PosterBoyForAverage

by Sommer Marsden

  “There,” Mike said, pressing back against her. She could feel the heat of his bare chest and the smell of sunscreen grew thicker around her. “Now I can get closer.”

  He cupped her face in his palms and paid close attention to her mouth. Stroking his tongue over hers, licking softly along her lower lip and then nibbling so she felt the rush of excitement low in her belly. The rush of it quickly spread to her pussy and Aubrey knew if he so much as suggested sex, she’d be in. One hundred and ten percent. It had been quite a while since she’d gotten laid and there was no doubt in her lust-scrambled mind that Mike Sykes would be very good at it. And very generous to his partner.

  She sucked in air like she was drowning and his big hand splayed along her rib cage. The heat of his touch seeped into her skin and then he was pushing his fingers up beneath her shirt and the direct contact was surprising.

  A rush of fluid escaped her and puddled in the crotch of her jeans. If they got that far there’d be no playing it cool. She’d never be able to hide how much she wanted him if he saw that. And somehow the knowledge that she would be so easy to discover made her urgent lust a million times better.

  Mike swept his hand higher, pushing her top up as he went. When he reached her bra, her body trembled. She shook beneath his hands though she was desperately trying to still herself.

  “Are you okay?” he asked conversationally as he pulled her bra cup down and exposed her right breast. His lips captured the already taut bit of flesh and he sucked.

  More fluid, more heat, more need. A shuddering sigh slipped free of her even as she tried to convince him she was fine. “I’m perfect,” she said.

  He bared her other breast, raked his teeth along her skin. Her whole body responded with bright pleasure. Before she could stop herself she sighed, “Yes.”

  He chuckled, bit her so she jumped, licked the skin he’d just savaged. “Yes, I agree. You’re perfect, you know.” His hands curled against her waist and he held her firmly there so he could kiss her again.

  She parted her lips, met every thrust of his tongue with one of her own. But when he stepped even closer, pinning her to the wall with his body, she sank into the kiss. Fell backward into it. Submitted.

  “I’m going to touch you now, Aubrey. Is that okay? I want to make up for that kiss where I hurt your feelings.”

  “You didn’t hurt my—”

  “I did so and that wasn’t my intention.” His fingers dipped below the waistband of her jeans and she remembered she was bare beneath. No knickers to speak of.

  His fingers swept back and forth as he nibbled down her neck. When he found nothing beneath he straightened, looked her in the eye. His gaze was predatory and she had a flash of “who’s afraid of the big bad wolf”.

  “Bare under there,” he breathed. It was not a question.

  “I was in a hurry.”

  “I’m not.”

  His fingers drove lower and she shut her eyes, willing him with her amazing mental powers—at least the ones she wished she had—to take her jeans off. To fuck her right here, right now, up against the half-done basement wall.

  He reared back to look at where his hands were on her and Aubrey had a perfect mental image of him doing the same thing while he was fucking her. Watching where his cock would slide easily into her body. Watching where they were joined.

  Another sigh slipped out of her and he popped her button, drew down her zipper, pushed her jeans down on her hips.

  Her top was hiked up, her jeans shoved down and he was studying her like she was art.

  “Wow,” Mike said, tracing the curve of her waist with his hand. The sensation made her jump as if he’d tickled her. “I imagined you to be amazing. But you are…amazing.”

  She bit her lip, shook her head. “Stop teasing me.”

  “Oh Aubrey, sweetheart, I am not teasing you at all,” he said. “Yet.” And then he dropped to his knees.

  Her legs felt very uncertain when he did that. Aubrey imagined them buckling, dropping her forward onto him in a heap in her unkempt basement. Instead she pressed her palms flat to the wall as Mike kissed her hipbone. He dragged his lips slowly along the small swell of her belly, grazed his teeth across the opposite hipbone. He gripped her hips in his big, strong hands and kissed the side of her thigh, the top of her thigh. Everywhere but the sweet spot.

  “Mike—” she gasped.

  He looked up at her, those water-blue eyes honest and penetrating. His gaze was exciting but humbling too. So much emotion wrapped up into one glance. “Yes?”

