I stared out of the passenger side window as Justin pulled his truck into the valet of the hotel he'd yet to tell me aout. I immediately recognized the symbol on the glass doors leading into the place, but was unable to accept what my eyes bestowed, “This is where we‘re staying?” I asked, in disbelief.

“They keep a room open here for me at all times. Just in case desperate times call for desperate measures. If you ask me, Trevion, our situation is certainly desperate so, yeah… this is where we‘re staying.” He stopped the car right in front of the hotel doors and the ten valet on duty seemed to be having a flat out argument about who was going to be the lucky boy to help us.

I was still too shocked to care, however, “But… Justin! This is the Regent Beverly Wilshire!”

“It’s your favorite movie, isn’t it? Pretty Woman? Isn‘t this where they first got down to it?”

It was! I stared at him, shocked at his memory, “Oh my god! You’re insane.”

“You told me to bring you to someplace nice.”

“Nice, Justin. Not extravagant. Sometimes I forget that there’s a very fine line between those two words for you. I’ll be sure to make myself more clear next time… A hotel like this? I’ll be too nervous to breathe on anything, let alone have sex.”

“Trevion… we’re staying.”

“I don’t know…”

“Get out of the car.”

“But…”

“We’ll get the penthouse and I’ll pretend you’re a hooker with a bobby pin holding up your boot, all right? If that‘ll make you more comfortable that‘s what I‘ll do!”

He was clearly joking, and seemed annoyed when I considered this, “Well… okay! But only if you call me your little whore.”

It was his turn to say, “No.”

“Okay, fine. We’ll talk about it upstairs. People are staring.”

I was climbing out just as he said, “It’s okay, people aren’t looking at you, they’re looking at me.”

I turned to him as I stood in the open doorway, and beamed up at him just as one of the valet came to my side, “Oh my god, you’re already saying Richard Gere’s lines. This is going to be sick.” I clapped my hands together and smiled gleefully up at the valet.

“That wasn’t one of Richard Gere’s lines.” Justin, who’d yet to open his door to get out, said, giving me a look.

“Yes it is. Him and Julia Roberts are walking down Rodeo Drive and she says, ‘I don’t like this, people are looking at me,’ and he says, ‘People aren’t looking at you they’re looking at me’ that was the line. Justin…“ I covered my heart, “… you’re so romantic.” I turned to the valet, who nodded in vigorous agreement.

The look on Justin‘s face was priceless. “Romantic is not me unintentionally reincarnating corny lines from Pretty Woman. Romantic is… is… white wine… and strawberries.”

“Oh my god. They had white wine and strawberries in--”

“Act two, scene one.” The valet offered.

My eyes shot to him and I cried, “Yes! See?” I turned to Justin, “He knows.”

“Okay, Trevion? Do you want me to take you back to Maniac Mountain?!”

The valet was startled.

I was stunned, “Shutting up.” I declared.

And, finally, Justin climbed out of the car. I walked around to his side just in time to see him hand the valet a twenty and, when he held his hand out to me, I ignored it.

So he grabbed mine and pulled, nearly making me fall on my face, until I was up against him. He lead me towards the doors. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I just want tonight to be about us.”

“It is about us. We wouldn’t be us if we weren’t fighting about the stupidest, most mundane things on the face of the Earth.”

“You do have a point.” He said, smiling, leading me into the hotel. He tipped the young kid holding the door for us and said thank you.

I was too busy admiring the amazingly beautiful surroundings and how perfectly the director of Pretty Woman had captured the lobby that I didn’t even notice Justin had led us right into an open elevator.

“Mr. Timberlake.” I didn’t know what they called the guy who controlled the elevators, but he nodded to Justin then smiled at me, “Madam.”

“Trevion.” I insisted.

“Madam Trevion.”

“No…” I forced a smile, “Just Trevion.” This was already going badly. “My dimwittedness doesn’t seem as cute as it did on Julia.” I looked up at Justin.

“You’re always cute.”

I turned to the elevator guy, “Hey, what room does Justin usually stay in?” Before he answered, I offered, “The penthouse?”

“Yes, Madam.” The elevator guy answered.

I smirked.

“Don’t say it.” Justin warned.

“I wasn’t.”

“You have a sickness, Trevion.”

“Hey!” I waited for him to look at me, “That’s my line.”

He pressed his forehead against mine, nose to nose. “A sickness.”

The elevator dinged and Justin stood tall. Elevator guy was holding the door for us. Justin tipped him and pulled me into the hallway.

“Geez… by the time you’re done tipping all these people you’ll be broke.”

He laughed, “You have your purse. You can tip the next guy.”

It was my turn to laugh.

There was a hotel worker in a perfectly pressed outfit waiting at the end of the long, luxurious hallway in front of a tall, luxurious door. Justin stopped us in front of him and took the black card he held out in his white gloved hand.

“Thank you.” Justin tipped him, then pulled me in front of the door.

“You see.” I motioned to the hotel worker’s retreating figure, “What did he do to deserve twenty dollars? Huh?”

Justin swiped the card, waited for the indicator light to turn green and grabbed the door handle. It opened with a click that seemed to echo through the halls.

“He gave me the key.” Justin said, wagging the card in my face with one hand while pushing the door open with the other.

I stared past him, into the room, unable to believe my eyes, “And all he got was twenty dollars?” I could see the entire city sparkling from French doors leading to the balcony at the far end of the room and I wasn’t even in, yet, “Justin you have got to loosen up the purse strings a little.”

