by Mj Fields
“Eric,” I gasp as it enters me.
“You’re doing fine, babe. You ready to come?”
“Yes.” I inhale and feel his cock against my entrance.
“Breathe out, babe.” His voice shakes.
As I breathe out, he enters me, cock in pussy, finger in ass. Then he stills. “How do you feel?” “Filthy,” I admit.
“Perfect,” he says, slamming into my pussy fully.
I raise my upturned ass, and he begins fucking me, his cock and finger in sync.
Chapter Ten
Eric
Standing under the shower, washing her body as she washes mine, is a surreal moment. One I’m trying not to overthink, but it feels damn good. Not just the touching—that always feels good—but this connection, the draw, this...need.
As if she senses my mind racing, she pushes up on her tiptoes and runs her nails up the back of my neck lightly until she is caressing my scalp while kissing me.
I’ve showered with women before, but never like this. It was a need to rid my body and theirs of sweat and body fluids. There was no washing each other, no kissing, and definitely not two people drowning in each other’s eyes. And yes, I feel like I’m drowning.
The weekend is coming to an end. She has a thing with Angela tomorrow, and I have a thing with Father. Then it’s back to reality, and the reality is that she’s Autumn of Queens and I’m back to North Carolina.
She practically begged me to fuck her ass, and I used more restraint than I ever have with a woman to tell her not yet. I set her up to wanting more with intent and clear purpose.
So I can see her tomorrow.
“I think it’s clean.” She nips at my nipple as she looks up at me.
“I like it in my hands.”
Releasing her teeth from my flesh, she smiles. “Oh, it’s been on your hands, on your tongue—” “And tomorrow, on the end of my cock.” “Filthy.” She shakes her head.
“Erotic,” I correct.
She buries her head in my chest. “Perfect.”
I tug her long, wet hair back and let the water rinse the conditioner out of it as I look at her face that is now completely makeup free. “You look even better in the raw.”
She leans forward and runs her hand up her face, pushing the water away. “You mentioned that earlier.”
“No, I mean no product; nothing hiding your natural beauty.”
“Makeup enhances—”
“What I’m saying is you’re beyond beautiful without any of that.”
She shakes her head, and I give her hair a tug.
“It’s the truth.”
“Thanks.”
Turning her around, her back to my chest, water running over our soapy bodies, my cock is painfully hard, and I have no plans to entertain its needs.
I want to sleep next to her, smell her, touch her, just be with...her.
Lying in bed, her wet hair is fanned across my chest, arm and leg draped over my body, and I hold her tightly against me.
I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep, because all I keep thinking about is how I judge every person around these parts because they don’t do shit, yet still live lavishly. Right now, I know if my finances were in order, I’d be moving closer to her, to Queens and building on what my mother built from wherever it was so that I could have daily access to this woman as long as I needed it. Maybe just a hot as hell fuck buddy or maybe more. I’m definitely feeling more at the moment.
Yet, as intimate as we’ve been, we haven’t delved into personal information, and that’s more her call than mine.
With her phone on the nightstand and her asleep, I’m ready to cross a line that I wouldn’t want someone to cross with me. But when it lights up, I don’t hesitate. Could be Angela checking in on her. Seems to be something they do and a damn good excuse to see who the fuck Stephen13 is.
I kiss her finger then touch the home button on her phone. As luck would have it, it opens up her digital world. But I’m not interested in crossing all the damn lines. I just want to check out Stephen13.
Stephen13: Nice pussy shot. You’ve lost the weight, huh? When did you start waxing?
- We were together for seventeen years and I never got one of those. What’s up with that, Awes?
- So you snap a pic like that and then don’t even reply?
- I see you’re in the Hamptons. I’m close. We should catch up.
- Might want to reply before I change my mind.
Then there’s a dick pic. And, fuck yes, I look at it.
Mine’s bigger soft.
The boy in me wants to show him. The man in me says let it lie...until another snap pops up.
Stephen13: So, what do you say, Awes?
I hold down the button and video myself.
“She says it looks like a dick, only smaller. She says she’s fucking busy and to leave her alone...tiny.”
I push my leg out from under the blanket, hit the button that flips the camera and, yeah, I show him what a real dick looks like.
“Eric?” she mumbles and begins to lift her head. I hold it against my chest. “Sleep, gorgeous.” “Okay,” she whispers.
I release the video button then send the video snap and a message.
AutumnsSeason: She’s onto bigger and better things. Message her again, and I will find you and kick your fucking ass.
Stephen13: It’s not the size of the bat; it’s the strength of the player.She’ll always think of me when she gets fucked. Always.
AutumnsSeason: Tell yourself whatever you need to, shorty but leave her the fuck alone. You’ve been warned.
I scroll through and block the asshole. Then I unshare her location with everyone besides myself, Ange57, and AandMsmom, because I assume, she’s the A and it’s her mom.
When I set the phone back down on the nightstand, it rings.
Autumn startles. “Is—”
“The ex is calling. I suggest you block him.”
