Shake, Rattle and Roll: The Baxter Boys #4 (The Baxter Boys ~ Rattled)

by Charles, Jane

  Surely he isn’t done. I would have noticed wouldn’t I?

  He’s still watching. His jaw tight, eyes even darker than before, and he starts to move again. Then he lets my hips rest against the bed again and comes over me, supporting himself with his arms, never breaking eye contact and he starts to move again. I tilt to bring him deeper and deeper.

  How is it possible that another orgasm is building? This time, he increases the rhythm and just when I’m there, he throws his head back and groans, his release hitting just as my third one does.

  Panting, he finally relaxes, but rests on his forearms, his head against my shoulder.

  If this keeps up, I’ll need two weeks to recover before I see him again.

  18

  We haven’t been asleep that long because it’s still light out. Bethany’s leg and arm are over me like it was the last time I woke. I could lay here all afternoon, evening and night. Except, the afternoon is pretty much gone and it’s almost dinner time. I’m starting to get a little hungry and probably because of the earlier activity. And, I did promise her dinner.

  I don’t want to get dressed and go out any more than she does. Maybe delivery? But from where.

  Carefully I slide out from under her and get dressed before heading downstairs. After opening a few drawers in the kitchen, I come up empty. We keep our carryout and delivery menus in a drawer in our kitchen and I assumed everyone did.

  She may have them somewhere, but I’m not comfortable enough to go snooping around her place. It just isn’t right. So, instead, I open the fridge. There is still a pot of Burgoo, which is awesome, but that isn’t me really buying her dinner, or even cooking it.

  What would the other guys do?

  Dylan would cook a fantastic meal, something I couldn’t even begin to do.

  But, he’d know a good restaurant. I pull my phone from my pocket and shoot him a text.

  Me: What is a good delivery place in Bushwick

  Dylan: Why?

  Me: Promised Bethany dinner

  Dylan: What does she like

  I stop and think. I have no clue.

  Me: Don’t know

  Dylan: Try asking. I can almost hear his frustrated tone.

  Me: Can’t. She’s asleep

  Zach: Wear her out?

  Shit. I thought it was just Dylan and not a group text.

  Me: Any ideas, DYLAN?

  Dylan: Does she like Chinese?

  Me: No clue.

  Zach: She’s asleep, remember? Christian wore her out.

  Ryan: Good for you

  Sean: About time you got a girl in your life

  Christian: I don’t see you with one

  Sean: I’m picky

  Christian: Me too

  Zach: I’m not

  Ryan: Yes you are

  Alex: We are all picky. I just got the best one

  Dylan: Don’t think so. I do

  Me: Um, I think it might be me

  Nobody types anything and I know they are probably processing my statement.

  I can’t believe I typed that. Alex’s relationship with Kelsey moved quickly, but not this quick and the same could be said for Mary and Dylan. But, I need to know what they felt in their gut. How soon they felt something besides arousal. That, I am not about to ask in a group text. It’s too personal, even for these guys.

  Alex: So soon?

  Me: How long did you need?

  Alex: Depends on what I was thinking with

  Just as I thought. The cock is usually the first thing to respond. I really don’t think this is just about desire. At least I hope it’s not.

  Zach: A dick just needs a few hours, the heart a few days, the head, well weeks

  Zach: Actually, a dick needs like a minute

  Me: Look at you being all philosophical and shit

  Zach: I have deep moments

  I can’t help but snort. Zach is all talk, especially when it comes to sex, but he’s just as picky as the rest of us and I can’t remember the last time anyone caught his interest long enough to buy them a drink, let alone go home with. All of the guys are like that and it does take a special girl to break down those protective walls we’ve all built. There’s been enough pain in the past that none of us willingly open ourselves up for more unless it’s worth it. I glance up to the loft. I can’t really see Bethany from here, which means she’s still asleep.

  She’s the first girl I’ve actually let in. I’ve dated and even had girlfriends that lasted a few months, but I told Bethany more last night than they ever learned collectively.

  It’s my gut telling me that this is good and that I can trust her. And, I’ve always trusted my gut long before my heart, head or dick, and it’s never been wrong.

  Dylan: Mary says Bethany likes Chinese.

  Then he types in an address and phone number.

  Dylan: I’ve wanted to try this place. Let me know how it is and if it’s worth the time

  Me: Will do!

  Me: Any allergies Mary knows about?

  Dylan: Just bees.

  Me: Honey a problem?

  Dylan: Bee stings. I’ve been corrected

  Me: I won’t order any bees

  I stretch and open my eyes, but I’m completely alone in my bed. I’ve slept alone my entire life, but I really liked waking up with Christian earlier.

  Where is he? I crawl to the end of the bed and look down into the loft but can’t see him.

  Maybe he’s in the bathroom.

  I can’t help it, but while I get dressed, there’s a little panic. Did he leave? Did he have enough? Did I bore him too much with the quilting?

  He’s gone. I know he is. The place is too quiet.

  Making my way down the stairs I look everywhere for a sign that he is here. Even his shoes are gone.

  He’s gone and didn’t even say goodbye.

  Was I that wrong about him?