“Just shut up and get your ass in there, Spencer.”

I couldn’t argue with him on that.

The moment I stepped into the door, however, I heard his cell phone ring. I turned to him, just as he was closing the door to the room. The phone was in his hand, but he was just staring at it.

I, in turn, stared at him. I said, “Don’t answer it.” And immediately after I said it, my own phone rang.

“No.” Justin stared at me. “Who calls you on that phone?” He beamed.

“You and Kim!” I beamed back, “Who calls you on that phone?” I nodded my head at the ringing phone in his hand.

He stumbled, “Everyone.”

I rolled my eyes and flipped my phone, open. So did he.

We both answered at the same time, “What?”

Didn’t these fucking people know that we were trying to have sex right now?

I didn’t know who Justin was talking to, but I assumed he was getting the same information from the person on his phone that I was getting from Kim, who was talking a few hundred miles an hour into the receiver. We both hung up our respective phones at the same time and stood, motionless, in the middle of our beautiful hotel room.

Finally, when the silence went on too long, I raised my eyebrow, “Am I killing your little brother, or would you like to do the honors this time?”

Justin was already at the door of the hotel room, “Trevion… you’ve already had your fun. This time… that boy is mine.”

--

Twenty minutes later we were back at Maniac Mountain. For the first time since I’d saved his life, I realized what Justin must have been feeling when he’d been ready to jump off the side of my dorm. He took the closest parking spot he could find and we both jumped out of his truck. The sky was black as tar, not a star in sight, but Manic Mountain was a wonderland full of windows, and the blisteringly bright colors and lights radiated off of the entire building and nearly blinded anyone within a hundred mile radius.

Under the parking lot lights, I could see Justin’s face pulled tight with frustration. We were both out of the car, but neither of us was in a big hurry to walk back into the building. Frankly, we were both pretty upset about the night we were going to lose. Justin met me on the passengers side of his truck and grabbed my waist, pulling me to him.

I could smell the Altoid he’d just eaten when he whispered, “I’m sorry… this is my fault. I completely forgot… about the cake… the song… fuck…” He looked away from me and towards the building where Steven’s entire party was waiting for us, “Fuck, Steve.” He frowned.

“Hey.” I swatted him, “It’s not the little midgets fault. You did promise him that you were going to be there to sing Happy Birthday. Then you just bounce at the first offer of sex from some girl.”

“Yeah, but you’re not just some girl, Trevion.” He took a step closer to me. Our chests touching.

“I can feel your heart beating.” I informed.

He didn’t smile, “I have so much shit to take care of here. You have to be back in school. When am I ever going to get you alone?”

“Look, I know this is all kind of a big bust.” My eyes widened, “It doesn’t mean that it wasn’t meant to be. It just means that our timing is off.” I squirmed, “Really off. We’ve got plenty of time to screw each other’s brains out. Just not tonight.”

He hesitated.

“Now common…” I grabbed his jacket and had to, literally, pull him towards the building, “We’re got a motor mouth six year old in there who’s pretty damn pissed off. If I know Steven Timberlake--and I think I do--”

Justin finally laughed.

I smiled, “Then I know that he’s about a million times more annoying when he’s upset. So lets go in there, sing the kid Happy Birthday and beat the upset out of him until he’s back to his dirty, six year old, motor mouth self.”

Justin stared at me as we made it to the doors. “Where was I when you fell in love with Steven?”

I scoffed, “I’ll let you know as soon as I figure out where the hell I was when I fell in love with Steven.”

The entire party was seated inside at the tables that I‘d set up with my own hands. When Justin and I walked in, hundreds of faces, young and old, flew towards us, none of them happy.

The children were the ones who scared me the most, “I think we’re in trouble.” I whispered, taking notice of a red headed little boy at the end of the first table giving me a look of death, “I’m frightened of the child on the end.” I said motioning to him.

Then my eyes caught Steven. He was sitting in the middle of the table with big fat tears in his eyes. His birthday cake was sitting in front of him, unlit, and Lynn was standing behind him with her hand on her hip. The woman was not happy. As I took in the scene before me, I realized it was exactly as Kim had described over the phone. She was sitting across from Steven. Somehow she’d ended up with a Power Ranger party hat on top of her head and she looked none too happy about it. Trace was sitting right next to her, shaking his head at us.

Steve spoke, or rather screamed, first, “Where where you?!” The tears in his eyes were very real. The hurt in his voice was so poignant. Even I found myself looking back at Justin, accusingly. It was his fault, after all, that Steven was so upset. If I had known that Justin had promised to be there to sing Happy Birthday to the little brat I never would have persuaded him to have sex with me while we were in the Starbucks.

“We’ve been waiting here for almost an hour.” Lynn chimed in, “Steven refuses to light the candles without you. The place is closing in fifteen minutes, Justin!” She was screaming Justin’s name but her accusing eyes were on me.

“I’m sorry, I drug Trevion over to the Starbucks with me and lost track of time. You know how I get when I’ve had to much… caffeine…” Justin quickly shut up when he realized his words meant little or nothing to the mothers and children before him, “Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“But the party’s almost over now. You promised you’d be here!” Steven hollered. Damn. Kid was really mad. I was surprised to learn how much his grammar improved when he was pissed off. “I don’t want you, anymore!” He declared. When those big fat, doe eyes landed right on me, I immediately shook my head. Steven asked, anyway, “Trevie… could you sang Happy Birthday to me?”

