Cream carpeted floors and beautiful upholstered furniture fill the space. We walk through and towards the front door where there’s a large open space, and on the other side I see another room with dark wood furniture that might be an office, while beside it is a dining room. Joey begins for the staircase between them and I follow, noticing how quiet the house is, how comfortable and homey it feels. As we walk up the stairs, my eyes land on photos in frames lining the wall. All of Joey’s class photos are there, and some of people I assume are his parents.
His dad’s big and burly and wearing a leather jacket in most, his mom has a kind face and warm smile, with laughing brown eyes. His build is like his dad’s but his face is just like his mom’s. I hurry to catch up to him as he makes a left in the hallway and past a closed door before stopping at another, opening it and entering. I follow and look at the room I presume is his, it smells like him and instantly I relax.
There’s a Go Army poster on the wall, and the wallpaper is baseball themed. A twin bed takes up one corner, with a wooden headboard and messy plaid sheets on the mattress. He sets my stuff on the floor near the closet and I look around the room, a clean stack of folded shirts sit on his dresser, along with a baseball, a lamp, and a stick of deodorant.
“I like your room,” I tell him.
He shrugs and looks around the room. “Thank you.”
“Where are your parents?” I ask.
“My mom’s working today, and Dad’s at the clubhouse.”
I nod, remembering he told me his mom works part-time at a hair salon, while his dad doesn’t work but belongs to a biker club. The idea frightened me when he told me that, my imagination ran wild thinking of what kind of guy he might be. Only knowing the stereotype of bikers to be rough and mean, but Joey assured me he’s nice and not to worry. It blew my mind that his parents didn’t care that I stay over for six days and I wondered if he did this often. I hinted to it a few days ago and he assured me that his parents weren’t as strict, but there was still a feeling of worry inside me that he was lying about it and they would be upset.
“What do you want to do?” he asks.
“Um.” My eyes darting around, because I know what I want to do, but don’t know how to initiate it.
“Do you know what I want to do?” he interjects.
I nod, and he steps closer. I inhale as he stands directly in front of me, his hand lifting to pull my ponytail holder out, and sending my hair tumbling down my back. His fingers lace through the tendrils, cupping the back of my head.
“I want to kiss you for hours,” he whispers against my lips.
The hairs on my arms and back of my neck rise, I want to do that too and he magically can read my mind. He sits on the bed and so do I, feeling unsure of how to do this, lay down? Sit? Straddle him? My body wants to be as close to him as possible, so I opt for the latter. As he leans over to open the window beside the bed, allowing the warm room to cool with the breeze, I throw a leg over his waist which surprises him. He looks up at me with wide eyes, but then they drop to my lips as his hands spread over my thighs and he leans back into the pillows, my body following as I initiate the kissing.
I explore his mouth and his tongue, being bolder than I have before. I don’t know if it’s because we’re alone, that no one can interrupt us, that has me out of my head and focusing on sensation. His hands press my hips down as he pushes his up against me, and there’s the hard press of him between my legs that I’ve felt before. But this is different, the pressure, the press of it against the seam of my jeans and the thick strip of material rubbing over me has me whimpering and wanting more and harder. He groans and looks down at me gyrating against him.
“Damn,” he mumbles, grabbing the side of my face hard and pulling me to his lips again.
His lips feverish against mine, and I push my hips faster, feeling something build inside me, craving for more. A moan comes from my throat as my body jerks and bolts of elation fill my veins, my crotch pulsing just as Joey leans over, his head falling forward as he too groans. I can feel liquid on my pants and wonder if it’s from me, but look down to see a dark stain spreading over the legs of his jeans. We’re both panting and my limbs feel tingly and warm, between my legs still thrumming. Joey raises his head and looks into my eyes, there’s something there that I haven’t seen before, wonderment.
“Damn,” he repeats and runs his fingertips over my cheeks and hairline.
“What was that?” I ask.
His eyes grow warm as he says. “We both just orgasmed.”
