by Kim Holden
“Even better.” He deepens the kiss and before I know it I’m groping him in a public parking lot. It’s taking my mind off Maddie and that’s what I need right now.
When he breaks the kiss we’re both out of breath. I scan the parking lot. It’s dark and secluded. I glance at my car. The windows are tinted. So I proposition him. “Have you ever done it in a car before, handsome?”
He shakes his head and that damn crooked smile emerges. “There’s a first time for everything.”
He opens the rear driver’s side door, sits, and pulls me in facing him astride his lap. I reach back and pull the door closed by feel because my lips are on his again and I’ve no intention of placing my attention anywhere else.
Due to the confined space, it’s difficult to unzip our coats, but we manage. I throw out a silent thank you to no one in particular (because I feel weird thanking God for foreplay) when I realize I’m wearing a shirt that buttons up the front. Keller’s amazingly focused and in no time, my shirt’s opened to reveal my one and only lace bra. It’s the only pretty piece of underwear I own.
He’s moaning into my mouth and his voice hums through me, reverberating in every cell from my scalp to my pinky toes. I feel his desire as his hips move seductively against mine. We separate and his eyes fall hungrily on my chest. “God Katie, you are so beautiful.” His hands cup my breasts beneath the lace. They feel full in his hands and when his thumbs gently sweep across my nipples my back arches, forcing them closer to his talented mouth.
Answering the physical plea, he claims my sensitive flesh. Teeth tug with the perfect amount of pressure that radiates unbelievable, just short of painful, pleasure. There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain, and Keller’s fucking mastered it. I’m panting. And when his tongue traces an outline and fondles the tip of my nipple, I can’t hold back. “That’s it baby, don’t stop.”
I reach down between us, unbutton and unzip his jeans, and slip my hand inside his boxers. The heft of him in my hand recognizes boldness and twitches. I reward it and stroke the length of him slowly in appreciation and admiration.
He groans loudly, “Oh fuck, Katie.” He’s becoming increasingly vocal during sex.
Damn. The sound of his voice, the need in his voice, could finish me off. I lean down and trace the outline of his ear with the tip of my tongue, and he shivers. “Tell me what you want,” I say in a low whisper. He loves it when I talk like this.
“I want you. Every last beautiful inch of you.” He takes my mouth with his again. He’s maintaining the slow pace. There’s this level of control and confidence in him right now that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
He’s unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans now. His hands slide beneath my panties as he palms my ass and pulls me tightly against him.
I’m nearly breathless with carnal need. “Be more specific, baby. What do you want me to do?”
His hips grind out a tantalizing rhythm as his lips caress my neck. As his tongue trails south he commands, “I want you out of those jeans. Panties, too.”
That was almost forceful. I like it. A lot. And suddenly I can’t act fast enough. Fast proves complicated given the small backseat, so I settle for seductive. Keller likes to be seduced.
“Jeans, boxers, down to my knees,” comes his second demand.
Again I comply, and when he springs free of the restriction of clothing I want to take him in my hands. I really want to. But I wait.
“Now straddle me.”
Gladly. I leave him exposed between us. His length pressed up against my belly.
“Touch me, Katie.” His eyes are closed. His head tipped back against the seat.
My fingers wrap delicately, but firmly. Touch may be my favorite sense: the friction root to tip, the delicious tingle of my hand brushing along my lower belly and his. It’s mind-blowing.
He’s watching me now. His gaze is heavy, penetrating. I feel it. And it makes me feel powerful in the most basic, intimate sense, knowing how much he wants me right now. But that power pales in comparison to the control he’s owning right now. I need to give this to him, not because it’s scary, aggressive control, but because it’s I’m going to ask for exactly what I want control. And it’s hot as hell.
“Are you ready?”
I nod, because if I start talking I’ll make demands and I want him to finish what he’s started. I’m following his lead.
“How ready?”
I whimper as his hand leisurely glides between my legs. It’s agonizing. The ache intensifies.
