Soundtrack: I'm not supposed to be this nervous, I should play my hand all cool and calm... I can't breathe. I'm losing control of my heart. - Daniel Bedingfield
Kris rolled on top of her, circling his arms all the way around her body, and put his chin on her chest. He looked up at her and sighed. Yesterday morning he would never have imagined this could happen. He wasn’t sure he believed it now. Lying with her, so intimately, it felt like they’d known each other forever. But in fact, he knew very little of her.
“Tell me something about you,” he said. She touched his hair. He loved it when she touched his hair.
“My name isn’t Ginger. Not really.”
Kris closed his eyes. I didn’t even know her name. How can I feel this way about someone I don’t even know? She raised her head, looking down her body where his face was resting.
“I’m Samantha. Nice to meet you.” She smiled. “There was another Samantha, same year as me since pre-school. And since both of my brothers went by Harris, that wouldn’t work. So the red hair did me in. No one ever calls me Samantha.”
“Samantha Harris,” Kris said, trying it out.
Say it again, she urged him. Say it every day.
“It sounds cute with your accent,” she said, sliding down underneath him until their faces were level. Then she kissed him. Instantly Kris’ mind reeled. It was like a life-flashing-before-your-eyes montage, instead it was all Ginger and it was all sex. Ginger against the wall, holding her in the lake, her wearing his t-shirt. Kris laughed through the kiss.
“I almost completed an entire thought about you that wasn’t sexual. So close!”
She rolled her eyes. “Boring!”
Kris kissed his way down Ginger’s body. For a second while they were talking, he’d even forgotten she was naked. It was a wonderful thing to remember. He slowly trailed his lips over her shoulders, breasts and chest. They still had that gentle, delicate feeling from the day and he worked at that pace. She sighed. Ginger spread her legs to allow Kris’ chest to rest on the bed between them while he kissed her stomach. The heat from his bare skin was seeping into her, making her more drowsy. She wondered if he could kiss her to sleep, when princes were forever kissing their women awake. As he moved lower, passing a warm breath over her inner thigh, she thought better of it. She’d be awake soon enough.
Kris pressed a kiss to her leg, then another one higher up. He brushed a finger along her bikini line, making her flinch. Hmmm, ticklish, he made a mental note. Before he could experiment more, he gave in to his own desire. He’d said it at the lake and been thinking of it since. He wanted to taste her. As he ran a fingertip around her opening, her body went taut. With agonizing slowness, she relaxed under his repeated touch. It took concentration to release tension, and he would wait until she got there. He breathed on her again, softly. Then he placed his tongue to her skin.
Ginger gasped slightly. His tongue was soft but slightly abrasive, like a very naughty kitten. He took his time, lots of time. He moved so slowly Ginger could barely tell he was moving at all. When he finally pressed his tongue into her, Ginger’s back arched itself in a desperate attempt to be closer to his mouth.
Torture, pure and simple. He liked it. She’d been torturing him all day – that bathing suit, those smiles, the not-so-subtle comments whispered in his ear. She had earned this treatment and he would make sure she paid for it in spades. Besides, she tasted like honey and sunshine. Planting a kiss, Kris moved one finger inside her. Her body squeezed appreciatively. With a thought to their underwater romp, Kris maneuvered his finger the way she’d liked it before. Then he tried something else. And another thing. She seemed to like them all. Just to make sure, he tested each one again.
She had her hands in his hair. It was impossibly soft and thick. As she fingered through it, the lower half of her body was blocking out her brain. Kris had two fingers inside her now, and she was fighting the urge to start pleading with him to take her now. That would only earn her more time on this ride. All she could do was give in, press her head back and breathe deep.
That breath almost escaped her when Kris flicked his tongue over her clit. Two fingers were still working their magic, ever so gently coaxing the core of her body into a pile of jello. His mouth was like an exclamation point at the end of the scream she knew was building in her body. She looked down and pulled his hair to the side. His eyes met hers and smiled. She quivered.
Kris was really, really hard. Painfully hard. Still, there was no end in sight. She’d come twice, at least, before he allowed himself any relief at all. He’d been planning this all day. Closing his mouth over her clit, he stole a trick out of Ginger’s playbook. He started humming.
Woaholyfuck. Her body twanged like the string of a perfectly tuned guitar. That was definitely the right note. Hips lifted up of their own accord. She smiled, wondering if he was singing the words in French in his head. He was.