  “I…you don’t have to do this,” she said. That was stupid. Why the fuck had she said that?

  He laughed harshly and pressed his forehead to her belly. His breath snaked down, hot and humid, over her smooth mound. She was still bare-shaven for summer. Bathing-suit grooming was a bitch. So she usually just went bald.

  Mike swept his thumbs back and forth along her skin and every stroke brought electric tingles to her skin.

  “Is that what you think? That this is penance? For what I did?”

  She had no idea what to say. Her mind had drawn a blank and her body seemed to vibrate with nothing but want and need. “I just wanted you to know that…” Aubrey shook her head. “That I’m insane?”

  They both laughed at that and she became supremely aware of his breath again. Stroking over her skin, invading the air around her pussy so that all she could imagine—all that she could comprehend—in that moment was him putting his mouth on her.

  “So are you averse to this?” he asked. Mike wasn’t looking at her now. He was using his thumbs to pull back on her labia. To spread her and look at her and there was that humid tactile sweep of his breath over her wetness again.

  “No,” she breathed. “No, not—fuck no—” She gasped.

  As soon as she’d said no the tip of his tongue had touched her. Pressing wetly to her thumping clitoris so that her hips arched up and her fingers sought purchase on the smooth dusty wall. Aubrey cried out, trying desperately for some odd reason to recall the last time she’d had sex. The last time a man’s mouth had been on her and brought her to orga—

  The thought dissolved when he sucked her in, flicked her clit with his tongue and then drew a long, sweet rush of orgasm from her as if by magic.

  Apparently it had been longer than she’d thought. Or he was just better than she’d anticipated.

  “Fuck,” she said, more to herself than to him.

  “Actually, I’d like that again before we go any further.”

  This time he covered her completely with his mouth. His tongue dove between her wet folds, found the hard knot of her clit, nibbled, licked, flicked and then went back to drawing on her again with his whole mouth.

  “I’m…” Aubrey gripped his shoulders in her hands, leaned forward a little. His tongue—wet, rigid and strong—slipped along her wet slit and entered her. “I’m coming,” she said. It was an unnecessary statement, she realized, seeing as she was shivering in his arms as she came. Something buzzed and she jumped.

  “God damn it,” he hissed, putting his head against her as she caught her breath.

  Aubrey slipped her fingers through his thick hair, stroking him even as the buzzing happened again.

  Mike fumbled his phone from his pocket, read the text, stood. “I have to go,” he said, tucking her hair behind her ears and kissing her.

  “But I—what—”

  That was as far as she got. She grabbed for her jeans and wrestled them up, suddenly feeling very much more naked than naked. He kissed her again, growling low in his throat. But there was a sound of pain in there too. A sound of distress.

  She grabbed his face and continued the kiss where he’d left off. “What is it?”

  He shook the phone at her, trying to smile, but failing miserably. “This is why I said we were a bad idea. So don’t let those feelings of yours get hurt. Okay? It’s not you, Aubrey. Never you.” He brushed his lips over hers once more and she smelled her own scent on his mouth.
She opened for his tongue and kissed him back.

  “Jesus,” Mike said, pulling back. “Never you.”

  Then he hurried off and left her standing there in her dusty basement, feeling very confused and more than a little turned-on.

  “Well, damn,” Aubrey whispered to no one. “That was interesting.”

  Chapter Nine

  She’d managed to take a shower, finish a book cover, send it off to the editor of said book and then make a few phone calls. Her mind kept returning to Mike and what he’d said without really saying anything at all.

  “This is why I said we were a bad idea,” he’d said. But he’d never said what this was. She tried to not speculate but it was impossible.

  “Maybe it was a roofing emergency,” she said, trying to joke. She didn’t even laugh at her own joke.

  Bruce sat up straight, ears perked, tongue out, body on alert. It always freaked her out when he did that. “What?” she hissed.

  His tail thumped once, twice, three times and then he was off like a shot. She was close on his tail. Before she even called out to him, the doorbell rang.

