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"Nothing elaborate," she had told me one night, as she held me in her arms and dotted my clavicle with kisses. Her voice brought me back down to earth and I hummed, needing to make sure my voice still worked.
"What do you mean, cariño ?" I asked, and she blushed at the nickname.
She pulled me closer, getting that timid look on her face that she puts on sometimes when she’s thinking something big. Her eyes were sparkling. “I know you’re thinking of proposing,” she murmured, biting her lip. “I just don’t want anything elaborate, okay?”
I smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Of course, honey,” and that had been it.
She was waiting for me, for my commitment to some sort of plan. We went to the mountains to camp one weekend and she was on her toes the whole time, waiting for me to kneel so she could just get it over with. Even when I told her I wasn’t planning to propose then, she was still shaking, smiling nervously, thinking maybe I’d tricked her or I’d be looking to surprise her in the morning.
If we were out to dinner and I’d reach towards the pocket on my jacket, she’d tense up - in a good way, of course - but still she’d go rigid, waiting to see if I was pulling out a little box from within. When I came up empty-handed she sighed, content, and I promised once again, not tonight, not here, I love you but not here.
The ring I had was simple; we had picked it out together months ago while ring shopping with Ruth. Arthie had leaned over to me, pointed gently to it, and whispered, “That one.” I had nodded, storing the image of it in my mind. Maybe not then, but soon.
When I came to buy it the man behind the counter looked at my coolly; he didn’t ask me what it was for or whom, but I could tell from his questioning gaze he had some thoughts about it. Whatever. For me, at least, the ring is more a symbol of commitment to each other rather than that of an ensuing marriage. Our real options were slim anyway. I just wanted to show to Arthie and all the GLOW girls and anyone else we met that I was serious, I loved her, I was ready for the future, all of it, all of it, all of it, with her.
I knew what I wanted that first time she let me go down on her in Vegas. Arthie was giggling, asking if this meant we were still together, and I had to laugh back because damn was she adorable. She released herself for me, let herself go, coming undone beneath me. I was broken, being mended by her soft moans and the whispers of my name from her lips. She was wrong, she was so sexy, but she was intimate as well. I didn't realize it at first but she was pawing at my hand, reaching to join our fingers, and I smiled into her at the gesture as we linked.
When she finished I waited for a moment, leaning back to observe her, marvel at my creation below, to see what I had done to her with reverence. But before I could take it all in she was pulling at my hand in hers, using her other to grab at my head and bring me down to kiss her. Her fervor emboldened me and I knew I had met my match. I knew what I wanted: her, forever.
We had moved back to Los Angeles together once our stay in Vegas was done; we got a house, a cat, a routine that worked. In the mornings we would watch the birds outside and I tugged her closer. I wrapped around her like bark on a tree, feeling her laughs shake my body and calm my racing mind. I wanted to be like this forever.
I called up the Fan-Tan, asked for Sandy. The concierge was reluctant at first but I wasn’t afraid to boast the name “Bash Howard Productions” to get him to transfer me over. I told Sandy what I had planned and what I needed, and of course, she said she’d help; it was because of us GLOW girls the casino was still running anyway, so she owed us all a few favors.
I whisked Arthie away, taking the long way so we could stop in the Mojave and camp over for a night. We must have picked a good night since the camping site was deserted, and after we set up the tent and ate dinner, she laid a blanket on the ground and we watched the stars, like Vegas neons in the sky.
She was slow and quiet, pulling first at my flannel and draping it over herself, saying she was cold. My body was humming with adrenaline and expectations of the next day so I let the cool air blow over my torso, covered in just a cami. But then she was tugging at that, too, knowing full well I didn’t have a bra on underneath. Despite her innocent demeanor her eyes revealed her real intentions, and I reached up to kiss her but she pulled away.
“Let me,” she commanded, and I nodded, frozen in place as her fingers worked the buttons on my jeans open, slowly, slowly, dragging me along.
I reached for her hair, needing to feel something, but she grasped my wrists and pinned them above my head. We were breathing heavy, Arthie’s face was over mine, smiling mischievously. She knew what she was doing. “Let me know if you need me to stop,” she breathed out, kissing my forehead gently, and I murmured an agreement back.
Her lips grazed my breast, and I lurched upwards. She was so tantalizing that fuck even just that alone left me reeling, waiting for her to give me something more. I felt her grip on my wrists tighten, and she met my eyes. “Don’t make me tie you.”
