FEEL IT IN MY BONES
Feel the Beat Trilogy #2
By Arryn Frey
Copyright 2011 Arryn Frey
Smashwords Edition
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"This is your place!?"
Jesus. Jesus. I owned an apartment in one of the lower neighborhoods, but this was something different entirely. She looked at me and smiled, looking almost apologetic.
"Yeah. I, uh... well, it makes up for the work I did to get it."
She grimaced. I spared another second looking at the black curves of the tattoo that swept around her pretty eyes and then looked around again, awestruck. A penthouse. A goddamn penthouse. Furniture out of some high-end catalogue, space enough to fit my apartment about ten times over, and entire walls of windows. Which were covered. Strange.
I turned to her and raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Why the shades? Gotta be a great view, right?"
She frowned. "Yeah. But people look in, y'know? And I don't... well, I just don't. I get nervous, all the city out there, the height..." she trailed off. I let a smile creep into my expression, tinged with a bit of disbelief. A penthouse, and afraid of heights? But I wanted to look out, and damned if I wasn't going to make her do it too.
"C'mon, lighten up! It's beautiful out there, have a look! Just pull the shades and—"
City.
It deserves a capital 'C' no matter what the context, and even at 3:00 in the morning it was just as heart-stop pretty as it was in the sunset. High towers and streets packed with light, glittering windows and canyons of concrete and steel, seen from a vantage point where I could almost, but not quite, pick out the moods of people as they walked along. It's awe-inspiring and it's beautiful and I wished like hell that I had this kind of apartment so I could see it every day.
Rain trickled down the windows, a silent reminder of the storm that had knocked out the lights in the club. It wasn't much now, but the drops gave the world a photo-blur that made everything glow like neon, points of light warping and melting until they merged together and shone double-bright. Streets became rivers, red and bright white shot through with taxicab yellow, and even the buildings took on a different look if you squinted. My city. My New York.
I grabbed her hand and dragged her in front of me, slipping my hands around her waist and smiling. "You've gotta look out here more. Definitely at night. Especially at night. Clubs are all well and good, but you can't get the scale. I mean, look at all the cars! All the people! All those lives, walking around at three AM! Can't beat that. I dare you to, in fact."
I squeezed her around the middle and she laid her hand on my arm, and from where my head leaned over her shoulder I could see her smile tentatively. She was beautiful, a 5'9 girl with graceful features and a thin body to complement my muscle.
"I guess it's cool. I just... I don't know. It scares me sometimes. All that out there, it makes me feel... small." She sagged a little in my arms, and I nuzzled at her affectionately.
"Well you've got this view, don't you? This apartment? Pretty big stuff, I'd say. Don't let it bother you. Trust me. Just enjoy it." I scritched at her belly some and she sniffed, trying to hold back a laugh. But her grin showed through and I laughed instead, then turned her around and kissed her.
She wasn't one of the rough types, the ones that try to shove themselves down your throat. I liked that in a girl sometimes, but mostly it just wasn't for me. She was gentle, tender even. Soft and submissive. I liked her even more for it, and I slipped an arm around her back and pulled her to me, then pressed further into the kiss. Her tongue danced a bit with mine and I felt her lips, pressed to mine with just the right amount of weight, and then we broke and I let out a long breath. Something tickled at the top of my spine, right at the base of my neck. It made me smile. I hadn't felt it for a while.
"So what now? Sleep? Got a king-size stuffed in here somewhere?"
She flushed and looked down. "Yes, actually. But... I don't think I want to sleep."
She looked back up at me, and her eyes, god help me, were the most amazing things I've ever seen. Call it poetic, but to hell with the artsy-types and literature and all the rest of it: this was the truth. This was right in front of me and those two brown eyes held me like handcuffs. The thought made me wonder if she had any. That could be fun.
But I just smiled and smiled. "Hoped you'd say that. Got any music? I saw a few speakers littered around, bet you worked on that."
She nodded. "I've got something in mind." An iPod slithered out of her pocket, and in a few seconds she was grumbling over some technical problem. Then she groaned. "Forgot to turn the speaker system on. Laptop needs to be up too. Hang on a minute, I'll go get it." She was still flushed, and she gave me a little half-look back as she went into another room. When she was out of sight I shook my head in wonder. I didn't even know her name.
