Gus (3 page)

I slide into the left side of the bed, because she always sleeps on the right. With the moonlight filtering in through the blinds, I can just make out her silhouette as she slips her shorts down her legs. It's a quick movement, but it's playing out in slow motion for me. When they drop to her ankles I feel the familiar tug of arousal stirring. My gaze is trained on her as her hands disappear behind her back and she slides each bra strap down her arms from under her tank top. With straps free, she reaches up under her tank top and magically her bra appears in her hand. Dropping it on top of her duffle bag with her shorts, she walks toward the bed. With the moonlight on her, I can see her little pink cotton panties. Whoever said cotton panties aren't sexy hasn't seen Bright Side in a pair of them. Shit. I may be in trouble. Full-on boner is taking shape and I've got nowhere to hide. Then I peek at her tank top. It's pale yellow and thin from frequent washings. She's had it for years. Her nipples, dark and so beautiful, strain against the worn material. Closing my eyes, I quietly take a few deep, calming breaths. I'm talking to myself inside my head, "Get your shit together, dude. It's Bright Side. You've seen her in a bikini a million times." But goddamn this is different, so I add, "She doesn't know you can see her, perv. Stop gawking," and then, because my dick is doing most of my thinking for me at the moment, I add, "at her gorgeous fucking body."
 

As soon as she's under the covers, she scoots over to my side and presses up against me searching for warmth. The cool sheets make her shiver, like they always do, as she drapes her arm across my chest and rests her head on my shoulder. I wrap my arm that's under her around her back and rest my hand on her hip, and when I do, all is right in the world.

Her voice is only a whisper when she speaks. It's quiet, but it tears open the night. "I'm gonna miss you, dude. So much."

Kissing her forehead, I whisper back, "Me too. You have no idea."
 

"You'll have to buy one of those ginormous pillows or an inflatable doll to snuggle when I'm gone."

I laugh, because of course she would make a joke right now. "Think I can find one that talks and farts in its sleep, just, you know, so it's a realistic stand-in for you?"

She slaps my stomach, but she's laughing. "Shut. Up. I do not. Gracie would've told me."

The logic behind her denial makes me laugh even harder and I confess, "You don't. I was kidding."

With a contented smile playing at her lips, she rolls over to her other side and I follow suit. The beast in my underwear has calmed down, so I pull her into me and spoon her. This is how we always fall asleep. She feels so good in my arms that I would swear God made her just for me. Pressing my forehead against the back of her head, I can't help but feel melancholy. And then it hits me again. She's leaving. Bright Side is leaving. When I kiss the back of her head it feels eerily final. It's intuition; that my heart quickly pushes aside. "I love you, Bright Side."

She rubs her hand over the back of my hand that's pressed against her stomach. It's a loving gesture. Just like everything else she does. "I love you, too, Gus." Bright Side has always known how to make people feel loved. She's so damn good at it.

When her hand stills, I realize that her tank top has shifted up slightly and my pinkie and ring finger are resting against her bare skin, just above the top edge of her panties. I've touched her skin a million times. But not like this.
 

And dammit, the tug starts in my groin again. It's a rapid ache and it's building fast. To avoid embarrassment and further stimulation, I slide my hips back so I'm not pressed up against her. But I can't help myself and my hand starts moving. It's a bold, but subtle, selfish, but giving gesture meant to sooth us both. Every ounce of concentration I have is laser-focused on that one-inch strip of Bright Side. My fingertips float over her skin, savoring it. She's so soft. After I stroke back and forth a few times, I realize she feels tense in my arms, so I stop. "Sorry," I whisper. But when I lift my hand, she takes it and guides me back, offering permission. Without a moment's thought, I take it. This time I sneak under the hem of her shirt so that my entire hand, fingers and palm, are touching her. Light as a ghost, gliding over her skin but increasing incrementally, driven by spontaneous purpose, until my fingers are spread out in an act of tactile adoration and satisfaction. We're both breathing more heavily now. And though she's relaxed somewhat in my arms, I can feel each inhalation reach her belly. Each breath is slow and measured. Bright Side is only slow and measured when she's concentrating on something.

