Day Three
I woke up hot as hell, a heavy arm across my chest and strong puffs of air against my neck. I shifted and felt the pleasant twinge in my ass, proof of an excellent night. Tracey was a cuddler. Not something I was accustomed to, but I could certainly get used to it. But I had to go, so I lifted his arm and pushed off the bed for the bathroom. When I came back, Tracey was in the same general position, but his eyes were open and he was staring at me with a slight grin.
“Hey there,” I said, trying for saucy.
He chuckled, and even with what we’d done the night before, still somehow managed to look shy. “Morning,” he whispered back.
I climbed in the bed and threw my leg around his hips, bracing myself on my elbows over him. “Morning.” I kissed him, a soft one that turned scorching quickly, and Tracey rolled on top of me. He was hard, eager, and leaking. No way I’d say no to that.
I tapped on him and he rolled to his back, then crawled down toward his waist. Before I had a chance to start with a morning blowjob, Tracey laid a hand over my hip and stopped me.
“Yeah?”
“I want to taste you too.”
I knew last night had been his first time, and I paused for a moment. “You sure? You don’t have to.”
He responded by maneuvering until I had no choice but to straddle him, and it took a few moments for us to find a comfortable position with our respective height differences. But once we did…good god. I sucked on him, thrilling in the grunts and moans he made around my dick. And for a guy who’d only done this once, he gave new meaning to the word natural. A fucking savant. After last night, I didn’t think I’d be ready to blow this soon, but here I was, at the very precipice, fighting not to fall over.
When was the last time sex had been this all-consuming? The last time one look made me want more. Tracey fancied himself so cautious, but he’d thrown that to the wind last night, and this morning was more of the same. I couldn’t get enough. Didn’t know if I ever would.
I hollowed my cheeks around his length, gripping his ass and squeezing, letting my fingers brush along his crack. He groaned deep, then began pumping his hips. His body tightened, and his thighs locked around my face before he came, and it was everything I could do to take it all in.
Then he redoubled his efforts on me, holding me tighter when I tried to pull away. Any efforts I’d made at “slow” were obliterated, and God help me but I couldn’t stop. In a few seconds I was coming too, thrusting against his face until I came down from my own personal high. We fell apart, panting.
“Wow,” he eventually said, and I risked a glance at him. “So that’s what that’s like.”
“Sixty-nining?” I asked, and he hummed. “Good, bad, or otherwise?”
Tracey’s smile was straight goofy. “Good. So much good.”
I laughed and twisted around until we were face-to-face. I thought about kissing him, but the whole tasting your own come might be too much for a newbie, so I settled for a kiss on his jaw. “I’m glad.”
We lay like that for a few seconds, before Tracey looked at me and asked, “so, what now?”
The idea that had taken root in my head last night sprung back to life. “What are your plans until you start teaching?”
He shrugged, a low breath whistling out of him. “Go back home for a while, I guess. It’s the first time I’ve been truly off during the summer in a while. Always working on papers and dissertations and all that jazz.”
“Come with me.”
Tracey jerked his head, his brows drawn. “What do you mean?”
“To Italy. Come with me. Spend the month with me, accompany me to the shows. Be a fly on the wall in the crowds. Go do touristy shit while I’m photographing the same five models in different outfits. Come with me.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed, my heart tightening.
My imagination went into overdrive. Us, together, strolling the streets of Milan between my shoots. Going out to fancy—and not so fancy—restaurants that didn’t need the word Italian in front of them. Eating pizza by the ton and gorging ourselves on pasta every night. Maybe even taking a quick jaunt to the southern coast, to Sorrento, and finding every meal we could made with those delicious lemons. Consume all the risotto I could stuff my face with. God, the more I let my imaginary reel play, the more I wanted it.
But the expression on Tracey’s face didn’t do much for my confidence. In fact, he was shaking his head like an angry parrot, and a boulder took up residence in my gut. “No. I can’t do that. It’s too fast.”
He climbed off the bed, butt naked, and paced the room. “I mean, why would you ask that?”