This night had been like a lot of others, when it started. Rainy Friday, out of work and into the hazy, heavy-beat world that I built for myself on weekends. Barred flashes of light and dancing that touched the soul, and then here was this girl, up against me in the dark and just as adventurous as I was. Maybe more. She started it, after all.
Then, later, we'd trekked through rain, time blurring along with the feelings in my head as she led me back to her place. I didn't stop her; my place was cross-town, and I didn't want to go back. In retrospect, ditching my jacket at the club had been a bad idea. But I hadn't expected this. And there was still that niggling feeling at the top of my spine, the tingly, warm, make-you-smile-can't-tell-why feeling you get when you like someone. Or was it love? Hell if I knew.
Music.
The first few notes were soft, long, volume turned way down then arcing higher as it was adjusted. Then a voice, female and remixed, filtered, backed by a beat that I could feel in the floor. I knew that music. I...
"Like it?"
The grin on her face had fire in it now, smoldering with a heat that made me immediately want to shuck my clothes. But that wasn't what made my jaw drop. She wasn't wearing anything.
Black tattoos arced across her chest and around her sides, some intoxicating pattern that made me lick my lips. I wanted to trace them all, so agonizingly slow that she’d beg to have me stop. She moved a finger on the iPod and lights dimmed, going dark in some places, low and yellow in others. That beat was still there in the background; Tiësto at his best, and two girls with voices that slithered and coiled around my mind. But even that faded compared to her as she sauntered over, taking care to emphasize the sway in her step. I couldn't move. I tried, I tried to speak, too. But those eyes held me, gentle humor and desire and something else that I couldn't pin down.
She finally got over to me, then trailed a finger down my shirt and poked her nose into my face with a smile.
"Dance."
So we did.
The music picked up. My arms moved, trancelike at first, then faster, in time with the rhythm that made the windows shake. She took a different approach, all wide movement and whole-body twists that made her seem to ripple like a sheet caught in the wind. I went breathless. The music had the same effect that it had in the club: it sucked my soul out through my ears and sent it to heaven, and let my body do what it would. In the low light and cityglow I danced, we danced, moved and twisted and smiled like it was the best night of our lives. And if it wasn't, it came pretty damn close.
The song slowly died down and I moved to stop, still entranced, but she shook her head and smiled that same infuriating smile, then put her hands under my shirt and pulled if off so quick I didn't realize I'd lifted my arms. Then the song started again.
Beat. Rhythm. Notes. All meaningless words next to sound, pure sound, that force that can shake you to your core and make you do things and realize things that you've never even started to form thoughts about. We moved to it like we were drunk, swaying and bucking in the center of the wide-open expanse of the living room, and the hot tears in my eyes blurred light to streaks as the voices caught me by the heartstrings again. Her movement slowed me further, but then the chorus came again and I moved, moved toward life, flailed and danced and danced until the music started tapering off once more. I tried to say something, but she saw and caught me, kissed me on the cheek, and then yanked down my pants.
Again, the music started.
I started to see where this was going, but that train of thought got stuck somewhere beyond my reach when she started grinding against me. A quick turn and it was like the club, but now it was flesh-on-flesh, that delicious soft touch that sticks in your sense memory just as deeply as sex itself. It shorted out my brain. I danced, but my eyes were for her, and the grin on my face was entirely too wide. She looked back, and the fire in her smile was searing, unbearable.
I kissed her, just as fiery, and this time I felt the passion in it, the pressure that put her on the balls of her feet as she leaned in, and we grabbed each other like all of existence depended on staying together. The speakers beat out that same song, the beat-beat-beat that words, now, didn't seem to describe in any sensible way. Too much sensation. Skin-on-skin, fingers tangled in the black of her hair, heaven in my ears and that fierce, perfect contact of our lips.
Music faded away again, and then my boxers were gone. I almost got a word out this time, but then she grabbed me and I thought I'd never speak again. She whispered something soft and seductive in my ear, and I could do little more than let what was left of my voice catch in my throat.