When I drag my hand across her belly again my thumb traces the underside of her breast. Her breath stutters and my dick hardens instantly. I know she feels it, the tip has breached the waistband and it's straining painfully against the elastic restraint. At the same time I pull my groin back farther, she reaches back over my hip and pulls me into her.
 

I can't help the deep groan that rushes out of my mouth when I'm pressed up against her ass. It's relief paired with physical stimulation, a need both being met and intensified simultaneously. I feel her sigh under my hand. She's with me. Then, because it feels so damn good, I roll my hips a few times. Jesus Christ, I must've died and gone to heaven.
 

And I never want to leave.

Her hand slides back until she's palming my ass cheek. My hips are engaged, slow and wanting, grinding against her. When she lifts her tank top over her breasts and directs my hand to her, I don't hesitate. I take her in my hand and stroke her gently before plucking her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. It hardens under my touch and she moans.
 

Oh fuck
. That moan just killed me. She's the sexiest damn woman on Earth. That moan was proof.

I can't take it anymore. I whisper, "I need to touch you."

She nods and it's more than permission, it's agreement.
 

I slip my hand down the front of her panties and tease her with my fingers, which sets her lower body in motion. I answer her physical plea and let my fingers slide lower. She parts her legs and welcomes me. She's so wet. I circle her a few times before diving in and she meets every plunge with her hips. "Gus?"

"Yeah?" My voice is hazy and faint, lost in this mutual attraction.

"I need you to kiss me." I've never heard that voice come from between her lips—it's lust. And it makes me envy every guy whose ears it ever fell upon before mine.

I've never wanted anything more in my life. Slipping my fingers out of her, I shift so she can roll to her back. I'm propped up on my elbow, looking down at her. "You're so beautiful." It's so quiet I don't think she'll even hear me.

The slight smile on her face tells me she did.

Goddamn, I've dreamt about this moment forever. Kissing Bright Side. If I'm gonna do this, I'm gonna do this right. While she's lying on her back, I rise up and climb over her so I'm on my hands and knees hovering above her. I take her face in my hands and I thank God for what's about to happen. And then I close my eyes and lower my lips to hers. Kissing her softly, I part her lips with my tongue. When her tongue meets mine, I know she's right there with me. Kissing has never, ever, been like this for me. I can literally see fireworks behind my eyelids. I love this girl. I love every last thing about her. And what I love most right now is kissing her. How she meets every move I make with one of her own. How when I pick up the pace and intensity, she matches it.
 

After a few minutes of kissing, I'm so fucking horny I can't see straight. My entire body is humming. I grasp the hem of her tank in my hand and tug, asking between feverish kisses, "Off?"

She answers breathlessly, "Yes."

With the tank top history, all I want is to feel her skin against mine. Rolling over, I pull her on top and she drops all of her weight on me, one knee on either side of my hips. And if it's possible, I'm even more turned on with her in the dominant position. Her nipples rub against my chest, the telltale reminder of her arousal dragging deliciously across my skin, heightening every nerve in my body. They're screaming out in raging pleasure. Pulling her back in for a kiss, I slam her mouth to mine. The kiss is deep and demanding. She wants this, too. Her body is rocking against me. Reaching down between us I pull the waistband of my boxer briefs down so my shaft is exposed. It's one more barrier down and it feels so good. Then I move my hand to her back and run my fingers up and down trying to mentally ease up and put myself back in the game. I've been out of my mind for the past few minutes and I want to make this last and remember every single second. Every single detail. I only get one shot at this. I know that. I want it to be perfect for her. She's trailing kisses down my neck to my chest now, alternating between gentle, adoring pressure from her lips; to stinging, playful nips from her teeth; to sexy, tortuous teasing from her tongue. Reveling in the euphoria she's creating with her mouth, I run my hand down her back, over her panties, and nudge the thin fabric aside between her legs. When I start stroking her with my middle finger, I can't take it anymore. I need these damn things off. I reach for the waistband with both hands at the same time she reaches for the waistband of mine. Apparently great minds think alike. Without pause, she stands up to take off her panties, and I fully intend to rid myself of mine at the same time—that is until I watch her thumbs disappear inside at her hips and shimmy them down her legs. Now I'm completely transfixed on the naked woman standing over me.