She ran her tongue over my left nipple, reaching with her free hand to play with the right one. I moaned in response, my eyes snapping shut in pleasure. Arthie switched after a moment, grinning at the effect she had on me with such little effort.
Moving up to my ear she released her grip on my wrists, whispering, “Keep your hands to yourself, Ms. Rivas,” and I moaned as she bit at my earlobe. She sat back, then, pushing the already unbuttoned jeans off my legs with a proud look on her face. Many months ago she had told me that the view was the trophy; me, helpless beneath her was her greatest reward. I could see that on her face now as she ran her hands down my sides, placing kisses near my navel. She was teasing me, rough one second and gentle the next. It felt like whiplash as my core warmed, waiting for her to make her move.
“Arthie,” I groaned, my arms still stationary above my head, but she wasn’t having it.
She leaned back over my face, planting one hand next to my head on the blanket, her lips near inches from mine. “Shhh,” she whispered, and I felt my breath quicken as she made her move, sneaking her free hand into my soaked underwear, slipping one and quickly two fingers inside me, grinning wickedly as she watched me break.
My toes curled as she teased me, her slender fingers working their way through my core agonizingly slow, making me warm around her, pooling between my legs at the feeling. I wanted so badly to reach up and bring her lips to mine, to tell her how I felt, to propose right then in there under the California moon but my breath was gone, replaced with whimpers as she made me wait, well aware of what she was doing. She ran her lips down my neck slowly, sucking at my pulse. I felt my hips buck once, twice out of my control up towards her, and I knew what she was planning before it happened.
I gasped at the emptiness inside me as she retracted her fingers, giving me a look. “Tell me what you want, Yolanda.”
“You, please,” I gasped, my head falling backward, “Te quiero, I need you to touch me, Arthie.”
Her devilish smile returned as she met my eyes, slipping her two fingers back inside me, reaching deeper this time. I let out a moan as she moved downwards, pulling at my underwear and adding her tongue to her fingers, circling over my clit and making my back arch in sudden ecstasy. Her ministrations were slow at first, her mouth and fingers inside me timed with the rolls of my hips, but she knew my rhythm like that of our favorite songs and she felt what I needed right as I did. She was moaning too now, vibrating my clit as she felt my breath quicken. My hips bucked again and this time she let it happen, increasing her pace as I lurched upwards again, again, a few times more until I’m tumbling down from my high, moaning her name to the desert sands and she’s licking my wetness off her lips proudly.
Her mouth returns to mine and I touch her cheek gently, feeling the warmth on her face overwhelm me. My mind is racing as we kiss, but all I can do is hug her, pull her close. “Te amo,” I whisper, and she is hugging me back, breathing in the midnight air.
She responds, “I love you too, Yolanda,” and everything is okay.
She begged to drive the rest of the way to Vegas and I was happy to oblige, taking my job as music curator for the ride very importantly from the passenger's seat. We drove with the top down and her hair was flying everywhere and we sang at the tops of our lungs like teenagers, and it was everything. I reached to kiss her and we laughed as the car lurched to the side.
But when we got to the hotel my nerves returned, even as we checked in and the man behind the counter perked up at my name. Good , Sandy had let them know we were coming. I just hoped Arthie wouldn’t notice, but she was standing next to me smiling innocently all the same.
I led her to the elevator, waiting for her to figure out where we were headed. I tapped the button - floor 31, just below the penthouse - and her eyes lit up to meet mine.
Placing the hotel room key into her hands, she pulled us to our old room, the same room where we had spent month after month together, the room where I first realized the full extent of my feelings for Arthie, and she was right there with me to return to it all.
She opened the door and I whispered a thank you to whoever the room service staff were since they had followed my exact requests. No doubt Sandy was involved, making sure everything was falling into place like I had asked. The table in the entryway had a bucket filled with ice and two bottles of champagne, a box of chocolate-covered strawberries, and two glass flutes next to the bucket. There were roses in a vase on the table, their bright red petals matching the redness in my cheeks as we stepped inside. Arthie’s grip tightened on mine as I closed the door behind us, her smile wide.
“I know it’s cliche, but-”
She shook her head. “It’s fantastic,” she interrupted, reaching for a strawberry. Arthie turned towards me, glowing, and all I could think is that the stars last night had nothing on her. She offered me a bite of the fruit and I gladly accepted, feeling the juice drip down my chin. Swallowing, she ran her fingers over the lip of one of the champagne flutes, and hummed, “This is perfect, Yolanda.” Her lips kissed my cheek chastely, and I heard her whisper, “I love you.”
