Beauty and the Mustache (40 page)

Drew was the rain. I
needed his touch on every inch of my body, on every surface. I
needed him to cover me, saturate, flood and fill.

My words and nakedness
seemed to ignite a torrent within him because he grabbed me. His
hands searching, moving, pursuing, and chasing.

My fingers were greedy for
his skin, and I touched him. I needed the granite smoothness of his
torso, back, and chest. I needed the solid curves of his bottom and
thighs. I needed the silky hardness of his length. And when I
gripped him he gasped in my mouth, shuddering, his fingers flexing
and digging as though to anchor me to him, sink claws into my flesh
to halt any escape.

He turned me and I fell,
my back hitting the bed, and I watched him as he stripped off the
remainder of his clothes, but I couldn’t stop touching him. My
hands frenetic as they sought to steal caresses.

He was naked when he
joined me, and I had no time to delight in the sight of him because
the thirst was building. It burned low in my belly and wrapped
around my heart like a fist. I couldn’t breathe because I was
drowning in my own desire and need.

He kissed me while I
grabbed him, stroked him, held his body in my hands, and tried to
memorize every sensation. His mouth moved to my breast, and his
tongue, hot and wet and covetous, sampled me, savoring.

He kissed a path to my stomach, his hands
everywhere, and I knew his intent as he inched lower.

“
No, no—stay with me.” I
reached for his hands, his arms, whatever I could grab. “Stay up
here. I need you. I need you.”

With Drew, it wasn’t about
the pleasure of the act. It was about being
with
him, becoming with him. I needed
his heart next to mine, his mouth on my mouth.

“
Ash,” he came to me,
hearing my name on his lips was torture. “Sugar, I have no condoms.
I don’t, I haven’t-” I saw his throat work as he
swallowed.

“
I do.” I nodded
frantically. “I have them. I have condoms—in lots of different
sizes.”

He stared down at me, his eyes searching my
face. “You have condoms?”

“
Yes.” I kissed his
stunned mouth. “Don’t—just don’t ask.” I pushed on his chest,
jumped up from the bed, and flew to my bag, digging to the bottom
of it. My hand found the vibrator first and I pushed it to the
side. Then I found the packages of condoms, grabbed a handful, and
returned to the bed.

I was already tearing into
a package with my teeth when I returned to him, extracting the
sheath and reaching for his shaft. His hands came up to help but I
smacked them away, rolling the condom down the length of him, his
perfect head, the straight silky shaft, yet almost despairing when
I fully realized his largeness and length.

But then a miracle
happened. Because it fit. It fit perfectly. Bless Sandra and her
magnum sized condoms.

And hell, he was beautiful.

People may claim that talk
of condoms or safe sex makes the act less spontaneous and erotic.
Those people are wrong. Protection only ruins the mood when one
partner isn’t as committed to safety as the other is. Looking at
Drew, laying on his back, hard and prepped and ready for me; his
eyes echoing the intensity of my need, ready to fill me up and
quench this crippling desire—there was nothing more
erotic.

He reached for me and I
straddled him before he had a chance to turn me. Drew sat up,
grabbing my hips as I reached for his length. I brought him to my
apex, lowered myself, and threw my head back as he filled
me.

I gasped and he muttered a
curse. His mouth found my breast, licking and sucking and biting;
his fingers dug into my hips, then my ribs, then my bottom, wild
and needy. I stilled, adjusting to the invasion that I’d initiated,
then sunk lower, taking the entire length.

He cursed again, exhaling
the words like he couldn’t grasp what was happening, and his mind
fought for sanity in the face of insane desire. I lifted myself,
then lowered, then rocked, my hands on his shoulders, our bodies
rubbing together in a mutual caress.

Drew was the constant
gentle rolling thunder, the soft kind that is felt in the chest and
subtly shakes the ground.

Our breathing quickened. Despite the
chilliness of the night, our bodies were hot and slick, my
movements fumbling, rapacious, and clumsy.

I recognized the moment
his mind finally comprehended and accepted what we were doing, felt
it the second he took the reins. He overtook my maladroit lead,
assuming control and setting the rhythm. His hands were guiding
instead of searching, and he moved me how he liked, how he knew
would bring me the most pleasure and the most contact. He knew what
I needed, how I needed him.

He taught me that you
don’t dance in the fire; you dance in the rain.

I willingly surrendered.
Where he led, I followed. Where he pushed, I ceded. The rain became
torrential, a rising tide, a claiming swell, a violent
thing.

“
Ashley, look at me,” he
growled.

I gave him my eyes and we
clashed, silver against blue. The sounds I made were silent to my
ears, but I couldn’t hold them within as I surrendered to this
galvanized euphoria. My release came like a flash, a strobe, and it
stayed, claiming me again and again. It blinded me to everything
but him and his climax, the ecstasy he found in me and my
body.

Drew was the lightning,
harsh and painful and wonderful. Overwhelming bursts of piercing
brightness, frightening and beautiful in his intensity.

I’d thought of him as
grace in motion, but I was wrong.

Drew was poetry in motion.
Like his words, his lovemaking was a weapon.

The rain, like the flame,
is dangerous. But you don’t realize its power until it’s too
late.

***

The second time
we made love was just before sunrise.

I’d fallen into a deep
sleep, naked and wrapped in his limbs.

He woke me with tender
kisses on my neck, his skillful fingers between my legs. I turned
to him, my arms open, and pulled him to me.

The pace and rhythm were
slower, measured, and set entirely by Drew. It reminded me again of
a tango, artfully choreographed like he’d been planning the steps.
The kisses and touches were gentle, worshipful, prolonged. It was a
spring rain, bringing life to new blossoms.

My release was intense but
sweet and sustaining, like honey. And I drifted back to sleep,
feeling satiated in the moment.

