Somewhere Along The Line

12. James

Piper is on top of me, straddling my legs. Her weight provides the pressure I desperately need on my dick, which is acting more eager than I’d like. She kisses me sweetly like she’s still lingering in a post-orgasm haze and doesn’t want to see clearly just yet.

“God, you are so beautiful like this,” I murmur, enjoying everything about this soft and satisfied woman who is mine, at least for tonight.

“Half-naked on your lap?” She giggles, nicking at my collarbone before kissing the spot with a tender brush of her lips.

“Absolutely my favorite version of you to date. Ten out of ten, no notes.” Even in this moment, this potentially awkward moment, we default to being playful.

I take Piper’s chin in my hand and guide her lips to mine, pressing a deep kiss to her mouth. Sinking back into the leather, her body sinks into me. The kiss starts slowly, like she’s searching for something. It’s not tentative, but it’s also not rushed.

She takes my bottom lip between hers as her hands roam freely, first grazing my chest, then weaving through my hair, then wrapping around my neck and gently playing with my ear. It’s like she’s getting to know these pieces of me, and she wants to honor each one.

I tease her lips with my tongue and she opens for me, our tongues finding one another as we deepen the kiss. Tilting her head, I find an angle that works to increase her urgency. Her hips roll across my lap, making me groan.

“What do you want, P?” I pull away for a second, meeting her eyes and enjoying the small pout she puts on at the loss of my lips.

“What do you mean, what do I want ?” She presses her mouth to the end of my eyebrow, again to the apple of my cheek. “I should be asking what you want. You’ve done plenty already.”

Piper smirks with appreciation like the fresh memory of her orgasm is a secret she can’t contain. That naughty little grin brands my heart, claiming it for her.

I’m in so much fucking trouble.

“Let me be clear, what happened a few minutes ago—making you come on my fingers while you gasped my name—that was for me . This next round is for you.”

She grinds into me as she restarts our kiss, her naked chest grazing my pecs.

“Okay,” she replies, looking the tiniest bit smug. “I want you to lose the pants.” Piper reaches down between us, and my dick jumps at the contact. She settles back on her heels as she undoes my belt, slides out the button, and pulls down the zipper.

“Off, please,” she says.

She seems to forget that she’s sitting on me, thereby keeping my pants pinned to my legs. I grab her by the waist and toss her to my left, careful that she lands on a cushion, but not so careful that she thinks I can only be gentle with her.

I strip off my pants, dropping them in the pile with our shirts and her bra. My boxer briefs are still on, and she’s not thrilled.

“Yeah, that’s not what I want,” she says, eyeing my frame, her gaze trained on my lower half. I like this Piper—self-assured and demanding. I peel off my briefs, watching her expression change as reaches for me and pulls me to the couch to sit, standing to take my place.

“It’s only fair,” she shrugs as she drops her skirt, her lace panties a treat before she pulls her legs out of them one at a time. Standing naked in front of me, Piper is a masterpiece.

The swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, her wild hair framing the face that is quickly becoming my favorite—it sucks the breath out of my lungs.

She makes her way to the couch and lays down on her back, draping her legs over my lap as I take her in up close.

I want to memorize this moment, to capture the landscape of her body with my mind and then with my mouth: the way her chest dips under her collarbone, the tiny birthmark that lives on her lower belly, the scar on the back of her arm.

“I want you to kiss me,” she says, and it’s as much an ask as a direction.

I pick up her right leg, smooth and soft and warm, running my fingers across the skin of her ankle before kissing behind the bone. I press my lips against her shin and then again, inching myself closer to her knee. I spread my thumbs behind the back of it, kneading the muscle at the top of her calf as I press my teeth to her kneecap gently before closing my mouth around it.

She releases a whispered moan at the contact.

Shifting myself to kneeling, I perch her legs on either side of my hips as I continue my ascent up her body. Hovering over her, I mark the curve of her waist, the jut of her ribs, and the soft warmth of her stomach with my lips. She sucks in a fast breath as I approach her breasts, nudging between them with my nose as I drag a hand between her legs, my other hand propping me up as I inch forward.

I’ve imagined this scenario since I first saw Piper and I’ve wondered what it would be like to have her writhing under me and desperate for my touch—how she’d taste and how her skin would feel, the sounds she’d make, the look on her face when I’d make her come.

