Authors: L.J. Wilson
Aaron’s actions mirrored Ruby’s thoughts as his hand moved to a tattoo, an Asian symbol that marked her left thigh. It stood for love, and it matched the one branded on Aaron’s right thigh. They’d gotten them together—months before this night. “Maybe I didn’t understand at the time,” he said. “But I get the tats now.”
“Yeah,” he said, reaching for the clasp on the bra. It fell away from her body, and his mouth seemed to move automatically to her breasts. Ruby gasped. Something more primal than planned. His warm hand drifted back to her tattoo, and Ruby hoped that one day they’d each have the full set of three. Their actions didn’t fit the norm. Ruby got it. Who gets matching tattoos before having sex? They did. The exotic symbols stood for love, happiness, and peace. Somewhat skeptical, Aaron had agreed to earn the ink with her, one tattoo at a time.
At the moment, Aaron’s ideas about pacing seemed to have eased up, and he murmured softly, “Damn… well, we can do it more than once…” He skimmed the silky, white panties away, two bodies making one indentation in the sand. After getting the first tattoos, maybe in topsy-turvy celebration, this had halfway happened. Ruby had been wearing a skirt, and Aaron took things a step further. Admittedly, she hadn’t wanted him to stop, and Aaron made her come right there in the front seat of his vintage Dodge Challenger—a car name that Ruby found ironically appropriate. “In case you’re wondering,” he’d said, “there’s plenty more where that came from.” She’d said nothing, panting deep breaths and struggling to determine up from down.
I’m done wondering, Aaron… I want to know… everything.
His mouth made unprecedented progress, Ruby realizing the benefits of nakedness and private stretch of beach. His entire body continued on a downward path, and Ruby had a fine inkling about where he was going. She wasn’t that naïve—she read Cosmo. She’d listened to enough Tandy talk: “
Well, if actual sex is so off limits, what about… you know… I swear it’s hotter than it sounds, Rube, especially if you’re on the receiving end…”
Like the scene in the car, melting into what Aaron offered would have been easy. God knew it was tempting. But Ruby didn’t like easy. She rarely fell to temptation. She pushed up on her elbows. “Wait… Don’t.”
From his thigh-level point of view, Aaron looked up. He looked confused. “Ruby, I promise… You’re gonna love it.”
She smiled, a touch of shyness nudging in between them. “I know. Well, I imagine I will. But next time… okay?”
Ruby wiggled away and rose to her knees; Aaron followed. Their fingers tangled together the way they did when walking down the street. Of course, there was a tad more intimacy in their clothes-less state. Aaron grinned, which was less than full, a story about a tire-iron to his jaw leaving the left side of his face numb. “Let me guess,” he said. “It’s not how you pictured this happening.”
“No. It’s more about me thinking half of this should be about you. I made you wait in ways you never imagined.”
His brow knotted. “Ruby, with any other girl, I wouldn’t have cared. I might have called her a cock tease. I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I thought about other girls.”
It was such an honest-Aaron remark. “So all this waiting, it’s been just fine with you?”
“You know the answer to that. But what you might not realize is that if you wanted this to play out like we were living in the last century that would be fine too.” Aaron leaned and Ruby’s gaze traveled the slope of rigid arm muscle. Discarded silky white lingerie hooked around his fingers. “If you had told me it needed to be a white dress… and a church… and a priest before we got to here, I’d be good with that.”
Oh my, take that, Tandy…
Ruby smiled at the potential promise. Aaron let go of the lingerie. His hands burrowed through her dark hair, her bare body pressing into his. He laid them down on the blanket where instinct and tradition took over. The intimate nature of things unfolded, Ruby answering every movement with a knowledge she did not know she possessed. Her fingers dug into his strong back. Her breath got away as he skillfully repeated the moment in his car, and this time Ruby’s hand cupped hard over his, Aaron whispering, “You are so fucking hot, Ruby… so ready for this…”
Everything plunged into a rolling wave of hot light, Ruby gasping as the feeling seemed to spill over to Aaron. His cock pulsed harder against her. Conversely, his hand eased between her legs. She could feel a pounding in his chest that matched hers. His breaths were intense, different than the ones that went with the five-mile runs that started Aaron’s days. And while they were clearly at the precipice, and sex could very well happen this way—the way it did in lovely romances and sweet-ending movies—Ruby felt Aaron had earned more. That and maybe she wanted a taste of the bad boy she’d heard tell of. “I want to know something,” she whispered. “And I want the truth.”