“Mmhmm,” she says, curling up tighter against me.
“Should I?”
“Mmhmm.”
Saying goodbye sucked, but she declined any help or a ride to some cottage with Ang.
When I protested, she said, “Please don’t make this harder.”
I didn’t want to make any damn thing hard for her, except my cock.
I made her promise to contact me when her obligations were fulfilled. Didn’t matter what time it was. I wanted to see her. And before she left, I kissed the hell out of her.
Now, at home, it’s time to face reality.
Walking through the back door and into the kitchen, I see my father pacing back and forth on his phone, sputtering, “I need answers, dammit.” He looks at me then away quickly. “I want answers by Monday morning, or we will look for other publishers!” Then he hangs up the phone and looks at me.
I don’t ask what’s wrong. I already know.
“Your fucking aunt has lost her mind.” He points a finger at me. “She’s fucking things up around here.”
I walk over and pour myself a cup of coffee then sit at the island.
“This is our money she’s messing with!”
“You mean my money?”
He stops pacing and looks at me sternly.
“I tried to book a flight when you called Wednesday. My credit card was declined.” He doesn’t say a thing.
“I looked at my bank account online, and my entire savings is depleted.”
“Things have been tight around here. I am sure when Jean’s will is read that I’ll be able to put it all back. I’ve got it on good authority that I am the front runner for the CEO position.”
I slam my fist on the counter. “I don’t give a fuck about any of that! You stole from me. You used my credit and maxed out my card for what! A goddamned dress for wife number four! Caterers to feed and impress the board members! Matching outfits for tomorrow’s picnic! Paving the fucking yard!”
“Now you listen here—”
“No.” I stand. “You listen
here. This is done! This fucking house was paid for and left to me in my mother’s will. It now has a mortgage! You’ve been having me sign documents, mortgage paperwork, giving you access to accounts, my fucking accounts, making me believe they were for scholarships or college admittance paperwork! You manipulated and lied, stole from your own son, and—”
“That’s enough,” he hisses then looks over his shoulder as if worried someone will hear me.
“You were a kid; she was my damn wife! It was all in our name.” He points to himself then me. “Ours!”
“When I turned eighteen, it became mine. You had thirteen years to get your shit together and stop sucking off my mother’s legacy, and you fucked up.”
“I helped her build—”
“Jesus Christ, Daniel, do I look like an idiot?”
“You look like a twenty-one-year-old college kid who’s never needed a damn thing in his life because I provided it all for you! One time, Eric, one fucking time you can’t catch a first-class flight, and this is how you treat the man who’s given you a golden fucking ticket? The man who paid off Duke to let a half-ass player on a division one team? Do you look like an idiot, Eric? No, you look like a spoiled, little shit who doesn’t appreciate any of the sacrifices I’ve made for you. You look like any other twenty-one-year-old who wishes they were an only child so you could live the life of—”
“Fuck you,” I spit at him.
“Fuck me? Fuck me! Without me, you wouldn’t have shit, but a crazy-ass aunt and an old lady who both make pennies reading cards. Who lives in a shitty little house paid for by money they received from your mother’s will.”
“Without you, I would have had love!”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Love? Fucking love? I’ve been the one to give you siblings. I’ve been the one to give you women in your life to guide you—”
“Those women were never role models, any more than you were. And all I ever was...all I still am is a goddamned go-between so you don’t have to deal with my siblings who could give a fuck less about you. And that, Daniel, is all on you!”
“Get out of my fucking house!”
“You mean my house?”
“You start paying the fucking taxes and all that it takes to maintain this place, and it’s all yours,” he hisses, “son.”
“You’ve made your bed, and I’m about to make you lie in it, Father.”
As I’m walking out the door, his words stop me.
“I expect you to be with us today. This is important for all of us.”
“Kiss my ass.”
As I’m throwing my shit in my duffle, the door to the pool house opens.
“I’m leaving. I have nothing left to say to you.”
“Does this mean I get the pool house?”
I look back and see Shelby in the doorway. “Have at it.”
“Question.”
“Shoot.”
“You really don’t enjoy your time with us?”
Fuck. I sigh as I step away from my bag. “It’s not that I don’t love you, Shells.”
“My mom’s a bitch to you.”
I sit on the bed, trying to decide how the fuck to reply to that. I pat the bed next to me. “Come sit.”
“You sure the big D isn’t going to send security to haul you out?” she asks as she walks over. “I’ll be fine. So will you, Shells.”
I notice her eyes misting over, and it shocks the hell out of me.
“You ever look around and think: what the hell did I do to deserve this life? I mean, it’s not normal.”
She flops back on my bed. “No one gets along. No one even likes each other. Hell, you just said that—”
“I was pissed at him, Shells.”
“If he did all that to you, the golden child, what’s he gonna do to us?”
“I’m not the golden child.”
“Yeah, well, at least you have electricity.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” She sits up. “Forget I said—”
“Oh, hell no. What’s that supposed to mean, Shells?”