Her hands were all over me, and I tried to move, but she just pressed me backward, danced me toward a couch, and I sat down and just closed my eyes. She sat back to me, teasing my cock as she swayed, pressing it between her cheeks and going slowly up and down. I did groan then, but it came out as more of a whimper. I didn't care. It was the truth, my body's truth—and I, I just wanted more.
Her hand worked up and down on me now, and I panted, eyes looking up at the ceiling. This was different than the club, for sure. Better? Worse? Hell, what did it matter? I felt a thumb over my tip and gasped. She was good. Damn good.
Stop. Restart. The song started up again. I tensed, guessing what was coming, and I was right.
She slid down through my legs and turned in the same motion, something so smooth and perfect it made me shake my head and laugh. Then her mouth was all around me, wetness and warmth and oh god was it good. Her tongue swirled around the length and over the tip and back down again, and when she bobbed up and down with the beat I thought I'd go over right then. She was being thorough. I knew why, had guessed from the moment she'd lifted my shirt off me what seemed like hours ago. But then she sank down and took me to the hilt and son of a bitch was it hard to keep from cumming. But the music slowed again, and then she lifted herself up, pressed me back into the cushions, and sat down on me.
Tight.
Jesus. Christ.
I gasped with all the air left in my lungs, and she buried herself in my neck, nipping and nuzzling and all the while sliding up and down on me with a silky perfection of movement that I'd only ever seen in cats. I strained and gripped the cushions, but she just kept going, and I knew that I wasn't going to last long. She pressed herself against my chest and bucked up, looked into my eyes, and then slammed down, hard enough that it made me wince at the same time as I let out a hah! of pleasure that blew loose hair out of her eyes. And she kept going like that, a heavy, hard rhythm and pressure of her hands on my sides, fast and tight.
The music slowed. One of the few pauses in the course of the song. It trailed off to almost nothing, and she rocked back and forth against me, hands moving to my shoulders. When the chorus slammed into me she started the same rhythm again, and I could feel it coming. One two three four--
Then rhythm and time meant nothing anymore, and vision was white-hot, fire in my veins and on my lips as I cried out and bucked up at the same time as she came down, and the world was there-not-there, blurry and sharp and yes, yes, YES!
I locked my hands behind her back and gasped irregularly, thrusting as sharp and as fast as I could, and then shuddered, a motion that made my vision go out of focus and my breath play hot on the air. But when focus came back I wasn't done yet. Not with her. Couldn't be; she deserved to get just as much.
In the familiar lull in the music I flipped her on her back, one quick motion that left her surprised but not unhappy, and at the first sign of a beat I started thrusting with all I had, leaning on the back of my forearm and slipping my fingers across her most sensitive of spots. Her eyes went wide then slitted then glassy as she felt every shred of sensation and reveled in it all. And then her hand came up as her mouth opened, and I leaned down on top of her. Flesh-to-flesh, hand beneath her back as she moaned and whimpered and finally oh I'm cumming, I'm cumming...! as she shivered and shook underneath me. I felt her clenching on me, little waves that milked me for all I had and made me shiver just as hard, and still, I'm cumming, little short whimpering whispers in my ear that made me slow down even as the music slowly tapered off for the final time.
I nuzzled at her, still feeling her involuntary clench around me, and watched her expression melt into that afterglow daze.
She started to speak, but I just put a finger to her lips and nodded. I knew what she was going to say. I felt it too. The song had it right, pinned down that little twinge at the top of my spine that I hadn't recognized at first. That breathless moment of realization when I'd thought good god, she's beautiful when the lights had come on at the club, and right now, the dreamy lines of her face as she looked at me.
Love. Goddamn.
I couldn't tell why. I'd worry about that later. But for now, I pulled out of her and softly stroked at her hair, letting the lines of the chorus ring loud in my head.
I feel you in my bones / you're knocking at my windows / you're slow to letting me go / and I know this feeling so / oh this feeling in my bones.
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About the Author
ARRYN FREY is the author of several erotic works, among them In the Dark, Feel it in my Bones, and Strobe, the last of which will soon be available on Smashwords. He prefers to write in a more experimental style rather than use obvious description, and has an ongoing fascination with music that has led to the creation of the Feel the Beat trilogy.
If encouraged by readers, he has given his assurances that he will write more.