“Goddamn Katie, I love touching you.” I feel his breath at my ear and his low, sexy voice continues, “You are so ready.”
I bite my lip and feel the sharp impression of my teeth. He’s driving me wild. And when his fingers ease inside I can’t hold back. “Oh God.” My hips begin to move with him as the sensations wash over me.
Lust has consumed the light in his eyes. “I love watching you. You’re so damn sexy. I want you, babe. I need to hear you say it. Demand it. Talk dirty. Tell me what you want.”
Holy shit, did he just ask me to talk dirty to him? With our eyes locked, without blinking, I tell him exactly what I want, in the voice that drives him crazy. “I want you inside me, baby, deep inside me. I want you to feel the desperation and need that’s raging through me right now. I want you to fuck me like you have a goddamn point to prove and you never, ever want me to forget it.”
The growl rumbles from deep in his chest. He lifts my hips and in one quick movement I’m filled with the whole of him. I gasp.
And as we start to move together I know neither of us will last long. That control from earlier? Yeah, it’s lost … for both of us. Words are spilling from my mouth, because at this point it’s working independently from my mind. “Harder … yeah, like that … more … ” He’s giving me everything my body wants.
When he finds his release he grunts and exhales. It’s an animalistic, primal sound, the single most erotic thing I’ve ever heard. It sends me flying over the edge with him.
We hold each other as our bodies become still and quiet. My face is buried in the crook of his neck. There’s a slight sheen of sweat there despite the cold of the car. He smells manly. Manly is my new favorite scent.
“Katie?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, baby.”
“I love it when you call me that. Say it again.”
I lean back and look in his eyes, because he needs to see how much I mean it. “I love you, baby.”
He smiles. It isn’t happy, or sad, or flirtatious. It’s affirming. It’s contented.
Saturday, November 19
(Keller)
The way they’re looking at me makes me feel small and inconsequential. It’s like their disappointment in me has reached an all-time high, and I haven’t even opened my mouth yet. The last time I demanded their time like this was when I told them Lily was pregnant. I guess I set a precedent for delivering what they consider to be bad news, and they’re expecting nothing short of that now.
I glance at my palm, Katie’s handwriting: You are brave. She wrote it in sharpie this morning before she took Stella to the park. I repeat the mantra in my head. You are brave. I clear my throat. “I’ve decided to change my major and pursue a new degree.”
My mother is on her feet. That quickly. One sentence and she’s already objecting like she’s in the courtroom. Let the crucifixion begin. “You will do no such thing. You’re not throwing away years of schooling.”
My father’s hand rests on her forearm. He’s urging her to take a seat without addressing her directly. He’s always been the passive yin to her aggressive yang. Once again they’re sitting across the table from me as a united front. Emotionally distant, even from each other, but united. Some things never change.
My father fills in the silence, “What are your plans, Keller?”
I don’t want to see the disappointment, but I look at him anyway. “I want to
teach high school English.”
My mother is on her feet again, pacing away from the table. Her heels clicking on the hardwood floor is the grating equivalent of fingernails dragging across a chalkboard. “Oh for God’s sake, Keller, how are you supposed to even begin to support Stella on a teacher’s salary?” She manages to make teacher sound like a four letter word.
“People do it all the time. The endgame for me isn’t to get rich. Stella and I will be fine.”
She waves me off in irritation and turns away momentarily before firing back. “This isn’t a game, Keller. You have a daughter to provide for. I thought you wanted to study law—”
I cut her off. “You wanted me to study law, to follow in your footsteps. It’s never been about me, about what I want.”
She shakes her head. “After everything we’ve done for you, this is how you repay us?”
Unbelievable. “What about me, Mother? I want a career I love, something I’m passionate about. I want to come home every night from work and feel like I’ve made a difference in someone’s life.”
She points an accusatory, manicured finger at me. “You don’t think I make a difference, Keller?”
