by Tabatha Kiss
I feel a deluge spill out of me. It covers his cock and thighs, but Drew doesn’t seem to mind. He keeps going, gripping and fucking me until he can’t hold back anymore.
Drew drops the massager as he comes. He takes hold of my hips and thrusts home, staying deep inside as he spends himself. I feel his cock inside, filling our condom for the third time tonight. I’ve lost count of how many times he’s made me come. Five? Six?
He slips my leg off his shoulder. As I let it fall, I realize I’m shaking. I settle on the sheets, trembling as tears spring to my eyes and tumble down my cheeks.
“Heidi?” Drew leans over me. “Are you okay?”
I nod, swallowing hard. “Uh-huh.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“No,” I laugh as I cry. “No.”
“Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know! It’s just... happening.”
He lies down and slinks his arm around me.
“I’m all right. I’m all right.” I sniff. “I’m just... going to need a minute. Or two. Or... ten. Ten minutes.”
He kisses my shoulder. “That good, huh?” he asks, smiling.
I playfully slap his arm. “Shut up.”
“I mean, you squirted.”
“Is that what that was?” I cringe. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. That’s like... a dude’s dream,” he says. I laugh and he kisses the edge of my mouth. “Please do that again and again.”
“I’ll try,” I say, limp and weak.
“I’ve never made a girl do that before.”
“Really?” I ask, smiling at the confession.
“Really,” he says, softly whispering in my ear. “You’re the first.”
I settle even heavier against the bed as Drew holds me close. He caresses my back and arm, fingers gliding along my tattoo and entering the ridge between my shoulder blades.
“That feels nice,” I hum.
He kisses my temple. I wipe my cheeks dry, my tears already gone. I feel warm and treasured. Blissful and loved, completely.
I raise a hand and Drew takes it. Our fingers entwine as if they were always meant to. We kiss once, our lips fitting perfectly together like little puzzle pieces.
“You okay now?” he asks, his voice whisper-quiet.
“Yeah,” I answer. “Are you?”
He grins. “Never been better.” He wets his lips, pressing them together as he gazes at me. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
I smile. “You’re the only boy whose ever called me that before.”
“Other boys are stupid,” he says. I laugh. “So very stupid.”
He kisses me and pulls me in until our bodies are flush together again.
A phone vibrates on the bedside table; two light rumbles signaling a text message. We both groan. Who has the audacity to interrupt this moment?
“It’s your phone,” I say, glancing at it.
Drew reaches for it. “It’s Seth,” he reads.
“What’s he want?” I ask.
“We got third door shift at the party this Saturday,” he says, as he taps out a reply. He tosses the phone aside and comes right back to me. “Need to make sure I’m there by nine.”
“You’ll be there long before that, though.”
“Will I?”
I shrug. “Sure. Why not?”
“I just... thought we were hanging out this Saturday.”
“And why would you assume that?” I hint.
Drew nods, taking the bait. “Because it’s your birthday.”
“Yeah, it is!” I grin. “Jenna wanted to take me out, which probably just means the Delta Xi party anyway, so we’ll see you there.”
“We look forward to having you back, Ms. Fujimoto.”
I chuckle with rolling eyes. “Better than Stampy, I guess.”
He rubs our noses together before kissing my forehead.
The phone buzzes again.
We sigh.
“What does he want now?” Drew asks as he grabs the phone. “I’m trying to nail his sister here.”
“Again?” I gasp. “How dare you?”
“You like it,” he teases as he sends a reply.
“You’re right. I’m so dirty.” He sets the phone down again. “What’d he say?”
“Just making me pick a movie for tonight.”
I nod. “You leaving me again?”
Drew exhales softly. “Just for a few more nights,” he says. “At least until the whole I slept with his non-girlfriend thing blows over.”
“He slept with yours, too, right?” I smile. “You’re even.”
“He still seems raw about it.”
“I get it.” I feign a pout. “I can last a few more nights in this big, cold bed all by my lonesome.”
He smiles. “Don’t guilt-trip me. I’m sensitive.”
“Sorry.” I kiss him once. “Then, once that’s blown over...” I bite my cheek, hesitating to breech the subject again. “We should probably tell him about us.”
Drew balances on his elbow. “You’re probably right,” he says, a fresh change from the “soon” response he usually gives.
“Did you want me to tell him?”
“No,” he says. “It should come from me.”
I nod, though I’m not sure I agree. Seth and I are closer now than we’ve ever been. It’s as much my secret as it is Drew’s.
“What?” Drew asks, reading my expression.
“Nothing,” I say. “Just thinking about how nice it would be if I could take you with me to Moira’s for the birthday lunch on Sunday. When my parents ask what I’ve been up to, I could point at you and say, ‘Hey! Look at my pretty boyfriend!’”
Drew smiles. “You know what I think would be an even bigger accomplishment to bring to Mom and Dad?”
“What?”
“An award from the Art Fest tomorrow.”
I cringe. “I walked into that one.”
“The submission deadline isn’t until midnight,” he says. “There’s still time to complete that vision board.”
