10. Sahara
10
Sahara
F or the briefest of seconds, something painful flashes in his eyes. Jeez, was it something I said? But how could it have been? He’s the one who wanted to use toys because it would be fun, and it was fun. Not as much fun as bringing him to orgasm with my mouth, though. That was an insane ego boost. Honestly, I’d never been confident having sex before, but Kalen makes everything so easy and natural, even the sexy talk. Being Sahara Monroe is so much fun.
He reaches down and pulls me to my feet, and he lightly brushes damp strands of hair from my cheek. I pout playfully. “I guess it’s time for you to go sleep on the couch?”
“Like fuck,” he laughs, and I laugh with him. He glances down. “Little Kalen might be spent, but I’m sure he’ll be up for more later, and I want to be in that bed when he’s ready.”
“Little Kalen.” I make a tsking sound. “That’s the best you can do?”
“I guess I’m not as creative as you and your Clit Eastwood.” He leans in and lightly presses his lips to mine. “Can you think of a better name?”
I close one eye and glance up. “Hmm, I’m going to think on that. But one thing I do know is we can’t call him little.” Just then an idea hits and I laugh.
“What?”
“Well, your last name is Coolidge, like our thirtieth president.”
He cocks his head. “Uh, I know Coolidge was president, but no idea which number. How do you even know that? Did you study history, too?”
I shake my head, not wanting him to know that I’m a book nerd. That I’m Darien Lewis from the closet. “Something like that.” I poke my finger into his chest. “Hear me out. You’re Coolidge. Like the president.” I point at myself. “I’m Monroe, like Marilyn, and she sang Happy Birthday, Mr. President, so…” I pause and reach down and touch his cock. “What do you think about Mr. President?”
He tugs me to him, his hand sliding down my back to cup my ass. “Mr. President, it is.” He glances at my open nightstand drawer. “I can’t wait to meet all your other friends in there.”
“Oh, I’m sure Bugs and Octopussy are just as excited to meet you.”
He roars with laughter. “I can’t wait to hear the story behind those names.” He taps my ass. “Right now, how about we shower, and I’ll order us in some food?”
“A shower yes, but let me make you something.”
“I don’t want you going through the trouble.”
“It’s no trouble. Besides, I need you eating nutritious food. I won’t be responsible for you being sluggish on the ice.” I tap his nose. “I need you in the zone.”
“You mean the ‘O’ zone.”
Unable to help myself, because I simply want to keep touching him, I lightly brush his damp hair back. “Look at you. Clever after all.”
He brushes his shoulder. “I got game.”
“Yeah, you do.” I go up on my toes and kiss him, and it seems to take him by surprise. “What do you like to eat?” I ask, and when he gives me a cocky grin I shake my head. “Do you have a one-track mind?”
“Two. Hockey and sex.”
“Good god.” I laugh but I’d be a fool to think there wasn’t more to this man. With the way he protects his sister—me—there is something deeper there. But if that’s how he wants to play this, and not get to know each other, I’m game. Actually, it’s for the best. Keeping things light and superficial is exactly how I want this too. No way am I going to get in deeper.
Hahahaha…
Shut up, Darien.
He takes my hand and walks me into the hall, and I watch the muscles along his back play as he moves. My God, how much does this man work out? “Ah, do you always walk around naked?” Honestly, what is happening in my life? I agreed to a drink, to give Taylor alone time with Elias, and now, after an incredible time in my bedroom, I’m walking around my place with a naked NHL player, who I’ve crushed on for years.
Who are you, girl? I don’t know, but I think I like her.
“Whenever I can.”
His gaze rakes over my nakedness. Dammit, I should feel self-conscious but I don’t.
“You don’t like it?” he asks, tugging me to him.
“Oh, I like it. It’s just not something…” Not wanting to give too much of myself away, I redirect. “I mean, I was just wondering.”
“No clothes until I leave tomorrow.”
“But I’m going to cook,” I protest. “What if I burn myself?”
He lightly brushes my shoulder, running his hands down my hips, like we touch intimately like this all the time, like it’s the most natural thing in the world for us to be doing. “Then let me do takeout.”
