Rite Of Passage

by Infante Bosco, Janine

  “I don’t need a break from my daughter,” I spat.

  “Let me ask you this, when school lets out what are your plans for Ashlynn?”

  Shit.

  “I’m going to assume you’ll be busy with work which leaves Ashlynn either at camp or with this sitter, Ally. If she comes back to Texas with me, I’ll plan some day trips and get her some horseback riding lessons. She’ll have the best summer, I swear.”

  Sighing, I tear my eyes away from my mother. She’s right, I’ve got shit planned for Ashlynn this summer. I’m not even sure I can swing camp. She’ll likely spend most of the time with Ally and aside from taking her to the beach occasionally, she’ll have a very uneventful summer.

  “I know,” my mother continues. “We’ll have a test run.”

  My gaze snaps back to her and I swear the woman’s lost her mind. Either that or I’ve got alcohol poisoning.

  “Tomorrow I have to meet with Pastor Godfrey to finalize everything for the service, but after that I’m free. Why don’t you leave Ashlynn with me and go out for a drink or something? You used to like to shoot pool and there’s this place Elizabeth is always raving about down on Main Street.”

  “Let me get this straight. You want me to go shoot pool the night before we bury dad.”

  “You make it sound so insensitive. I’m not suggesting you knock off a liquor store on the way there.”

  “Now, that sounds likes fun,” I mutter.

  Knowing it's unlikely my mother is going to let this crazy notion of hers go, I shrug my shoulders.

  “I’ll think about it,” I reply. Defeated, I rub my hands over my face. “If we’re done with this shit, I’m turning in. You should get some rest too. It’s gotta be exhausting sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  “You know I have a bucket list.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Do you want to know what’s on the top of that list?”

  “You’re only going to tell me anyway,” I say as I start for the stairs.

  “Before I die, I’d like for my son to respect me,” she reveals, walking towards the kitchen. As I reach the steps, she pauses in front of the doorway and turns to look at me over her shoulder.

  “Maybe even love me.”

  Her words shouldn’t affect me.

  I’m the one that felt unloved.

  I’m the one who was made to feel like a disappointment.

  Yet, as she disappears into the kitchen, I’m the one who feels all the guilt.

  Chapter Seven

  T he next morning my mother met with the pastor to finalize the details surrounding the service honoring my father’s life. I offered to go with her—after all, isn’t that why I’m here? She declined my offer, though, and went with Shelia and Larry, leaving me and Ashlynn alone. My mother’s words kept playing over in my head and after breakfast I decided to take Ashlynn out for the day. I loaded us up in my father’s old pick-up truck and took her into town. I showed her some of the sights, making a pit-stop at the old garage I worked at when I was sixteen. She loved hearing about my life as a kid which was surprising to me and when I revealed my old man used to take me down to Miller’s stables when I was a kid so I could learn how to ride, her eyes lit up with excitement.

  I asked her if she wanted to swing by the stables on our way home and I swear to God, my little girl never smiled so wide. Realizing how rare it was for me to be the cause of her happiness, I immediately wanted to keep that smile on her pretty face. Once we arrived at the stables, I asked her if she wanted to ride one of the horses. Naturally, she jumped at the chance. For the first time in a long time, I felt like a dad. My mother made some valid points where Ashlynn was concerned but I don’t think sending her here for the summer is the answer. I think she just needs her dad’s attention. As soon as we get back to New York, I’m going to make changes. There’s a riding academy in Jamaica Bay. I’m going to look in to getting Ashlynn lessons. Maybe I’ll even make some of those gymnastics meets of hers.

  “She had quite the day, didn’t she?” my mother questions from the doorway. Tearing my eyes away from Ashlynn’s sleeping form, I look back at her.

  “She had a blast,” I reply, pushing off the side of the bed. Crossing the room, I flick on the night light and exit the room with my mother. Quietly we make our way into the living room.

  “Everything all squared away for tomorrow?” I ask, trying to fill the awkward silence.

  “Yes,” she replies, cocking her head to the side.