I will never win with this woman. “Jesus, this isn’t a competition,” I sigh. “Your job’s more important than mine, more important than his.” I gesture in my father’s direction. He’s been very quiet. “This is about what makes me happy. Me. Your son.”
“You’ll lose your scholarship.” She seems sure of it and I wonder how many strings she’s pulled in the past to get what I currently have.
I don’t blink. I can’t show fear anymore. I glance at my palm. You are brave. “That’s a possibility.”
She huffs haughtily. “Possibility? Possibility? It’s a certainty, Keller.”
“I’ll apply for student loans.”
She barks out a cold laugh, as if a loan is below the Banks family.
My father finally speaks up. “What about Stella, Keller? Have you considered how this decision will affect her future?”
Brave, brave, brave. “I’m moving Stella to Grant to live with me. As soon as finals are over—”
My mother lunges toward the table. “What?! Stella is not leaving this house until you have completed your education.”
I answer with a lunge of my own. We’re nose to nose across the table. “She’s my daughter.”
“I am not paying for Melanie to move to Grant to care for Stella.” She thinks she’s got me.
“I’ll speak to Melanie and let her know that her services will no longer be required after December nineteenth. I’m planning on picking up Stella and her belongings after finals; that’s when Duncan’s moving out of our place to live with his girlfriend.”
She’s seething now. “How would you even begin to know how to take care of a child? Visiting every other weekend is a lot different than twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
My mother looks at my father shaking her head defiantly. “Did you hear that? He’ll figure it out.” She throws her hands in the air. “Wonderful. He’ll figure it out.”
My father’s looking at me and for the first time in my life, I see sympathy in his eyes. For a second I think he’s going to take my side. For the first time he’s going to stand up to my mother. But as the silence stretches on, my hope fades.
I can’t be in here anymore. I feel trapped, like I can’t breathe. I know my mother will see my escape as conceding defeat. She’ll take it as a victory.
But not this time. This time I win.
Monday, November 21
(Kate)
Me: Dinner. Cafeteria. 7:00. I won’t take no for an answer.
Clayton: That was not a proper invitation Katherine.
Me: Fine. Pleeeeeeeease. I miss you.
Clayton: I miss you too. See you at 7:00.
Clay’s waiting for me at our table when I get to the cafeteria. It’s 7:07.
I set my tray on the table and hug him before I sit down. “God, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.” I eye him up and down. “You’re looking good, my friend, dapper as ever.” He does. His bright pink sweater and green dress pants are adorable and he looks so much happier than the last time I saw him.
His cheeks blush and he bats his eyelashes. “Thank you, Katherine.” And then he looks concerned. He’s staring at me. “Katherine, is everything okay? You look a little pale. And you look like you’ve lost weight. Don’t get me wrong, you’re still absolutely stunning, but something seems off.”
I’m not here to discuss me, that’s for sure, so I sweep it under the rug, “I’m fine. I was a little sick last week. It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
He doesn’t look convinced.
I change the subject, “So, how’s everything in Minneapolis? How’s Morris?” He’s been staying at Morris’s every night and commuting to Grant only for classes. This has been going on since I found out about The Asshole, Ben Thompson. I try not to think badly of people, but fuck that guy.
It’s like watching a cartoon character come to life in front of me; there are hearts in his eyes. “Morris is wonderful. I never thought I’d find love, Katherine, but I love him. Everything about him.” He looks around conspiratorially and leans in to whisper, “I’m moving to Los Angeles with him after New Year’s. His uncle’s opening up a club there and wants him to manage it since he’s done so well with the one here.”
“Holy shit, Clay! L.A.? That’s a big decision.” I’m shocked.
He smiles and it’s the smile of an excited child. “I know. Isn’t it exciting?”
I nod, because, yeah, it is exciting. “Good for you, dude.” I mean it, so I say it again, “Good for you.”
He knows I mean it. “Thank you, Katherine.”