“No.” I declared. Rock solid. Steven was a cute kid and I was sad that he was crying but there was no way.

In hell.

That I was singing in front of all these people.

--

“Thank you for sanging Happy Birthday to me, Trevie.” Steven said, later on that night, after Justin and I had tucked him and the twenty million children he had sleeping over, into bed. It had been a long fucking night. It was bad enough that Steven had screamed and cried at Maniac Mountain until I’d finally given in and sang Happy Birthday to him (which everyone, and I do mean everyone, found enormously funny), but after the party was over at Maniac Mountain him and all of his little friends had started another party when we’d made it back to Justin’s house.

Lynn, Trace and Kim had promptly ditched us, declaring that they’d been with the little monsters all night and since Justin and I were so anxious to be alone together then we could take over watching all of the little kids-- alone together. They were all traitors and I was fairly certain they were all asleep, like every other sane person in the country, in their respective rooms. I would hate them all until the day I died.

There were six little boys total. Connor, Joshua, Reggie, Tim and Albert. All under the age of seven, all bad as hell. Justin’s plan was to put as much sugar into all of them as possible, then sit back and wait patiently for all of them to collapse where they played. This had been a genius plan that took patience, but worked wonderfully.

We’d sat in the den watching re-runs of the Real World and whenever one of the boys demanded sugar, we distributed it without question. At one point in the night, Justin actually suggested we give them all Benadryl. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t momentarily entertain the suggestion. In the end, however, we decided that drugging the children wasn’t really necessary. They would do themselves in quickly enough.

All of the boys had eaten smores, root-beer-floats and birthday cake until they finally collapsed in the middle of whatever trouble they’d been individually causing. Little Connor was the second to last one standing and had finally given in at four in the morning, halfway through his tenth round of running all over the house screaming at the top of his lungs. Justin and I found his body strewn across the welcome mat at the front of the house. We presume he subcame to a Oreo Ice Cream overdose.

It was nearly five am, Justin and I were this close to collapsing our damn selves, and Steven was the last kid standing.

Why was I not surprised that Steven was the last kid standing?

He was tucked snug under his sheets, with all of his little friends in sleeping bags on the floor, but he didn’t look even remotely sleepy.

“Thank you for sanging to me, Trevie. It was really special.”

“You’re welcome.” I yawned. Honestly, I didn’t even have the energy to be mean to the little brat. Justin rubbed my back from behind me. I wanted to tell him to stop, because it was only making me more tired.

“Don’t you think it’s about time to go to sleep, Lil‘ Man?”

Steven’s entire face transformed at Justin’s voice, “Don’t talk to me!”

My god, this kid was seriously, seriously mad at Justin. Like, seriously.

Justin tried to act like a big man, like he didn’t care, but I could tell the little brat’s rejection was getting to him. “Look, Steve. I said I was sorry a million times, okay? If that’s not enough then there’s nothing I can do about that. I’m not going to beg you to be my friend.”

I threw Justin a look. Even I thought he was being a unnecessarily harsh.

Steven, on the other hand, was not moved, “Fine. ‘Cause I hate you!”

“Hey!” I pointed a finger at him, “Don’t talk to your brother like that--”

His fiery eyes were now on me, “You can’t tell me what to--” In mid sentence, he stopped cold, and I was sure his eyes rolled completely back into his head before he crumpled into the pillow behind his head. All movement stopped.

I stood, stunned. “What just happened?”

“He’s sleeping. Finally.” Justin rolled his eyes.

I stared at Steven, “That’s not a little kid falling asleep, Justin. That’s a kid going comatose. That’s a stroke.” I reached out to check Steven’s heartbeat, but Justin grabbed me halfway there.

“No…“ He pulled me to him and led me towards the door of the room. “That, Trevion… is the beauty of sugar.”

We slowly made our way out of the room, careful not to step on any of the sleep heathens, and eased to door to his room shut.

We stood out in the dark hallway, facing one another.

“So…” I whispered.

“So…”

“This was an interesting night.”

“It certainly was.”

I looked at the door, “I really think we should go check Steven’s pulse. Honestly, that’s not healthy the way he just fucking passed out like that.”

“I think we should just let him sleep. He’s been going a thousand miles an hour since six o’clock this morning. That’s almost twenty four hours. I say we should count our blessings and hope that they’re all asleep for another twenty-four hours.”

I couldn’t argue with Justin. He was making too much sense.

“Well…” I looked around me, “Everyone’s asleep.”

“Yeah.” He grinned.

“What do you want to do?”

He nodded towards the staircase, “Let’s go downstairs. Watch a movie, or something.”

I followed him to the stairs, “Do you have Grey Goose?”

“Nooow you’re speaking my language, Spencer.”

Justin and I ended up in the den at the farthest end of the house. He was in the cabinet unleashing our Grey Goose and I was in front of his entertainment center, fingering his DVDs. “My god Timberlake, you’ve got every movie in existence.”

“Not me.” He said, heading over to the couch with two shot glasses and a large clear bottle, “Trace.”

I came and sat next to him on the couch as he poured us some shots.

“What movie did you put in?” He asked, taking his shot immediately, like a pro.

I followed close behind. “G.I. Jane.”

