Boy in a Band (A Morgan Mallory story) (41 page)

             
“That’s fine.”

             
Mathew glanced at me and smiled then pulled out his wallet and paid.

“Down the hall on the left
,” the clerk said, going back to his book.

             
When we got to door number seven, Mathew used the key to open it. The lights inside were dim. The room consisted of an open shower, a round wooden hot tub, and a vinyl-covered bench slightly wider than a twin bed. It was sparse and a bit clinical.

             
“Who comes here?” I asked.

             
“I think it’s mostly gay men.”

             
“How do you know about a place like this?”

             
“Well certainly not because I’m gay,” he said, taking me in his arms. “I pass it daily on the bus. I asked.”

“Sure
, it’s probably a local hang-out for you,” I teased.

He leaned in and kissed me.

“Nope, never been here before. Just saw the signs, hot tub rental by the hour. As much as I’d love to take you to dinner and maybe the Hyatt, under the circumstances I figured this might just do.”

             
He slipped of his shoes and socks, and started taking off his tie, then his dress shirt and pants, hanging them carefully on the hooks on the wall. I sat down on the bench and watched. It all seemed very humorous to me, and when he stood naked, I started to laugh.

“Morgan
, stop finding this so damn funny. We don’t have a lot of time.”

He climbed into the hot tub as I stood up.

              “I know. I can’t help it,” I said, taking off my clothes. “I feel like we’re on some stake out rather than some romantic, sexy adventure. Oh, I must have forgotten who I’m with.”

             
He gave me a cheesy grin as I took off my clothes. The more I thought about who came to these types of places, the less I wanted to get in the hot tub, even if he was in it. I shivered.

             
“I don’t want to get in there; the ick factor is too high for me. Come over here,” I said, covering the bench with our towels. “Sure hope the towels are clean.”

             
“Not a particularly good time for you to get squeamish,” he said, getting back out of the tub.

He was bein
g patiently frustrated with me. I lay down on the bench on my side as he climbed out.

             
“Rinse off in the shower real quick,” I ordered. “I’m afraid of what’s in that water.”

             
“For fuck sake,” he said.

             
“Something like that, do it,” I laughed.

             
He came to me, wet from the shower and lay down next to me on the towels.

             
“Does this work for you, princess?” he teased.

             
“Yeah,” I said, pulling him to me.

             
When skin touched skin, the years melted away. I was stunned at how we went right back to us.
How he could take me to places no one had. How he could take me back, make me completely lose myself to him.
I thought about something he said so long ago. I thought about Gayle’s question of love.

             
“Love me,” I said simply.

             
He made love to me like a man possessed, not fast and rough, but lustful and passionate. Taking my body soaring, making my skin tingle with desire. I figured he had gone without for a long time. It was easy for me to go with him, fit right with his rhythm. I was as hungry for him as he was for me. Just as the gasp escaped from his chest that I’d taken him over the edge, my body arched into his exploding in orgasm.

He rolled to the side and held me to him our
chest rising and falling. He tenderly kissed my forehead, and eyelids, and nose and when our breathing returned to normal he led me to the shower.

             
“My god, I’ve missed you. I miss you right now, because I know you’re going home,” he said, the hunger still evident in his voice.

He rubbed my body with
the soap, slowly, very slowly, feeling my breasts, my back, my ass. His hands stroking my skin. Up my thighs just close enough to make me suck in my breath, but not touching. It was like a dance expertly performed. I could feel the longing pool in my stomach and race down between my legs. The warm water ran down between the two of us.

             
“Mathew,” I whispered, taking his cock in my hand.

             
I was pleasantly surprised to find he was already so hard again and I pressed my body into his and kissed him fervently. He took my tongue in his mouth and caressed it with his. I ran my hands around his shoulders, his neck, down his back, over his ass, feeling his skin and the muscles beneath it. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I pulled him back towards the bench.

              “I wish we had more time,” I whined as we dressed.

             
“We will,” he said, as he tied his tie.

             
My hair was partially wet as was his from rinsing off again in the shower. I looked in the small mirror on the wall, my neck and cheeks were pink and I felt warm.

             
“Do I have that well-laid look?” I teased turning to him.

             
He glanced at me and grinned and then looked in the mirror and adjusted his tie.

“I bet they
're used to that look around here,” he said.

Apparently happy with his tie he took me in his arms
kissing me, his hunger still not appeased.

              I dropped him off behind his office. It had to be quick, in hopes no one saw us. I went to the farthest part of his parking lot. He looked into my eyes and took my hand.

             
“Morgan, thanks,” he said. “Thanks for coming. Thanks for saying
yes
. Thanks for everything.”

             
“You should thank Sara. She’s the one who called,” I said, pushing on his chest. “Get, you need to go.”

              “I’ll call you next week, I promise,” he said hastily getting out of the car.

I believed him
. I watched him walk through the parking lot and through the back door of the building. I leaned my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes. The smell of him still lingered in the car, the lemon, vanilla, combined with the soap from the shower. I pictured him playing his guitar on the beach, the firelight dancing off his face. I wanted to see that again.