  “What’s that look for?” I question suspiciously as she diverts her eyes to her freshly manicured nails.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she murmurs innocently. I don’t buy her act and I watch as she nervously taps her foot. Her eyes flit to the watch on her wrist and when the house phone rings, she jumps. Quick on my feet, I beat her to the punch and answer the phone.

  “Hello?” I say, keeping my eyes on my mother. She looks away, brushing an imaginary piece of lint from her shirt.

  “Oh, Ryan, thank God,” Sheila cries. “I’m so sorry to bother you, especially with the funeral tomorrow, but I’m in a pickle.”

  “You don’t say,” I mutter, snarling at my mother.

  “Elizabeth went over to Bill’s Tavern and she accidentally took my keys with her. I don’t have a spare set and I’m going to need them in the morning to get to the church.”

  “So call her and tell her to bring them back to you.”

  “Well, I did that,” she starts, pausing for a beat. “But judging by the way her words were slurring, my lovely daughter appears to be three sheets to the wind.”

  “Alright, well I’m sure she won’t lose them or anything, just get them from her when she gets home.”

  “Well, yes, I suppose I could do that but she doesn’t live here anymore and I’m not about to trek over to her apartment. What if she decides not to come home or worse, she goes home, and I walk in on her and a gentleman?”

  Sure I heard her wrong, I look to my mother who decides to slink away. I grab her wrist, holding her in place and narrow my eyes. She and Shelia are up to something, that much is obvious but I’m not sure I give a fuck. I’m more interested in Bess and the idea of her bringing home someone from the bar.

  “You saying Bess makes a habit of not coming home?”

  “Ryan, you’ve been living up North for how long now? Things may move a bit slower down here, but I don’t have to tell you what happens when there’s alcohol involved. I may be old but I’m not dead. My Elizabeth is a beautiful woman, I’m sure there are plenty of men vying for her attention as we speak—”

  “You can stop anytime,” I growl. “Where the fuck is Bill’s Tavern?”

  “Oh, I’ll give you directions,” my mother pipes up.

  “Thank you, Ryan,” Shelia adds. “If you think she’s had too much to drink don’t hesitate to throw her over your shoulder either. She can get a little wild.”

  Oh, I won’t hesitate to throw her over my shoulder that’s for damn sure.

  I’m also not so sure I won’t throw her down on the flatbed of my old man’s truck and suck the fucking wild right out of her.

  Great, now I’m fucking hard.

  Slamming down the phone, I glare at my mother.

  “I don’t know what you two are up to…”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she argues, feigning innocence.

  “Right,” I mutter, releasing her wrist. “Where the fuck is this place?”

  “Language,” she scolds.

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “A woman prefers a gentleman, Ryan. Ask Elizabeth when you pick her up, I’m sure she’ll agree.”

  Oh, I’ll ask her alright.

  When I’m between her fucking legs.

  Chapter Eight

  B ess stuck out like a sore thumb in Bill’s Tavern and not because she had those fancy fucking clothes on either. Dressed in a denim skirt, a simple tank top and worn cowbo
y boots, she looked every bit like the girl I fucking remembered. Gorgeous and just as forbidden as she was when we were kids and she was my best friend. Back then, I gave a fuck. Now, not so much.

  Keeping my eyes trained on the wild mane of dark curls, I make my way through the honky tonk bar. I watch as she downs a shot and slams the empty glass on top of the wooden bar before throwing her hands over her head and shimmying in her stool to the beat of the country tune playing on the jukebox. I don’t have to look around at every man to know they’re all staring at her, praying to whatever God they believe in that they’ll be the lucky bastard who gets to take her home tonight.

  But that fucking honor is all mine.

  Pushing some fucktard out of my way, I make my way towards Bess. Continuing to sway to the beat of the music, she closes her eyes, allowing me the opportunity to creep up behind her. Bending my head, I breathe in her scent and my dick twitches. I’m so fucked, and I don’t even give a shit. I may never get another chance and I’ve got no room for any more regrets.

  All I got is here and now.

  One night.

  One girl.