He cringed towards the tv, “Trace owns the movie G.I. Jane?”

I smirked, “Looks like it. You can disown him as your best friend any day now, by the way.”

He leaned back against the couch and the entire room went black as the movie started.

“It’s a good movie.” I reassured. When I looked over at him, I found his gaze fixed on me. I grinned and pointed towards the flat screen, “TV’s that way, Timberlake.”

His eyes shone under the flickering television, “I’m only interested in one thing in this room.”

I raised an eyebrow, “The birthday cake? I wouldn’t go near that, Justin. You saw the way it just did Steven in.”

He leaned into me, “Come here.” He whispered.

I didn’t know if it was the sleepiness or the fact that it had very recently become much easier to say yes to him, but I scooted over on the couch until our thighs were touching. Then I lifted up and tucked my socked feet under my butt. Justin scooted closer, as well, and slung his hand over to my side of the couch.

We sat, facing each other, G.I Jane long forgotten, and when he reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, my eyes fluttered shut. “I’m way to tired to be romanced, Justin.”

“This is what it’ll be like when we have kids, you know.”

My eyes popped open.

He laughed, “I just wanted to see what you’d do.”

“Well, now you know.” I laughed.

“Why did you proposition me at Starbucks earlier?”

I was surprised by the question, and when I made a mad dive for the Grey Goose on the coffee table, he stopped me.

“Have you been wanting to for a while?” He asked, and when I didn't answer, he took one of my hands and laced it with his. He brought it to his lips. "Do you ever think about being with me?"

I watched his lips move against my skin, reveling in how the feeling shot straight from my hands to my center. "Yes." I closed my eyes against the revelation.

"What do you think about?"

I stared at him, "You're kidding."

His eyebrows raised. He wasn't.

I grinned and shrugged, "I don't know."

"Do you think about me fucking you?"

"Oh my god!" I beamed, immediately covering my mouth when it echoed. He shushed me and smiled playfully when I looked back at him.  “Do you?” I asked.

"Do I think about fucking you?"

I nodded.

His gaze never shifted, “All the time.”

"Do you think about me going down on you?" I asked.

His eyes fluttered shut and he sighed against my hands. He reopened them, and his gaze shook me. He answered, "Yes."

"Is it good?"

"Yes."

"What do I do?"

He answered, "Everything."

I grinned at him. This was kind of fun. "You have an unwavering honesty about you, Timberlake."

"I can't lie to you."

I leaned over to the coffee table and poured myself another shot. I down it in a second, and went to pour myself another. From behind me, Justin set his hand on the small of my back, then slowly slipped his fingers under the hem of my dress. The skin on skin contact was unexpected and I almost chocked on the alcohol in my throat. I swallowed it down, heavily, then leaned back onto the couch. I got one good look at him before his lips were on mine. I was tired and a little tipsy but it all felt way too good to stop.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to be with you like this.” Justin said, in between kisses. He took his lips from mine and traveled down to my neck.

“Oh god…” I whispered, tilting my head back. That was my spot. The neck. Anywhere on the neck. I was putty. “The feels nice.” I sunk into the couch cushions behind me, “Thank god those wild animals are asleep because that feels so…”

Justin laughed against my neck, which only made it all feel that much better. He paid the area ample attention. I was enjoying myself so much that I didn’t even realize it when he pulled me onto his lap so I was straddling him. Not until I felt him pressed against me. Against the panties I’d been waiting for him to rip off of me since the moment I’d laid eyes on him that morning. My dress had already become bunched up around waist, leaving my center pressed right up against Justin. The only real separation between us was the thin cloth of our underwear.

He ran his hands all over my body as he sucked gently at my neck. Oh, he was good at that. Real good.

“What do you want?” He scraped his nails along my back and covered my mouth with his. It was a frantic kiss. A kiss that got right to the point. Both of us were clearly tired of waiting. This had to happen. Whatever was about to boil over inside of us had to boil over… and soon. “Tell me…”

I reached between us and undid the button of his jeans. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and all but ripped the zipper of my dress down from the neck to my ass crack. I gasped softly as the cold air hit my back. Justin immediately slipped his hands into the open fabric, warming me up.

“This fucking dress.” He growled, “God damn, Trev.”

I rolled my eyes, “You can thank Kim for the come-fuck-me-costume.”

“Thank you, Kim.”

I laughed out loud and he immediately shushed me.

“The kids.”

I rolled my eyes, “You really are taking this wife and kid thing seriously aren’t you?”

“No, I’m taking this I need you naked right now and that can’t happen with six little boys running around thing seriously.” He clutched my waist in his hands, “What do you want?” He asked me, again.

“What do you want?” I countered.

His eyes studied mine. "You.  I want you."  Slowly, gently, he scraped his nails from the nape of my neck down to the small of my back. My entire body trembled a little more with every inch of me he touched.  "God, I want to taste you. I want to be the only man who knows what you taste like."

I let him kiss me, long and slow, running my fingers through his hair. He pulled away and I smiled, “What makes you think you’ll be the only one?”

His eyes searched mine, and he quietly answered, “A feeling.”

I didn’t know how he knew that a man had never gone down on me, or rather, that I’d never let a man go down on me, but he certainly did.

He massaged my back, “I would do anything for you, Trev.”

