The Only Living Boy in New York

THIRTY-EIGHT

Van

The Uber home was torture. Taylor was flirtatious, her hands all over me and her fast speech hinting at her level of intoxication. She'd loosened up significantly since the previous night and I couldn't wait to get her alone. She knew it, too and and she was using that against me. Her body was pressed into mine the entire length of the ride home, her skin hot where it melted into mine, cheeks flushed with heat and intensity, and the pressing need to be alone with each other was at an all time high. The Uber driver cleared his throat twice when things were getting too heated in the back. I couldn't help it. I was drunk, worked up over being noticed, unnerved about Ivy, and giddy with anticipation over being in the studio next week. On top of that, I'd been thinking about Taylor for hours. It was the perfect storm, a recipe for disaster.

When we landed on the doorstep, I fiddled with the keypad out front, my own drunken state catching up to me as I fumbled with the code. We barely made it in the door before we were all over each other. I kicked the door shut with my boot and reached for the deadbolt, locking it loudly before my hands wrapped around Taylor's waist, fingers in a rush as they tugged the bottom of her shirt, pulling it over her head. I groaned at her lace bra and kissed her neck. She giggled at my reaction and I guided her to the couch.

"I've been thinking about this since we left." My voice was low as I spoke, kissing her between breaths and trailing my hands over the lace of her bra.

"I've been waiting for this for days." She replied as a low growl formed in the back of my throat.

This was the reunion we should have had last night. This is what should have gone down instead of the fight and the aftermath. And now...now I was starving for her, and everything was rushed and in a drunken state. She was pressed into the couch as a straddled her, a smug smile creeping its way up to my lips.

"What?" The word was muffled with heavy breaths as I shook my head, pulling my shirt off over it.

"Remember the first time? It was right here...couldn't make it to the bedroom."

"My memory is a bit foggy, maybe you can remind me."

I shook my head as I leaned down and kissed her, unbuttoning her jeans and pushing them down in a hurry. She raised her hips in an attempt to help me remove them and I realized then how difficult what I wanted to do to her would be on this couch.

"Not here. Not tonight."

She raised herself up on her elbows. "Excuse me?"

I stood up and reached for her hand, pulling her upwards. "I just mean...this isn't going to work here." She was flush against me on her feet, the lace of her bra scratching my chest as I kissed her softly.

"So where?"

I tugged at her hand as I led her into the kitchen and she frowned. I kept the lights off, the streetlights outside doing enough justice to light up the space. I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her deeply as we moved toward the table I'd never used, I picked her up and sat her on top of it, her legs falling off the edge.

"You're serious?"

I nodded once. "I never use this table, and I have this desire to fuck you on every surface in this house. Starting here."

Her eyes widened as I spoke and she wrapped her arms around my neck as I pressed my forehead against hers. "If you don't want to do that...tell me now."

Her lips found mind in a hurry as she pulled me closer. "Please don't waste any more time."

I didn't say another word as I dropped to my knees and kissed the inside of her thighs, nudging them apart slowly. She moaned my name in response as I moved higher, pausing only to tug at the hem of her panties. She raised herself upwards as I pulled them down and freed her feet from them one leg at a time. She pressed her hands down flat on the table behind her and leaned back as I finished my slow torture toward her core. She was already shaking by the time I pressed my lips against her. She jerked habitually as I moved my tongue slowly, in circular motions while she writhed against me.