“You’re drunk,” I accused.
Mark touched my chest, directly over my heart. “I love his big cock,” he cooed. Then he laughed like a naughty child caught stealing cookies out of the cookie jar.
It took me a second to pick my jaw off the ground. What must Lynn think of this! I told you not to talk about my cock!
Mark turned to Jake. “It’s an inside joke,” he assured my cousin.
“I’m sure it is.” Jake’s eyebrows were hovering over his head.
“Clever,” I said sarcastically, once I pieced together what Mark was getting at. “I meant for you to refer to my penis as my ‘heart’. Not the other way around.”
“No,” Mark corrected. “You said I needed to switch ‘cock’ and ‘heart’ and everything would sound so much nicer.”
I was miffed... and probably had said it that way. “You knew what I meant.” My cousins laughed at us. “He’s always using my own words against me.” I stopped Mark from touching me playfully. “I’m wondering how long he’s been holding onto that joke?”
“Not longer than you and your pregnancy joke,” Mark countered.
Probably right... again. I tipped my drink to him and took a sip.
Mark turned the conversation back to our morning errand. “You should come look at my apartment,” he offered my cousins. “I’ll show you how well I take care of my man. We have a guest room... you can stay there if you’d like.”
“That’s kind of you to offer, but we already made arrangements with my parents.”
“He has a nice place,” I concurred. “He loves to show off. Hey, you’re a show off, you know that?” I teased Mark and tried to get him off topic.
“It’s our place, babe.”
Don’t call me that.
“It’s your place. We’ve already been over this.” Numerous times.
Mark turned up his megawatt smile and roasted Lynn and Jake with it. “He’s moving out of his parents’ house, now that we’re together.”
Lynn touched her hair. Her voice caught when she tried to speak and she had to clear her throat... Mark was clearly flustering her... winning.
“Chris told me about his apartment hunting,” she said. “Do you want us to go look at your new place?”
“Yes,” Mark said, glowing like a supernova. “Why don’t we all go look at his new place? Then we can stop by mine for drinks. Or we can just lounge around my table in the dining area. Or we can sit in the sun. Or breathe the clean air. There’s all kinds of things we can do at my place.”
“There’s clean air in my apartment.”
“For how long?” Mark snapped, his voice no longer playful and his glow gone. “You said Nick was a stoner. How long until you have a contact high?”
“We’re not doing this here. I told you my decision was final—”
Mark pleaded with me. “We didn’t make a decision at all. You know what the best arrangement is. Why don’t you just move in with me? You can have the entire front window for your plants, I swear. Hell, I’ll even have Gloria water them for you.”
I slapped my forehead. “Now is one hundred percent not the time to bring up Gloria.” I looked at Lynn and made a disgusted face. “Gloria is his maid.”
“Wish I had a maid,” Lynn stated. Ah, crap. Here we go. “Is your new apartment really that bad?”
“He has to live with two filthy, broke college burnouts—”
“They both graduated. Suhail is very accomplished. And he happens to be your age and very hardworking.”
“Why don’t you fucking marry Suhail already!”
“Gah! You’re making a scene. If I moved in with you, I’d still have to share with one person. There’s not much of a difference between sharing with one and sharing with two.”
Mark bent over the table, clenching his fists out of frustration. “You cannot be serious right now. You are ridiculous.”
Lynn laughed.
“What?” Mark and I both asked.
“You’ve been around Chris way too long. The number of times he’s called me ‘ridiculous’...” Lynn shook her head but smiled serenely. Mark was, oddly, very proud. She continued, “And as for the apartment situation—”
“No one asked for your input,” I said sourly, cutting her off.
“As for the apartment,” she repeated. “I thought you were trying to save money. And you also want a stable situation. You shouldn’t want to deal with more people because they clog your work space and your head space.”
“Thank you!” Mark cried. “I won’t even make him pay rent, if he doesn’t force it on me.”
“I have to do it like this,” I said stubbornly. “I have to be able to do it on my own.”
“Nobody ever does anything on their own,” Lynn replied, with equal stubbornness. “This sounds like a waste of money. Money you could be spending—”
“I’m doing well enough with my first romance series. I’ll rush my next one if I need more money.”
“I thought you worked on a mystery all summer,” Mark said. Suddenly there were two crazy people attacking me. “That book didn’t have too much romance in it. Unless you count between the killer and the detective... and that’s fucked up.”
“I did work on a mystery. It’s at my editor’s right now. But most of my money comes from silly romances.”
“Huh,” Mark said. “I read that other romance. The one we got from the library.”
“Did you?” I asked, surprised.
“It wasn’t bad. Not my thing, but it wasn’t bad.”
“I told you I ghosted that in three weeks. And they changed a lot of it.”
Mark turned back to Lynn. “We’ll have to have you fly up for the book party.”
“What book party?” I asked.
“Your book party.”
“You always want to throw parties. Some people actually have to work.” I was miffed... again.
“We’d love to come up for a book launch. Chris has never invited us to one before.”
“Because I’ve never had one. You’re not supposed to have your friends buy the book. It messes up the algorithms. You want to target readers that like your book so that the algorithms promote your book to the right people—and the right people aren’t your friends.”