“I know you would .” I said, grinding against him. He was already hard and pressing against me with an urgency. The smile was instantly swept off my face when his bulge hit it’s target and a spasm shook me from head to toe. I was turned on. Very much so. I cupped his face in my hands and took in the look on his face. It was the first time I ever understood it. The first time I was ever comfortable returning it. “You know what?” I asked.

“What?” He ran his hands up and down my back.

“I’m going to need you to take your pants off and take your cock out… like, now.”

Justin didn’t have to be asked twice. I lifted off of him long enough for him to raise his hips from the couch and push his jeans down his legs. He tried to kick them off with me on top of him and I reached back and helped him tug off the last few inches when he had trouble. I stared down at the boxer briefs he had on. They were plain white.

“Those are cute.” I grinned.

“Cute is not the word I’m looking for right now.”

I raised my eyes to his, suddenly very aware that he was half naked. “What are we doing, Justin?” I asked.

He pulled my hips back onto his and, immediately upon feeling his cock pressed against my panties, all the questions vanished. He answered, “What we should have done two fucking months ago.”

I licked my lips and nodded, vigorously. It was all making so much sense to me now. I rocked, back and forth, against the very present bulge in his underwear, pretty damn close to having an orgasm off that alone. “You have no idea how much I need this.” I whispered, beginning to tremble at the sensation. I reached down at moved my panties to the side, “Fuck, Justin… it’s not enough. I want you inside me… now.”

“You know what?” Justin immediately grabbed my hips and stopped me in mid sway.

I stared down at him, my heart pounding, “What?” I whispered.

“We can’t do this.”

“I’m just…” He held his hands out, “I want you. God… do I want you. I’m just… I’m suddenly very aware that there are seven elementary school kids asleep right up those stairs.”

“So?”

“So…” He mimicked me, “What if one of them wakes up? Sees us?”

“Then he goes to therapy for a couple of years. Worked wonders on me, right?” I tried to kiss him, but he relented, “Justin. This is not right. You can’t turn me on and then say no.”

“I’m not saying no, I’m just--oh…” He threw his head back against the couch as I moved against him, “Oh, I’m just saying!” He fought past it, obviously, and stopped my movements, again, “If one of those seven year olds comes down here and sees us I’m going to have a hell of a lawsuit on my hands. Christ what if Kim sees?”

“Kim’s a big girl. She’ll understand.”

“What about Trace.”

I scoffed, “Let’s just hope he doesn’t have his camera ready.” I beamed.

“What about my mom? Don’t you think she’s had enough of my dick adventures to last her a lifetime?”

“After everything we’ve been through, I never thought--not in a million years, that I would be the one begging you.” My eyes searched his and I rolled my hips against his, throwing my head back when I felt him against me, “Pleeeease.” I moaned.

Justin had already thrown his head back against the couch. His lips were plump, pink, wet and parted. Every time he groaned he would swallow it back. It was almost as if he was drowning. As soon as he’d thrown his head back, though, he brought it back up and grabbed my hips, forcing the movement to stop. “Somebody will see.” He growled, through clenched teeth. His eyes were almost grey with lust, he was so close to saying fuck it and giving in. I could see it.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, tight, took the back of his head in my hand and pulled his face to mine. When I slipped my tongue past his lips and let it dance with his, the soldier’s grip he had on my waist gradually loosened until he was gently running his hands up and down my waist. He hesitated at my breasts and ran his thumbs along the swell of them hesitantly as he returned the kiss. I sucked his bottom lip between my teeth and my entire body shivered when I realized I was already addicted to his taste. It was a distinct taste. Sweet, but salty, too, with a hint of fluoride. He wrapped me in what seemed like a hug, but was nothing more than an attempt to pull my body closer to his. I kissed him slowly, gently. The slower I went, the faster he did. It was as if he were determined to contradict me, even when we were making out. He continued to massage my sides, hesitating at my breasts. It was clear what he wanted. I just didn’t know why he was depriving himself.

“You can touch me.” I sighed against his lips. When he didn’t, I took his hands in mine and placed them over my breasts. They weren’t much, but they were something, and he was a man. At the mere sensation of tits in his hands his breathing immediately grew labored, and when I pulled his lips back to mine, his kiss was more intense than it ever had been. My nipples were already hard and sharp against the fabric of my dress. He rolled them around in his hands. The sensation was amazing.

I pulled my lips from his, gasping, “Fuck! I keep forgetting to breathe.”

He pressed his forehead to mine and laughed, “Me, too.”

I ran my hands through his hair, “You’re a good kisser.”

“God, you too.”

Hesitantly, I moved my hips against his. There was no denying what I felt in between my splayed legs. There was no denying how badly I wanted it and the lengths I was now willing to go to get it. Ever so slightly, his hips shifted under mine. Responding. He was giving in. “I need this so bad. I need you…” I looked into his eyes, “Justin…”

He stared right back, but didn’t say a word.

I took his hand from my breasts and slid them down between us. Greedily, I guided his fingers into the pink polka dot panties that I now loved like my first born. The sensation of his fingers at my entrance was enough to drive me wild all on it’s own. He was right on the precipice, so close to touching the most intimate part of me but not quite there, yet. It was almost as good as the sensation itself-- the desire for it. Too bad I was horny and desperate and crazy about the man below me. Apparently growing tired of my game and unwilling to wait, Justin gave the tiniest push of his fingers, and my body opened to him like the hungry beast that it was. I threw my head back, overwhelmed by the sensation. It was as if every inch of me had been waiting for those fingers, those exact fingers. I engulfed him completely and without reserve, “Oh, Justin, that’s it. That’s it.”