“Because,” I said slowly, forcing myself to stay calm when I was anything but, and trying to make sure I got the words right, “you said you wanted something new. Wanted an adventure. Wanted something spontaneous, to live life on your own terms.” I shrugged, like I was ambivalent about his answer. “I figured this might be a good way for you to do that.” And I could have more of him, because one night wasn’t nearly enough.
He stopped and turned to me, hands on his hips. “You twisted what I said to convince yourself I’d say yes.”
I startled at that, and held my hands up. I was pretty sure I hadn’t misrepresented Tracey’s words, but I wasn’t going to fight. “Look, I upset you. Again. I seem to do that a lot, and I’m sorry. It was an idea, a suggestion, and while I’d hoped you’d agree, the answer is no, and that’s fine.”
Tracey’s shoulders didn’t soften, even as his hands fell from his hip. He was on edge, riled up, ready to strike.
Slowly I climbed out the bed on the opposite side and reached for my underwear. Honestly, putting day-old clothes on made me feel a little dirty, especially when a night I’d hoped might be the beginning of more was turning into the same quick fuck I thought I was getting away from. Angry tears pricked my eyes and I pulled my shirt on to hide them. I was spiraling and needed to leave. Stat.
“I don’t want this to end on a bad note,” I forced out. “This weekend has been amazing, and I guess I wanted more of that.” Of you. “I certainly didn’t mean to offend you.”
Now his body loosened, and he tipped his head back toward the ceiling. “You’re right. I’m sorry for snapping. It’s just a lot, and soon. I don’t do well with that.”
“No worries,” I said, too fast for either of us to believe it. I glanced at my phone, sitting on the nightstand. Why was I still there, when I wasn’t wanted? “Look, not to be rude or anything, but I’ve got to get back. I have to pack.”
Tracey stared, his eyes sharp like he could see right through me. “Right. I guess so.”
We finished dressing in awkward silence, a stark change from what had just an hour before been the best morning wake-up call I could remember. Our checkout was equally quiet, as was the ride home.
For the first time since we’d met, a scant two days ago, we didn’t hold hands, we didn’t speak, we didn’t give each other sultry and smoldering looks while trying to maintain a polite façade for passengers. We sat across from each other, even though there were spaces together. And I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, no matter how much I wanted to.
Last night must have really done a number on me. Sitting there with Jeremiah and Collin, André and Marcus. Even Storm and Lizzie, with whatever history they shared simmering just beneath the surface. Seeing that love, that affection, that acceptance, had me thinking I could have it, too.
To know Mom had been cooking pies at these guys’ requests, that Dad considered them his own, had convinced me I’d have their support. And Tracey? He was kind, and smart as hell, and his laugh made me want to do little things to hear it every day. I wanted to give him everything he desired: that adventure, that spontaneity, that chance to do something for himself. But he was right. It was too soon, and maybe our paths had crossed at the wrong time.
We got off at Shaw and climbed the escalators, walking toward the complex doors. My eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to the lamp post we’d made out at just two nights ago, before Dad had not-too-gently reminded us there were people watching. This time, we walked right into the lobby. Dad wasn’t at the concierge table, and it was eerily quiet. I stopped there.
“Look,” I said, shoring up the last of my resolve and turning to Tracey, “thank you for this weekend. It’s been more than I could have dreamed of.”
A smile ghosted across his face before it disappeared, and he looked on the verge of tears. Out of sadness? Out of frustration? I had no clue, and my own emotions were still too close to the surface. I had to get the rest out.
“I hope you take that job at Howard,” I told him, “and I hope you kick it’s ass. You deserve good things, and to live your life, your way. Don’t you ever forget it.”
His laugh was hoarse, but he nodded and looked at the floor. “Yeah. Thanks.”
I forced my mouth up in a grin. “Can I get a hug?”
He smiled, a slow, bittersweet one, and drew me into his arms. I wrapped mine around him, squeezed tight, then let go before I remembered how much I wanted what I couldn’t have. “You take care of yourself,” I whispered.
He bit his lower lip and nodded. “You too.” I had to escape, bypassing the elevators for the stairwell, and sprinted up the six flights, but the ache in my legs didn’t do nearly enough to erase the ache in my heart.