17. Warren
17
WARREN
“Alright, alright. There’s no way you’ve heard this one before–why did the tomato go to the gym?”
“Please, that’s been my Pops’ go-to joke since I could walk. The tomato went to the gym to ketchup on its cardio!”
Over kale smoothies and matcha yogurt parfaits at a hip breakfast nook in the West Village, I watch in awe as Kira and Cedar Stone–yes, that’s his real name, I peeked at his ID when he opened his wallet to retrieve a business card–work out a deal in which Cedar’s company, Lumina Salts, will be the sole provider of electrolyte powders and green supplements at the Spin Sync studio in San Francisco.
When Kira told me about this meeting, she’d made it sound as if it was a last-minute opportunity she was able to take advantage of since we’re in New York. I should have known that wasn’t the case. The meeting may have been opportunistic, but Kira came fully prepared. With an iPad loaded with data and figures that showcase the profits that exposure on our platforms could bring, the deal was done before I’d finished my first cup of coffee.
“I have one,” I say, wanting to pipe in on the fun. For the last ten minutes, Kira and Cedar have been trading their silliest health and fitness jokes back and forth. “What is a yogi’s favorite kind of music? Heavy om-metal!”
Kira furrows her brows, her mouth curving into a faint, lopsided smile.
“Sorry about him,” she says to Cedar while patting her hand on my thigh. “He’s British. They’re not exactly known for their sense of humor.” Of course, Cedar laughs at her joke. I roll my eyes, pushing my tongue into my cheek at Kira’s teasing. I try to think of a comeback, but when the tip of her pinky brushes the outline of my cock in my pants, I nearly swallow my tongue.
After cleaning up, dressing, packing and heading downtown in a hurry, my brain is still playing catch up with the events of last night and this morning. Kira had been so warm and pliable under my touch, arching into me as she sought her release at my fingertips.
Even now, with her coy smile and her teasing touch, part of me worries that I may have taken advantage of a vulnerable situation. She’d gone from breaking down in my arms to the two of us possibly breaking through the walls life has built between us. The whiplash is jarring, and I know we need to talk.
Thankfully, we’ve got a six-and-a-half-hour flight ahead of us to do so.
“Can you tell me the temperature of the tank? No, Dean, don’t put a thermometer in it. There’s a temp gauge on the side of the tank, boludo. Okay, perfect. Was that so hard? Alright, thanks bro. No, I’m not wishing you good luck. Because, Dean, you get paid sixty million dollars a year to throw a football. You don’t need luck, just don’t fuck up.”
Kira hangs up the phone just as the flight attendant comes along to check that we’re both wearing our seatbelts and ready for takeoff. I don’t know how one pet fish could warrant so many questions and a thirty-minute conversation, but Kira insisted on calling Dean to check in on the damn thing before he left to get ready for his game this afternoon. I certainly wasn’t going to ask–who am I to question her parenting decisions?
“‘Just don’t fuck up’, huh? That’s not quite up to par with some of the inspirational things I’ve heard you throw out during your classes, darling,” I tease, leaning over to nudge her shoulder with mine. I’d been pleasantly surprised when she’d plopped herself down in the chair next to me instead of clear across the gulfstream like the flight here.
“My brother is a Knoxville Crushers legacy. It was IronDad’s franchise for years, and now it’s Dean’s. He’s got the talent, the skill, and the determination. He’s also the highest-paid player in the league right now. He doesn’t need me to blow smoke up his ass. He needs me to keep him humble.”
She sighs, curling her legs up underneath her and laying her head on my shoulder. I couldn’t stop the smile from taking over my face if I tried.
“I suppose I can’t argue with that logic.”
“Good. Don’t argue with me, Ren. Just hold my hand. I hate takeoff.”
Fuck, I wish I’d know that the other day. I never would have left her alone as we left San Francisco.