“Oh god, you’re so wet…” He gently fondled me, his eyes boring into mine. He slid one finger into me, whispering, “We can’t.” Then another, “Someone will see…” And, very slowly, a third. “There are children.” He made a come hither motion inside me and I seriously almost screamed. “Trev… Quiet…”

I was no longer listening. I was no longer in service. I rocked against his fingers, blindly. I had to bite my lip just to keep from screaming out because, he was right, there were certainly children. The minimal quiet we’d managed to keep was severely endangered when he found my clit. He pressed his thumb against it, still pumping his fingers into me.

“Dear god, you know what you’re doing.” I gasped. I didn’t know why I was so surprised. His fingers slowed down, “Don’t stop.” I could have cried, “Don’t stop.” My eyes flew open when, despite my begs and pleas, he did just that. He stopped, that is. “Fuck Justin…” I was now panting, “Are you really enjoying my submissive side this much? You’re going to torture me until I call you my sex king or something?…”

He actually seemed to contemplate, then enjoy, the very thought of that, and I could have killed him. I needed to come. I needed it so bad and I’d had no idea how much I’d needed it until this asshole refused to give it to me.

“I’ll make you a deal, Trevion.” He licked his lips slowly, languidly. He understood that he was now in complete control, and for that I would make him pay.

I clenched my teeth, all the while my clit was throbbing where his thumb had just been, “What?” I growled.

He licked my bottom lip, “You’re right…” Then he sucked it between his own. My eyes fluttered shut and I kissed him back, unable to resist. When he pulled away, I was pulled right back, “I do know what I’m doing.” He whispered. His kisses moved from my lips down to my collar bone and my neck. He sucked on the sensitive flesh there, nearly sending me over the edge, “And I promise I can make you cum,” He kissed my collarbone, “And come,” The sweaty patch of skin between my breasts, “And come…” He pulled down the tiny strip of fabric that was still concealing my breasts, and took the nipple in his mouth. I could have cried. Somehow, I managed to muffle it. He released me from his mouth, letting the cold air dry the area he’d just been paying such ample attention. “But you have to be quiet. Even if it means you have to bite down on something, pull my hair right out of my scalp or physically reach up and cover your mouth yourself… you have to be--”

“Quiet…” I panted, “Got it. Please, Justin. This isn’t funny, anymore.”

“Who’s laughing?” He asked, reaching back down between us.

His fingers slid back inside me. I bit my bottom lip, hard, and wrapped my arms around his neck, throwing my head back, “That feels so good.”

He set his own pace, nice and slow. Whenever I ground myself against his skilled fingers, he would slow down to almost a complete halt. When I kissed his neck he sped up. Every time I tried to touch him myself, make him feel as good as I felt, he’d push my hands away. I nearly had my hand in his boxers and I stared at him, mouth agape, when he wouldn‘t let me farther.

“I want to.” I gasped. He felt so good working me into complete oblivion, I could barely understand my own words. My attempts to take him in my hands were short lived, though, when I felt a very familiar but very long lost rumbling in the pit of my stomach. I threw my head back and gripped onto his shoulders for dear life as I rocked against him. His thumb circled my clit frantically, as if he could feel every sensation that was rolling through me. As if the desire that was engulfing me was engulfing him, as well. I swallowed, thickly, and held onto him with one hand while placing the other over his. I pressed his thumb down harder, grinding against it with no shame. I was so close. It was so good. “Oh my…”

“Come on...” His voice was just as horse as mine. I looked down at him and saw his powerful eyes searing into me. His body moved with mine, his hips in tune with the fingers he was so perfectly torturing me with. The feeling behind his eyes only made everything that much more intense. “Come on, baby…” He quickened his pace, keeping a tight hold around my waist with one hand and rocking my body all the way to the core with the other.

I was no longer bashful. I was no longer shy. I just wanted to come. Sitting there on Justin’s lap, fucking that skillful hand of his with my head thrown back and my bottom lip held prisoner beneath my teeth, I was sure I resembled a very seasoned porn star. I didn’t care. Then the warmth came. It started at the very tip of my toes before shooting through every inch of me until it hit the top of my head. Then it worked it’s way back down, again. I felt like every inch of me was trembling as I slowly lost myself in what could only be described as an orgasm, but felt like something that couldn’t be defined with just that one word. It was something out of this world. Something I’d never felt in my life. Something that I never wanted to end. I arched my back as far as it would go when the last hot spasm hit. I didn’t want it to end, even as I came down from it.

“My god, Trevion, you’re so beautiful.” He continued to knead me even after my frantic grinding had stopped. I sat, trembling from head to toe, back still arched, eyes still tightly shut, unable to accept that it was over. It couldn’t be over. Nothing that beautiful should ever be allowed to end. Not ever. Justin pulled me up with the arm he’d been holding me with. He was so strong. His pecs were probably on fire. When he pulled me back into a sitting position I couldn’t stay up. Every inch of me felt like jello. I collapsed against him, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face in it. I never wanted to let go.

He pulled me into a hug, tight, breathing deeply into my neck. We sat that way for several minutes. The crickets chirping in the backyard and our pants seemed to meld together to form some kind of terribly bad music. The kind of music only he and I could make together.