I awoke with a start some time later.

I was alone. I was naked.
I was warm. And where Drew had slept was also warm, a clue that
he’d just recently left the bed.

I sat up, automatically
bringing the sheet with me, and glanced around the room. Red and
purple maples tapped against the window, the sun was bright, but
not terribly high in the sky. The sleep fog receded, and
reality—both good and bad and confusing—didn’t come crashing
down.

Rather, reality arrived
via swift, wonky UFO. My life was served to me on a bizarre platter
that I didn’t recognize. My mother was gone; today was her funeral.
Drew and I had made love together twice last night; tomorrow I
would say goodbye to my brothers and fly back to
Chicago.

Tomorrow I would leave Drew.

The door to my room was
closed; even so, I heard voices on the other side coming from
someplace in the house. I dressed quickly in my hastily discarded
clothes from the night before and walked to the door.

My hand hovered over the
handle, but I didn’t touch it. Instead, I stared at the wall and
let the weight of my decisions settle on my shoulders. I nearly
lost my breath.

I didn’t know what I was
doing. Drew had left me again with no map. But that was my fault,
because I was a big girl and knew how to work a GPS. I shouldn’t
have relied on him to be my compass.

Gathering my courage and my resolve to plot
my own course, I opened the door and, having never found myself in
this kind of situation before, I walked as naturally as possible
down the hall.

The voices grew louder as
I approached the kitchen, and I recognized them at once. My
brothers were here—all six of them.

I peeked around the corner
and my suspicions proved true. All six of my brothers were there,
plus Drew, plus Alex and Sandra.

Alex saw me first. He was
about to wave, but I shook my head frantically and withdrew further
into the hallway. I didn’t know how to do this. I didn’t know how
to walk in there and act natural.

Drew had a history of
announcing things before discussing them with me, like how he’d
told Beau that his feelings for me were not sisterly. Therefore, I
worried that he would immediately tell the room that we’d
consummated our relationship. Also, I worried that he
wouldn’t
tell the whole
room that we’d consummated our relationship.

What if he was having
regrets? What if our night together didn’t mean to him what it
meant to me?

And, by the way, since I was thinking on the
matter, what did our night together mean to me? What was my
opinion?

The vital point being, I
was freaked out and flustered and overwrought and emotional, and
wished my GPS wasn’t on the fritz.

I heard footsteps approach so I turned and
prepared to flee into the bathroom, but a hand caught my arm and
turned me around.

“
Ashley, what’s wrong? Are
you okay?” Upon seeing Alex, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. He
was the most benign of all potential males currently inhabiting the
house.

I pressed my finger to my lips and motioned
for him to follow, pulling him into the library and shutting the
door.

I should admit that Alex
was striking in that he looked like a dangerous, sexy hooligan;
tall with a swimmer’s build, dark blue eyes that were sometimes
violet, jet black hair, and a ragged scar that ran from his chin to
his neck. He was also five years younger than me and almost eight
years younger than his wife, my good friend Sandra.

Oh, and his voice melted
butter. Seriously.

“
Hey….” His eyes narrowed
on me. “Is everything okay? Other than the obvious.”

Oh, and he often lacked
customary social skills like appropriate displays of sympathy
and/or empathy.

I nodded, releasing a
breath. “Yeah, I guess so…when did you all get here?”

“
Just a few minutes ago. I
stayed with your brothers last night at the house. You now have
free access to that streaming video website you like. Also, the
NSA’s black ops fund has made a contribution to National Cervical
Cancer Coalition in the name of your mother.”

Oh, and he was a genius.

My eyebrows lifted, “Alex.
Don’t do that. That’s stealing.”

“
Which part?”

“
All of it.”

“
Fine.” He frowned,
looking annoyed. “Why are we hiding in here?”

“
We’re not hiding. I
just—I’m just not ready to face everyone.”

His frown flattened as he studied me.
“Why?”

I ignored his question. This could go on all
day. “Why is everyone here? I thought the plan was to meet at the
house.”

He shrugged, stuffing his
hands in his pockets. “Something about your crazy dad. He came by
last night. I don’t think your brother wants him to follow the
funeral procession. By the way, do you want me to ruin his credit
score? I could erase him from the central databases.”

“
No. He ruined his own
credit score years ago, and there’s a high possibility he’s wanted
for some crime some place. Best to leave him in the central
databases. So, uh,” I glanced over Alex’s shoulder, “Is Drew out
there?”

“
Yeah.” Alex looked
thoughtful for a moment. “Do you think he’ll take me fishing? I’ve
never been fishing.”

I squinted at him and his randomness.
“Fishing?”

“
Yeah. Maybe Sandra and I
could come back with you when you visit. Drew is good people, and
he seems like he’d be really good at fishing. We couldn’t fish
today, obviously; we don’t have time. He mentioned about you coming
back with us today. It’ll be nice to have you back. You’re better
at chess than Nico.”

My body froze like I’d
been doused with ice water, but my eyes immediately cut back to
Alex. “What?”

“
You know, Quinn’s plane.
We all flew down together. You’re coming back with us.”

I stared into Alex’s
violet eyes for a beat, hoping that I’d misunderstood him. “To
Chicago?”

He narrowed his gaze on
me. “Yes…to Chicago. Where else would we be going?”

“
Today?”

He nodded, stuffing his
hands in his pockets. “That’s right. Drew and Quinn arranged it
all.”

I exhaled and felt like my heart left my
body with the breath. “Drew did? Drew arranged it?”

Alex
tsked
. “Yeah. Like I said, it was
Drew’s idea.”

I glared at Alex, but I
didn’t really see him.

It was Drew’s idea. Drew
wanted me to leave today. I was leaving for Chicago today, and it
was Drew’s idea.