As she steps out of them, I say, "Don't move."

"What?" she asks softly.

"I just want to look at you for a minute."

I'm staring at her. And she's staring at me. My underwear aren't off, but I'm on full display.
 

I scan her body one last time and when I meet her eyes there's a need in them that I can feel. I shed my underwear and she drops down to her hands and knees over me and when she kisses me I know we're both way beyond ready.
 

"I need to grab a condom if we're gonna do this, Bright Side." She wants to. I can see it all over her face, but I still feel like I need to give her an out.

She takes me in her hand. It's the first time she's touched me there.
 

"Ah shit, Bright Side. Don't ever stop what you're doing."

"Ever?" she asks devilishly.

"Never, ever," I answer.

"I can't get pregnant, Gus. No plumbing, remember?"

"But—" Goddamn, if she's suggesting what I think she's suggesting ...

She interrupts, "Have you ever been with anyone without a condom?"

That's exactly what she's suggesting. I shake my head. "No. Never."

"Neither have I. If you want to use one ... " Her voice trails off and she just stares at me for a few seconds before she continues. "But if you don't ... "

I finish her thought, "I don't." I fucking don't.
 

She's looking at me for the go-ahead.

I nod, begging her with my eyes.

I'm still in her hand when she guides me to her wetness and lowers herself down around me.
 

And I lose my fucking mind when I glide inside. She's tight around me. I've never felt anything like it. No barrier, just skin on warm, wet skin. This is intimacy. I get it now.

I take her hips in my hands and help guide her up and down, back and forth. We move together and I can't take my eyes off her body sitting up on top of mine. Riding me. She's sexy as hell.
 

Holding her close, I roll us over. When I'm settled between her legs, I touch the tip of my tongue between her breasts and slowly run it up, sucking gently at the base of her throat as my hips begin to move. She pulls back when I do and meets every thrust with one of her own. I knew Bright Side was graceful. I've watched her surf. I've watched her dance. I've watched her play her violin. But none of that compares to what I'm watching her doing beneath me right now. What she's doing to me? It's mesmerizing; I can't take my eyes off her.
 

And then I decide I need more of her. I take her knee in my hand and push it back toward her so I can go deeper. She gasps when I do.

"You okay?" I ask.

"Yeah," she sighs contentedly in her lust-filled voice.

Fuck. I pick up the pace because it's building. I feel it in both of us. She's moaning now, tightening around me. Wringing every last wish, and every last craving, and every last ounce of passion out of me; I willingly and hungrily give it all to her.

My lips find hers one more time and she responds like the world's about to end. This kiss is the precursor to a euphoric detonation.
 

And then she completely shatters underneath me and it's the most beautiful thing I've seen in my life. I explode along with her. "I love you," I gasp.

She's panting beneath me and smiling, but suddenly she looks bashful as she bites her bottom lip. And she looks tired.

I kiss the tip of her nose and pull out of her. And then we just stare at each other for a long time. And even when the shyness fades, we don't say anything. I think we're both trying to process what just happened. And me? I'm trying to commit every second of it to memory because I know in my heart this will never happen again. I was just given a gift. And I will treasure it for the rest of my life.
 

My eyes flash open when I hear Franco cough in the bunk beneath me. It brings me back to the shitty present. I hate the shitty present. I want to rewind time. I want to go back. That's why I don't think about that night. It amplifies the fucking disaster that is my current life.