Finally, when I managed to regain speech and some sense of bran function, I smiled against his neck, then kissed it, “Oh my god, Timberlake, if I’d have known you could do that I would have gotten you onto a bed a long time ago. Or--technically--a couch.” He didn’t respond, just pulled me against him, tighter. I wanted to pull back and look in his eyes, see what he was feeling, but he had me so tight. I couldn’t. Honestly, I wasn’t in too big of a hurry to let him go, either. No matter how sweaty we were both getting. No matter how much like sex the room was starting to smell.

Unfortunately, I had just had a orgasm, so I was feeling conversational. “This is one thing you’ll learn about Trevion Spencer. When I have an orgasm, I get talky. Real talky. Like, I can’t shut up. The stupid things I’ve said in life I’ve always said right after, well… you know.” I brushed my fingers against his shoulder, surprised at the sight I saw, “You have freckles.” I observed. When he didn’t respond, I tried to pull back, again, but his hold was too tight. “I’m feeling like a little bit of a motor mouth over here, Mr. T.” I waited for a response, “Like I’m all alone in an auditorium with 50,000 empty seats.” I laughed, but the smile vanished when I felt him kiss my shoulder, lightly, “Say something. I know that the sound of me begging is something you thoroughly enjoy, I‘ve learned that tonight. And you‘ve learned that the perfect way to make me beg is to make me come. And then to make me come and not say anything after.” I needed a response. Anything. “I’m grasping at straws here…” My body still shook. I knew he could feel it, “Say something.”

Then, right as I was about to go off on another talking tangent, he did. Right into my shoulder, his breath hot against my skin, he said it, soft, muffled, “… I don’t ever want to live without you.”

A feeling I’d never felt completely froze me, all the way to my bones. He must have sensed it, because his hold on me loosened, but not much. I cleared my throat, “I was expecting something along the lines of, ‘you got yours, Trevion, now it’s my turn’… something like that.” I said.

He sat back and looked up at me. I didn’t know at what point the two of us had ended up on the very edge of the couch, with Justin’s ass dangerously close to falling right off, but on the edge we certainly were. I looked down at the carpet and smirked. “We almost took one hell of a fall just now.” I said, throwing him a look. His face was so serious. So strong. I had to smile when I realized that, in my orgasm induced haze, he and I had somehow completely switched places. “Do you see, Justin?” I motioned the floor, “You’re talking about being quiet? We almost fell on our ass. We almost fucking bit it. Imagine the noise we would have made if we’d fallen.”

“It really wouldn’t have mattered… if we’d fallen.”

“No?”

“No.” He shook his head, “ ‘Cause, I’ve already fallen. Over. And over… and fucking over, again.”

My mind was no longer on the floor. Only on his words. His hands. The look in his eyes. I had to wonder if he was saying what I thought he was saying. I had to wonder if he was finally returning the sentiment I’d so stupidly given him the night he’d been packing his bags in Las Vegas. I wanted to be annoyed that he was suddenly so metaphorical, but with the look in his eyes and the fucking orgasm he’d just handed me on a silver platter, I doubted I could ever be truly annoyed at him, again.

I couldn’t speak, but I could nod. And nod, I did--frantically, idiotically, because I’d never understood him quite as well as I did at that moment.

He reached up, massaging the back of my head. “It’s not scary, anymore. Just necessary.”

I wanted to scold him for, yet again, stealing my words, but all I could do was try to fight the tears as I said back to him, “I know what you mean.”

Dear god, when did I get in so deep?

I reached out and placed my hands on his chest. Leaning down, I laid my body across his, letting my legs hang off the couch, not caring. Softly, I placed kisses all over his neck until he started to squirm beneath me. Then I moved them down his chest, taking my time to lap at each of his nipples. I continued on down, all the way down, until I wasn’t laying on him anymore, but on my knees on the carpet with my hands at the waistband of his shorts. I’d already seen him the morning before, but I was suddenly hesitant. It was all so different this time. I didn’t know why I was so afraid all of a sudden, but I did know that I needed to see him. Touch him.

I went to pull the boxers off of his body but he reached out and grabbing my hands in his, stopped me. My eyes shot up to his and I’d never seen so much desire in them. It made me want his hands on me all over again, “No.” I said, harshly, trying to pull my hands from his grasp, “I want to.”

“No.” He mimicked, only holding my hands tighter.

“Why?” I asked him, “Why wont you let me… see you?” He must have sensed how much his rejection was hurting me, because his shoulders stiffened. I pulled harder, but he still relented, “You’ll like it. I promise…” I smirked, “You’re not the only one who knows what he’s doing.”

Very gradually, the tight frown on his face gave way to a small smile, but his grip stayed. “I can’t, Trev…” He shook his head.

I scoffed at him, “Don’t do this, Justin. Don’t make me feel like the bad kid in the fifth grade peer pressure video. I know you want this. Look at you…” The bulge that had been pressing against me all night was more present than ever, nearly busting through the cotton fabric of his underwear. I bit my lip at the sight, wanting nothing more than to pull those fucking shorts off and officially know what every inch of Justin Timberlake tasted like, “I can take care of you.”

His breathing had grown labored, “Believe me… I don’t doubt you for even a second, baby and I’ve never… never wanted anything more.”

“So what’s the problem?” I asked, still staring at him, longingly, probably hungrily, too.