Between measures of the song, Kris extracted his fingers and painted them over the outside of her pussy. Heat poured off her body. A lot of energy was building, but he’d taken her no where close to orgasm yet. She was going to have to beg for that. He wanted to know she’d been thinking about him the way he’d been thinking about her. That every move he made felt like a kick to her gut. Every time he touched his skin, cracked a smile, laughed – he wanted her to think of him, inside her, pulling the air from her lungs and the thoughts from her head. Because that’s how she made him feel. He pushed his fingers back inside her.
I’m going to pass out, she thought seriously. All day, she’d watched the roll of his shoulders and the bronze of his skin and dreamed that merely a few hours later he would be doing exactly what he was doing now. In her mind, she had stamina and will-power that would make Max jealous. In real life, under Kris’ touch and tongue, she was starting to twitch like a cat in heat.
She whimpered out loud and felt, rather than heard, Kris laugh. He looked up at her. She groaned and tossed her head back. “Please Kris.”
“What was that?” The sudden disappearance of his mouth from her skin made her stomach drop in disappointment.
“Please, Kris. Please make me come,” she panted.
Still his fingers moved artfully. He was sliding them all the way in, matching the way he planned to use his cock later. Well, one of the ways. “You’re going to have to ask me nicer than that. I have been thinking about this all day.”
“Me too,” she said. “All day I’ve been thinking about you inside me. I…” she swallowed a breath as he increased the speed and pressure of his fingers.
“You…” he said directly onto her pussy, breathing out.
She jerked her hips against him, trying to do for herself what he refused to do for her. “I want you, Kris. I am begging you.”
“So beg me.” He returned his tongue to her clit and claimed another whimper from her body.
“I want… I want you to….” Please, please I don’t want to laugh and ruin this. I want to tell you how much I want you.
“Dirty,” he said. “Beg me.” Where is this coming from? This girl makes me do crazy things.
Ginger could have rolled off the bed, he pressed into her so hard. She didn’t know how he could hear, the blood in her head sounded like a hailstorm. Her voice was barely more than a whisper for fear of becoming a scream.
“I want you inside me. That juicy cock, you know how to use it. Slide it into me, Kris, fill me up. Ride me. I want to scream your name.” If she’d had any rational thoughts, she would have felt ridiculous saying these things out loud. But she meant them. “You know how tight I am. Feel how wet I am for you. I know you want me Kris.”
Kris did indeed. With a few shifts of his hips he could have finished himself off then, pressed into the mattress as he was. But the more she talked, the more he knew that nothing would satisfy him unless it came from her body. i, he knew.
Fingers and mouth began to move in harmony. Ginger squirmed gratefully. Moving with full, deliberate strokes, Kris quickly had her trembling beneath him. Her hands twisted in the sheets. One of her heels hooked behind his ass, trying to pull him into her. Short, hard licks met deep, long strokes of his hand. He played her like a piano, right to her highest note.
“Kris, Kris,” she sobbed breathlessly.
Finally, when he himself was on the verge of coming, he rolled into her clit with full, sweeping strokes. Her body threw a vice grip onto his hand. Her stomach clenched, thighs went tight. Forcing herself down onto him, Ginger worked her hips. Kris curled his fingers forward slightly, finding the sweet spot he’d hit earlier.
It only took one time. Her body spasmed, arching her back and throwing her full weight to the mattress. Kris felt her sweet, dense milk pour over his tongue. She twitched as he lapped it up. It was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced – he had wrecked her body, made it do exactly what he wanted. He had owned her, this girl he’d been powerless against for two days.
Kris was on his knees over her. He turned Ginger’s chin toward him and she smiled.
“Not over yet?”
“You didn’t scream,” he smiled and he slid his cock into the most perfect woman on earth.
He nearly blacked out on contact. She gave him a rough squeeze for good measure. Shouldn’t have teased her, he almost laughed. Should have known she could still kick my ass.
“Beg me, Kris. Tell me exactly what it feels like for you and I might just let you finish.”
“Hot. Wet. Tight,” he grunted.
“Caveman,” she laughed, wrapping her legs around his back.
He loosed a long, growly sentence in French.
“That sounded more like it,” she cooed, pressing her fingernails into his backside.