“Of course, love. Come here,” I say, shifting so that the arm closest to her can wrap around her shoulders while I hold both of her hands in my free one. She hums, nuzzling into the crook of my neck as the small plane speeds down the jetway and lifts into the air. I close my eyes and rest my head on top of hers, inhaling the citrus scent of her wild blonde curls.
I’m awoken by the sound of an unfamiliar voice and a pat on my arm.
“Can I offer you something to drink? Champagne? Coffee?”
I open my eyes, looking over Kira’s head and noticing clouds outside the open window shade. I must’ve fallen asleep as we ascended to our cruising altitude.
“Uh, yeah, coff–” I start, ready to order some caffeine to get through the flight and the impending jet lag, but Kira interrupts me.
“We’re fine, thank you. Would you mind giving us some privacy? We’ll hit the call bell if we need anything. Thanks,” she says, practically shooing the man away in the politest possible way. He retreats with a polite nod, heading towards the cockpit.
“I wanted a coffee,” I whine, but Kira is up and out of her seat before I finish getting the words out. She’s in my lap in an instant, her tight thighs trapping mine and her arms threaded around my neck.
“I’ve got my own ideas for keeping you awake, SSF,” she purrs, scratching her nails against the nape of my neck while grinding down on me. I can feel the heat of her cunt through her thin leggings, and the rush of blood to my cock has my head spinning.
“I’m Sexy Silver Fox again?” I rasp out as she leans in, running her soft lips over the scruff on my jaw. My hands find her hips and I knead at her flesh.
“Mmm, seems only fitting. Your hair is looking more salt than pepper these days.”
“That’s only because I’ve got a pain in the ass woman driving me mad all the damn time. Please, call me Ren. I don’t need you to remind me that you’ve been quickly cutting years off my life.” She presses down and slowly drags the ridge of her cunt over the outline of my erection and I hiss at the exquisite, painful pleasure.
“If I’m cutting years off your life, Ren, then we’d better make the ones you have left count.” She pulls my bottom lip between her teeth. It’s delicious and awful, because while my body might be screaming to buck, to rut, to fuck up into this gorgeous woman, my mind needs to take the wheel. It takes every bit of my self-control to pull my mouth from hers.
“Kira, darling. We have to talk.”
She groans and drops her forehead to mine.
“I was hoping we could skip that part and go straight to the orgasms.”
“We already did that this morning,” I say, laughing when she pouts. I lightly swat her ass and lift her up to place her in the seat across from me. “Don’t worry, love. There will be plenty of time for plenty of orgasms.”
“Fine,” she says, crossing her arms and pouting. “What do you want to talk about? I’m an open book.”
I raise an eyebrow at her.
“Ren, trust me. I’m much more agreeable and prone to truth telling when I want to come. So go ahead, I know you have questions.”
“My precious little pest,” I say through a smile I can’t bother hiding. “I do have questions. Last night…I’m not quite sure what happened there. You said you had the brain spins?”
“Yes. I have Major Depressive Disorder. It’s mostly under control. I take medication, but I still have episodes where I sort of…succumb to the darkness. I call it ‘the spins’ because it’s a little like being drunk. I can’t get my thoughts to settle, and it feels like the world is moving in all directions while I’m struggling just to stand still. It usually happens when I’m coming down from an adrenaline high, like when I secure a deal. Or when I accidentally punch my sworn enemy in the nose.” She smirks, and I instinctively rub my fingers over the lightly bruised bridge of my nose.
“So, you were having a bad night with your mental health, and you came to me.” It’s sort of a statement, more of a question.
“I did. When I came to your room last night…I don’t know, Ren. I have a village. I’ve got a mob of people that I can turn to when I get down. My dads, Tía Camila, Dean, my friends, their husbands. Any one of them would have dropped everything to be there for me if I told them I needed them. They’ve done it before. But I wanted you. I can’t deny this chemistry anymore. I can’t keep trying to force myself to keep looking for the bad in you when you keep showing me the good. All the things I told you were true. All of those burdens have been bubbling up for a long time, but the heaviest weight on my chest has been my feelings for you. Coming to you last night…that was me taking care of myself. I used my tools. I recognized my triggers, and I found my solution. You.”