I’ve read about that, but had no idea what it was, or how it really happened. I can’t explain what came over me, what I feel like now. I’ve crossed some imaginary line into womanhood, something I didn’t get from my first period. It’s unexplainable and maturing.
“I need to change my pants,” he says, looking down.
“Not yet,” I whisper and he looks back up. “I want to do that again.”
He smiles and chuckles and kisses me playfully, rolling me onto my back as he moves on top of me.
We spend hours like this, kissing, making each other come, just to start over again.
“You’re so beautiful,” he tells me after I’ve just orgasmed and my body still jerks in his arms with small tremors as I come down.
For the first time, I really do feel beautiful. The way he looks at me and the way he tells me this, I can see in his eyes he means it. We both hear a car pull up in the driveway through the open window and Joey looks towards it.
“My mom’s home, do you want to go meet her or stay up here a while longer?” he asks with hope in his eyes that I’ll opt for the second option.
“We should probably take a break; my jeans are starting to get uncomfortable.”
He looks down between us. “We did get pretty messy, huh?”
“I like it,” I reply.
The side door opens and he gives me a quick kiss before getting up, reaching out to help me sit up. He walks over to his dresser and opens the top drawer, pulling out a pair of plaid boxer shorts and jeans from the drawer beneath it. Then he leans down and grabs my suitcase, setting it on the bed beside me.
“I’ll go change in the bathroom, give you privacy,” he tells me.
I nod, because even though we’ve just dry humped and got intimate, I’m still not ready to change in front of him. The fact that he understands me and where I am in my head, makes my heart fluttery. With one more quick kiss, he exits the room, closing the door behind him. I open my suitcase and grab a pair of underwear and my other pair of jeans I packed.
Standing, I undo the button of my pants and slip them down my thighs, the dampness leaving a trail on my legs as I remove them. But it’s then I feel how wet my panties are, looking down to see the purple cotton darker there. There’s a musky smell and I know I need to clean up in the bathroom, just then there’s a tap at the door.
“I’m going downstairs, so the bathroom’s open,” Joey tells me.
“Okay, thank you.”
I wait until I hear him go down the steps, gathering my change of clothes in my arms as I sneak across the hallway to the bathroom. I turn the water on at the sink of the large bathroom, painted a tranquil blue, while everything else is white. I grab some toilet paper because I don’t want to soil a wash cloth and wet it. Removing my wet panties, I then clean up my legs and the damp curls between my legs. When I feel sufficiently fresh, I dress and wash my hands, tossing the soiled paper into the trash.
Making my way down the steps, I hear Joey and a female voice coming from the kitchen, so I walk towards it, nerves making my fingers fidget together in front of me. When I turn and enter, Joey’s leaning over the counter while his mom moves around opening mail. Walking up beside Joey, they both look at me and he stands, putting his arm around my shoulders.
“Mom,” he begins.
“Katie, it’s nice to meet you,” she smiles interrupting his introduction, and I sense a faint southern accent when she speaks.
“Hi Mrs. Pedersen, it’s nice to meet you,” I smile.
“Please, call me Gwen,” she says, lifting a hand.
“Thank you for letting me stay,” I say, testing the waters to see if Joey even asked.
“Of course,” she says with a shake of her head and turns to open the fridge door. “Joey says you like pasta.”
I look at Joey and back to her as she pulls a package of ground beef out.
“I do,” I agree.
Then I notice her take a package of noodles out from a cabinet, and set it with two jars of sauce already sitting on the counter.
“Oh, you don’t have to-” I begin to protest.
“It’s not homemade, but we aim to please here,” she says.
I look at Joey and feel the sweetness of his gesture, and the feeling of being put on the spot for dinner. This is so foreign, I’m used to being a wallflower, ignored. Not catered to or treated like my opinion means anything. Joey lifts his hand and rests it on my shoulder and I inhale deeply as his palm lands on a welt.
“Your dad’s gonna be home shortly, Cubby, how about you guys go work on your car and Katie and I make dinner?” Gwen says, looking between the two of us.
“Sounds good,” I say and can’t believe it’s already time for dinner, and that Joey and I had been messing around for hours.
