Page 14 of The Weekend

We gazed at each other for a quick moment. He was strong, muscular, but from his waist down, an angry scar traveled across his hip and down his right leg. He moved gracefully, and I would have never assumed his damage was so visual while mine was internal. I touched the large scar, my fingers lightly tracing the scarred skin. Old lacerations, stitching, and surgical wounds covered by smooth, newly healed skin.

“Does it hurt?”

Jordan picked me up and laid me on the bed. “Not anymore.” His hands splayed on my sides, his lips traveled from my neck to my breasts. His mouth teased my nipple until it was hard. He kissed his way down and his fingers found my heat. I hissed with pleasure as his fingers massaged me through the flimsy, lacy underwear. My hips raised and my back arched upward. It had been so long since someone else touched me there, tiny explosions hit the nerves all over my body.

“Jordan, I need you,” I moaned, pulling down my panties, pressing myself against him like a cat in heat. I wanted him, needed him, now. He removed his hand and reached over me to the drawer where he grabbed a condom. He used his teeth to open it, less of a goofy grin and more of a man determined. Once he had put it on, I kissed him aggressively, my urge becoming uncomfortable. He entered me, filling and stretching me, so agonizingly slow. I lifted my hips to meet his, but it didn’t help, he was set on torturing me with sweet and quiet kisses that matched the gradual pull and push off his body.

Then he pressed his lips on mine. Gentle and measured. I raised my head to meet his lips. I wanted him closer to me. Deeper. I sighed, partly out of frustration and mostly from the pleasure he gave me.

“Katie.” He breathed and increased the tempo. I almost screamed from the tension building in my body clenched and I clung to his back, fingers digging in his flesh.

“Jordan.” My voice hushed with reverence for this moment. A potential real orgasm with another human. He thrust faster, pulling the string of tension tighter and tighter until it snapped. A rush better than any drug, any addiction. I’d forgotten the excitement, the joy from sex and a sob escaped from the sensation, connecting with someone, with Jordan. I closed my eyes and let the euphoria settle.

I floated away in the bliss, my mind exploding as Jordan climaxed shortly after. He kissed me deeply as we lay in each other’s arms. I made mindless circles on his skin, enjoying his warmth, his closeness.

“Jordan,” I whispered, “I forgot… this was… perfect.”

He shifted, gazing down at me with his crooked smile. “You look... Happy.” He crawled into bed and pulled me to him and I put my hand on those hard abs, stirring my desire to lick them.

I beamed. He was right, I just had sex with a gorgeous man who painted pictures of me. Why didn’t I do this earlier? My brain was scrambled, I cursed my stupidity of not doing this sooner. Sex was amazing. Sex with Jordan was… fantastic. I didn’t have to fall in love with him. I could get up right now. Maybe do it again. Next time I was in town. If Jordan was free, he’d indulge me. We could be sex buddies. That’s what they called it, right?

“Look, I don’t want you to think too much into this but stay for breakfast.”

I didn’t want to think that far ahead in my life. I kissed him, hoping he wouldn’t ask me again. I just wanted his hands on me. I wanted his touch. I wanted more. He unlocked me and it felt good to be free. To be with him in this moment.

“Keep touching me, I like it. It’s amazing to be touched.” I whispered, kissing his jaw line.

“All night,” he promised.

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