Chapter 33 #2
He cups his hand around his ear. “Sorry, what was that? My cock makes your bones shake?”
I erupt into laughter because his playfulness is so unexpected and uncharacteristic of him, but slowly, day by day, he’s gradually unwrapping little pieces of himself, letting his true self shine through.
“Yes, Elijah. That’s exactly what I said.”
“Thought so.” He shoots me a flirty wink, one strong hand wrapped around the steering wheel, the other on the shift stick, those biceps of his bulging.
Fuck, he’s sexy.
He pulls up outside a log cabin with a welcome sign outside of it, overlooking a lake that’s stiller than a glass statue, dozens of fancy-looking cars lined up on either side of Eli’s.
“Nice location,” Eli says, reading my thoughts exactly.
“It’s stunning.” We’re situated in the bowl of the valley, trees lining the embankment spreading up and out over the mountainside that looks like it’s been freshly painted in forest green.
“I hope our room has a view of the lake,” I say wistfully. I love the city, but there is no denying how beautiful the landscape is once you get out of town and I can see why my mom and dad love it so much.
“Where are the rooms, or are they cabins?” Eli looks left and right, ducking his head to get a better view out of the windows.
“Down there, I think.” I point to the dirt track through Eli’s side window.
“Shall we check in then?”
“Yes.” I’m so excited. I read the schedule yesterday and I cannot wait to get started. “Our first activity is in an hour.”
“We start today?” Eli asks, almost in shock.
“Yes, and all day tomorrow, then Sunday morning we leave.” It’s a quick turnaround, but the activities they have planned won’t create that impression.
“You’ll feel like a new man when we leave, I promise.
” I’m a little worried he’ll hate it. I hope he doesn’t.
A few activities on the schedule might trigger a meltdown.
I’m just hoping that’s not the case. Living with him this past week has given me a bit of an insight into his psyche and routines.
I just hope this weekend doesn’t end in disaster. I may have pushed him too far.
After checking in and registering, a kind woman at the front desk named Claire gave us directions to our accommodation, and that’s where we are now: standing in front of it. While I might be okay, Eli could possibly be on the verge of having that meltdown I predicted.
He drops his fancy brown leather overnight bag to the ground.
Here we go…
“It’s a… What the fuck is it?” he asks, his hand on his hip, the other waving around in front of him.
“A yurt.”
“A what?”
“It’s a Mongolian-style yurt.”
“It’s tiny.” He swipes the air with his hand, swatting mosquitoes away. “I thought you said it was cabins. These were not on the website.”
Oh, shit, I should have mentioned this on the way here. He’s a stickler for detail and likes to know everything in advance.
This is off plan and I can already see him struggling.
“These are new,” I say overly enthusiastically, “but this is all they had left as I booked it very last minute.” We went from both screwing with each other about this weekend to actually screwing each other and I only booked this on Monday.
I keep up my assurances. “We’re only here for two days, and we’re just sleeping in it; the rest of the time, we’ll be out and about. ”
Cursing under his breath as more mosquitoes choose him as their feast, he growls, “Mosquitoes, hundreds of the fuckers. Ow, one of them bit me.” His tone, usually deep and commanding, rises a few octaves as he continues to unravel, flailing and slapping, which only seems to make them worse.
I look down at myself, untouched, and fight back a laugh as he loses his cool, one tiny mosquito bite at a time.
“I brought insect spray just in case.” I read the joining instructions and sprayed myself with the stuff before we left, unlike Eli. He clearly missed that note.
“I’m going to need the whole can,” he grumbles, batting wildly and spinning around on his feet, slapping his stomach and arms. “Fuck.” He turns to face me and slaps his face harder than he meant to.
When the whites of his eyes flare, that’s when I realize how boyishly human Eli is beneath the irritation, self-inflicted routines, and cloud of mosquitoes.
“I think we should go inside,” I suggest, then suck my cheeks in to stop myself from losing it completely. If I laugh, he might get back in his car and leave me here. I can’t risk it.
Walking toward his bag, I lift it off the ground as his arms flap around like he’s fighting a ghost, muttering mild threats at the bugs. His footsteps follow me quickly from behind, his usual composed veneer peeled away.
“Fuck off,” he shouts as if his authority alone should send the insects away.
Failing to hold myself together, I explode with laughter as I reach up to open the small wooden door.
“Stop laughing. It’s not funny,” he admonishes.
It’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. “Sorry.” I’m not.
Eli darts in behind me, having to duck under the doorjamb to get inside because he’s so tall and the door isn’t.
Pushing me inside, he then slams the door behind him before peering through the circular porthole window in the door like there’s a bear outside waiting to attack him and he’s ready to defend himself.
I lay our bags on the floor, then wait for him to say something because he’s still flapping about, making sure he’s got rid of each and every bug that followed us inside.
“Why are they all on me?” he grunts, half frustrated and half irritated, while I am fully amused and he’s almost completely out of breath.
“Are you sorted now?” Who knew an army of tiny mosquitoes could take out a six-foot brute of a man with the highest IQ I’ve ever met.
In a low impatient tone that’s laced with disbelief, he opens his mouth to reply but when his gaze lands on our sleep situation, he stops then barks, “Two single beds? What the fuck is this shit?”
