Getting Wet - It's Raining Men

He kissed my hand. We danced in the moonlight. Wren left with Dave to go “drink tea,” and Bob left with Gloria but not after telling me stories about when he was young, which Gloria later whispered were “entirely fabricated.” We took the front entrance to the apartment this time, like responsible adults. He flicked on the light once we were inside, and I noticed the Lazy Susan on the coffee table and the leather chairs covered in fur throws. The décor was kind of outrageous. Silly and beautiful and homey all at once.

“Hawkley, did you decorate this apartment?” I asked him.

“Nope, they just call me when they need someone to fix the sink.”

“Who did then?”

“Tofu Scramble mostly, a lot of pieces were my mom’s. Some of this stuff even came from Gloria’s mother’s house when she passed away. I smiled but felt tears rising again.

“How will you do it, Hawk? How will you give up your family to pursue your music?”

“I’m never giving them up. It was my pops who pushed so hard for this in the first place. I’ll be like Wren and fly back and forth as much as I can. I’ll make it work, I promise.”

“You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to make promises to me. I know your family comes first. You love them more than anything.”

Hawk grabbed me in his arms and kissed me with urgency. I fell into the rhythm of his kiss and the smooth press of his muscular body.

“I hope you don’t think this rash, Ally, but I already put you in that category. I consider you part of the group of people I love; actually, I put you on the top of that list. I was wondering just as seriously how I’d give up spending every minute with you to fly to Florida when I needed to.”

I guess in everyday relationships, his comments would have been a red flag, but they swept me off my feet because, admittedly, I felt the same way. I started unbuttoning his shirt as fast as I could. When I couldn’t get the last one, Hawley simply tore it away.

“I wanted you all night. From the moment you got here,” he said between kisses. “Fuck recording contracts and private jets. I just wanted to bury my cock in your pussy and make you come as hard as you can.”

He unhooked my bra and slipped it from my shoulders, kissed my freckled shoulders, and began to torture my nipples. I was already wet for him as he started undoing my pants. We barely made it to the bedroom, once again, leaving a trail of clothing in our wake.

Hawk lay down on the bed and pulled me on top of him. I was down to nothing more than my panties, and he was in jeans. He caressed the curve where my back met my ass, and I rotated my hips, grinding my center into his erection.

“So one of the fun facts I learned this afternoon while I was reading over your contract is that I’m eight years older than you,” I told him. Age was just a number to me, but for some reason, the difference was weighing on my conscience. Like he might up and run when he found out I’d be hitting my forties while he was still in his thirties.

“I know. ’85. Saw it the first night on your ID,” while he sucked my nipples into his mouth.

“It’s not weird to you?”

“What are the numbers? Well, I mean,” he shimmied my panties down, and I lifted my ass to enable him, “numbers can be strange. Like, one, how many times I saw you before I fell for you. Or two, how many times I made love to you before I wanted to propose to you. Or three, how many times I saw you total before I knew I was in love with you.”

He caught my mouth with his in a fiery kiss and interwove his strong fingers in mine. We kissed, and he gently slid into me. He was rock hard, and my body was yielding. We flowed together like a song and made music with our bodies. His hands traveled from my waist to my ass and back up to my neck. He touched me like I was precious, kissed me like I would fade away, and needed his energy to revive me.

“You’re mine, Allison. You were meant to be for me, my lovely girl. I wrote songs about you before I even knew you existed.”

“I love you too,” I whispered into his kiss.

“Stay with me. Marry me. Be mine forever.”

“What did Wren’s Tarot reading tell you, Hawkley?” I asked him.

“She said: Of better days, there are none; the rest of your life has already begun.”

“Where have I heard that before?” I asked him. I was already so close to exploding, imploding, an orgasm of unmatched proportions.