“Nope. I’m making nutritious food.”
“As an actress, I guess you have to be careful, huh?”
He’s so honest and sincere, I almost blurt out that I’m a librarian and can eat whatever I want. “Yeah,” is all I say.
“That’s tough, babe.”
“I don’t know. You have to stay in shape too.”
“How about this,” he begins. “Let’s do takeout tonight, and tomorrow we’ll go for a run.” He rubs his completely flat, completely hard stomach. “Work off those calories.”
I nearly swallow my tongue. “A run?”
I must look horrified, because he throws his head back and laughs. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, and I mean there are other ways to work off the calories.”
“I like that idea, and actually, a run does sound like it would be fun…” I twist up my face, like I’d just dropped a hard cover book on my baby toe. Been there, done that. “…in a masochistic, painful kind of way.”
“You’re in?”
“I’m in. One condition.” I lift my chin an inch, loving the playful banter between us.
“Oh, you have a condition, do you?”
“We get something really, really delicious, and I’m going to leave that up to you, since I don’t eat out much and don’t know many places.”
He nods, and since he’d searched through my entire place twice now, he leads me to the bathroom, knowing exactly where it is, and hauls me inside. “I think I’m up for the challenge. But what happens if it’s not really, really delicious? No run tomorrow?” He starts toward the shower, only to turn back a horrified look spreading across his face. “Wait, you’re not going to hold out on me. No sex?”
I grin, loving this playful Kalen. “Why would I want to torture myself like that?” I eye him. “Sex is not off the table.”
He wipes his brow, his eyes teasing. “Whew, and after the shower, food will be on the table.” He winks. “Unless of course you want to have sex on the table.”
I roll my eyes at him, not hating that idea, and he turns again. He takes two steps to my rather small shower, built for one, and reaches in and turns it on. My heart beats a little faster as I watch his muscles flex and relax again.
I haven’t known this man long—okay, that’s not true. I’ve known him for a very long time—so I guess I should say, I haven’t been intimate with this man long… Okay, again that’s not entirely true. Technically, I have been intimate with him—he just doesn’t know it was me.
So, what are you trying to say, girl?
Oh, just that in the last two days, I’ve experimented more than I have my whole life, and I might be addicted to sex.
“Tell me what you like?” I cock my head and grin. Okay, maybe he isn’t the only one with a one-track mind. He shakes his head. “Food wise,” he clarifies with a grin, and when he lightly runs his fingers down my arm, warmth sweeps through me. “When you were growing up in Washington, what was your favorite food?”
A measure of guilt grips me as I think back to my ‘young’ days in Washington. I spent my teenage years in Darien, like Kalen, and actually consider that where I grew up for some reason and I feel bad keeping that from him. Truthfully, we shouldn’t be having a conversation that could lead him back to my true identity. He never looked twice at that girl—or even once.
Are you that girl, anymore, Darien?
Yes, that girl still exists inside of me, and while I liked her no one else did.
“Beecher’s cheese,” I finally tell him, and close my eyes as I recall the rich, delicious taste. “Their mac and cheese is to die for. What I’d do for a big bowl right now.”
He tugs me into the tight shower, and our bodies are meshed together. The space is tight, but I’m not mad about it. “I think we can get Beecher’s cheese here.”
“Yeah, but no one can make the mac and cheese quite like they can. At the market you could see the cheese being made in big vats. I wanted to do a deep dive.”
“I can almost visualize that.” Chuckling, he reaches over me and bumps the side of my head with his elbow. “Oh, sorry. Did I hurt you?” He lightly touches my head, his lips thinning as worry floods his dark eyes. The man really is a protector at heart. Where does that come from?
Don’t go there, girl.
“No, I’m okay.” He studies me for a second and once he seems satisfied that I’m okay, he squirts some body wash into his palm. He brings his arm back between us. I duck to dodge another hit. Although this time his movements are slow, cautious, extra careful.
I’m about to get a squirt of my own, only to stop when he starts washing me. Ah, so this is what happens when people shower together. I can get behind that. I don’t hold back a moan as his big palms begin at my neck and travel downward, sneaking into all the tiny, hidden spaces, a few that have only ever been touched by him.