“Oh, yeah, so about that. Because our booking was at the eleventh hour, this is all they had left.” I’m rambling now.
“It’s okay though, we can scoot the beds together.
Problem solved.” I blow air into my cheeks.
It’s then I notice angry-looking red lumps forming in his cheek, and his arm, neck, and forehead.
Wow, that’s quite a reaction. “Are you allergic to mosquitoes?” I point to his face.
“No.”
That can’t be true. “I’ll ask if they have any antihistamine.” He’s going to need it. The bite under his eye is bigger than all the rest. If that swells some more, it will impair his vision.
He strides to the small mirror on the wooden dresser to examine his skin. “Motherfuckers.” Lifting his chin upward, he grimaces. “I’ve been eaten alive.”
Within seconds, too. He’s going to look like a human pincushion by Sunday.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” I say, feeling terrible. I’ve already pushed him too far outside of his comfort zone, and the weekend hasn’t even begun.
This weekend was designed to stretch boundaries safely, not traumatize him.
Eli eyes the sweeping arc of the roof that forms a soft dome at the top. “I’ll be fine. I just need to freshen up. Where’s the bathroom?” He scans the small space and finds nothing, disoriented.
Oh hell, this next thing I tell him isn’t going to go down well either. “It’s outside.”
“Outside?” His lips thin with annoyance.
“It’s only a short walk away.” That’s what it said on the website. “It’s next to the shower block.”
“Shower block?” He stiffens like I struck him.
The more irritated he becomes, the funnier it is.
In spite of doing everything to keep it together, I laugh out loud, uncontrollably, until he joins me, his laugh deep, rich, and warm, and a sound I love so much and wish he would do more often.
Eventually, he falls into the chair behind him, holding on to his ribs, his full-hearted belly laugh easing off.
Doing my best not to smudge my mascara, I wipe the tears away from under my eyes from laughing so hard.
Eli leans back in the chair, shaking his head in disbelief. “This isn’t a retreat, it’s hell on earth,” he says on an exhale.
I make my way to him, his eyes on me as I approach, openly studying me as I drop to my knees in front of him, his attention looking down at me intensely.
“I have another confession to make,” I say slowly, swaying my hips to distract him.
He cracks his neck left and right as if trying to relieve the tension. “Am I going to regret coming here?”
“No. Well, maybe.” I’m unsure how he’ll react.
“This is a couples retreat because, again, that’s what they had availability for.
It’s not an individual solo reflection retreat; it’s a couple’s one where we have to do everything in pairs.
It’s relational rather than personal. We’ll confront blocks, build trust, strengthen our relationship, and explore intimacy. Together.”
His eyebrows rise in surprise, wrinkling his forehead. “Please tell me there isn’t a workshop in having greater orgasms or something equally humiliating.”
“Nothing like that.”
“Thank fuck for that. You’re bold, Sapphire.”
“Too bold?”
“I quite like it actually.”
I can tell I’ve caught him off guard, though.
“I need a stiff drink. See, this is what you’re doing to me now, you’re driving me to want to drink,” he says dryly, not genuinely annoyed.
“I know what I could do to make you feel better.” I glide my hands up his denim-covered thighs, which are thick and strong beneath my fingertips.
“Yeah?”
I unbutton then unzip his fly and encourage him to lift his hips to help me slide off his jeans and boxers all at once.
Every one of my nerve endings fires up. The thrill of knowing that I’m in control of this beautifully strong man’s pleasure and about to make him come undone. My temperature soars as I run my hands up his firm thighs, then take his beautiful cock in my hand.
I’ve never been with a man so completely captivating and who shudders from my touch alone.
“Your cock is so big, Eli.” My nipples tighten against the silk fabric of my bra.
“Suck me,” he demands. “Make me feel better, baby.”
I push my other hand up inside the fabric of his T-shirt first and run my hand over his sculpted abs, causing him to groan. Teasing his skin with my nails, I graze his stomach, moving south, tickling his thighs again, before moving my touch toward his balls.
I continue to stroke him up and down, gently at first, then run my thumb around his glistening crown, lightly squeezing his testicles. On the next downward stroke, eager to taste him, I lean in and take him in my mouth.
He hisses, bucking his hips, then grabs the back of my head, pushing himself further into my mouth.
The tip of his cock touches the back of my throat, and I gag, but welcome it all the same, wanting him to lose control and blow in my mouth.
We move in time, me stroking, him fisting my hair in his hands, as he moves me up and down his length.
Swirling my tongue around his shaft, I create a channel for his dick to slip and slide back and forth in and out of with my hand and mouth doing all the work.
He grows harder with every downward stroke as I worship his cock, his taut body relaxing with every lick.
With intention, I suck faster and he thickens in my mouth, at the edge of losing it, salty precum flooding my mouth.
I squeeze his balls firmly as I suck him deep, all the way into my mouth, making him roar, bucking his hips upward, fucking my mouth, on the path of no return.
“I was wrong,” he groans loud enough for anyone to hear, flinging his head back over the back of the seat. “This isn’t hell. I’ve fucking died and gone to heaven.”
I smile mischievously around his shaft.
If this is what I have to do to keep him calm all weekend, then a girl has to do what a girl has to do.