Overexposed

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Overexposed Page 12

by Amelia Oliver


  “Seth…” her face softens, her eyes welling up a little.

  Then just as quickly she stops herself, taking a deep breath before choosing to change her question, “Where’s Piper? I thought I heard her come in?”

  “Gone.”

  There is obviously something in the way I say that one word, as Jackie just looks at me. Really looks at me. It’s the kind of look you get from your Mum. The kind that makes your knackers crawl back inside your body, like they’re trying to hide from her scorn. It’s actually starting to freak me out a little, so I reach across to take the cleaning supplies from her.

  Not breaking her visual assessment of me, she passes them over, a little too bloody willingly if you ask me.

  “I see. This is definitely a mess. You’d better get started then.”

  And with that, she turns and leaves the basement.

  What the bloody fuck was that about? You know, I could really do with one less woman in my life fucking with my head.

  It’s clear to me that the mess Jackie is referring to is not the smashed hooch bottle, but I didn’t tell Piper to leave. She chose to leave. Bossy little thing yelled at me, smashed my smokes, and demanded answers. So fucking riled up, I’d initially thought I could stay shut down and she’d stop picking at the wound. Stupid of me really, I know Piper better than that. So she pushed some more and I’d exploded. But then when I started to tell her about Cluntia, and what she’d said, Piper was the one to shut down. Piper was the one who walked away.

  Why the fuck did she shut down? Did she realise that what I was saying about myself was true? That in her eyes I actually am all those things and that I’m not worth the effort?

  Jesus, is that why she walked away? She gave up?

  As I start to sweep up the glass, including the crushed packet of smokes, doubt starts to niggle at me. I replay over and over the conversation in my head. Not the poison from Claudia - now that the anger has passed I can see right through that shite. But I am still furious with myself that I gave the conniving wench that much power over me. That she’d manipulated me into falling back into old patterns so easily.

  No, it’s only Piper I’m thinking of now.

  I realise that I’d expected her to fight for me, to reassure me that it wasn’t true. I’d needed Piper to tell me that Claudia was talking shit and that she didn’t feel that way about me. Again, I’d needed Piper. I’d made it all about fucking me. Not once did I wonder what Piper had needed from me. What seeing that news alert had done to her? How she’d felt after seeing my latest public tantrum after all she’s done for me?

  Jesus, how the fuck did I let her walk away? What the fuck is wrong with me?

  Throwing the broken glass shards in the trash, I quickly mop up what little is left of the bourbon – thank fuck for cement - knowing exactly what it is I needed to do.

  I needed to fight for Piper.

  Coming up from the basement, I leave the cleaning supplies by the door, and catch a whiff of myself. Jesus, I fucking reek. Bourbon, stale smoke and sweat. I need a shower and then I need a…

  “I’ll be waiting for you in my car. There are still a few paps camped outside, but they wont follow the housekeeper. I’m just the help after all.”

  Jackie is sitting in a chair just off the entryway at the bottom of the stairs. Her purse down by her feet, her phone and keys in her hand, she’s clearly been waiting for me to get my shit together.

  I just look at her, my eyes hopefully conveying just how much she means to me.

  “Is Rash still here? Has he talked to Piper, did they release anything?” Moving again, I’m firing questions at her as I rip my shirt over my head and start to head up the stairs.

  “He’s in the den, but he’s going to leave just before us. The vultures will assume you’re with him. I don’t know anything about a release. That, you’ll have to ask him.”

  “Ok. Can you send him up? I’ll meet you in the garage in fifteen.” Stopping just before I disappear from view I look down at her to add, “And Jacks? Thanks.”

  * * *

  Longest car ride of my fucking life!

  I’ve fiddled and fidgeted with every single button, knob and control available to me on the dash of Jackie’s Range Rover, my body filled with too much nervous energy to stay still.