It was my turn. I turned her to face me and grabbed at her butt, dropping my handbag next to the door. She got the picture quickly, locking her eyes with mine and hoisting her legs around my waist. Her mouth fell to my neck, sucking at the little bruise she had left yesterday, her fingers clawing at my back as I carried her to the bed. Her tongue traced circles around my skin and my heart, and I was already feeling impatient to touch her as I dropped her on the bed, tearing off my shirt at speed.
I remembered it so vibrantly, then, as she unbuttoned her blouse. Her, beneath me, splayed on the bed like she was now and then, claiming she wasn’t sexy as my pupils were blown out at the sight of her. Her voice was soft, heady, asking me, does this mean we’re still together? and I had felt myself grow wet at the thought. But now I sat back, and I saw her unbuttoning slow. “Everything okay?”
I nodded. “More than okay,” and I kissed her hard, feeling my heartrate growing as she let out a breathy moan. I was really going to do it, I was going to propose. I had never been more sure of something than I was right then, just as I had been sure that she was mine forever, all those years ago, in this same room, in this same bed, with this same girl.
Her breathing was slowing just slightly when I flopped down beside her, on my side so I could see her chest rise and fall.
“That’s Vegas, baby,” she panted, running fingers through her hair. I laughed and reached to turn her lips towards mine, kissing her softly as she put her hand on mine.
I rolled out of the bed and made quick work of redressing. “Where are you going?” she quipped, her fingers closing around my wrist. I brought them up to my mouth for a kiss.
“Getting whipped cream for the strawberries. They must have forgotten it,” I lied, rounding the corner towards the doorway where she couldn’t see me. I quickly fumbled through my bag on the ground, fishing for the small box that held the ring. Slipping it in the back pocket of my jeans, I threw a tank top over my head and stepped outside the door, calling out, “Don’t move, I’ll be right back!”
How long did I have to fake before she would believe me? I counted the minutes, hoping that time wasn’t moving as slow for Arthie as it was me. After a millennium I closed my eyes and mustered up all my strength. “Here goes nothing.”
I opened the door quietly. “Arthie?” She was watching the news, of course. What a nerd. I smiled to myself.
I heard rustling from the bed and the sound of the TV turning off. “Yeah, babe?”
“Close your eyes, okay?”
She was quiet for a moment, but I heard her reply softly, “Okay.”
I peered around the corner wall and saw her there. She was laying where I had left her; naked, on top of the bedsheets, facing the darkened windows and the skyline of Las Vegas. Her stomach rose and fell slowly, silently, and I breathed a sigh of relief. My nerves were gone. She was all I needed.
I retrieved the box from my pocket and placed it on the table, quickly undressing to match Arthie’s nakedness. In the mirror I fixed my hair, opening the box one last time to make sure everything was right.
“Yolanda?” I heard her call out nervously, and I tightened my grip.
“I’m here,” I replied and rounded the corner, knelt beside the bed, and opened the box once more. “Open your eyes, mi amor.”
She looked around at first, but then her eyes met mine and I saw her worriedness fade. “Oh, baby,” she whispered, and I looked at her expectantly. I realized she was waiting for me.
“Will you-”
I couldn’t finish, her lips crashing into mine as she got to the ground hastily. I hugged her tight, feeling salty tears run down my cheeks. “Of course, of course,” she was saying between kisses and I had to laugh. I slipped the ring on her finger, beaming at the perfectness of the fit. “I love you, I love you.”
I wiped my tears away and pulled her to her feet, climbing back onto the bed. Her lips met mine once more, her hands all over my body, making goosebumps rise in their wake. I ran my tongue over her bottom lip, begging, but she pushed me back again. I groaned.
“No teasing, please,” I whimpered, but she just giggled at me.
She held her hand against my chest, taking another peek at the ring. “No, it’s just that I thought you might, I don’t know…” She ran her fingers across my jaw, watching me come undone. “You might want to get some of that whipped cream.” Her eyes sparkled as she bit her bottom lip, knowing how I melted at the sight.
“Yeah, of course.” I rushed over to the fridge where the whipped cream had been the whole time and returned to her hastily as I shook the bottle. As I got onto the bed I paused, trying to remember this moment, this feeling, this woman beneath me. I loved to admire her, and she knew it.
I whispered, “You’re so beautiful,” running my hands down her sides in awe.
“Oh, hush,” she replied, grabbing at the bottle of whipped cream and pointing at me. I gasped, feeling her muscles tighten. We were back in Vegas and she was looking to wrestle, and I was happy to oblige her, forever.