It was all wrong. The image in my mind was an arts and crafts project; being with her tonight is Michaelangelo sculpting the David. It’s infinitely better, more evocative, so awe-inducing there aren’t words to describe it. Just the feeling deep down that you’re a witness to something profound.

I take her nipple in my mouth, a groan vibrating from my lungs when she arches into me, her hand raking through my hair. I swirl the tip of her breast with my tongue, tugging occasionally with my teeth, as my thumb mirrors the motion on the sensitive spot between her legs.

“Holy shit, James.” Piper whimpers my name into my skin, her breath becoming erratic as I slide two fingers inside her, moving my mouth to her other breast. I drag her wetness back and forth, creating friction where she needs it before dipping back inside in rhythm.

She clenches around me, digging her nails into my back, scraping up to my shoulders and down again as I tease her nipple with my mouth. She’s leaving marks for me to remember her by tomorrow.

As though I could forget.

“I need to feel you,” she begs, and I move my mouth to hers, slipping into a wet kiss as I position myself above her, my tip trailing down the front of her to where we both want it.

“I’m not going to last,” I warn. The sight of her, the feel of her, has been nearly enough already.

“I don’t care. I want you closer. Do you have a condom?”

“Absolutely.”

If only one would materialize beneath the cushions like spare change you find the moment you need it.

Rolling off Piper, my hand lingers until I can no longer reach her on my path to the kitchen. I yank open a drawer and grab the foil packet, tearing it open with my teeth as I walk back to her, her chocolate eyes watching me intently as I stop, slip it on, and roll the latex up my shaft.

“Thank you,” she whispers, “for not making that a big deal.”

I can’t stand that the request may have been difficult for her to make. “I meant what I said. You will never be unsafe with me.”

I climb back on top of her, and she melts into the leather of the couch beneath me. I take her mouth in mine, sweeping my tongue through the space and feeling her moan when my tip finds her opening.

“Is this what you want?” I ask, nuzzling my lips against the side of her neck as she palms my ass.

“Yes,” she whispers, and I push in slowly, her hands gripping me as she inhales and holds her breath.

“Breathe, Piper.” I smile into her skin as this refrain I’ve said so often comes to life in a new context. She adjusts beneath me, changing her angle to let me in fully.

“It’s so good,” she chokes out, and now I’m the one who can’t breathe, the sounds of her pleasure short-circuiting my brain as I fill her.

“So good,” I echo. It would take fifty thousand words to describe how incredible she feels, a tome dedicated to Piper and the experience of being inside her. I can only manage two, so I say them again. “ So good. ”

We settle into a rhythm, our mouths in sync with our hips as we push and pull. I could die doing this , I think to myself. Maybe it’s because this level of pleasure could kill me, or that I would be happy to do nothing else for the rest of my life.

It’s both.

“What do you need?” My words come out as a whisper, goosebumps erupting down the side of Piper’s neck where my mouth is lingering.

“Can you go faster?”

I’m there in a heartbeat, increasing the pace until her breath catches, her fingers clench against my skin, and I keep it there, steady.

My control is slipping, and I tell her as much. She grips my neck with one hand and slides her other between us, adding pressure where she wants it. We’re breathing in unison, our hips anchored together as we push each other higher.

“Please, please, James, I’m so close.” She comes undone a moment later, her body pulsing around me as she shudders beneath my chest. I let myself go as she starts coming down, jerking through a last thrust until I’m empty inside her.

I collapse onto her, cradling my hand behind her head as we lay there together, my heart flying against my ribs and hers doing the same.

“That was…,” Piper says hoarsely, turning her head to look at me as she tangles her fingers in my hair, a smile curling her lips, “ Exactly what I wanted.”

“Happy to oblige.” I chuckle before noting the opportunity to meet her vulnerability with my own. It’s not a skill I have much experience with. Piper makes me want to try.

“Giving you what you want will always be what I want,” I reply.

My fingers tuck a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear before giving her another slow, lingering kiss. She greets it with a soft giggle.

“Well, Mr. Newhouse, I’ve gotta believe an examination won’t go down like this in court,” Piper jokes, burying her face in my neck.

“What’s that about going down? Because, believe me, I’m up for another round…” I laugh and she bites at my collarbone lightly before digging her nose into the divot where it meets my shoulder. Piper’s head fits there like the spot was made for her.

“I’m just saying, I’m not sure I'm any more prepared for a hearing than I was before. Which is not to say that this night was a bust...”

