Page 48 of When There Was You
“Also yes…as long as you remain naked.”
A warmth spreads at his words.He wants me.And being wanted has always fueled and filled me. I’m acutely aware I can’t go there. I’m not looking for love anymore. Either is my battered heart. This is why a one-night stand works. The unspoken rules are clear: this is all it is and ever will be.
Reluctantly, I pry myself from his incredible body, scoot off the mattress, and snag the hotel menu. Standing near the edge of the bed, I clear my throat and read our choices.
“Appetizers include…” I study the list.
“I already had an appetizer, and nothing’s topping that.” Butch props himself on one elbow with the sheet barely covering his…main course…and looking every bit thePlaygirlcenterfold.
I grin, scanning the array of options. “How about a ‘King-Size Hamburger’ or ‘Two Grilled Frankfurters with Sweet Relish’? We can score ‘Cheese Gold Fish’ for a buck. This verbiage cracks me up…it’s so old fashioned. Get this: We can order ‘stuffed celery with creamed Roquefort cheese’! And, oh my god, ‘Iced Vichyssoise.’ How very?—”
“I like you narrating the menu, Sundance. It’s getting me hard.”
My eyes shoot right to the burgeoning sheet, and I bite my lip. “Mmm…perhaps we don’t need canapés after all.” Tossing the menu into the air, I climb Mr. Lumberjack like, ahem, a tree.
We’ve done justabout everything…given each other head (that sixty-nine was especially memorable), screwed in a variety of positions and places in this hotel suite, taken a shower together, shared multiple orgasms. I’ve only vetoed one request—the one where his fingers lightly caressed my back entrance and he asked,Is this up for grabs?in his sexy voice. I shook my head, trying to hide my surprise. His only response was a murmured,Shame.
We finally ordered room service (a “King-Size Cheeseburger” for him and BLT for me). I fork another bite of “Cheese Cake” into his mouth. Watching him lick the creamy dessert from his lower lip—chest bare, sheet covering him from the waist down—is a vision likely burned into my memory forever.
Ditching the plate, I seek his lips. Again. We both groan, inhaling each other and the sweetness from the cake, as our tongues commingle.
“You are insatiable,” he murmurs.
He’s right. I’m like a depraved, sex-starved machine. “For you.”
And we go another round.
After midnight,Butch leaves me—sated, exhausted, and big-dick sore—with one last lingering kiss.
“See you, gorgeous,” he whispers, tenderly stroking my hair.
I gaze into those glorious emerald eyes one final time. “Back atcha, handsome.”
He hesitates, as if wanting to say more. It’s the same for me…but what do you say after a night like that?Thanks for a good time? Have a nice life? Wanna get married and do this forever?
Instead, he presses a tender kiss to my forehead and mutters something I can’t discern on his way out.
The hotel door snicks closed behind him, leaving me alone in this bed we fully utilized. One where our fused musky scent deliciously lingers.
I sense we both carry shards of regret. We’re good together. Not just the sex, either. We were comfortable in a way strangers typically aren’t. And when we talked, even sharing a few confessions, it seemed natural. Maybe the intense sex also says something about us.So. Good.Butch was attentive, experienced, and focused on my pleasure. It rocked my world in the best, toe-curling way.
But let’s be realistic. I don’t even know his full name, age, or zip code—and I certainly never offered up ofmydetails. We’re just Butch and Sundance, two outlaws who carved out a perfect night of debauchery like it was our last night alive.
The likelihood of ever seeing him again? One in a million.
Twenty-Eight
On the flight home, I plug in the complimentary headphones and find an easy-listening music channel. Staring out the small oval window next to my seat, I replay my trip, from the interview to all things Butch. The potent combination of the two forces me to acknowledge blunt reality.
I need to move on…not juston, but forward.
And this job is my ticket. Moving across the country gives me distance, a fresh perspective, and a clean slate. I’ll no longer be haunted by memories forty miles down the peninsula. Rather, I’ll be stimulated by a new environment to explore, inspired to tell stories of the people and places I find.
There’s an undeniable spark and genuine excitement pumping through my system…and I’ve missed this innate inner joy. I’m disappointed it’s taken so long to admit I’ve been going through the motions.
Butch also awakened something dormant. My desires. My sexuality. My body and its connection when intimate with another. It shocked the hell out of me. I didn’t go looking for a hookup, it just happened…but damn if it didn’t switch the light back on. I’m not ready to risk getting my heart broken any time soon. I may never be. But I’m willing to own that I’m not dead yet, either, and if it’s not hurting me or anyone else, I’m staying open to…opportunities. I pray there are more guys like Butch out there.
I shiver in remembrance of his greedy hands, spectacular mouth, and ginormous dick. Those gorgeous eyes. His dominating height. His sultry smell. Butch wasallman.Lumberjack Man.
