my hips wildly on top of him, rubbing myself against his hard shaft as I do. He touches my clit and massages me—and I absolutely explode with pleasure.
“Yeah,” he chokes out as my body undulates around his cock, over and over. “Get it, baby.”
Right on my heels, Josh jerks underneath me, his body releasing into mine. “Oh God,” he groans. “Holy fuck.”
As Josh comes, I gaze at him from my perch on top of his body.
I love watching his features contort from pure pleasure. I love seeing every muscle in his body tense and tighten and then relax. My eyes drift across all the swirling ink decorating his skin—to his abs and chest, glistening with sweat.
His body is quiet now. He’s all done. His blue eyes are fixed on mine. Oh, those eyes. I trace his eyebrow with my fingertip and he blinks slowly, obviously completely spent. I lean down and kiss his lips gently and then trail gentle kisses along the length of his jaw, to his ear, and then down to his neck. I inhale the scent of him and swoon. Oh my effing God, I cannot get enough of this man.
I kiss and lick his chest tattoo, each and every letter, and then I let my tongue migrate down his torso to his little fishy swimming in the river and then down to the deep ridges in his abs. I kiss every letter of his “overcome” tattoo along his waist and let my tongue explore the sharp “V” cuts above his pelvis as the song swirls around us, giving voice to what I’m feeling deep inside. After a while, my mouth finds his nipples, then his neck, his jawline, his lips. We kiss passionately for a long time until, finally, we pull away from each other and stare into each other’s eyes.
My head is reeling. I’ve never experienced sex like this. This was something new—the perfect alignment of heart, body, mind, and soul. It took my breath away.
Josh wraps a lock of my hair around his finger and sings along softly to the last chorus of “Craving” straight to the end of the song.Another song on the album starts, and at the first chorus, it becomes clear what this new song must be called—“If You Ever Want To Be In Love.”
Josh stops playing with my hair. “Excuse me for a minute, PG.” He abruptly guides me off him, hops off the bed, and practically sprints toward his bathroom, leaving me in the bed alone with my mouth hanging open, listening to the rest of the song by myself.
27
JOSH
Isplash cold water on my face and look at myself in the mirror. What the fuck just happened between Kat and me? I wouldn’t even call what we just didsex. It felt more like a nuclear reaction.Sexual fusion.Is that a thing? Well, if not, it is now.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror.
Water is dripping off my brow and down my nose.
Holy motherfucking shit.
How many times has Kat or I said, “Sex doesn’t have to be deep and meaningful”? And now, all of a sudden, I feel like going back in a time machine to each and every one of those conversations and shouting, “Yeah, but sometimes itis,Kat—sometimes itis!”
Jesus Christ. That was epic. The way her body felt around mine. Her eyes. Her lips. That electricity coursing between us. I couldfeelit.And the music.Oh my God. What the fuck was James Bay trying to do to me? Turn me into a blubbering pussy? I thought that James Bay album was cool when Jonas played it for me in New York, that’s all—I just really liked the guy’s voice. “Hey, that’s cool,” I said when Jonas played one of the songs for me. “Who is that?” I had no idea those songs would later provide the soundtrack of my complete and total undoing.
Holy fucking damn, that was some seriously mind-blowing sex.
Which, by the way, makes no sense at all. Ever since breaking up with Emma, all I’ve done is fantasize about all the kinky-ass shit I wanna do, all the ways I wanna let my inner sick-fuck run amok—andthat’swhat got me off so hard?—the most straight-forward, basic kind of sex a guy can have? But, oh my fucking God, it was incredible. Kat felt so fucking good, and the music was so perfect,and that electricity came out of nowhere and rocked my world... Holy fuck. I literally had to run away from her when that last song started playing or else I was gonna turn into fucking Jonas and start calling her the ‘goddess and the muse’ or some shit like that.
For Chrissakes, the way I was feeling in that moment, I was on the cusp of pouring my heart out to her, on the verge of telling her a thousand things I’d never normally say. For Chrissakes, I was about to babble about my upcoming move to Seattle! “When I move to Seattle,” I was about to say, “I wanna do this every night with you, babe.” Those are the exact words I was on the verge of saying to her! They were on the tip of my fucking tongue—even though I’m not moving for three motherfucking months! How could I eventhinkof making an implied promise like that? Sure, I’m addicted to Kat right now—painfullyaddicted—Jesus God—I feel like a fucking labradoodle fetching a stick every time I’m in her presence—but who knows how long this white-hot passion’s gonna last? This thing with Kat and me is brand new, after all. At this stage in a relationship, three months from now might as well be thirty years. Things might work out—and, shit, I sure hope they do—God, I hope they do—but they might not. Like I always say: under-promise and over-deliver. That’s the path to happiness and peace of mind in all things.