Hell. Gone are the hard exteriors and tough shields I’ve gotten so used to Kira throwing up in my presence. In their absence, she’s soft, gooey and sincere, baring her heart to me. Her gorgeous grey eyes are glowing, incandescent and warm as she looks into mine. I inch forward in my seat so that our knees are brushing while I reach over to cup her cheek, loving the way she leans into my touch.
“Kira, Christ. You are so strong. So fucking brave. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, but goddamn, love, I am in awe of you.”
“Prove it. Take your pants off and show me,” she huffs, and I snort.
“Horny little pest,” I tut, shaking my head. “I promise, the pants will be coming off. But let me tell you something first, alright?”
She huffs again, rolling her eyes and sinking back into her chair like a brat. She must have given her fathers a run for their money as a girl, because dammit, her pouty face is effective. But what I have to say is important, so I tilt her chin and bring her focus back to me. I drop to my knees in front of her, because if ever there was a moment that called for a little physical groveling, it’s now.
“I didn’t know, Kira. At the wedding, I had no idea who you were beyond a friend of James. I knew Jonathan, and I knew of Spin Sync. The rumors of Jonathan wanting to sell had been floating around in my circles for a long time, but I had no idea your hat was in the ring. I didn’t even know what you did for work. I just knew the first time that I saw you that you were going to change everything for me.” My voice shakes, but I mean every word as I speak it. “I can prove it. I have all the documentation, all the correspondence between Jonathan and I that shows–”
“Ren,” she says, pressing a palm to my chest. I’m sure she can feel my racing heartbeat. “I know. I was fighting it before, but I believe you.”
“You believe me? Do you want to see the emails?” I reach for my phone, but she curls her fingers into the fabric of my shirt and pulls me closer.
“I don’t need to. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jonathan somehow knew about our hookup and reached out to you to mess with me, but I trust you. I decided to believe you. And I really hate being wrong, so I’m trusting you not to fuck this up.”
“I won’t fuck this up, Kira. If there is one thing I can promise, it’s that if you give me a chance, I will do everything in my power to do right by you.” Including giving her back what’s hers, but we’ll get there eventually.
“Good boy,” she pats my cheek, and fuck if the praise doesn’t have my cock twitching. “Now, stop fucking talking and fuck me, for fuck’s sake.”
“Christ, you’ve got a filthy mouth. I’m not fucking you for the first time on a plane seat where I don’t have the room I need to spread you out–”
“Bold of you to assume I’d let you be on top,” she mumbles, fiddling with the buttons of my shirt. I swat her away .
“I also don’t have a condom.” I didn’t think I had a chance in hell of needing one.
“I haven’t been with anyone since you. There was no one for a long time before that, either. And I have a semen scarecrow.”
“A semen—” I lean back, my face scrunching up in confusion. Kira sticks her arms out to the side, looking like the karate kid ready to perform a crane kick.
“A semen scarecrow. An IUD. I’m good.”
“Fuck,” I laugh, wiping a hand over my jaw. The thought of sinking into her bare…fucking hell yes, that will be happening. But not here. “When we get back to San Francisco, I am going to take you back to your pretty pink house, where I will fuck your pretty pink cunt on every surface until you’re hoarse from screaming my name. I promise you that.”
“You promised me orgasms!”
“And I plan to deliver, if you’d just be a good little pest and let me work.”
With that, my hands find the waistband of her skintight leggings, yanking them down along with her panties to her ankles. She scrambles to help me by kicking off her sneakers and pushing the leggings to the floor. I grab her hips, yanking her forward so her ass is on the edge of the leather seat. She spreads, and I’m gifted the sight of her gorgeous cunt, pink and glistening and begging for my tongue. I dive in, humming as I nose her clit and inhale her scent.
