2. One Giant Leap
TWO
ONE GIANT LEAP
Rose
I’m glad he waited until I managed to shimmy out of my Spanx before following me back here. ’Cause that would’ve just been awkward.
Focus . I settle back into the moment, concentrating on what my hand is doing to my clit. But my mindfulness falters when Bodie drops to his knees in front of me.
The light from the outside barn spotlight picks up on the satisfied gleam in his eyes and the flick of his tongue across his lips.
I nearly come.
“Show me.” His eyes are focused on my damp hand circling my clit.
Part of me is disappointed. I’ve been hoping to see what he could do. Wondering if he was all good looks and no sack skills, or if he’d live up to his dreamy potential like so few of them do.
The other part of me mentally shrugs because this means less work for me. Because if he isn’t gonna do any work, then I’m not gonna do any when I’m done. He’s made his choice. He can just make do with his own hand.
I press three fingers over my clit and rub. Back and forth, stopping only to thrust inside every time I feel close. Enjoying Bodie’s rapt attention. Wanting to prolong the moment. Bask in it.
Mr. Astronaut’s heavy breathing tells me he’s into what he sees. Though he isn’t doing anything but holding my dress up higher.
Figures.
Whatever. Concentrate .
I rub faster, building the fire in me like the Girl Scout I never was.
So close, just a little more…
Bodie’s breath blows over my clit, the cool tingle at odds with the heat building inside.
Bam .
My whole body arches and tightens, and warmth flows through my veins while light dances behind my eyelids. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”
I love this part, the nearly painful, mind-numbing pleasure. The electric current that shocks my system into a state of happiness I have yet to find anywhere else in my life.
Though Bodie’s fingers dig deeper into my hips as I hump the air, my pleasure looking for something to latch on to, the rest of him stays still.
Too soon, the good feelings drift away, the details of my surroundings settling back down on me like a heavy dose of gravity.
The man before me has his eyes raised to mine now. God, they’re soulful. He really is one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen.
Too bad he’s lazy in bed.
“Okay, old man, you’ve had your show. Better get off your knees before you can’t get back up—what the?—!”
Bodie dives forward, sucking at my clit.
“Wait, wait.” My fingers sift through his hair, pulling. “I just came!”
But he isn’t listening, and neither is my body. Any other time I get greedy and try for a double hitter, my body screams at me.
Bodie has my body screaming in a different way.
I sink back against the wall and let him take control. He does something magical with his tongue that’s a combination of a flick and a swish that steals my breath.
He throws one of my legs over his shoulder and thrusts two fingers inside me.
“Fuuuuuuck.” My hips start riding his face, my hands, still speared through his hair, holding on for balance.
He growls. Whether it’s from the pain of my hair grabbing or pleasure at me being so worked up, I don’t know. And frankly, I don’t care. Because I’m coming again, and it is ten times more glorious than the first.
If I took a selfie right now, it would probably look like I’m dying, no matter what filter I use.
Hashtag O face.
And I am dying. I swear I am. I can’t breathe, I can’t think. I can only feel . Feel his lips sucking my clit. His fingers inside me, curling and pressing over that sensitive spot. His other hand holding up my dress while grabbing hard on to the meat of my hip. Everything feels so. fucking. good.
When my body stops twitching and the leg holding me up starts to give out, Bodie rises, holding me to him, rubbing my back.
I wait for him to say something cocky. Something unnecessary to hammer home the point that he wasn’t just all talk. That he made good on his guarantee.
You know, ruin the moment like I would if I were him.
He doesn’t.
His silent victory over my lady parts makes him more impressive.
I push Bodie back, a sly smile fixed in place. “Your turn.”
Vance
“Hmm, where shall we do it?” Rose steps out of my embrace and circles the room.
How she can act like she didn’t almost collapse from pleasure is a mystery. I can barely move I’m so turned on, and it wasn’t even my orgasm.
She slaps a saddle sitting on a sawhorse. “How ’bout it?”
My balls retract just looking at the hard, worn leather saddle. “How ’bout not?”
Rose nods, looking me, and then the saddle, over. “Yeah, that might be pushing it for a man of your age.”
“Excu—”
“Honestly, I didn’t think you had the cojones to come back here with me, so I didn’t exactly think it through.”
“I—”
“And I’m not about to lie down on the floor.” She spins around. “I mean, I’m sure it’s been swept, but I don’t trust it.” She lifts her eyes from the floor to the ceiling, contemplating.