Kris was moving hard, trying to think of what to tell her without breaking concentration about his orgasm. The second he started talking he would lose it. And then he’d never get to say anything. Ginger moved her hips harder. She brought her body down his shaft, sliding under him as he reached up into her. Her breasts bounced every time he pounded into her.
Kris’ ears started to ring. Ginger whipped her hips from side to side, rotating his cock. Every centimeter of his skin got a kiss from her pussy as she tossed him around inside her. She added a squeeze, keeping him guessing. She pulled him in and pushed him out, then begged him to come back.
Ginger was holding her breath. Kris was thrusting her in half, rocking the bed against the wall with a telltale banging sound that she knew he couldn’t even hear. He was fighting it hard, and now she was too. It is impossible to come again so soon, so hard. This cannot be healthy. But one look at his shoulders, muscles straining against his skin and Ginger was climbing that ladder right behind him. She kissed him fiercely. She had an idea.
“Kris, come for me,” she whispered. His eyes flashed, like he would protest. Then he blinked, and his eyes rolled. He slammed into her and held, stiff as a board, his throbbing penis bursting inside her. Without even moving, she felt him go three times. He fell next to her panting.
“You didn’t get to….” His English was failing along with his brain.
“Not done yet,” she said, rolling onto her stomach alongside him. “Touch my back.”
Ginger put a hand under her body, and began to mimic the motions Kris had traced across her clit earlier. She could take care of herself in a heartbeat, but the feeling of Kris tracing his hand over her bare back was exquisite. He caressed her shoulders, down her spine, along her ribs. She pressed and rolled, adding her hips into the mix. Kris’s fingers arched over the span of her hips and rise of her ass. The wetness on her thighs bore his fingerprints.
She hitched a breath as Kris ran a single finger into the cleft between her legs. The edge came quickly as he traced around her opening. When he dipped his finger into her, she came. A strangled cry drowned in the pillow below her face. Her hips rose and rolled, pumping sensation up into her body. Kris milked her pussy, draining the last of her energy. She dropped to the bed, then he followed suit.
“What did you say in French?” she could barely find her voice.
He smiled. “That you are the sweetest peach, and you taste as good as you look.”
“Liar. But I like it,” she rolled into him and quickly fell asleep.
That I want to own you and marry you and fuck you within an inch of your life everyday until the end of time, Kris knew he couldn't say.
When morning came, Kris woke first. The bed looked like a war zone. They were curled into the corner where they’d fallen into a devastated sleep the night before. There was no denying that every molecule in his body enjoyed waking up wrapped around her. Even where their skin was stuck together – the back of her thighs to the front of his – Kris relished in the contact. His cock felt beaten and bruised. It had been a while since he’d had a workout like that.
Anything could happen. She might still just be in this for the sex. He had two days left that required careful orchestration, but he didn’t know where to start. He’d be in Montreal for the summer – maybe she could visit him. He could come back to Jordan’s. Hell, he didn’t actually have to leave Jordan’s at all. A few training adjustments and he could spend the next two months getting cozy and getting off in equally spectacular measure. But what does she want? Kris resolved to ask Jordan for advice. After all, it was his house they’d be moving into.
Ginger woke, but didn’t move. She could tell from Kris’ breathing that he was awake. Not wanting this to end, she lay still and closed her eyes again. I could ask Jordan. I should. I will ask Jordan. Ugh, he’s going to make me pay. She needed to know what was going on outside of this week of Kris’ life. Were there other women, other trips, other places? Might there be a place for her? Jordan would eventually come around and spill the beans. That boy loved to gossip almost as much as he loved to be gossiped about.
“Morning Sam,” Kris whispered. Her breathing had given her away too.
“Bon matin, beau mec,” she said in perfect French. Kris let go as he laughed. If that was the extent of her French it was going to be a long road for them.
“Did you learn that at school?”
She rolled to face him. “Oh yeah, they teach it to the freshmen. ‘Say this to a cute guy then get him to teach you the rest of French.’” She put a finger to Kris’ lips. “Like French kissing.”
Diligently, Kris kissed her. “What else would you like me to teach you?”
“Whatever you said last night,” she teased.
He blushed a little. She really did know he’d lied. But he couldn’t tell her anything till he talked to Jordan. Instead, he asked his morning question again. “Do you have to go today?”
She shook her head no. Relief eased the crease in his brow.
“Stay with me?” he asked.
She nodded. Then she smiled. “I think I need a break from the sex though. I cannot fit that thing inside me again for a few hours.”