  He said he wanted to see me when he came back. Was that a lie to have sex with me again? Was I so bad he didn’t want to wait to wake me up before he high-tailed it out of here?

  “Well, fuck!”

  It’s a good thing that I didn’t fall for him because this would hurt more than it does.

  Except, I was already falling for him.

  This is what I get for letting things move too fast and not playing it smart.

  At least I got good sex out of it even if he didn’t.

  Walking to the fridge I open it and take out a bottle of wine, then open the freezer and get a pint of ice cream. A girl’s two best friends at a time like this.

  My heart skips, however, when someone turns the handle on the front door to my apartment.

  I rush forward and set the chain just in time to stop the person from opening the door further.

  “Bethany?”

  I peek through the peep hole. It’s Christian and I let out a sigh. Closing the door, I unhook the chain and open the door.

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  He’s standing there with about three paper sacks in his arms, and my keychain dangling from his fingertips. The scent of Chinese hits me and my stomach grumbles.

  “Of course not. I thought you left.”

  He frowns and comes inside. “I wouldn’t leave without telling you.”

  “But you did,” I point out and realize it came off as a pouting controlling girlfriend.

  He sets the sacks on the counter then spots the ice cream and wine before looking at me. There’s hurt in the dark depths. “Did you really think I’d just leave like that?”

  Now I feel like shit. “Foggy brain. I woke up, kind of sleep drugged.” I try to dismiss. “You weren’t here and I decided I bored you and suck in bed and you left.” My God, when did I turn so pathetic and could I just stop my mouth from talking?

  He shakes his head, but I don’t know if it’s because he’s disappointed in me, but the corner of his mouth twitches.

  Damn, I hate being this insecure. It’s something I recognize in myself, but don’t real
ly want anyone else to know, but now I’ve put it out there for Christian. He’s going to really think I’m a total loser after this.

  He turns and puts his hands on my hips and pulls me close.

  “I get that this is new. I’m figuring stuff out too, but I would never walk out without saying goodbye or giving you a reason.” Then he kisses me. The most sweet and gentle kiss a girl could get. “And, you don’t suck in bed. Far from it.”

  Thank God. But I don’t say that out loud.

  He then kisses the dip of my nose and goes to the other side of the island and grabs the ice cream. “You don’t need this either.” He opens the freezer and puts it back. “I know enough about girls to know that you were getting ready to sink deep.”

  “I over-reacted and I’m pretty sure you think I’m being silly right now.”

  Christian looks at me thoughtfully. “Not really. If it was my place and I thought you left, I’d probably be sinking into a pint of ice cream with a beer chaser too.”

  That is probably the sweetest thing he could say to me, though I doubt it’s what he would do.

  “Hope you’re hungry.”

  He tears open the sacks and starts taking out white Chinese food containers. There is enough there to feed a dozen people. “What all did you get?”

  “A little of everything. I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

  “Actually, there is very little I don’t like,” I admit as I grab plates.

  “Good. Eat up. You’re going to need your energy.” He winks at me.

  At least I know I don’t suck and I hope I get a chance to not suck again since he’ll be gone this time tomorrow.

  19

  The alarm buzzes and Bethany reaches out and hits the snooze before rolling away and turning it off. She set it so we’d both wake up in time. Her to get to school and me to head home to get ready to leave on tour. I’ve been awake for hours though. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to walk out that door and the magic of being with Bethany be broken. What if when I come back it isn’t the same? What if she reconsiders all of this and doesn’t want to see me again?

  Bethany isn’t the only one who has a bit of insecurity when it comes to us. I barely know her. We’ve talked a lot, but how well do you really know a person until you’ve spent hours, days, weeks and months with them. There is so much I don’t know, but I’m not ready to stop learning and I hope she isn’t either.

  She rolls back into me and snuggles. “I hate Monday mornings,” she grumbles.

  “Me too.” I smooth her hair and caress her back. This is it. My last moments with Bethany and I’m going to make them matter. Pulling her close, I bend and press my lips against hers. There is no rush, not overwhelming passion, just the need to convey what I feel. I can’t define it, or I’m not ready to, but the need is there not just to fuck, but to make love to her. When I leave, she’s going to know how precious I think she is and hopefully, she’ll hold on to that while I’m gone.

  She’s in no rush either. We kiss and caress, not in a hurry to bring this to an end, but it doesn’t last. As it always is, soon, I’m on fire and reach for the last condom on the stand. This time she takes it from me and rolls it on, I watch, seeing her delicate hands that create such beautiful quilts, on my hard cock and sheathing it like a pro.

  I can’t help but wonder how many times she’s demonstrated this for classes or at health fairs because I know she’s not been around the real thing in a really long time, not until she met me.

  Satisfied that it’s secure, she leans down and kisses me. I start to roll so I can cover her, but Bethany pushes against my chest, until I’m on my back, then she mounts me, slowly taking me into her body. Her eyes, locked on mine as mine were locked on hers yesterday. Her tight walls envelope me and I clench my jaw to keep in control. This will not be rushed and I need it to last.

  Bethany sets a slow rhythm as I caress her breasts. She’s no more hurried than I am.

