Page 71 of Troublemaker: The Big Picture Edition

“You could say that, yeah.”

She circles her hand around the base of my shaft and lowers herself, slowly, so slowly. For a few seconds or a minute or maybe an hour, I have no idea. But I can’t tear my eyes away from that place where we connect.

“Fuck. Baby.”

“It’s good,” she whispers. “So fucking good.”

She is definitely my kind of girl.

When she’s taken me in, as deep as I can get, we’re both still and silent. Holding our breaths together and then releasing them with a shudder and a moan. I’ll admit, I had wondered what would be left between us, if you took away the banter and the tension. It’s this. This quiet connection that’s as sweet as it is intense. And hot. It’s really fucking hot.

She rolls her hips, slowly at first. Her head is tilted back, her eyes are shut, her lips are parted, and even though I’m inside her, it’s not close enough. I reach for her face. I don’t want to let go of her soft, rounded hip, but I need to touch that beautifulface. “Eres tan hermosa,” I mutter, stroking her jaw with the back of my fingers. Because “you’re so gorgeous” isn’t enough either, and someone else has probably already said it to her.

“Alejandro,” she whispers. And she takes my thumb into her mouth, sucking on it, like that time in her classroom. Only this time there’s no frosting and more hunger and there’s no pulling away from it. She starts grinding against me, rocking back and forth, and makes the slightest movement with her hand. Trying to get me to sit up, and I do.

My tongue replaces my thumb in her mouth, and I maneuver us to the edge of the bed so my feet are on the floor and she can wrap her arms and legs around me, and we can kiss and kiss like this. For seconds or minutes or hours. Some switch has been flipped, and she is on fire now. Still, she alternates fast and hot movements with slow and steady so I don’t come too quick. She’s a goddess, and I wish I had more hands and mouths to savor her with, but I massage and squeeze and drag my fingernails and lick and suck and bite every part of her that I can access.

Her back’s arching and she’s tense and pulsating and undulating and grasping at me, and I will keep thrusting and hang on until her pained moans and cries of pleasure subside. Watching her become more sexually confident and then fall apart like this, in the throes of ecstasy, is the best Christmas present I will ever get.

She combs her fingers through my hair and kisses me hard, breathless, and I know she wants me to come now. She wraps her arms tight around my back, and I do. Long and hard and breathless and just so fucking grateful.

I empty myself until there can’t possibly be anything left except the silent connection again. Sweet and intense, and exhausted. More than anything else and still not enough.

Her heart’s beating furiously against mine and her heavy breaths are an erotic song of satisfaction in my ear, and I willstay here like this. Still inside her, still holding her, until she pulls away from me. It’s not like being struck by lightning. It’s more like drowning and being saved at the same time.

Miss Stiles has claimed every part of me, including my heart, and it’s full again.

ALEX VEGA INSPIRATION JOURNAL – DECEMBER

- Reading everything, but especially Pablo Neruda.

My dad gave me his books to read in Spanish and English when I was fifteen. He said it would help me to learn Spanish, but more than that it would teach me how to be a passionate man of the world—or at least how to write like one.

I’ve always had a thing for his love poems because I wanted to own the feelings they describe and evoke. But it’s like having an animated conversation with someone who speaks a foreign language that you barely understand. You nod and smile and kind of get what they’re saying, but there are so many questions.

And then you meet one woman and suddenly you recognize her in every sentence. She becomes the best translator of all the words that were strung together as an ode to a woman. Or maybe everyone who’s ever written about being in lust and enamored with a beautiful woman has met Emilia Stiles.

“How like you are to the longest kiss,

its fixed shock seems to nourish you….”

-- Pablo Neruda

I wasn’t in search of a translator or a muse, but I’ve found one.

Too bad I can’t write poetry for shit. Too bad it takes so long and so many people and so many millions to get a movie made. But I’m inspired. I see the big picture, and it’s filled with Ryder and work and Emilia and all the kisses.

WHAT I’D GIVE ALEX FOR X-MAS IF I HADN’T TOLD HIM WE SHOULDN’T EXCHANGE X-MAS PRESENTS - EMILIA

1. A stack of brand-new notebooks and a bouquet of pencils.

2. A very tasteful framed poster of Will Ferrell inElf.

3. A basket full of reindeer Rice Krispies treats. The reindeer have candy cane boners.

4. A DVD case of the DisneyPeter Panmovie, but the DVD inside would be the security footage of us making out on the ride at Disneyland.

5. A parent homework assignment. The assignment is to come to Paso Robles and fuck me in my parents’ basement and then sneak Atticus and me out of here and drive us back to LA. And fuck me in the car a few times along the way when my dog isn’t looking.