“Always,” he said.
“Does this, um…
, meet your wildest expectations?” Ruby’s hand was around the aching length of him now, feeling a little sticky wetness on her fingers.
Aaron pushed into the pressure she provided. He stared willfully into her eyes and swallowed hard. He looked a little dizzy. “Position? I don’t… Yeah, this will work fine.”
“Work, yes. Sounds like the diagram model the Church passes out to first-timers ten minutes before the honeymoon… sure. But is
… is it what you want?”
His fingers, tangling in a whorl of hair, found just the right spot again.
Ruby tensed. She forced herself to focus, concentrate, to keep from spiraling to a place to which he knew the way. “You did all this for me,” she said, her gaze leaving Aaron’s to note the thoughtful setting. “I want to do something for you. I want this to be something you’ll remember. So confess. Tell me how this Aaron Clairmont first-timer fantasy goes.”
He half smiled, which really was his whole smile and kissed her. “You mean like did I purposely leave my blindfold and handcuffs at home?”
“Not my style.”
“I didn’t think so. But surely you’ve envisioned something more than what maybe I’d
“Ah,” he said, nodding. “I get it. Something between the Church-approved version and my sex-crazed rep.”
She nodded back.
“No,” he said. “Us, right here…” But Aaron stopped talking because he knew that Ruby knew he was lying. His fingers glided over her bare skin, more aggressively over a taut nipple.
“I want to know. I want the piece of Aaron that you’ve been keeping from me.”
“That piece, huh?”
She nodded again.
“Are you sure?” His abruptness gave the flutter a jolt.
The jolt radiated through her body as he slid a finger inside her. Ruby’s teeth sunk into her bottom lip, enticed by the preview. “I’m sure. I trust you, Aaron… completely. So,” she said, her mouth moving to his earlobe, nipping at it, “how does it go? I don’t know what it is, but I bet something more than a lame missionary position has kept you up nights.”
“Kept me up nights?” His arms slid beneath her, cocooning her safely before coming clean. His breath was warm in her ear. “Baby, you’ve no idea. More like got me through. Know that you make for one hot fantasy. But I’m still not sure…”
“Be sure,” she said, inviting Aaron Clairmont’s imagination into their new personal space. “Take a chance. I took a while to get here, but now that I am…” And Ruby knew this was true. Months ago, sex wouldn’t have been this freeing and trust-filled.
He hesitated, still using the caution that had ruled their world. Ruby put an end to that, applying a tad more pressure. She allowed instinct and Tandy notes to steer, pushing against Aaron’s body until she looked down over him. She kissed him, starting with the divot on his chin and progressing to his broad chest. She kept moving, onto his stomach, finding faint scents of aftershave fading as she went. The rawer, saltier taste of skin dominated, the smell of simple soap—a splash of wicked desire. But when she got to the trail of hair, the one that usually disappeared into his jeans, Aaron grabbed her by the shoulders. “Good guess. But that’s more fantasy B. Not meant for this exact moment. I guess we’re on the same page there.”
“Why not you?” Ruby said, popping back up.
He looked confused, like maybe the answer wasn’t so obvious. Then he recovered. “For the same reasons you passed.”
“So then give me an instruction,” she said, a shiver of curiosity rushing through her. “Tell me what you want.”
“An instruction. Really?” It wasn’t like Ruby to take instruction. “Okay… Before, you were on your knees, facing me.”