  One chance to get her out of my system.

  “There’s the girl I remember,” I murmur against her ear.

  Startled, her eyes spring open, and she jumps in her seat. I quickly react, grabbing her hips to keep her in place.

  “Easy,” I say as my fingers flex against the waistband of her skirt. Her hands move to cover mine and she tries to shoo me away, but I tighten my hold. She turns her head to glance over her shoulder at me. Ignoring her perplexed stare, I focus on the bartender.

  “Two of whatever she’s having and a couple of shots of bourbon,” I tell him before finally meeting her gaze.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  I eye the empty shot glass for a split second before trailing my eyes over her body.

  “Looks like I’m catching up.”

  “You’re not supposed to be here.”

  “Says who?”

  “Me,” she replies, pushing my hands away. A frown ticks the corner of my lips at the loss of feeling her against me. “Go away, Ryan. You’re killing my buzz,” she complains as I settle into the stool next to her.

  “How much have you had?” I question, motioning to the empty glass in front of her.

  “What business is it of yours?” she fires back as the bartender slides our drinks in front of us. “The last time I checked you made it perfectly clear you had no interest in what I did,” she hisses, reaching for her shot glass. My hand closes over hers and my eyes narrow on hers.

  “Just trying to figure out how much I need to consume for us to be playing on even ground.”

  “Ha,” she scoffs. “And why is that?”

  “Well, the way I see it…if we’re equally fucked up then we can chalk what happens next to being drunk,” I explain as I remove my hand from hers. Swiping her shot right in front of her eyes, I knock it back with ease. Her lips part in shock as I go for mine. That one goes down a little harder. The third sets my throat ablaze but by the fourth I’m immune to it. I set the empty glass on the bar and look at Bess, watching as she cocks an eyebrow.

  “What happens next?” she croaks.

  Inching closer, I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear as I blatantly stare at her lips.

  “You can start by telling me why you’re so bitter towards me or we can fast forward through all the bullshit, go back to who we used to be and enjoy the little time we have together.”

  “Those are my only two options?”

  “You want a third?”

  She diverts her eyes away from me and grabs the beer. Bringing the neck to her lips, she takes a long sip and I watch her neck as she swallows. The urge to drag my lips down that slender column pulls at me and my dick grows against the zipper of my jeans. Pressing the heel of my hand against the fucking bulge in my pants.

  “All I’m saying is those are pretty limited options,” she says evenly.

  “Option three, we get the fuck out of here and do exactly what we should’ve done years ago.”

  “Dare I ask?”

  “You’re pissed I left without a goodbye. Now, I’m here and you don’t know how to feel. We’re different people than we used to be. You’re some hot shot in fancy clothes and I’m a single dad with a rap sheet. But I look at you and all I see is my Bess. Scratch that, I see the girl who used to be my best friend and a shit ton of regrets.”

  I point a finger at her as I lift my beer to my lips.

  “And you look at me and see the boy who used to sneak into your room at night to watch old movies. The guy who gave you your first kiss and taught you how to do that trick with your tongue…”

  My words trail as her cheeks flush. Hiding my smirk, I guzzle the beer.

  Dragging the bottle away from my lips, I lean closer.

  “Let’s get out of here, Bess. I got a few more tricks I want to teach you,” I say huskily.

  “I bet you do,” she mumbles as she picks the label from the beer bottle she’s clutching. “Thing is, I don’t need anyone to teach me anything, Ryan. I do just fine.”

  “Show me,” I dare.

  Never one to pass on an opportunity to prove me wrong, I watch as her eyes finally meet mine and they flicker with determination.

  “Think you can handle it…” her words trail as she flicks her finger against my kutte. “…Needles?”

  I don’t say a word. Instead, I stand to my full height, reach into my back pocket and pull out more than enough bills to cover our drinks. She finishes off her beer before sliding off her stool.

  “One night,” she says.

  “I leave after the funeral. You’ll never see me again.”

  “Good, I got used to living without you.”

  For some reason that stings. Brushing it off, I tag her hand and pull her body flush against mine.