  As I’d showered, Rash had filled me in from the doorway. He’d agreed with Piper’s advice and approved the decision to go the ‘no comment approach’. Piper had felt that if we were to release a statement acknowledging my outburst, we would actually draw more attention to the incident. Given there’d been no negative publicity on me in months, if we gave the story no additional traction, it would die a quicker death. I trusted Piper’s instincts, so I was comfortable with the tight-lipped approach. Besides, everything I had to say right now was for her ears only.

  The need to see Piper, to touch her, to hold her to me and to smell her skin, was riding me hard. I knew that if I could do that, then we could work through all the other shit. Unless of course she’s done…with me, with everything. But, you know what? Even if she is, she can bloody well tell me to my face.

  I’m prepared to show her that I’ll fight for her, that we are both in this relationship and it’s not all about me. It’s not only about only what I need from her.

  But, I remind myself, I’m also not that far gone in my desire for her that I’d expect her to stay in a relationship she honestly doesn’t want to be in either.

  Finally! Pulling up to Piper’s apartment, I lean over the console, kiss Jackie on the cheek, and am opening my door before the Rover has fully come to a stop. Tearing through the lobby, I press the call button for the elevator by pushing it ten times in quick succession, and am convinced it comes faster because I did.

  Getting off on Piper’s floor, I’ve rapped on her door, but now that I’m waiting for her to open it, the nerves have set in. Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I run my hands through my damp hair with my eyes trained on the door handle. Waiting impatiently for the metallic drag of the security chain to let me know I’m about to see her face.

  By the way the door flings open with anger, I know that Piper has checked the peephole first. She knows it’s me and clearly, only one of us has calmed down. I’m glad in a way – I should be the one to shoulder her anger, to take the brunt of it, to help her work through what she’s feeling. After all, I caused it.

  “Piper, I…” I start to explain why I’m here, but she turns and walks away. Leaving me standing in the hallway, with the door open behind her.

  Right then, it’s going to be like that.

  Coming inside, I lock the door behind me and hearing chopping, make my way towards the kitchen. I stop in the doorway and watch for a few seconds as she chops fruit. The knife hitting the board with force, she’s chopping in a way that would make you think the fruit had it coming. It takes everything I have to keep my hands at my sides and not cover my bollocks.

  Her hair is damp, too, so like me she’s recently showered. Her beach scent mixing with the smell of the melon and pineapple she’s currently slaughtering. Like her Mum, when Piper is at home and not going out again, she likes being in her pajamas. The blue and white set she’s wearing is my favourite. The shorts are a silky fabric that tends to ride up her arse a little, and because she doesn’t wear them with knickers, they generously offer me the occasional glimpses of smooth cheek.

  Neither of us has spoken, and the air in the room is getting really tense. I know that she’s not going to say anything, at least, not until I do first.

  “I fucked up today, Piper. I fucked up in a way that I’m not proud of. Not that I’ve ever been proud of doing shite like this, we both know that, but I just haven’t cared. Now I do care, quite a lot.”

  Still nothing from Piper, but I think the chopping has become a little less Jack the Ripper. I wish she would give me her eyes, but I know she’s going to make me work for them.

  “The thing that I’m least proud of, is not that my shite today
is yet another poor reflection of me, but because my outburst was disrespectful to you.”

  Her knife stops chopping, but she still doesn’t turn around.

  “My lack of control today made it look like I haven’t listened to a word you’ve said, and that everything you’ve done for me wasn’t worth two-bob. In one moment of stupidity, I shat all over what you’ve done for me, Piper, and like a child in a tantrum, I blamed everyone for it but myself.”

  Spinning around, knife in hand and eyes full of fire, her words come out as both an accusation and a challenge. “So, Claudia wasn’t there? You made that up?”

  What the fuck? Why would I make that up?

  My mouth opens to respond, feeling my lips twist with my rising anger, when I stop myself. The last thing I need is for us to get back into another yelling match. Didn’t solve anything in my basement, wont solve anything now. I stare at her, breathing deep, and don’t speak until I know my words will lack heat.

  “No, Piper. Claudia was there. I said she was there, she was there.” Ok, there may have still been a little heat in my response, but fuck. Where did that question come from?