“For months, this is all I’ve thought about. All I’ve dreamt about. Every time I watched you riding your bike in those indecent little shorts, every time I’ve fucked my fist, it’s your taste on my tongue, your name on my lips when I come.”
“Oh my god, Ren, shut up,” she says as her fingers tangle in my hair, pushing my face directly into her soaked cunt.
“Fucking pest,” I chuckle, but my words are muffled as I focus on worshipping her with my lips and tongue. In my fantasies, I tease her, torture her, draw out her pleasure until she can’t take it anymore. But we’ve got an entire flight, and I’ve gone too long without my favorite dessert. Wrapping my lips around her swollen clit, I alternate between tight flicks of my tongue and sucking the sweet little bud. She gasps, fisting my hair and trying to draw me even closer.
I very well may drown in her, but fuck, what a way to go. I savor every lick, every taste of her. Her moans, her cries, every sigh of her pleasure travels right down my spine, leaving electric tingles in its wake. She tastes so fucking good, sounds so incredibly sexy that my cock is throbbing, weeping, aching to burst free of my pants and find a home inside her slick heat.
I can’t deny myself any longer. Quickly, I flick the button on my slacks and pull the zipper. I pull myself out and start to stroke. With my other hand, I slide two fingers into Kira’s hot pussy, groaning at the tight squeeze. I curl them towards me while licking her clit. She tugs on my hair, and I groan .
“Fuck, yes, darling. Pull my hair,” I grumble against all her delicious wetness.
She arches and bucks and shudders, spurring me on. I’m as desperate to give her the orgasm as she is to take it from me. I listen to her noises, every whimper and whine providing a roadmap for me to ramp up my efforts from soft, fluttering licks to hot and hungry sucks, lavishing her with my lips and my tongue. Her moans grown louder, her grinding more frantic, and all the while I fuck myself into my fist, unable to control myself. Kira goes wild, using my face as a toy, guiding me this way and that by the hold she has on my hair. I feel her inner walls flutter around my fingers as she arches, and then on a cry, she yells my name and falls apart on my tongue.
My balls tighten as she rocks against me, riding out the waves of her orgasm on my face. When her grip on my hair loosens, I pull back, my own release right fucking there. At some point in all the action, she ripped her shirt over her head and I’m greeted with the sight of her perfect breasts for the first time.
“God, these beautiful tits. I knew they were pierced. So fucking sexy, baby. You’re so–fuck!” My balls draw up tight at the sight, and I don’t know how I will manage to keep my orgasm at bay for another moment.
“You’re not the only one who likes a little sparkle, Ren,” she teases, fiddling with the shiny barbells with pink gems to match the one hanging from her belly button .
“I want to come on you. Please, can I come on you?” I ask, not caring how needy and pathetic I sound.
“God, yes. Come on my pussy, babe.” She lifts her heels, spreading her legs far enough for me to slot my body between. I shakily push to my feet and grip the back of her seat, holding on for dear fucking life as I stroke myself over top of her. My orgasm hits me like lightning, causing my knees to buckle and my vision to blur as I come, rope after rope of sticky white cum landing all over Kira’s pretty, bare cunt.
“Fuck, Kira. Fucking fuck, baby,” I grunt, all other words evading me as pleasure rips through me. Sweat rolls down my forehead as I return to Earth a panting, blithering mess. I sink back to my knees, resting my head on Kira’s leg. Her fingers return to my hair, this time gently caressing the sweat-slicked tresses instead of the frantic tugging of a moment ago.
“I should go get cleaned up,” she says softly after long moments of syncing our breaths. I turn my head to press a kiss to the soft skin of her inner thigh, then trailing those kisses closer and closer to her center.
“My precious little pest. I’ll take care of cleaning you up. I want to count how many times I can make you come on my face before we land in California.” I flatten my tongue, dragging it through her swollen lips and lapping up the salty sweetness of our combined releases from her flesh and bathing in the sweet sounds of her pleasure as we soar through the sky.