  He only did that—the non-barking thing—when the person at the door was someone he knew. Aubrey’s heart sped up and she had a fleeting moment of hope where she let herself wish upon a distant unseen star that the person at the door was Mike. That he’d come in to finish what they’d started. She’d allowed herself to daydream him there in her basement, lifting her leg, fingering her wetness, slipping inside her. Fucking her there against the wall in the chaos that was currently her basement.

  But it would not seem like chaos with him there. With him inside her. Amazing, she realized, how quickly he’d come to take up space inside her head. How fast he’d become part of her normal backdrop of life.

  She didn’t even look, just flung the door open. So there was no schooling her face when the person who waited for her was Bradlee. Waving a DVD case at her.

  “I’m bored as shit. Wanna watch a movie?” Her sister brushed past her. “I know. I know that it’s supposed to be work time for you. And you’re your own boss. And that we all need to realize that you actually do work for yourself. Trust me. We all have gotten that lecture.”

  “Bradlee—”

  “But just this once? Just once. Watch…” She turned the DVD case to face her. “Watch The Lost Woman with me!”

  She looked desperate.

  “What the hell is going on?” Aubrey asked and let her in. “Why are you so needy?”

  “I did not realize with my husband away and my daughter on a playdate that I would be so bloody fucking bored. She’s not getting dropped off until nine.”

  “I think bloody and fucking are basically the same thing,” Aubrey said.

  Bradlee waved the case at her. “Whatever. Hurry. Is there wine?”

  “There can be.”

  Bradlee followed her into the kitchen and Aubrey wondered if her sister would notice.

  “You took a shower,” her sister said.

  Aubrey stayed with her back to her sister, pouring wine. If Bradlee could see her face, all bets would be off. “I do it damn near every day.”

  “I thought you took a shower earlier.”

  “I did. That was the shower you’re talking about.” Lies. Damn it, damn it, damn it.

  Bradlee lifted a hunk of Aubrey’s hair. Her wet, wet hair. “Um…no. Your hair should be at least half-dry. So why—” Then she gasped and yanked on Aubrey’s hair hard enough for her head to snap back.

  “Ow! Jesus Christ, Brad!”

  “Sorry, sorry,” Bradlee said, smoothing Aubrey’s hair and trying not to laugh. “You little hussy! What have you been doing that you’d need another shower?”

  “Nothing,” Aubrey put the wine cork back in the bottle. “I just got dirty.”

  “I bet you did!” Now Bradlee was snorting. That was never good.

  “In the garden,” Aubrey snapped.

  Her sister moved fast, put herself in front of Aubrey. “Ah-ha!” she said, pointing maniacally.

  “Ah-ha what?” Aubrey asked, biting the inside of her lip. Trying very hard to keep her face neutral. She reached past Bradlee and put the wine in the door of the fridge.

  “You had monkey sex!”

  “I did not.” Okay, so that was the truth.

  Bradlee stepped back, tapped her lip. “Okay, maybe not. Not sex. Um…you did something though. You have roses in your cheeks, as Nana used to say. And you look like you have a big fat secret that pleases you. You definitely messed around.”

  Aubrey chewed the inside of her cheek.

  “With Mike Sykes the super-duper roofer.” Bradlee punched her in the shoulder.

  “Jesus Christ, Brad! I’m going to sock you one,” Aubrey growled. But then she found herself laughing. “It was not sex.” She handed her sister a glass. “Come on. Let’s sit on the porch. I’ll ’fess up. Plus anything will beat watching that god-awful movie you brought.”

  She confessed it all. How her feelings had really been hurt. How she’d tried to hide it. Rubbing his chest and smelling him and being close and that other kiss. And then, fuck it all to hell, when he got on his knees and went down on her.

  A rush of heat spread through her from her breasts to the crown of her head. She wouldn’t be surprised if she burst into flames any second now.

  “Goooood Lord,” Bradlee sang, fanning herself even though the October wind was blowing. “That is a mighty fine story. Could I just admit I cannot wait for Timothy to get home?”