They were up first. Ginger went into the kitchen and started banging around breakfast supplies. Kris helped a little, but mostly he watched her move through like she owned the place. Bread, milk, eggs, bowls, whisks…
“Did some guy teach you French toast?” he asked.
“Nope,” she handed him the bowl. “There are some things that I can teach you.”
He followed her instructions and beat the bread dip. She whipped up breakfast and dropped two plates onto the table with syrup and juice. Kris sat, and then she sat next to him. Not across. Add it to the list, Kris thought. Every day.
Ginger touched her leg against his. "You make that French toast look really sexy,” she said.
Bodies rose from the dead at the smell of baking. She commanded the kitchen and fed the troops. Sidney looked at the French toast like he’d never seen food before, then made at face at Kris.
“I really hate you,” he said.
Jordan came in last, having slept like a rock in his big empty bed. He swatted Ginger’s ass and told her to hurry up and feed him, woman! “After all, I think you owe me a new headboard. You guys should make a movie,” he said with his mouth full.
She feigned indignity. “There was no screaming last night.”
“Uh, there was some,” Kris said without looking up from the newspaper.
She grabbed it and smacked him on the head. “Jordan calling for Sidney in his sleep does not count.”
Sidney made a What did I do? face, then turned to Jordan. “My name goes above the movie title. Not yours.”
Max borrowed Jordan’s car to return the Lake House girls to their rental. Apparently they had something to do that even Max’s ministrations could not keep them from. They promised to be back after dinner. Ginger had no doubt.
“Losing your touch, Max?”
He laughed. “Let me touch you and you’ll find out.”
Kris left them sparring in the kitchen and went into the yard. Jordan was emptying out the grill so he could refill the charcoal. It seemed another vacation day by the pool was in order. Kris grabbed a scraper and volunteered.
“So ask me,” Jordan prompted, soot all over his hands.
“What should I do?”
Jordan wiped his fingers on a towel. “Do you like her?” Kris nodded. “I mean, really like her? Not just up all night screwing her brains out?” He laughed. “Thanks for that, by the way. If you were anyone else, I’d punch your face in. Making her scream your name in my house… asshole.”
“What if that’s all she wants? What if she’s not interested in me?” Kris asked.
“Dude, Ginger could have screwed half of Ontario by now if she wanted. She’s not in it for the sex. Although she does seem to enjoy it. Loudly.” He dropped the grill lid closed. “Sid made a move before you got here and she wasn’t interested. If it was just the sex, why not him?”
Kris grimaced. Sidney would still make a move. Probably was making one now. But she had turned him down multiple times. He smiled.
“Could I stay here for the summer?” he smacked Jordan with the scraper.
“You guys have to get your own porn palace. But yes, I give you permission to move to Thunder Bay. Signed, the Mayor.”
Jordan went inside to change. He passed the kitchen and Ginger followed him upstairs. She trailed right into his bedroom and closed the door.
“Want to see if I can make you scream louder?” Jordan asked, taking his shirt off. She made a face. “Alright, loser. Ask me.”
Ginger raised her eyebrows. “Ask you what?”
“If Kris likes you or if he just wants to bang your headboard off the wall for a few more days. Unless that’s NOT why you came in here,” he was opening his shorts.
She turned to face the wall. “Does he have a girlfriend?”
“What?! No. Jesus, Ginger. I wouldn’t let some guy climb all over you if he was two-timing someone else. What kind of friend do you think I am?”
She put her hands up in defense. “I don’t know! Bro’s before ho’s and all that. Come on, you players are players. I am not an idiot.”
He spun her around, his swim trunks now on. He was very tall, towering over her with his hands on her shoulders and speaking right into her face. “Ginger. You are an idiot if you think I’d let someone hurt you. Let them get anywhere near you if they weren’t Kris. And probably only Kris. So no, he does not have a girlfriend. And he’s not just in it for the sex.”
“Every idiot in Montreal is visiting me this week. You both like each other, it’s so obvious. Plus, he just asked me the same thing.”
Ginger’s heart did a little happy dance.
“And he asked if he could move in here for the summer. I said no. But I might change my mind.” Jordan folder her into a hug and smiled. “Go easy on each other, okay? I don’t want to be the one who made something bad happen to either of you.”
Jordan went downstairs and passed through the living room. Kris looked up from the couch.
“She’s all yours, Tanger.”