Almost on cue, a bike engine filters through the open windows.
“You sure that’s cool?” Joey says in my ear as his mom washes her hands at the sink.
“Yes,” I tell him and look up with a smile, running our noses together in the process.
“Don’t feel like you have to,” he adds.
“I don’t.”
“Hey babe,” I hear Joey’s dad as he enters the side door and comes up the steps and into view. He leans over and gives Gwen a kiss on the lips, and I marvel at seeing parents do such a thing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my parents share anything other than a drink.
“Babe, this is Katie, Joey’s friend…she’s staying a few days, remember?” Gwen says.
The burly man is rocking a ZZ Top-like beard, a bandana on his head, a leather vest, and chains hanging down from his belt.
“Yeah,” he says in a low voice, walking over and reaching a hand out. “Joseph Senior.”
I shake his hand and I’m surprised how lightly he takes my hand into his rough palm.
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“You too,” he replies. “Don’t know what a lovely lady like yourself sees in our behemoth of a son here-”
“Hey,” Joey cuts in, and both his parents laugh.
It’s so strange to be around a family who laughs together. In this fraction of time that I’ve seen them interact, I know they love each other and have a great relationship. It makes me happy that Joey’s happy and lives in a good home.
“Ready to start on the Cadillac, Cubby?” his dad asks.
“Yup,” Joey replies.
He gives me a kiss on my temple and follows his dad out the side door. I move around the breakfast bar over toward Gwen.
“You want to cook the noodles or the beef?” she asks.
“I’ll do the noodles.”
She fills a massive steel pot with water from the tap, setting it on the stove and adding some salt to the water before flipping the burner on.
“Salt?” I question.
“So the noodles don’t stick,” she replies.
“Oh, good tip,” I nod and grab the pasta boxes, opening them as she hands me a wood spoon.
“Do you like to cook?” she asks as she grabs a saucepan from the cabinet with a clatter as it bangs into other pots.
“Yeah,” I shrug, I wouldn’t say I like it but since I need to eat and my mom’s diet consists of liquor, someone has to cook.
I watch as she sets the meat in the pan and she breaks it up with a fork.
“You have a lovely home,” I comment.
“Oh thank you, I do love this house…it was Joseph’s parents, and then when they moved into assisted apartments, we were able to buy it.”
We chit chat as we cook and I can hear tools whirling and clanking from outside.
“Have you met Joey’s friends?” she asks.
“Yeah, uh Dornan and Maven,” I reply.
“Maven’s such a sweetheart, and Dornan and Joey share the same brain, I swear. They all grew up together, it makes me happy that they’re still friends,” Gwen tells me.
“I didn’t get to talk to them too much, but they seem cool.”
“We’re going to the clubhouse tomorrow for a pool tournament, I don’t know if that’s something you guys wanna do-”
“Joey didn’t mention it,” I say with hesitation because honestly, going to the clubhouse kind of scares me.
“It’s women and children invited so things won’t be too scary, I know I was terrified the first time I went, not knowing what I was going to see…but it’s pretty tame, for the most part.”
It’s so odd that Joey and his mom seem to read my mind, unless my feelings are written all over my face.
“How did you meet Joseph?” I ask, dumping the noodles in the boiling water.
I watch Gwen look up and a small smile curl her lips. “I was eighteen, and I was visiting a friend here, I’m originally from Alabama. We went to a malt shop one evening and there was a group of greasers being loud and obnoxious,” she says with a little laugh. “Me and my friend were good girls, squares they called us back then. Anyway, I remember watching the group of guys and I saw the most beautiful guy I’d ever seen, our eyes locked and we just stared at each other. My friend and I got up to leave, and he followed us out, stopping me to talk…and the rest is history,” she smiles wider.
“Wow,” I sigh with a smile, and it reminds me of when I first saw her son at the party.
“I swear it was destiny when we met, opposites, I never would’ve met him if I hadn’t visited my friend, and we never would’ve gone to the malt shop if her mom hadn’t been the worst cook ever,” she laughs.
