Chapter 44
FORTY-FOUR
Emerson
It’s Saturday, so traffic is light as Twila navigates from freeway to freeway on our drive down to San Diego. Yesterday, with Twila’s friends, was just for us. Today is for our fans and followers. We plan to shoot a ton of content as we explore the city like tourists.
The first thing we do is hit the zoo before it gets too hot and crowded.
We film our clasped hands as we walk the hilly paths from exhibit to exhibit.
I get a shot of Twila grinning widely as she feeds a giraffe.
We kiss on camera in the sky buckets. I kiss her again in a dark corner of the reptile house, just for us.
After a few hours and a few miles of walking, we leave the zoo and head for the Gaslamp for lunch.
We dine on a patio, eating surf & turf burritos and waffle fries, and our waitress instantly recognizes us, gushing over our fairytale romance and asking for a selfie.
We agree, and I can tell we’ve made her day.
It’s a bit surreal, like we’re playacting at being celebrities with dark sunglasses that do nothing to disguise our identities.
Later, at Seaport Village, we browse kitschy little shops and purchase matching “San Diego” hoodies to wear later when the sun starts to set and the ocean breeze turns colder.
We pay an artist to draw our caricature, then argue playfully over where in the house we’ll hang it.
I vote for the living room, and Twila argues heartily for the en suite bathroom––right above the toilet.
We laugh. We smile. We hold hands in a way that doesn’t feel as fake as it should.
We’re having so much fun, I keep forgetting to film more footage that we’ll need for our BingBang videos later.
We drive over the long bridge to Coronado and don our new hoodies as we walk the beach outside the Hotel Del and debate the reality of the ghosts purported to have been seen inside.
We take a Venetian-style gondola ride at sunset, and Twila sits in front of me, leaning back against my chest as my arms curl lightly around her.
For dinner, we go to Hover , a rooftop lounge Twila says Callie and Joey highly recommend. We can see straight down into the ballpark from our table, and Twila smiles at my excitement. There’s a game tonight, and I have the best seat, well, outside the house.
“Did you know the Dodgers were playing the Padres tonight when you planned this?” I ask her, giddy suspicion lacing my voice.
She simply grins and shrugs, letting me know that she did know. That she planned this particular dinner at this particular table just for me.
God, I want to kiss her.
So, I do.
And she kisses me back like nobody’s watching.
After dinner, we head back to Grenville, and I hold Twila’s hand for the entire ride.
Every time my thumb brushes over her knuckles, I see her shiver in response.
So, I keep doing it. She’s so keyed up by the time we merge onto highway seventy-eight, and I fucking love it.
I want to drive her wild, so I lick my lips and tighten my grip on her hand.
“The minute we get home,” I say in a low, deep voice, “I want you naked and sitting on my face.”
The car jerks to the left, then straightens out with an audible gasp from Twila. I watch her profile as she breathes through the shock of my words, then ever so slowly, she dips her chin into a nod.
“I want you to ride my lips and tongue until you come,” I say, keeping the same authoritative tone because I know she likes it as much as I do. “And then you’ll ride my cock until you come again.”
“Yes,” bursts out of her on a breath, and I have to push the heel of my hand against my sudden erection to ease the ache.
I’m still watching Twila, so I see her eyes follow the movement before she gulps and refocuses on the road. I want to touch her. To ask her to pull over onto a poorly lit side street so I can get started on my feast right now. I’m starved for it.
But waiting has its benefits, and by the time we pull into her driveway, we’re both vibrating with need. She rips her seatbelt free the second the car is in park, diving over the center console to press her mouth to mine. My hands tangle in her hair while her fists grip my shirt.
Her aggression is a catalyst that blasts me into orbit, and she’s a burning star I’d gladly revolve around for the rest of my life.
“In the house. Now,” I order between kisses, and Twila breaks away from me with a gasp before yanking on the handle to throw open her door.
She’s out and on her way to the front porch before I can even get mine open, and her eagerness drives me wild with desire.
Slamming the car door behind me, I jog to catch up.
I crowd her against the door as her trembling hands work to slide her key into the lock.
She leans back into me, rubbing her body against mine as I reach around to pry her keys from her tight fist.
“Remember what I said,” I whisper into her ear as I slide the housekey home. “Naked and riding my face until you come.”
“Yes. Please,” she stutters.
As soon as I get the door open, she’s off like a shot. Racing up the stairs, pulling her shirt over her head along the way.
Smiling, I lock the front door behind me, then slowly make my way to Twila’s bedroom.