“Even if I enter, there’s no chance I’ll win anything.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You’re right,” I say. “I can feel it in my bones.”
“Your bones are wrong.”
“No, my bones are cute and not at all scary like a skeleton.”
“Still wrong.”
I exhale hard. “It just doesn’t feel right. And I’m technically a freshman until May when the next Art Fest is, so... I’ve got loads of time to check off my number four.” I scoff. “It’s not like an art prize is going to impress my dad, anyway.”
“I see your point.”
“Besides, there’s no way I was completing that vision board this semester. My car is not getting paid off that quickly, that’s for damn sure.”
Drew cants his head, amused. “You sure about that?”
“Yup.” When he doesn’t reply, I look at his devious eyes. “Drew...”
“Yes?”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.” He smiles. “Nothing at all. I just held onto all the money I got for modeling in your sketch class and I’m giving it to... you.”
I sigh. “Drew, I told you, I’m not accepting donations for my car.”
“A gift is not a donation,” he argues.
“A gift?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you’re gifting me money for my car?”
Drew smiles. “Happy Birthday, Heidi.”
My mouth sags in amusement. “Well, well, well...” I tsk-tsk. “You’ve found yourself a loophole. Very clever.”
“I’m a clever guy.”
“And how much were you paid for each class again?”
“Well, I modeled for... seven classes this semester,” he says, pausing to count. “So, whatever your statement balance is divided by seven is what they paid me.”
I shake my head. “That’s ridiculous.”
“But clever.”
/>
“I can’t accept that.”
“Yes, you can.” He kisses the edge of my mouth. “I insist.”
I turn my head to resist a second kiss, but that doesn’t last long. I submit to his strong finger guiding my chin forward again. He crushes his mouth on mine, coaxing my lips to part and kiss him back.
The front door opens across the house. Shoes stomp on the entryway carpet. The door slams, opens, then slams again.
Drew looks at my door. “Jenna having a bad day?” he asks.
“No.” I chuckle. “That’s just her way of announcing her presence in the house just in case you and I are...”
“Ohhh.” He smiles. “Have we been too loud?”
I hesitate. “Eh...”
“Whoops. My bad,” he says, not really sorry. He kisses me softly before sitting up on the bed and reaching for his pants on the floor. “I should head out, anyway. Seth thinks I’m at a study group right now.”
I snort. “You? Study?”
“Hey, 19th century imperialism ain’t gonna learn itself.”
“Such an elaborate ruse,” I say, impressed.
He pulls up his pants as he rises off the bed. “The things a man’s got to do to secretly date his best friend’s kid sister,” he jokes. He leans forward and kisses me goodbye. “I’ll text you tonight,” he promises.
“I’ll be here,” I say as I heave a sad sigh and sprawl out, “all by myself in this cold, cold bed—”
“Stop it,” he scolds.
I wink.
Chapter 41
Heidi
I stare at the oil painting in front of me. I tilt my head to the side. I squint my eyes.
“Nope,” I say to Jenna. “Still can’t tell what it is.”
Jenna bites her painted lip. “I think it’s a dog.”
“Maybe…”
“Or a duck?”
“What’s the title?” I ask.
We search the table beneath it for the placard.
Jenna reads it aloud. “Electric Ruin?” She scoffs. “Well, that’s no help at all.”
“We must not be smart enough to get it,” I quip.
She pinches her chin, nodding sagely. “Right, right…”
“Great technique, though!”
She gives a serious nod in agreement and we move down the line to the next exhibit.
As I move through this semester’s Art Fest, often shoulder-to-shoulder with bustling art enthusiasts, I feel a little better about skipping out. I don’t think I’m ready to have my work ogled and judged like this just yet. Maybe by next semester, I’ll have some thicker skin.
“Oh, now this,” Jenna says as she waves at what appears to be a sculpture at first glance. “This is art.”
I chortle. “Jenna, that’s a water fountain.”
“Great technique, though!” she jokes.
“If you don’t want to be here, you can go,” I say, smiling. “I really don’t mind.”
“No way! I love this stuff.” She continues forward with me. “Remember the field trip to the Art Center in Des Moines sophomore year? That was fun.”
“You mean the trip where you and Dodger Ryan snuck back on the bus to bang and left me waiting in the courtyard?”
“Yes!” Her smirk fades. “Sorry.”
I grin. “It’s all right. I forgive you.”
“Heidi!”
I spin around at the sound of my name.
“Hey, Professor Wilson!” Jenna and I greet as she wanders toward us.
Wilson pauses in front of us, her grin wide and infectious. “You know, I have to tell you, I was devastated when you said you weren’t entering this year…”
I deflate. “Yeah, I—”
“But I am so glad you changed your mind!”
“I what?”
“I just love your piece and — you didn’t hear this from me — the judges are loving it, too!” she adds with a wink. “We need more artists like you! Ruthless! Fearless! You’ve got a future, kiddo.”
My piece?
I open my mouth to ask, but she hustles off into the crowd, disappearing as quickly as she appeared.