The cackle that splits her open tells me she’s noted the innuendo. My own chuckle joins hers and soon we’re both laughing, trying to catch our breath like we did the day of the smoke bomb and only making it worse.

It’s full circle, holding her now and laughing this way, just like I held her that day and we laughed just like this, except now everything is different.

Because this time I know her, and if I’m willing to be honest, I think I could love her if I let myself. And while I don’t know for sure, I’m starting to believe that she could love me too.

After spending a minute cleaning up—a towel for her and a bathroom visit for us both—I roll onto my side and pull her into my arms, wanting her as close as she can possibly be and thankful the width of the sofa leaves her no other option.

We become a tangle of arms and legs as we talk and then doze, adjusting occasionally due to tangled limbs or trapped shoulders. The thought I failed to catch once before runs across my mind, but this time instead of fear, it prompts hope.

Piper fits here.

Light pours into the room, and I’m aware of two things upon waking. One, I can barely rotate my neck after sleeping on this couch, and two, Piper is still here, curled up between my arms and legs, the two of us sharing a space smaller than a twin bed and touching absolutely everywhere.

I also realize I’m hard, which isn’t surprising and shouldn’t be embarrassing after last night… but it still feels awkward given the zero centimeters of space between us.

I extricate myself from her—a herculean effort both physically and emotionally—and pull on my pants before heading to the kitchen for a drink. Glancing back to the living room, Piper looks so small and so peaceful, like everything in the world is exactly right.

Maybe it is.

Scanning the counter, I find my phone, which was happily abandoned to die overnight. It’s so bright, too bright as it powers up; 8:17 a.m. flashes on the home screen before I can even swipe in. I blink and then blink again. No, that can’t be right. The microwave reads 8:18.

Whatever bubble of oxytocin I’d been living in breaks open.

“Shit! Ahhh. Shit, okay. Okay.” I rush over to Piper, pushing gently on her shoulder in an attempt to wake her up before I move on to saying her name and then shouting it. She comes alive with a jolt, and it’s clear that she has no idea where she is or what’s happening.

“P, hey, it’s me. You’ve gotta get up. We overslept. I’m so sorry. It’s 8:20.”

Her eyes grow wide and she sits straight up before diving to grab her clothes and throwing them on.

“No, no, no… it’s not… it can’t be, right?” She stares at me wildly as she hauls her skirt up to her waist, desperate for me to change the answer to the question, to tell her what she knows isn’t true.

“It is. I’m so sorry. What can I do? Can I bring you to your house to change? Drive you to work? What do you need?”

I liked that question a hell of a lot more last night.

“Shit, is it Tuesday? I think it’s Tuesday. Damn it .” Piper starts palming at her clothes, at the couch, lifting the cushions to look for her phone. “I have a donor meeting on Tuesday at 8:30. It’s a referral from the man who committed to the scholarship fund. I should’ve been at the office ten minutes ago.”

She’s a tornado as she moves, hopping on one foot as she puts on a shoe, wrapping her hair up in a bun with the tie she keeps on her wrist, locating her things and throwing them in her bag before sprinting for the door.

“Please, let me drop you off.” I hobble after Piper, ignoring the guilt seeping into my chest and my rational desire to grab shoes before leaving. “I can get there quickly; I’ll speed if I have to.”

I grab my keys from the hook and we race to the car, throwing open the doors and peeling out before we even pull them closed.

Apology after apology spills out of my mouth. I didn’t know Piper had a meeting, much less that she’d be spending the night, but it doesn’t matter. All I can think about is how important this job is to her and that I’m the reason she’s not at her best this morning. The knowledge twists painfully in my chest.

We arrive at her building at 8:32, Piper rushing inside with an “I’ll text you” and a frantic wave as she disappears behind the door.

My life, and whatever is growing between Piper and me, went from perfectly right to horribly wrong in the span of fifteen minutes. Reality crashes down like thunder, splitting apart whatever dream state made me believe, even for a night, that I wouldn’t ruin her.

I head back to my place, dying to take a shower to try and rinse away the unease that’s sitting like a brick in my stomach. For the first time since we started this ruse, I don’t know when I’ll see Piper again outside of our commute.

While I have to drop off the boxes for the event on Saturday, she could send out an intern to greet me.

“Just wait for her to text,” I tell myself out loud as I put the car in park in front of my house. Hesitant to go inside and see the evidence of the best night and the worst morning, I sit for too long and stare aimlessly. “Wait for her to text.”