Destiny, like Joey said the night we met. I get chill bumps at how similar things transpired for the both of us.
“Oh, and Missy, my friend I visited…that’s Dornan’s mom,” she adds.
“Oh cool, and how did you meet? Living in different states?” I ask.
“We met at fat camp,” she tells me and then we both laugh.
When we sit down for dinner after both Joey and his dad clean up, and it already feels so natural for me to be here. He sits down beside me and looks over the spread on the table, including salad and garlic bread I made.
“Looks good, beautiful,” he says softly and leans in to kiss just beside my lips.
He has me sighing, and imagining a life like this with him. Him working and me cooking us dinner. Not that I want to be a housewife so to speak. But to have a family and a routine together, it’s just a nice thought.
“Everything looks great,” Joseph says and Gwen smiles.
We dig in and the meal is filled with stories and laughter, his parents are funny and his dad is a great story teller. I get lost in his words as he talks about people I don’t know, but feel right there with him as he talks.
“That’s not the way Owen tells it,” Joey interjects with a teasing smile.
“Owen can’t even remember his own birthday, don’t listen to him.”
The three of them laugh and Joey leans over to say, “Owen is Maven’s dad.”
I nod.
“You guys coming to the tournament tomorrow?” Joseph asks.
“If Katie wants to,” Joey shrugs.
“I don’t know how to play pool,” I state.
“You don’t have to, the guys play pool and we just hang out and gossip,” Gwen tells me.
“Okay, yeah let’s go,” I say looking over at Joey.
I can see something in his eyes, like he’s pleased I want to go. From our conversations over the last few weeks, I know the club is important to him, like a second home. And I’m excited to put f
aces to all the people he talks about. We finish dinner, and I’m about to help Gwen clean, when Joey and his dad begin cleaning the kitchen. This causes me to pause and take in what’s happening, them cleaning pots and plates and I honestly can’t believe it.
“Tea, babe?” Joseph asks and Gwen nods, and he flips on the burner with the tea kettle sitting there.
“You want tea?” she asks me.
“No, I think I might take a shower,” I announce.
“I put toiletries in the bathroom for you, feel free to use anything, that’s what they’re there for, towels are in the closet in the bathroom and a new toothbrush in the holder,” she says.
Joey gives me a smile over his shoulder and I turn to head upstairs. I grab some sleep pants and a large T-shirt from my suitcase, and enter the bathroom. Grabbing two fluffy grey towels from the closet, before turning on the shower water. As the water heats up, I see shampoo and body wash, the good stuff. There’s manly stuff which I assume is Joey’s, along with the girly kind. This feels like a life of luxury, and I can honestly say I’ve never used anything so nice in the shower.
I strip off my clothes and notice a full-length mirror on the back of the door, turning my naked bottom and looking over my shoulder. I know my backs a disaster, that’s nothing new. But I really want to take inventory on the back of my legs. It’s been a few weeks since the last time my dad hit me there, and I don’t see any marks left. I packed some shorts, and I’m relieved to know I can wear some this week since the temperature is rising.
Getting into the shower, the expensive showerhead allows the water to come out like rain, and it feels decadent. Popping the top of the shampoo open, I inhale the fruity scent and squeeze a large amount into my palm, lathering it in my hair and rinsing. The conditioner is the same kind, and feels thick and luxurious. There are two options for body wash, and I smell both, before opting for a lavender lemon scent. It suds into large bubbles and feels amazing as I wash my body, I then notice a light purple razor and see it’s never been used before. I take the plastic cap off and lather the soap on my legs and arm pits, shaving them clean. I then soap between my legs and shave my bikini line.
After I dry off, I see lotion that corresponds with the wash I use, and rub it into my skin. Brushing my long hair out, I leave it down instead of putting it up like I usually do. After dressing, I grab my dirty clothes and bundle them in my arms, exiting and heading to Joey’s room. The lamp on his dresser is casting the room in a soft warm glow. He’s there, pulling a shirt down over his torso, and I see his hairs also wet.
Take On Me: Plantain Series Book Three Page 4