“Right,” she said, scrambling back to that position. He rose to meet her, his cock pulsing against her body. At the same time, Ruby felt herself mirroring the desire he physically displayed. But hers was all internal, a hollow of longing. His hands reached around, cupping her ass. He’d done that in the car too, the first time there wasn’t fabric between Aaron and what he wanted.
“In any good fantasy—and there were plenty—I’d get out of bed and climb into a fucking ice-cold shower, where I ended up… Well, never mind, that’s just embarrassing.”
“Okay, but now I’m here… play it out. No stopping, no shower, no more fantasy.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed; his head shook a bit as if someone had stolen his reserved Ruby. “You continue to amaze me, Ruby Vasquez. Know that.”
He didn’t. “But if you’re sure you want this…” He swallowed again though it seemed as if she should be the one displaying nerves. “Turn around,” he said, his deep voice commanding.
Aaron’s hands, a stiff cock, and his fantasy overtook everything. Another shiver rushed Ruby, but it was all expectation and satisfaction. She’d surprised him with more than what he’d politely anticipated.
While she got the gist of where this was going, she loved it when Aaron continued on, his body dominating hers until she felt her knees sink farther into the soft sand. She sensed Aaron’s restraint as he made a steady progression. At first, his hands made the most impact, wrapped around her lower back, his mouth moving over the bump of her spine. She felt him retreat slightly before kisses made contact with places Ruby had not considered, his teeth nipping invitingly into the flesh on a different cheek. Then things started to change. Aaron was closer again, completely in control. His body moved over Ruby’s until her position had become—
. His hands were no longer the most penetrating part, and Ruby felt only a moment of discomfort. His voice was right there, demanding to know, as he entered her, if it was okay. She couldn’t find words, the feeling explosive and poignant.
“Yes,” she managed in a husky whisper. “God, yes…”
And the piece of Aaron she’d demanded showed up on cue. The rhythm grew more forceful, the moment electric. “Ruby,” he said, the thrusting picking up pace. “You’re… It’s beyond any fantasy. This is…” But he didn’t finish the sentence. A sense of touch reassured Ruby. His hands caressed her body, contrasting the forcefulness with which he took her. It went on like this—like music that built and crescendoed—Aaron reaching around to touch that intimate spot of flesh. Ruby’s hand pressed hard over his. Natural sounds rose from that span of private beach, a breathless Aaron coming first, Ruby quickly following.
Sometime later, stars showed up and the earth went back to its regular rotation. As they lay on the blankets, Aaron’s hand trailed along Ruby’s collarbone and the delicate angle of her jaw. He kissed her and Ruby wanted to say,
“To hell with white dresses and marriage.”
It was Aaron who seemed to recover reality, suggesting something else. “Damn, Ruby. Tell me we haven’t earned happiness in permanent ink?”
So months later, it was something more than the world spinning off its axis or turning inside out. It was the opposite of orgasmic. It was utter devastation, the truth hitting Ruby like a hellish branding iron. This would be her forever tattoo, her last vivid image of Aaron as she watched his body slam, face first, into the hood of his beloved Dodge Challenger. It took four officers from the Nickel Springs police force to get him into that position. Damn, it had only taken some smooth courting for Aaron to get Ruby into the position he’d wanted. Watching, a grimace that sounded like a dying animal erupted from her throat. You could hear the dent being made as they repeatedly smashed Aaron’s hand into the hood.
Ruby stepped forward, but Dante held her back. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real. And yet whirling lights, big-lunged orders about not moving, an officer aggressively kicking Aaron’s legs apart as they searched for other weapons assured her that it was. Reporters were already on the scene, recording the heinous reality. From the trunk of Aaron’s car, an officer held up two tightly packaged, clear-plastic bags of white powder. They kept smashing his hand hard, and Ruby thought she heard the bones crumble. She wondered if it hurt as much as everything crumbling inside her. Finally, a gun dislodged, skidding forward. It bounced across the car hood and onto the lawn. It was the gun Aaron Clairmont had brought there. The gun he’d fired—mercifully missing—determined to carry out the hit on Dante Vasquez.