“Fuck the algorithms,” Mark declared. “I’m throwing you a book party.”
“Mark,” I whined, hating how my voice became so wimpy.
“It’ll just be a small one... I promise.” I know you too well to believe that. “And hopefully by the time your book is ready, you’ll be moved into my apartment.” He grinned at me.
“Fat chance.” Why are you always pressuring me! Ah!
We sat there and talked for another hour. Jake was reserved, but that was his personality. My cousin ran over him easily, especially when she had fresh blood to entertain (and especially when she was on a mission to make sure Mark was up to my standard).
Mark and I exchanged banter, as new lovers tend to do. We did it without thinking. It felt so natural to sit beside Mark and tease him. This self-portrait might make it sound like we argued a lot, but that’s because stories are naturally made up of conflicts and you tend to forget the boring days.
In reality, Mark and I argued very little. Our arguments weren’t bitter clashes—they were a normal part of what every new couple goes through. We were adjusting to each other. Mark and I both had preconceived notions of what was best for us as a couple. The next few months of our relationship were going to be about finding a balance between naïve dreams and reality.
IT WAS 2:30 BEFORE the four of us separated. Lynn gave me a huge hug when we were done.
“He seems like a good one,” she whispered in my ear.
“He is.” Most of the time.
“What’s with all this talk about marriage?” she asked.
“He likes to tease me. He knows I don’t want or need marriage. And he likes to put pressure on me.” I shrugged.
“He shouldn’t put pressure on you,”
Lynn said sharply.
“I don’t pressure him to do anything,” Mark protested, overhearing my cousin. “We go at his pace. Right, babe?”
I nodded.
“We’re taking it as slow as he wants to go.”
Mark might have been saying nice things about me and about our relationship, but just by commenting on the slow pace of our progression I felt pressure to speed it up. That’s how my personality worked. I wanted to be perfect... and now that I had a partner to please, I wanted to be perfect for him. I wanted to show him the maximum amount of affection. Therefore, I was going to speed up.
Lynn knew this about me. She didn’t look pleased at the way our lunch was ending. She could see the invisible pressure building on my shoulders. “I’ll call you when we get to grandpa’s,” she said. “You can always come out and visit.”
“I just partnered with this man a week ago... I don’t need to be throwing him to the lions so quickly.”
Lynn laughed. We separated. I had to fight back tears and hated that I could be reduced to weepiness so easily.
I had never been so weepy before when talking to Lynn. Then I met Mark and suddenly couldn’t control my emotions. I had promised Mark there wouldn’t be more drama in our relationship, but there I was, ready to cry again.
I watched my cousins leave.
And I was happy.
I got to do a real, couple thing with Mark. I got to introduce him as my partner to my family. And Lynn accepted him. And she loved me. And she supported me.
It felt like more than I deserved. I generally felt that every good thing that happened to me was more than I deserved, but my relationship with Mark was like a bonus on steroids. Every good thing we did together—as small as a lunch with my cousin or as big as getting engaged—everything with Mark was better than I ever deserved... a pure bonus.
We drove back to his place. I followed him into his bedroom. “What’s up, babe?” Mark asked. I normally didn’t hover around him so closely.
“I... uh.” I tugged at my shirt. “I think we should probably... uh... you know.”
“I don’t know,” he said, taking off his shirt. “Sorry for calling you ‘babe’. I know you don’t like it.”
“It’s not that. I think we should... I’m ready to try it.” My stuttering got him to stop changing his clothes for what would have been the third time that day. “With you. Uh, babe. I think we should try it.”
“We’re going slow,” Mark said softly. “If you don’t want to do it, don’t feel like you have to.”
“I want to.” I nodded, strengthening my resolve. “We joked about it with Lynn. She probably thinks that we—”
“Who the fuck cares what she thinks,” Mark said hotly. “I mean, about this... about what we do in the bedroom. Who the fuck matters besides us? You know I want to have fun with you, but if you’re only doing this because of what you think so-and-so thinks... I’m not interested. I told you that before.”
“I know,” I said softly. I walked to him slowly and gave him a bear hug, leaning with all my weight. “I love you.” I kissed him, gulped, waited for my eyes to stop misting. “We have all day together. And you’re leaving for a fashion week next week.”
“You can come with me,” he said quickly.
“I can’t do that. You know I have to work.”
“You can work anywhere.”
“Honestly, you’re getting worse than my grandparents. I have to be consistent. That’s the most important thing about being a writer—I have to sit my butt in the chair every day and do the work.”
“You can do the work in New York.”
No. “I don’t have enough website days in the bank. I’ll work ahead while you’re gone so I can be ready for a vacation. How does that sound?” Mark had taken me on a five day trip up to Wisconsin a couple months earlier—that had been my first vacation in years. I had spent every day before that trip planted in front of a computer, working. If I went with Mark to New York in a couple days, it would be a true vacation and my years long consistency with my website would be broken.
“I love you,” Mark said. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m here now.”
“I know. You can stay here while I’m gone. You don’t have to stay in that room.”