“I don’t want to sound like an overbearing bitch, because I’m not judging either way, but I have to ask. You’re leaving because it’s the right choice for you and the direction you want your life to take, right? You’re not running away from the bad stuff here, are you? Because it would make me sad to know that your friends here lose you because of some douche-y asshole.”
He laughs. “No. I think I need to get out of the pool and go swim in the ocean. I’ve never lived in a big city before.”
I get it, so I repeat, “Good for you.” And then the nagging side of me kicks in. “Just promise me you won’t quit school. Get your degree, dude. The world could do with a well-dressed accountant.” I don’t know why, but the thought of Clay sitting in an office doing something as mundane as accounting has always struck me as funny. His character is too grand to be contained behind a desk.
He rolls his eyes and raises his right hand as if to show there’s sworn honesty in his response, “Yes Mother, I promise not to drop out of school. Besides, who else is going to do your taxes and retirement planning?”
Ouch. That hurt. Right in my heart that hurt. I don’t want Clayton to know I probably won’t ever need to do taxes again. I force a smile instead.
He rubs his hands together and smiles deviously. “I heard a delicious rumor from Pete,” he says, pointing at me, eyes twinkling, “that you and Keller are officially dating.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Any truth to it?” He smiles again. “And don’t leave out any of the naughty bits.”
I’m stone-faced. “Pete’s feeding the rumor mill? I’m gonna have to talk to him.”
Clay’s eyes are wide, expectant. “Well Katherine?” He extends his arms over his head and points down at himself dramatically. “I’m dying over here.”
I laugh and nod. “There may be a bit of truth to that rumor.”
He claps the quick hummingbird wing clap that he always does when he’s excited. “Oh my God, Katherine. I’m so happy for you.” Then his hands still and he’s whispering again. “Katherine, I know you’re not the superficial type and neither am I, okay who am I kidding maybe I am, c’est la vie. But that boy is hotter than a tamale.”
Clayton crack
s me up, but I agree wholeheartedly. “Yes … yes he is.”
He squeals. “Not that I’m trying to rush things between you, because I know you both need to finish school first and maybe do some traveling. I really think you should see Europe someday, at least France … oh and the Greek Isles,” he rambles, “but I desperately hope things work out between the two of you because … Oh. My. God. You two would have the loveliest children ever genetically created.” He’s beaming.
His adorable smile softens the blow that comes with the words. I’ll never have that. Never. And that sucks.
When we finish up dinner we promise to stay in touch better than we have these past few weeks. I love Clayton and I want to make sure he’s okay until he leaves and moves on to the next chapter of his life ... and I move on to mine.
I hug him at his car and it’s so fucking hard to let him go.
I try not to think about dying, but I can’t help it lately. And that makes me sad. I don’t want to be sad, because in reality … I have a pretty awesome life.
Today, my life is awesome.
I don’t want to think about tomorrow.
Or the day after that.
So I repeat to myself: Today, my life is awesome.
Thursday, November 24
(Kate)
Shelly was here at Keller’s place bright and early this morning, groceries in hand: a turkey, a tofurkey for me, and all the fixings. I didn’t realize it before, but she loves to cook.
After the turkey’s in the oven and everything else is prepped, Shelly, Duncan, and I head to Grounds for some coffee. It’s closed today, so we have it all to ourselves. Perks of knowing the staff. We all crowd around the fire and talk about how Keller is going to deal with the weekend ahead. He’s at the airport picking up Stella. Melanie is headed to Seattle to spend the holidays with her family and arranged it so that she had connecting flights in Minneapolis going out and returning so she could fly with Stella both ways. This is such a big step for Keller; Stella’s never visited him here before.
Shelly is still in shock about Stella. Duncan told her last night at Keller’s urging. I tried to ease the shock. “I never would’ve believed it, either,” I told her. “It’s really something you have to see to believe.” Stella is like a world unto herself. A world where I’d like to live forever.