  But, neither one of us can stay this way indefinitely, and her tempo increases and I realize when she’s hit he point of no return. Her breath hitches, eyes nearly glaze over before she’s spasming around my cock with enough force that I’m right there with her. My toes curl and hips arch as a blinding release hits me.

  Bethany collapses onto my chest and once again I smooth her long, auburn hair and run my hands up and down her back.

  “I’m going to miss you,” I whisper.

  “Me too.”

  She stiffens and sits up. “Something isn’t right.”

  It felt right to me.

  An instant later she’s off of me and looking at my cock.

  How the hell didn’t I feel that?

  The damn condom broke.

  Her blue eyes grow wide as she looks at me. “I put it on right, didn’t I?”

  “Yes,” I quickly reassure her.

  “Crap!” she runs her fingers through her hair. “Did you know that the percentage of a condom breaking, with perfect use, is only like 5%?”

  I sit up and grab her hand. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

  If I didn’t know better I’d think she was about to have an anxiety attack and I’ve seen my share of them.

  “I don’t have anything,” Bethany quickly assures me.

  Is that what she’s worried about? “I’m good too.”

  With that she blows out a breath. “Good.”

  That shouldn’t be her only concern, but do I mention it?

  I have to mention it. “What about the pill and the antibiotics.”

  Her eyes go wide again. “Shit!”

  Not exactly the words I want to hear since all I’ve ever wanted was kids of my own—a family of my own, but the timing does suck.

  She grabs the quilt and wraps it around her as she heads down the stairs. Then she gets a compact thing that I recognize as her prescription for the pill from the cupboard above the sink. She has other medicines in there too. Then she opens it and counts. Her shoulders drop and she blows out a sigh. “It should be good.”

  “Should be?” I should be as panicked as her, but I’m not.

  Then she gives a quick nod after counting again. “It’s good.”

  I don’t let her know that a small part, very small is a little disappointed. Then again, if it wasn’t good, would she be rushing out the door to get one of those drugs that you take within like 24 hours of unprotected sex to make sure it is good for certain?

  I’m not sure I want to know the answer or how I’d feel about it.

  It’s way, way, way too soon to be thinking about babies, but it’s also something I really want. Someone of my blood, and I wouldn’t want her to erase the possibility of me getting just that, no matter how inconvenient it might be right now.

  Of course, it wouldn’t be up to me, but her. Her body and it isn’t like we’ve been dating for months. In her shoes, I’d probably be rushing to the closest pharmacy.

  She puts her pills away and comes back upstairs. “Well, that was a very pleasant way to wake up, and the other, well, that scare was stronger than a blast of my morning coffee.”

  Bethany is a lot more relieved than I am, but that’s okay because I get it. Way too soon for us to be even thinking about babies, let alone making them and until I know if she is a forever girl, I don’t want to make any babies with her, even if it meant I’d finally have something that shares my blood in my life.

  Since Christian left and I headed to the subway, I keep counting pills, weeks and days in my head. I should start in a week. I have five of the regular pills and then I start on the placebos before starting a new prescription, which means I should get my period at the beginning of spring break. Great!

  I should be good, but do I risk it? Maybe I should stop by the clinic for an emergency pill just to make sure. If it was a week earlier, right in the middle of my cycle, I probably would go, but it’s late and I should be good.

  Should be, that’s the operative word, but do I trust it or weigh on the side of caution.


  At least Christian didn’t freak. In fact, he was a hell of a lot calmer than I was. Isn’t it the guy who usually wigs out at a time like that, especially after he knew about the antibiotics and the pill? Was he just trusting me when I said it was good? What if it isn’t? Will he freak out then or lose trust in me?

  Oh there are so many ways this could go wrong.

  I should just get a morning after pill to be safe.

  Except I already have hormones from the pill in my system. Do I want to add more and really throw off my period? The only reason I stayed on the pill after Kelly and I broke up was because I liked having normal, regular periods. Not the kind that I used to have that were never even close to regular, and when it did show up, put me in bed with cramps for a day.

  What I’ll do is ask one of the doctors once I get to the hospital, a gynecologist, if I can get up to the labor and delivery floor. There were a few that seemed nice and might answer the question for me. Or, I could go to the clinic. We have doctors there that counsel girls on this very thing. They should know.

  Taking a deep breath, I push my worry aside and step into the classroom set up at the hospital. Mary waves me over and I take the empty seat next to hers. “So, is Christian back at the brownstone packing for his tour, or is he tied to your bed?” Mary asks in a whisper as soon as I sit down.

  “Packing, I assume.” Though I wish he were still in my bed and waiting for me to get back.

  “Well?” she prods.

  “Well, what?”

  “Are you going to see each other again or was this just a wild weekend thing?”

  “Wild weekend thing?” I laugh.

  “Right! Never mind.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “In the three years I’ve known you, you’ve yet to take a guy back to your place, let alone see them in a setting no more private than a coffee shop. Wild doesn’t exactly describe you.”

  She does have me there and I shrug. “True.”

  “So, are you seeing him again?

  “He wants to when he gets back.”

  A grin breaks out. “I knew it!”