“I think it’s better that you won’t be here for my move in. My parents won’t be as suspicious.”
“Not everyone overthinks things like you do. My God, would it be so bad for me to meet your parents?”
“You don’t know my mother. She’ll know something's up. Especially if you keep using that horrible cologne.”
“It’s not horrible! When we go out, we smell good.” He sniffed my chest. “See, you smell good, too.”
“I smell like you. I don’t know why I let you put that on me.”
“You didn’t let me. I had to tickle you until you relented.” He tickled me to prove his point. I pulled on his naked chest and directed him to the bed. We kissed as we nestled into the sheets. “We don’t have to do this,” he whispered. His cock was fully erect and threatening to bust his pants.
“Help me out of my shirt,” I said. It was a tight shirt and showed off my new physique. Mark’s hands roamed over the fabric. I forced his hands under the hem and he did the rest. “I feel better. That shirt was too tight for my liking.”
“You looked hot as fuck.” He kissed me. “Sorry, you looked spiffy as fuck.”
“Maybe we should say ‘spiffy as—’”
“As a unicorn,” he supplied.
“No.” I laughed.
He touched my stomach... too hard. He bit my left nipple.
“As a rhino,” he amended.
“No.” I laughed again. He touched the top of my copper pants, the skinny pants that I had never worn before. “I’m going to need help getting out of these things. They’re so tight.”
“I can’t believe you like skinny jeans.”
“I don’t like skinny jeans. But I like these.”
He popped the button.
Mark stopped after undoing the zipper. “You do me first, babe... ushka.”
“I’d rather you call me ‘cheese’ than ‘babushka’.” I helped him out of his shorts, which revealed the outline of his throbbing cock... barely contained by his plaid boxers.
“Anything I do to you, you can do to me,” I promised. He slid my copper pants down my legs so we were equally undressed, kissing my body as he went. He didn’t kiss my underwear. My cock was not aroused in the slightest.
“Okay babushka. You want to get me naked?” he asked.
“As long as you don’t poke me in the eye with that thing.”
Mark peeled his underwear down to his thighs and I slid it the rest of the way down his body. He looked so handsome. I wished I could cover his lower body with a sheet so I didn’t have to see his erection.
He kissed me and his hands slid down my body. “Relax,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you. Today we’re just exploring. You can do whatever you want with me.”
“Kiss.” We kissed again. I forced my hands to slide my underwear past my thighs.
“You look so spiffy,” Mark said passionately.
“You can stop saying that. It sounds stupid.”
“It’s what you asked for. You have to be careful what you wish for.” He slid my underwear off my legs and threw them to the floor.
I probably shouldn’t have wished to get in bed with you this afternoon. I probably shouldn’t have signaled that you could... touch my asshole. Ick. Why the hell would anyone want to touch someone else’s asshole? It makes no sense.
“Relax,” Mark said, massaging my shoulders. “This is going to be fine. Don’t be so tense.”
“I’m not tense.”
Mark laughed. “Babe, I bet your ass cheeks would squeeze my cock like coal into diamonds. You need to relax.”
Why in the world would you mention coal when you're talking about digging around in my butt! Ah!
“Do it.
”
“Relax. What can I do to make you more comfortable?”
Not touch my hole.
“Let’s kiss,” I suggested, nervously.
He sighed, but his kisses were as passionate as ever. His hand trailed up and down my stomach, skipping over my cock to my thighs. “This is what I’m going to do,” he murmured. “I’m just going to touch your hip, okay? Not going to touch your cock, or anything.” He placed his hand on my hip and rubbed gently. We were both on our sides, so this was a completely natural maneuver.
“That’s good.” I encouraged him... why did he need encouragement? He looked at my cock, which hadn’t twitched since I flopped on the bed.
“Yeah, that is good,” Mark said. “I like your heart.” He stared straight at my deflated cock, which was almost speared by his full mast. “I’d like to see your big heart grow.”
“That’s so sweet,” I said, moving his hand to cover my chest where the heart was.
He kissed my chest. “I like your big cock, too.”
“Not sweet.” I wasn’t as nervous after our talking.
“I’m going to touch your ass now,” Mark said gently. “Shh... don’t get tense. I’m just going to cradle it, like a baby.”
Not a good comparison.
He cupped my butt cheek. “See, there’s the bottom—” His hand roamed over my butt. “—and there’s the top. Nothing to worry about. It’s just skin.”
“Yeah,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
“Maybe we need a new name for your ass.” He pinched my butt. “Damn, it’s so perky. I love it.”
“That’s enough loving on my butt. I’d like you to love me for me.”
He laughed and we necked. His mouth was warm and gentle.
“If this—” Mark lightly touched my cock. “—piece of skin and muscle is called your ‘heart’. Then this—” He cupped my butt cheek. “—should be called the ‘brain’.” He gently massaged my butt. I tried to relax. “This is all we’re doing today,” he said. “This is really good. I’m so proud of you for not going all turtle on me.”
“It’s okay. If you want to go further...” He moved his finger to my asshole. I gasped, then thought about the fact that his finger was touching that disgusting poophole. Germs!
The Lover (It's Just Us Here Book 4) Page 4