Chapter
46

He called Wednesday
, and I missed his call. He told my mom he would call Thursday at six. He had a limited time span to make calls out, and I couldn’t call in. We laughed about our escapade, but he was serious about how much it meant to him. No one had discovered that he was missing, and his outlook had improved. We kept in close contact over the next three months.

             
I was so busy with school and work; the time went really fast. Not so much for him. It was spring when he was released, and he was determined to get his life on track. He started law school and was working full-time. He went to meet and apologize to the woman he hit and was still paying off his restitution.

             
“Come for a weekend. I’ll send you a ticket,” he said.

I flew in on a Friday after school
, and Mathew was waiting at the gate. He was wearing jeans and a turquoise shirt with white buttons, which set off his eyes and blonde hair. He smiled when he spotted me and I felt my heart flutter.

             
“You look fantastic,” I said as I reached him, giving him the once-over.

             
“Thanks. Wasn’t much to do in there but use the gym or watch TV.”

             
“Gym I take it. It shows.”

He was pleased that I
noticed. He gave me a quick kiss and took my hand as we headed in the direction of baggage. When we got in his car, he leaned over and kissed me more completely. By the time we were through my heart was racing. I reached up and cupped the side of his face.

“You’re the best kisser
,” I said.

             
He gave me his lazy sexy grin.

             
“I got us a room at the Hyatt for the weekend.”

             
“You did?” I asked surprised. “No Jack’s?”

             
“I wanted nicer. I wanted to have you all to myself,” he said.

             
His words charmed me and I envisioned the last time we’d stayed at the Hyatt. Could picture the room with its reds and golds, the comfortable bed, with the cottony linens.

             
“All righty then, the Hyatt. Remember after Melanie’s wedding?”

             
He’d started the car and was backing out of the parking space, but stopped and glanced at me quickly.

“I remember
,” he said, smiling. “Every bit of it, especially knowing from the minute I held you in my arms on the dance floor, that you had nothing on under your pretty dress. That kid, I could not get off my mind.”

He reached out and
pinched my chin affectionately.

“I
convinced myself that nothing would happen between us. Over and over I told myself, no way. I thought Max being in my life, my feelings for you would be gone. When you asked me to come with you, I knew I shouldn’t. I knew if I did, I would cross the line. I’ve never been able to trust myself around you.”

“What changed your mind?”
he asked, resuming backing out.

             
“The minute I saw you,” I said. “When you looked at me from across the room, I was like
holy shit
. Every time you caught my eye I had to remember to breathe.”

             
He chuckled. It was a beautiful sunny day, although the air was a little crisp. I knew by nightfall it would be really cool and I imagined us wrapped up around each other keeping warm.

             
“I didn’t think you would leave with me, but I was willing to risk asking. Then when you said
yes
, I wasn’t sure where to go that I wouldn’t blow my chance,” he said.

“Your chance
?” I asked, adjusting myself sideways in my seat, so I could look at him. “You did plan on getting me into bed.”

             
“I told you that night I didn’t plan it. I hadn’t seen you in years. I knew about Max. How could I have possibly planned?”

             
“Okay, fair enough,” I chuckled.

             
“Didn’t mean I wasn’t hoping,” he teased. “I got the same room.”

             
“Mathew.”

             
“You complaining already?” he teased.

             
“Not complaining,” I said, thinking it was thoughtful.

             
Flowers and a bottle of chardonnay sat on the table. This was a new Mathew, one that wanted to make things nice, wanted to please me. One I’d just had a rare glimpse of in this same room years ago. It made my heart sing.

             
“Wanting to get lucky tonight, are you?” I asked.

             
“Tonight, kid, I’m planning on it.”

             
I moved to him and put my arms around his neck.

             
“Kiss me like you used to, take me down that road of rocking my world,” I begged.

He obliged
, making my knees weak. I unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders, down his arms to the floor. I kissed his neck and shoulders, licking, tasting his skin. He buried his fingers in my hair, as I continued down his chest. My body was screaming for me to tear his clothes off, take him, but my mind wanted it slow. I wanted him to beg. When I got to the top of his jeans, I knelt on the floor and unbuttoned them. I could hear him suck in his breath as I pulled the stiff fabric down. I smiled when he was commando, remembering my dress. His hands fell as I put his hard cock in my mouth. I ran my tongue around it slowly, sucking lightly at the same time.

“Oh
, Morgan,” he moaned.

Before I could finish
, he reached for me, pulling me up, kissing me again, that kiss. My heart was racing, my body on fire with desire as I watched him step out of his jeans and walk to the bed. He tore back the bedspread and lay down on his side looking at me, his eyes undressing me where I stood. He beckoned me with his finger and when I reached the bed he tried to pull me to him, but I turned and pushed him away. He looked surprised.

             
“Watch,” I demanded.