“What piece?” I ask anyone who’s listening. “I didn’t submit anything.”
Jenna smirks at my reaction, her devious eyes pointing toward a table the next row over. “I think she might be talking about that piece over there,” she says.
I follow her gaze, and my blood runs cold. I take wide strides over to the table, my jaw dropping more and more the closer I get.
Several of my drawings lie arranged on a large canvas, grouped together to create a disjointed image of a man. His hands. His body. His face.
His...
“Oh, my god,” I say.
Jenna stands beside me and grins. “Gotta hand it to Drew,” she says. “He’s got a nice pecker.”
My cheeks burn. My heart stops.
“What is this?” I ask, too shocked to think for myself.
“It appears to be your submission to the Art Fest.”
“No. I didn’t do this. I didn’t submit anything.”
“I know,” she says. “You didn’t think you were good enough to compete. So, I did it for you.”
I stare at her, cringing at what feels like a knife twisting in my back. “You did this?” I ask.
She holds up her hands. “Now, before you get mad—”
“You did this?!”
“Yes!” she answers. “You needed a little push, so I gave you a shove. It’s what I do! Happy Birthday, by the way. I got you number four on your vision board. You’re welcome.”
Vision board? I don’t give a fuck about my vision board right now.
I take a deep breath as nausea takes over my stomach. Lines of people pass by, each one staring intently at my drawings.
Staring at Drew.
I read the placard along the bottom.
“The Objectified Man?!” I bark at Jenna.
“I thought it had a nice ring to it,” she muses. “And, from what I hear, the judges agree.”
“I don’t care about the judges! Take this down. Now!”
“Oh, calm down, Heidi. It’s art. It’s beautiful. The people love it.”
“No, Jenna, these are drawings of private moments,” I say, losing my cool. “You didn’t have the right to do this!”
“Art is all about exposing beautiful, private moments to the world,” she argues.
“Maybe it is for you, but not for me.”
Jenna pauses, reacting to the anger in my voice. “I was just trying to help, Heidi.”
“No, you were butting in like always. Maybe you should learn how to mind your own fucking business sometimes.”
She shifts away, genuinely taken back. My gut churns with regret the moment the words leave my mouth, but I’m too upset to say anything else.
“Okay. I guess I will,” she says slowly. “Sorry.”
Jenna turns around and marches off into the crowd. I deflate, my heart pulling in her direction. The damage is done, unfortunately, and I’m not even sure I’d take it back in the first place.
I retrieve my drawings. It’s still early in the show. Hopefully, no one who knows Drew saw this.
Or worse, no one who knows Seth.
Chapter 42
Drew
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out, instantly smiling at the contact photo I chose for Heidi: her at the beach party, laughing in that cute white bikini top and shorts.
I answer it. “Hey, there,” I say into the phone. “How’s the Art Fest?”
“Bad,” is all she says.
I slow my stride. “Okay, what’s up?”
“Before I tell you, I want you to know that I got rid of all the evidence.”
“Is this something we should talk about in person?” I quip.
“No. Maybe. I don’t know. Drew, I’m...”
Her voice falls.
I pause on the sidewalk, shifting to the side to let others pass by. “Heidi, what’s going on?” I a
sk.
She exhales hard. “Jenna went behind my back and submitted some of my sketches. I didn’t know about it until I saw them and by then, who knows how many others did, too.”
I furrow my brow. “Sketches of what?”
“Of... you,” she says. “Sketches of you.”
“You mean, like... the portraits from class?”
“Those. And... some not from class.”
“My hands?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“My chest?”
“Yeah.”
I pause, hesitating on the one drawing left I can think of that would make Heidi this upset.
“My penis?” I ask.
“Yes,” she squeaks.
Uh-oh.
“But, like I said,” she blurts, “I immediately took it down and told the judges the piece was submitted without my consent, so... it’s gone. Forever. And I’m so, so sorry, Drew.”
So, some people saw some... unique drawings of me. What are the odds they can tell it was me, though? Other than, you know... Heidi’s amazing talent as a portrait artist or her signature on every one of them or even the identifiable tattoo on my ribs or...
I shut the thoughts down. No use in falling down that rabbit hole.
“Don’t be sorry,” I say as I decide how I feel about this. “It’s not your fault.”
“I’ve never been so angry at Jenna before in my life,” she says. “I actually shouted at her in front of everyone.”
I pique a brow. “Really?”
“I feel awful.”
“Now, that I’d like to see...”
She sighs. “How are you joking right now?”
“Because...” I bite my lip, finding a little playfulness, “whenever something embarrassing happens, I like to get to that place where I can laugh about it as quickly as possible.”
I hear her smile through the phone. “Really?” she asks.
“Sure, it’s a little... okay, it’s a lot unsettling to know that a random amount of people saw those drawings, but if it happened, it happened, you know? Can’t undo it.”
“Yeah,” she says.
“And you said you pulled it as fast as possible.”
“I fast as I could!”
“And it’s unlikely that someone we know saw them, so...” I shrug a shoulder. “I guess we just have to wait and see if it all blows over. And I think it will.”