“He hasn’t given Mom support in a month. She’s out all the time trying to find a ‘job’ and cries all the time. If it’s really all your money, then what are we gonna do? It’s not like she’s really looking unless it’s in a bar. And she stinks, Eric. She smells like booze and men’s cologne.”
“Then, you stay here.”
“And leave her alone? She can’t even cook. We were getting those weekly boxes and making dinner together. I actually liked learning how to cook together. Now...Now we...” She stops talking as the tears begin to fall. “I can’t leave her alone. And I can’t get a job. We live in a shithole, and now the car’s broke. I walked here, for fuck’s sake.”
“Okay, okay, Shells.” I pull her into a hug for the first time in my life. “I’ll fix it.”
“You shouldn’t have to!”
“As much as a dick as he can be, I know he wants you to have better. Does he know?”
“He won’t return her calls.”
“And yours?”
“I wouldn’t call him if my life depended on it.”
“And why haven’t you called me?”
“I don’t even know my own brother’s phone number.”
She sniffs. “And besides, I’m not your problem.”
“No, Shells, you’re my sister.”
“And I’ve treated you bad, too.”
“Yeah, well, we’re both growing up and seeing things a little differently, aren’t we?” I hug her tighter.
“His new bitch treats me like my mom treated you.”
“I’m sorry, kid.”
“I’m fifteen.”
“You’re still a kid. And you know they say everything happens for a reason.”
“Yeah, well, what’s the reason for all this?”
“Maybe this is teaching us to change the course.”
“Like I have a choice.”
“I’ll get some money together and find a way to help you out.”
“I don’t want money. Anytime I have any, she takes it and goes out.”
“How are you getting money with no job?” I ask. She doesn’t answer.
“Shells, answer me.”
“I sold some stuff at school.”
“What kind of stuff, Shells?”
“Jewelry.”
“Where’d you get the jewelry?” She shrugs.
“Spill it.”
She closes her eyes. “Suzy’s jewelry box.”
“Okay, well, that shit stops.”
“Like I had a choice,” she defends herself.
“You do now. You don’t want money; you and I will go grocery shopping before I leave.”
“Back to Duke?” I nod.
“You’re not a half-ass lacrosse player, Eric.”
“Well, I’m not the best, either.”
“I think you are.” She stands up. “Are you really going to bail on us today?”
I hesitate to answer.
“Please don’t.”
“I’ll go on one condition.”
“What’s that?” she asks, wiping her eyes and further smudging her mascara.
“Take off that shit all over your face.”
Chapter Eleven
Autumn
When I got to the cottage, I was glad that everyone was still asleep. I dragged my suitcases into the suite Angela and I would be sharing and did so quietly. I wasn’t ready to be the Autumn that is expected of me, because I was still reveling in the aftermath of last night...and this morning and was unwilling to face reality.
Never in my life have I felt so comfortable in my own body, a body I had, until lately, considered an enemy, just as much as I considered my heart an antagonist.
The heart part, well, I’d have to handle it with care, but my God, did he know how to make me feel sexy and made my needs as important as his.
In all the years I tried in vain to bring some sort of spark
into the bedroom, I was made to feel deviant and abnormal. These past two nights have opened up doors for me, doors of realization, and excitement that I knew I could never close again.
In my year of self-healing, I had learned that self-confidence is accepting and loving one’s self, flaws and all. It was hard work, a full year of it, and I was making steady progress. The past two nights, I’m sure I made a full recovery because I had never felt sexier than I did when he was rubbing me down, exploring places never explored and, in the aftermath, showering me, washing me, kissing me, and then something unreal happened.
Never in the seventeen years that I was with Stephen could I fall asleep comfortably with him. As soon as I would get comfortable, he would say he was too hot. If I went to bed with wet hair, he would tell me he couldn’t sleep with my head near him.
Back then, I did everything to please him. I went so far as to sleep with my head at the foot of the bed, as to not make him uncomfortable with my wet hair or my excessive movements in my sleep. After all, he needed his eight-hour, uninterrupted sleep, because his career depended on him getting the right amount of sleep, exercise, and proper, well planned meals...that I made.
I close the door quietly behind me then lie on one of the queen-sized beds in the expansive room.
As comfortable as the hotel bed was, this one is far more exquisite. The linens soft and supple; the mattress firm yet pillow-like.
I roll onto my stomach and snuggle into its comfort, wishing Eric, prince of pleasure, was here with me.
“Autumn.”
I hear an unfamiliar voice and jump up. “Oh. Hey, Emilia.” I stretch.
“The car’s here.”
“Holy hell, what time is it?”
“Noon.”
“Is Angela here yet?”
“No. What should we do? We don’t want to be late.”
I reach over and grab my phone, smiling when I see a new snap from Eric. My fingers itch to open it, but the mission is to see when Angela will be here.
I send a text then look up at Emilia, who is obviously in a hurry to get to the de la Porte mansion. “She’ll respond.”