  Pushing ahead, I continue. “Her being there is not my point, Piper. My point is that I know I could’ve chosen not to react to Claudia’s shite the way I did. But, I chose wrong.”

  Something settles like a rock in my belly, and whatever it is, it feels both new and yet familiar somehow. Piper is looking at me like she’s weighing up what I’ve said so far. Her ‘I’m thinking’ habit, where she rubs her thumb over her bottom lip, is in full swing and I don’t know why, but I feel really uneasy. I feel like I’m missing something.

  “Claudia wasn’t mentioned in any of the reports.” Piper states, then turns back to the fruit on the board, separating a chunk of pineapple and resumes chopping.

  Yeah, I’m definitely missing something, but I can’t seem to put the pieces together fast enough to work out what it is.

  “I haven’t read any bloody reports! All I know is, she popped up like the fungus she is and we’d got into it. Sick of her shite, I left the mall and walked right into paps. I don’t know where the fuck Claudia went, nor frankly, do I bloody care.”

  Still, I get nothing from Piper, only more chopping. I can tell by the set of her shoulders and the fact that she’s still not looked me in the eye, that she’s past pissed. I start to get the feeling that maybe coming here was a mistake, and that she’s not ready to talk to me. Christ, I don’t know, should I leave?

  “Have you spoken with Ronald? Do you know the strategy?” she finally speaks, but there’s still something in her voice I can’t put my finger on.

  Not able to stand the distance between us any longer as it’s making my uneasiness worse, I want to move closer to her. But I need to know my touch is still welcome, too. I’m starting to worry that it’s not. I purposely scuff my feet on the floor as I move, my way of letting her know I’m approaching I guess.

  I’ve nearly reached her when she turns and moves away, goes to the sink, and washes her hands. Fuck, because this isn’t awkward at all. I’m now standing in the middle of the floor, like a twat, neither in the doorway nor next to her. Not knowing what else to do, I answer her question.

  “I did, love. Rash told me that official comment, is no comment.”

  “And you’re ok with that?” Piper asks drying her hands with paper towel she’s torn from the ugly as fuck holder her dad had made for her. The base is an old Alabama Smoke ‘45 and the pole is one of his banged up drumsticks. I’d learned that a few years back, instead of spending money on Christmas gifts, her family had decided they’d make them instead. The catch was that they had to repurpose items they already owned. For all their money and all their combined fame, Piper’s family were genuine and real.

  “Yes, of course I’m ok with that. Why the bloody hell wouldn’t I be?”

  Fuck this, I can’t take the sick feeling in my gut anymore, I need to touch her. Taking two large steps towards her, I reach out and pull her hips against me. Her hands fly to my pecs and I prepare myself for her rejection. Thank fuck they stay there, that they don’t dig in to push me back, and I sent up a generic prayer to every sodding deity known to man.

  “Bubble, please, I fucked up. I know I fucked up. But, love, I’m clearly missing something here. Tell me? Please tell me so I can fix it?”

  I watch as several emotions run across her face, but when her mouth buttons into a pout, I know I’m about to get it.

  “I’m sick to fucking death of you not believing in yourself, Seth!”

  Lifting one dainty hand from my chest, she slaps me across the top of my arm before putting it back, then using both to give me a frustrated push.

  Piper, however, is not done. “Jesus fucking Christ! Stop letting other people define you. People, whose opinions by the way you don’t value, and nor does anyone else! God, you frustrate me!”

  Pulling right out of my arms now, she spins around in a short lap of the kitchen, as if she doesn’t know where to go next.

  “Bubble…”

  “No!” She spins to face me again, pointing a finger from her tiny clenched fist at me. “Don’t you dare Bubble me, or try to sweet talk your way out of this, you sexy British bastard! I’m so fucking angry at you…arrggh! Why wont you believe in yourself?! For fucks sake, Seth! Until you do, you giant idiot, no one else will. Don’t you get that?”

  She’s breathing heavy; her anger has turned her skin my favourite shade of pink. The blush of it across the bottom of her throat and along her collarbones is a stark contrast to the soft white tank she’s wearing. She’s so fucking sexy, and the fact that she’s completely clueless of the fact makes her even more desirable.