             
He grinned and his pupil’s got large. He moved up the bed leaning back into the pillows, and I slowly unbuttoned my blouse, revealing a sexy black-and-red bra of satin and lace. I held his gaze as I unhurriedly took the blouse off, opening it, pushing it off my shoulders, letting it fall down my arms. He blinked slowly as I stood in my bra and tight jeans. I ran my hands down my thighs and then bent forward slightly to unbuttoned my jeans, peeling them down to reveal a pair of matching panties. He started to say something, and I put my finger to my lips. He watched as I took the jeans off. I stood in my bra and panties and turned around, letting him admire.

“I like it
,” he said huskily, moving toward me.

             
“You, stay right there,” I commanded.

He looked at me in
intense concentration. I climbed on the bed and starting at his feet, I ran my bra covered breasts over them, up his legs, then let his cock feel the softness of the satin and the coarseness of the lace.

“Um,”
he uttered.

I
touched and slinked my way further up his body. I pulled his arms above his head and pinned them there. His eyes were wild with desire and it made me shudder. I ran my tongue around his lips as I straddled his body, not allowing him to kiss me. He moaned slightly. He tried to move his arms, and I applied pressure.

             
“No, Mathew,” I whispered. “No touching until I say so.”

             
I rocked back settling more on his stomach than his crotch, but I could still feel part of his hard cock through my panties. From my position on top of him, I stared into his eyes; I could feel his need, the small tremors racking his body.

             
“Watch.”

             
Starting at the base of my neck, I ran my hands down my body, slowly, teasingly over my bra, and down my sides, over my stomach to my crotch. I paused, slipping a finger briefly under the panties. I ran my hands down my thighs ultimately shifting my hands from me to him. I felt up his chest, taking his arms, pulling them toward me. I took his hands in mine and made him follow the same path I’d showed him on my body, although I didn't allow him to linger. I rose up on my knees moving back so that I sat directly on his hard cock. The crotch of my panties was wet and I couldn’t help but press into him. I unclasped my bra and took it off, taking his hands, cupping them over my bare breasts. He pinched my nipples between his fingers and rolled them. I stared into his eyes, as my nipples got hard from his touch.

             
“Mathew,” I breathed out.

My body ached with desire
. I rocked on him slightly and then leaned forward, pressing my lips into his. He pushed his tongue deep in my mouth as he slipped his fingers under my panties and then into me. I moaned, feeling his fingers inside me moving side to side. I was beyond excited, I needed him inside me. I drew his hand up and pulled the panties to one side of my leg. Not bothering to take them off I guided his hardness into me. He bucked up, thrusting into me. Then again and again. I rode him with an urgency I hadn’t felt in a long time. Faster and harder. He let me take us right to the edge before he grabbed my hips firmly, grinding me onto him.

“A
hhh,” I groaned, arching my back.

             
I collapsed on top of him, feeling weak, both of us breathing hard. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight to him. I stayed there, my face buried against his neck.

             
“Don’t ever fuck me like one of your groupies again,” he said.

             
I raised my face to look at him, and we both laughed out loud.

             
“Remember that?” I asked.

             
“Oh, it was quite the comment after hot passionate sex.”

             
“Is that what it was? Up against the door and rough,” I teased.

             
He slapped my ass.

“Ouch.”

I rolled off him, took the panties off, and nestled into the crook of his arm.

“Cute little get
-up,” he said.

I looked up at him and smiled.

              “You like?”

             
“Yeah, I like.”

             
“I thought you might. I bought it special,” I said.

             
“You have more?” he asked.

             
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

             
He moved from me and got up from the bed walking to the table. He opened the wine, and poured one glass.

             
“None for you?”

             
“I’m trying not to for a while,” he said, bringing the wine glass to me.

             
“I understand.”

             
“Let’s shower and do dinner downstairs in the dining room,” he said.

              We spent the weekend as a couple, and it was weird for me, but in a good way. We went to the park. We shopped. We went out to eat. And Sunday arrived too soon; a weekend just didn’t seem long enough. Again we were sharing moments. We lounged in bed and he ordered room service for breakfast.

             
“You’ve spoiled me. I love it,” I said.

He looked seriously at me across the small table.

“Morgan, what would you think about moving back to San Jose?” he asked.

It
was so out of the blue.

             
“Why would I do that? I just started State this year.”

              “You could transfer to San Jose State, and we could get a place together. I can support you while you finish school,” he said.

             
I was shocked. I stared at him. No words were coming, and the seconds passed. I could tell he wasn’t getting the immediate response he wanted.
Move back to San Jose?
Our worlds had been separate for so long. My winter in Park City had forced me to grow up a bit and I’d made what I thought were adult decisions. To go back to school and get my finance degree; I’d laid out a plan for me, and now he wanted me to change it.

             
“Think about it, okay?” he asked, his expression one of uncertainty.

             
“Okay,” I managed to say.

             
My head was spinning.
Where had this come from? Me come live with him?
I climbed back into the bed, pulling the covers around me, a place of comfort.