Inside the elevator, Julius presses the button for my floor. As much as I’d love to go to his place, I suspect that his children are home, and I don’t want him to feel awkward. I know I want more privacy than what his place can offer right now. The bell chimes, signaling we’ve arrived on the fifth floor. My heartbeat picks up the pace and starts thumping harder. Julius takes my hand in his and steps out of the elevator. I fall in step behind him as he walks us toward my place. When he reaches my door, for a moment, I wish he had a key and could let us in. Instead, I have to let go of his hand to pull my key out of my pocket. I step in front of Julius and start to slide the key into the lock. His hands are on my hips. He’s so close I can feel his breath on my neck.
“I’ve never seen a woman carry only one key on her keyring,” he quietly says as one hand glides from my hip to my stomach and the other rests on the waistband of my jeans.
“I didn’t want to take my purse to Peyton’s, so I took my house key off the ring.” My words come out in a stutter, likely caused by the uptick in anticipation of what could happen once I open the door. The lock clicks, and all that’s left is for me to push the lever down and open the door. I don’t know why I pause. It could be to catch my breath, to steady myself, or maybe my subconscious needs a moment to reflect where I’m at right now. Behind me, one of the most handsome men I’ve ever met wants to take me into my apartment and do God knows what with my body, and I want that. One thousand percent, I want to be with Julius Cunningham.
Julius decides for us and pushes my door open. He guides us into the room and shuts the door once we’re clear. It’s dark in here, with only the lights from the riverwalk illuminating some of the space. I find it peaceful and can only imagine what the view from Julius’s apartment looks like from the top floor. My view must pale in comparison to his.
“Would you like something to drink?” I ask as I step away. I unzip my jacket and take it off. For some reason, I’m afraid to look at him. Fearful he might see how desperately I want to be with him.
“No,” he says, breaking the silence in the room. “The only thing I want is you, Autumn.” He turns me toward him, and a small gasp escapes as Julius’s hand cups my cheek. He looks into my eyes and then rests his forehead against mine. I think we’re both nervous and excited right now. Our breathing increases. Our chests are rising and falling together. My hand trails up his arm until I get to his neck, and then my fingers are in his hair, pulling him closer to me.
Finally, our lips touch, and it’s like the first time all over again. Julius’s arm wraps around my waist, hugging me to his chest. My breath catches in anticipation of what is to come. My mouth opens slightly, beckoning him. Julius’s tongue touches mine, and it’s like we are back in the locker room. My hand goes to his shirt and tugs the hem. Julius steps back, and the loss I feel from not touching him is heartbreaking. Even though he’s standing in front of me, looking at me with his lustful eyes, I want to touch him. He watches me watch him, as he pulls the collar of his shirt. In one fell swoop, his bare chest is before me, and all I can do is swallow. My fingers itch to trace the lines of his pecs. My tongue darts out, wetting my lips when I see his happy trail. The waistband of his briefs shows slightly above his jeans, and it’s like a prelude to what’s hidden behind the denim he’s wearing.
I step forward with thoughts of kissing every inch of his chest, but then decide if he’s taking off his shirt, I might as well remove mine. My arms cross in front of my chest, and I grip the ends of my top, pulling until it’s off and laying on the floor. I keep staring at it while I work the clasp of my bra, only to have Julius stop me.
“You’re unwrapping my gift without me,” he says as his fingers undo the back of my bra.
His words make my knees weak. He sees me as a gift. I glance at him and start to pull my arms away. He stares intently and tosses my bra onto the growing pile of our mingled clothing. Without another thought, we’re kissing, and his hands are on my body, cupping my breasts. I push into him, needing the friction of our bodies touching.
Before I can register what is happening, he’s popped the button on my jeans and has them around my ankles. I help kick them off and relish in the way his mouth feels as he kisses and nips at my skin. I giggle as he picks me up, which makes him smile. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he carries me to the couch. I fully expect him to lay me down, but he doesn’t. He sits and leans back. It’s like he knows what I want. His fingers dig into my flesh, guiding me closer to where the bulge of his pants is. Julius sits up, cups my breast, and sets his mouth over my nipple. My head falls back, and in an instant, I’m grinding against him, moaning like a woman who hasn’t been touched in years.
His mouth is magical. And so are his fingers. He sucks and licks while his fingers twist and pull. Each action from him causes me to buck wildly against him. I haven’t had this much desire build within me in years. The need for him to be inside of me is urgent, but he doesn’t seem to want to move any faster. So I decide to take matters into my own hands. I reach between our bodies and start working the button on his jeans. As soon as the zipper is free, the bulge turns into a full-blown erection. I have no choice but to lean into him, to give me the angle I need to touch him. My hand slides into his boxers, and he smiles against my skin.
“So eager,” he says.
“So horny,” I retort. “I’ve wanted you from the first time I saw you.”
“Me too.” Julius does everything he can to get his jeans off without me having to take my hand away from his shaft. I stroke, he fumbles, and then makes up for it by rubbing me between my legs.
“Oh . . .” I start to moan, but he stops what he’s doing. I look at him, wondering what happened.
He shakes his head slightly. “I want to feel you,” he tells me. I think I understand what he’s saying but am somewhat confused. Do I move? Do I stay? My hand is still pumping his shaft, and while I think I should stop, I don’t.
Julius reaches for his jeans, and the movement is awkward. I’m still on his lap, with his erect cock in my hand. I start to move away.
“Don’t move.”
“Okay.” It’s then that I realize he’s getting a condom. Julius is back in his earlier position, looking at me. I move my hand, and he slides the rubber over his erection. I stand and shimmy out of my panties, waiting for him.
He beckons me to come toward him. “I want to watch you,” he tells me as he helps guide me onto his lap. I grip him, not afraid to show him that I can take control. I don’t care if he’s some big-time football player. I know how to satisfy myself.
And that’s precisely what I do.
Julius and I lay on our sides. Our legs are intertwined, and his arms are wrapped around me. Visions of what took place on my couch replay in my mind. The firm grip he had on my hips, moving me up and down on his erection. His eyes closing, and the way he moaned and called out my name. Julius, angling his body just right to help give me the relief my body craved. The way he took control and flipped me onto my back and pounded into me because he could no longer wait to make me his. Us, looking deep into each other’s eyes while our bodies did what comes naturally.