  “I know, love, I’m… ooofff!”

  I’m cut off when she flies into my arms, throwing herself at me and it’s only my instinctive reaction that has me catching her. Her arms wind around my neck, and her legs clasp together above my hips. My hands slide under the legs of her shorts, firmly grabbing the cheeks of her arse and securing her to me. Both of her hands fist into my hair, and she uses her hold to pull my head back so I’m looking up into her face.

  “Shut the fuck up, Seth. Just… shut. The fuck. Up!”

  Slamming her mouth down on mine, her kiss feels like a punishment, and as such I let her control it, take what she wants. With no finesse whatsoever, it’s a clumsy clash of tongues, lips and teeth, as she lets her anger toward me drive her need.

  Slowly, she seems to get a hold of herself, her kiss becoming more focused while her hips start to grind against my belly. Securing her to me by shifting one arm across the small of her back, I move my other hand away from her arse so I can lift my t-shirt higher up on my chest. My abdomen now bare to her, I’d needed to feel her silk covered pussy against my skin, to feel her feminine warmth as she uses my torso to work herself up. I’m tempted to give her my thumb or fingers, but this is not about me, it’s about her. Besides, the mood she’s in, I get the feeling if she wants them, she’ll ask for them. Well, demand or take. The moment she grinds forward again, the damp crotch of her silky shorts touches my skin and I can’t stop the moan that escapes from my throat. It takes all of my restraint not to take over.

  Piper bites down on my bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth to soothe the sting, before doing the same thing to my top lip. Breathing heavily, she rips her mouth away from mine and buries her face in my neck. Grinding against me, she lets out a few little pants and moans. There is no fucking hotter sound in the world. The seam of her sleep shorts must be caught in the sweet spot between her clit and my stomach, hitting her right where she needs it. I can sense she’s getting frustrated though, that she needs more to actually send her over. Piper starts pushing her hips down, grinding lower against my body, and it’s all the invitation I need. Helping her get what she’s after, I lower her until her spread pussy is grazing the hard ridge of my erect cock.

  “Oh, mmm, oh,” is the only response I get before she takes my mout
h again.

  I’m more than happy to be her scratching post, but if she’ll let me move us, get us into another position, she’ll be able to get much more friction. Taking the chance, I hold her firm to me and take a few steps towards her bedroom. Coming out of her lust haze, she takes her arms from around my neck, pushes against my chest and wiggles out of my hold completely.

  Fuck. I ruined it.

  She’s standing with her front still pressed to mine, both us have our arms at our sides, and her beautiful eyes are locked on my face. So many emotions storming in them, she closes them quickly, and I concentrate on trying to read her. To get some kind of clue as to what she is thinking. I ignore the fact that my cock is pulsing against her, impatient and wanting to be inside her. I can feel pre-cum wet against my cock head, causing the front of my boxers to stick to me, but this is not my show. It’s hers. Piper looks down at the floor between our feet, the top of her head pushing into my chest, and she sighs. I’m doing my best to take my queues from her, but I just don’t know which way this is going to go. Part of me still thinks there’s a possibility she’s about to ask me to leave.

  I’m watching her, lost in my own thoughts when I feel both of her hands slip into both of mine, our fingers joining together. She lifts her head back up, and I notice that her eyes are still closed. Raising herself up on her toes, she talks right into my mouth.

  “I need you to fuck me, Seth. Just fuck all of these thoughts out of my head. Please?”

  A part of me wants to ask her what the thoughts are, while the coward in me tells me to keep my mouth shut. I’m always ready to fuck Piper, that’s never an issue, but I’m not going to now unless I know she’s present, know she’s in it with me. I need her looking at me, and up until now, she hasn’t. I want to be sure it’s me who’s fucking her, and I’m not just a hard cock to get her off.

  My thoughts from earlier in my basement return, when I was evaluating what it is I bring to this relationship. Then, so does the night we fucked in my kitchen, and I’m not going back to having sex with emotional distance.

 

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