  “You live close or should we go to a motel?”

  “You fuck me, you fuck me in my bed,” she whispers, tilting her head back. “Then you leave. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  She takes my hand and drags me out of the bar. I don’t ask her how she got to the bar, nor do I mention her mother’s keys. I just lead her towards my old man’s truck. I help her into the truck and draw the seatbelt over her body. Clicking it into place, I touch my forehead to hers. Her hand slides up to my face, and she draws in a deep breath.

  “This is such a bad idea,” she murmurs.

  “It would be if I was staying,” I reply before brushing my lips across hers. A whimper sounds from the back of her throat and it causes me to press my mouth harder against hers. She’s more responsive than she was when she was just a curious teenager and a hell of a lot more experienced. The latter sparks an unfamiliar feeling, one I can’t quite name and before I realize it, my lips are bruising hers, demanding entry into her sweet mouth.

  Matching my desperation, she parts her lips. My tongue invades her mouth, flicking hers, tasting and teasing with every stroke. She rolls her tongue, perfecting a technique I taught her and it’s my turn to groan as I thread my fingers through her hair. Holding the back of her head, I bite, suck and lick until we’re both panting and she’s twisting my t-shirt in her fingers.

  “Tell me you live close to here or you’re crawling into the backseat.”

  “Five minutes away,” she pants.

  It takes every bit of self-control to peel myself away from her. Closing the passenger door, I round the front of the truck and quickly slip in behind the wheel. Unable to keep my hands to myself, I reach over and touch her knee. A moan flies past her lips as my fingers gently work their way up her thigh, under her skirt.

  “Make a left here,” she breathes.

  Snatching my hand back, I do as I’m told. My patience teeters and I speed down the road until a row of houses appears.

  “I’m the third one on the right. You can park in the driveway,” she instructs, undoing her seatbelt. Before I can kill the eng
ine, Bess is out of the car. I follow her towards the door and hand her the keys. While she works on unlocking the door, I let my hands travel down her sides. Dipping my head, I press my lips against her shoulder, dragging the strap of her tank top away with my teeth.

  She opens the door and spins around, grabbing me by the back of the neck and pulls me inside. I barely get the door shut before she’s tugging my shirt over my head. I want to slow down and savor the moment but the need to see her naked overrules everything. Soon, we’re pulling our clothes off and kicking off our boots. Somehow, we make it to her bedroom. She reaches behind her and unclasps her bra as I drag my boxers down my legs.

  “Fuck,” I growl, taking in her tiny breasts and taut nipples.

  Just enough for my mouth.

  Closing the distance between us, I push her back. There is no gentleness and there sure as fuck ain’t no sign of a gentleman. All there is a carnal need vibrating through me. Her back hits the sheets and her legs fall open. A thin scrap of lace covers her bare pussy and my cock grows even harder as I stare at the wet spot staining the tiny piece of fabric.

  “Well, are you going to stare at me or fuck me?”

  “Both,” I admit, lifting my gaze to hers.

  Touching my knees to the mattress, I place my hands on her knees and spread her legs even wider.

  “How attached to these panties are you?” I ask, sliding a finger under the lace. Her breath hitches as my fingers glide up the seam of her pussy.

  “I’m not attached to them at all,” she pants, reaching for me. “Not even a little bit.”

  “Good,” I growl, removing my finger from between the slick lips of her cunt. With both hands, I pull on the elastic string digging into her hips until it tears apart. “These are garbage now,” I add, pushing the ruined panties out of my way. “You on the pill?” I ask, fisting my cock. The head brushes her opening and I hang my head in agony. The need to be inside her is dire.

  “Yes,” she says. “Are you clean?”

  “I wouldn’t attempt this with you if I wasn’t.”

  Ever since Tori I make sure I wrap my cock, but I also get tested regularly. I don’t reveal either of those things to the woman panting and writhing beneath me, though. Instead, I bend my head and take her nipple between my teeth. She inhales sharply and clutches my shoulders. Her fingers bite into my flesh and I love every fucking bit of pain she entices.