“There’s just no way…” He took a heavy, regretful breath, “That I can be quiet. There’s no way. Not with you.”

“Just bite your lip like I did. Believe me, there were a few moments there where I was sure I was going to fucking lose it and wake this whole house, but…I didn’t…” I threw him a look, “And, believe me, I had good reason to do just that.”

“But that was just fondling. It‘s only a matter of time before one of us takes it further.” Justin insisted, “What if that was my tongue on you instead of my fingers?”

My breath caught in my throat. I stared up at him, barely recognizing the man staring back at me.

“Hm?” He slowly ran his thumb down my cheek, “What if that was me inside you? How long can you manage to keep quiet, Trev? How long until just biting down on your lip isn’t enough? How long until you’re so overcome with ecstasy that you just… don’t… give a damn, anymore?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat was dry. I couldn’t say a word. I could barely think past how much I wanted the man before me. The words that were spewing out of his mouth at the moment certainly weren’t swaying my desire to pull his cock out and pump him into oblivion, either. I’ll tell you that much right now.

“Trevion, if I let you touch me it’s only a matter of time before I completely lose myself. Just resisting you right now… it’s agony. I know myself and I know that it wouldn‘t take long for me to reach a certain point. That ‘fuck it, I just need to be inside of this woman right now’ point of no return. Yeah, it’ll start of quiet… innocent… but that wont last. Before we know it a touch turns into a kiss, a kiss into a lick. Then we get out of control. The kisses get a little more wet. One of us might moan a little louder then we intended. Next thing you know we’re fucking, our skin is slapping so loud it’s reverberating against the walls and we’re screaming at the top of our lungs but none of that matters because all we can see--all we can think, is how good it feels and how close we are and how much we need what’s inevitably coming. That climax, that oblivion, the point where there’s no turning back. We’ll have our orgasms, yeah, but little Connor from down the street will be in therapy until he’s thirty. That‘s not what might happen, Trev, that‘s what will happen. Okay? That‘s why you can‘t touch me right now.”

I stared at him. “Have you ever considered taking up literature?” It seemed like a joke, but I was dead serious. Just from that little rant of his, I was turned on all over again.

His fingers softly caressed my face, as if he were memorizing every inch of it, “Tell me you understand what I just said.” He whispered.

I didn’t want to understand. I wanted to have sex, damn it! I stared at him, positive that the pout on my face very closely rivaled the ones Steven had mastered. With tight lips and cringe, I said, half heartedly, “I understand.”

He gently pushed my hands away from his shorts. That time, I let him. I didn‘t want to admit it, but I knew he was right. He took my face in his hands and kissed my nose like a kid. “Another time… when there aren’t children in the house.”

“So it’s okay for you to almost get caught getting me off, but it’s not okay for me to do the same for you?”

“Correct.” He immediately answered.

“Why?”

“Because if we did get caught, I’d want to be the one to take the blame. And because..” He stared at me, “Because I knew if I went another second without touching you I would go fucking insane. You, on the other hand, can wait another day.”

“Says who? I enjoy a penis just as much as the next Gia.”

He took each of my hands in his, and kissed them both, one after the other, before standing from the couch. “I’ll be back.”

I slumped against the carpet and watched him, “Where are you going?”

He chuckled, “Where do you think?”

“I can come with you!” I called, as I saw him walking into the bathroom at the end of the hall.

“Thin walls, Trevion.” He stopped at the door of the bathroom and threw me one last look.

I hated that he was going into that bathroom to beat his meat when he had me right there. Hated it. I bit my lip. “I like to watch.” Yes, I was officially pathetic.

“I like to be watched.” He flipped the light in the bathroom on, flooding that section of the room with light, and leaned on the doorway, “But not when you haven‘t even properly… seen me.”

“I‘ve never met a man with so many penis reservations. For fucks sake, Justin, will you please just let me get you off? I’m getting pissed.” I pouted.

“No, you‘re getting anxious. The waiting will only make it that much better, don’t you see that?”

“It’s no secret to anyone that you and I have been wanting to fuck each other senseless for the last couple months. I’m tired of waiting. I’ve waited. I don’t want to wait… anymore.”

“Neither do I. Please believe me, Trevion…” He paused, “The second I can get your ass alone… I don’t think I’ll ever let you go. This is just…” He laughed, softly, “Really bad timing on our part.”

I sighed.

“Patience is a virtue, baby.”

I pulled a face at him, “Don’t call me baby.”

He laughed and closed the door of the bathroom before I could say anything else. I wasn‘t going to as I was clearly fighting a loosing battle.

I was so sexually frustrated. That fact had never been so glaringly obvious until that night. It was too bad that I had a man who was refusing to have sex with me because we were in a house full of people who slept like a twinks on their first night in high security prison. It was the first time I was ever thankful for Steven and his hard sleeping little ass. At least I knew that he could be counted upon to give me some fucking peace while I tried to play doctor with his big brother in the den.

And so what if a bunch of little kids saw us having sex? They had to learn eventually, anyway, right? Too bad Justin was such a prude.

“Asshole.” I mumbled.

From the bath room, where the only light in the room was seeping from under the door, Justin yelled, “I heard that, Trev.”

I sat, stunned, “These walls are thin.”

I’m not sure at what point after I said those words I passed out in the middle of the den floor, but I did. Passed out, cold. That’s what I get, I suppose, for laughing at Steven when it happened to him.