  “Speaking of home,” Bradlee went on, “I’ll have to get going soon. Laura will be dropped off in about a half-hour. And you would not believe how friggin’ punctual the Sandfords are. I imagine them all synching their digital watches before leaving the house. They’re like a crack burglary team or something.” She snorted and set her glass on the small wooden table. She stretched her long legs and settled her ankles on the front porch railing. “I imagine the dad’s pep talks—‘right team! Let’s get in and get out! No muss! No fuss!’”

  “You sound like a drill sergeant,” Aubrey laughed.

  “Not quite that bad. He’s very organized, but not strict. Like I said, they are super-nice and Laura has a ball with them. But I feel very, um…”

  “Like a hot mess?”

  Bradlee leveled a finger at her. “Watch it, sister,” she said, but she was grinning. “I feel very disorganized when they’re around. And now…” She stood and smoothed her long corduroy skirt down. “I will arrive at my home to take possession of my daughter smelling like wine.”

  “A single glass,” Aubrey laughed. She looked at her watch. “Over a two-hour span.”

  “Are you going to watch that movie?” Bradlee said. She was biting the inside of her cheek and trying to look sincere. Aubrey could tell.

  “Good God no.”

  “I’ll come get it then before I hit the road.”

  Inside, she hugged Aubrey. “Give him a chance. He’s a dad of two kids, one with lots of needs, he’s a roofer, he’s recently divorced and he’s your next-door neighbor.”

  “So—”

  “So all signs point to ‘run!’” Bradlee piped in. “But there’s something about him. And you. When you’re near each other. It might as well have been spray-painted across your foreheads the other night. You seem to drift toward each other like magnets.”

  “Some magnets repel one another,” Aubrey said.

  Bradlee smacked her lightly on the forehead.

  “Ow!” Aubrey cried.

  “Not those magnets, Aub. The ones that draw each other close. Stop being such a pain in the ass.”

  With that, she took her horrible movie and left. Aubrey considered working some, then decided not to. She ended up curled in her overstuffed chair with a good murder mystery and a cooking show on TV. The life of a single woman. All she needed was a cat. Then Bruce found her and made himself at home in the crook of her legs.

  “Right. Scratch the cat.”

  * * * * *<
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  She didn’t see Mike for two days. She spent the second driving to the offices of one of the publishers she dealt with. She’d pitch some new cover ideas to them for a few of the books they were planning to release. If they didn’t take any of her ideas, they’d move on to the next indie or go in-house. Publishing was a changing business. Some days the tide was in, some days the tide was out. Which was one of the reasons Aubrey worked with a lot of smaller indie publishers. Indies were more open to other indies.

  It was a three-and-a-half-hour drive to the city and she had a lot of time to relive their time in the basement. She also had a lot of time to wonder where he’d been.

  A text came through from Bradlee just as she reached the offices of Checkered Horse Books. It only said CALL ME, so she switched off the phone and figured she’d call her later.

  She gave the receptionist her name but she’d no sooner sat with her portfolio—she still liked to bring full-sized shots with her, not just digital examples—then Gail Franken was waving her in.

  “I’ve been waiting to see you. How was your terribly hard summer? Living with the ordeal of shooting pictures of gorgeous men?” She waved a coffee cup at Aubrey and Aubrey nodded.

  “Yes, please. Two sugars, no cream. And to answer your question it was terribly hard.” Then she laughed. “Living by the lake, soaking in the sun and photographing buff men is a hard way to make a living, but I soldier on.”

  Gail handed her the mug and sat. “But you went because of a breakup, right? Did the men of the lake help you get over it?”

  “Yes and yes.” Aubrey took a tentative sip of coffee. Too hot just yet. She set it down. “But not the way you mean. It was a nice getaway and I got to shoot a lot more than just men. But I didn’t…dally with any of them.” She snorted.

  “Ah, dally. Such a refined word.” Gail sat back, putting her feet on her overcrowded desk. “Were you disappointed?”

  “No.” It was the truth.

  “Seeing anyone now?” Gail waved a wedding set at Aubrey. “Forgive me my nosiness. We old married types often live vicariously through you fascinating singles.”