He reaches between my legs, and I bite back a small wince as he washes my labia. I haven’t had sex in so long, and after last night, and then again just now, I have to admit, I might be a little tender.
With the utmost gentleness, he slides his fingers between my folds, and reaches around my body to run a finger along the crevice of my virgin backside. Hello! If he noticed me stiffening, he doesn’t mention it, and again, I can’t believe how he just touches me like it’s natural, and easy, like he’s not running a finger along my most private parts. Once he’s done washing me, he shifts so I’m completely under the spray.
“Hair?” he asks.
I reach up, grip a handful and squeeze out the water. “No, it doesn’t need washing. What about you?”
“I showered at the rink.”
Desperate to put my hands all over him, I groan, “You need a bit of soap, though.” I squirt body wash into my palms and go straight for his half-swollen cock. Does that thing ever go down? Honestly, I don’t know how they walk around with them, let alone play hockey. “Mr. President seems to like this.”
“Fuck,” he murmurs. “Keep that up and Mr. President will be hard again in no time.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I ask.
“Not if you want me to turn you around and take you up against this shower.”
My stomach flutters. “Of course, I want that.”
“I don’t have a condom,” he explains. All humor drains from his face as he lightly strokes my cheek with the back of his fingers. “I don’t have sex without a condom, babe, and you were a little sore.”
He noticed that?
Cares about that?
Jeez Louise. As my grandmother’s ‘curse’ words ring around in my brain, I blurt out, “Right. Me neither.” I’m on the pill, and probably could have sex without a condom. If he always uses one, I’m guessing he’s clean. I’m not putting voice to any of those thoughts, though. With no barriers, it might be a little too intimate. That almost makes me laugh. Everything we’ve been doing, from touching, to talking, to teasing has been completely intimate. Still, I guess I don’t want him to think I’m too eager, too needy. Which, of course, I am.
He slicks his wet hair from his face. “Plus, I want to feed you and there’s always tomorrow. After run shower sex.”
“We’re doing this again tomorrow?” Honestly, I can’t wait. I keep that to myself, and remove the nozzle from the hook so I can wash away the soap.
“If you want to.”
“Of course, I want to,” I blurt out quickly, too quickly, and decide to add, “It’s fun.”
“Right, fun. I was thinking maybe we could do it until after the Halloween party. We’re on the road to Dallas right after that.”
I shrug. More time with Kalen? Have I died and gone to heaven? “Sure,” I agree in my most casual voice which is ridiculous, because I just practically screamed, o f course I want to.
Once I’m done rinsing him, he takes the nozzle from me. “I didn’t realize this came off.” He puts it between my legs, to better rinse me. Or maybe he’s just playing with me, to see how I react to the spray. The man obviously knows I need enhancements to get off when I’m not with him.
He puts the nozzle back into the handle and reaches behind me to turn off the spray. Keeping our bodies close, he opens the glass door, and grabs my towel off the hook. I’m about to take it from him, but he practically lifts me from the shower and sets me on the mat. The next thing I know, I’m wrapped in the cotton while he stands there dripping wet.
“In the cabinet.” I gesture with a nod and he turns and pulls a towel from the cabinet. He scrubs it over his hair and body and while I expect him to knot it around his waist he doesn’t. Instead, he hangs it on the hook. Right, for the rest of the night we stay naked.
“When our food comes, are you going to answer the door like that?”
“I’ll have them leave it on the deck.”
“Kalen,” I burst out. “You can’t open my door naked. What will the neighbors think?”
He makes two fists and bumps them. “They’ll think you’ve been knocking boots, babe.”
I cover my face. “Ohmigod, you can’t do that.”
“Fine,” he grouches. “I’ll pull on my jeans, but that’s it.”
I roll my eyes. “I had no idea you were a nudist.”
“I prefer the term naturalist, thank you very much.”
I laugh. “What am I going to do with you?”
He leans in and lightly brushes his lips over mine. He inches back and that’s when I realize the sigh in my throat, the way I’m still leaning into him. I open my eyes and find him smiling, as he reminds me, “I’m open to anything, remember?”