I give up and just watch her pace. I’m obviously no help. One, I don’t know this area like she seems to. And two, the lone stream of light through the window exposes the silhouette of Rose’s body through her bridesmaid gown, making my brain unable to function.
“Big House it is then.” Rose stalks over to the curtain dividing us from the rest of the wedding, breaking my stare.
“Big house?” What the hell does a prison have to do with anything?
She continues to ignore me and finds the divide, peeping out into the reception.
“We’re in the clear. People are still dancing.
” She opens the curtains wider, scanning the room.
“The other bridesmaids are with the groomsmen busy being couples in love, so no one will look for me for a while.” From the tone of her voice, I’d bet money she’s rolling her eyes.
“I’ll go first, then you follow after.” She steps out, calling out over her shoulder, “Meet you on the porch.”
“What porch?” But my words hit the curtains, which are falling back into place.
I’ve been left alone, in a barn, with a hard-on.
I adjust myself, sighing when no matter which leg hole I put it in, my dick still wants to jut out.
Suit pants really aren’t helping the situation.
Shrugging out of my jacket, I drape it over my arm and walk with it held in front of me.
The thought of walking into the wedding like this, like a pre-pubescent kid in high school, makes me want to rethink the saddle option.
Luckily, just as Rose said, no one is looking toward the back of the barn. Almost all the guests are on the dance floor doing the electric slide. Even Chief Astronaut Luke Bisbee, nearly seven feet tall, is rocking back and forth to the music, making everyone else look like his minions.
A flurry of coral fabric draws my eye to Rose at the door. She’s waving her arm at a passing waiter.
Trying to look nonchalant so as not to draw attention to myself but walk fast enough to get out of here before someone spots me covering up my hard-on, I follow in Rose’s wake.
Successfully flagging down the waiter, Rose scoffs and gestures to the bridal table. “Can you believe some asshole drank all the bridal table’s champagne?”
The waiter, holding a tray of bacon wrapped asparagus, gawks at her. Probably because she’s reaching into her cleavage as she speaks.
“I know, right.” Rose rolls her eyes. “Some people.” Her hand emerges, holding a roll of fifties. “But we can’t let the bridal table go without champagne, can we?” She puts her non-money holding hand around the waiter, drawing him in like a close friend.
“Good man.” She flutters her lashes. “I knew I could count on you.” Pulling back, she pats him on the shoulder, and the poor kid nearly drops his asparagus. “Better just bring a whole bottle on ice for the table, huh?” Rose peels off two fifties, setting them down between hors d’oeuvres.
As soon as the fifties drop onto his tray, the waiter snaps to. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll get right on it.” And without waiting for a reply, he scurries away, nearly bowling over another waiter, this one with shrimp cocktails.
She turns to me with such force her skirt flares out, and I back up a step, worried she may damage my still hard junk. I thought my dick would’ve calmed down by now, but watching this girl walk, talk, take control, and hell, just go about her life has me just as hard as I was before.
“Have you ever heard of subterfuge, Bodie?”
“Excuse me?”
She rolls her eyes. “Good thing all the love birds are still distracted by classic eighties line dancing.” She grabs my arm not holding my jacket in front of me and leads me out the door.
“Might as well just go out together. But if someone sees me and I have to explain why I was walking to the Big House with you, I’m not going to be happy. ”
This is new. Someone who doesn’t want to be seen with an astronaut.
I find that amusing rather than off-putting.
In fact, I’m so busy musing on how different this hook-up has gone in contrast to all my other hook-ups that I don’t even register where we are going.
Until we reach the porch of the West mansion.
Rose leaps up the steps and hurries to the front door. I’d be impressed with the flawless landing in her high heels if I wasn’t worried about where we are.
I pause on the step she jumped over. “You aren’t serious, are you?”
She stops, screen door half open. “About what?”
“Do you seriously want to break into the West mansion to have sex?”
She opens her mouth, then closes it, a smile curling up her face. The spotlight out front highlights the dimple in her left cheek. “No, old man, we’re breaking into the West mansion to have sex.” And with that, she pushes open the front door, once more leaving me to follow.
I run a hand down my face, both amused and annoyed with myself. Because I know myself well enough to know that there is no way I’m not entering. Muttering, “One giant step for me, one giant leap for my dick,” I enter the ‘Big House.’