by C. Lymari
“You made it! Finally, a house full of girls,” she screeched happily.
Jess wasn’t wrong; we were overdressed. Clark was in jeans and a simple T-shirt. Blake, for some insane reason, was in a kangaroo onesie. As for Jake, well, he was wearing gray sweatpants—you know, the ones that made the bulge in their pants more noticeable. Look at me, here’s my cock. I snapped my eyes back to Jake’s, and he was smirking at me. I felt myself get red.
“I’m going to kill you,” Jess whispered before she took a seat next to Clark.
“Hey, Jessica,” Blake teased Jess.
Mrs. Carson pulled out a chair so that Rosie could sit with Jake and I at the head.
I looked around and noticed Mrs. Carson pulling another chair out to sit next to her husband. So not how we had dinner at my house.
“Her name is Jessamine.”
“Rosie!” Jess exclaimed.
Blake leaned back grinning. “Huh, I thought everyone called you Jess for Jessica. You have a girly name.”
Said girl with girly name glared at me.
“Here, let me help you.” Jake took my coat and Rosie’s while I sat her down.
“You guys didn’t need to dress up on our accounts,” Clark mused.
“I think they look lovely.” Mrs. Carson smiled at us while she put scoops of ice cream on the table. “Sorry, girls. The boys like to wear their fat pants.”
When the last of the ice cream was put down, everyone looked at the food. It was a lot. I had no idea people made Thanksgiving a whole-day event, not caring about Thanksgiving décor, what plates to put out, or which utensils to use. Who was to sit where. Mom and Dad always at the head of the table. You know, just in case you forgot they ran the show.
“Would you guys like to say grace?” Mr. Carson asked.
I’m sure I mirrored Jess’s horrified expression.
“Jessamine would love it.” Blake gave his father a smile that didn’t have a hint of innocence.
I leaned into Jake’s ear. “She’s going to kill me.”
He smiled at me, his fresh-linen smell and minty breath warming something in me that I didn’t realize was cold.
Two little hands grabbed my cheeks. Both Jake and I looked down at Rosie, who was underneath us. She was smiling, all too happy to be in the little cocoon Jake and I provided. I’d never had a moment where I knew everything was perfect before, and I wished I could have framed it. Not even on my wedding day did I feel this way. But the three of us smiling at Jess’s glare was something I wanted to remember forever.
23
Jake
“Dear God,” Jess started, then stopped to look at my family. “I’m an atheist, so this is for you guys… Thanks for not letting us die yet… I lost count after the fifth end of the world, so I have no idea where we are at the moment. Thanks for the food, especially the ice cream. I’m sure the Native Americans weren’t as happy as we are today, and yeah… Happy Black Friday… Amen.”
I looked at my brothers and my parents, then back at Jess, and I started to laugh. Couldn’t say I’d ever heard a grace like that, but it was Jess—not like I expected something more graceful and holier.
“You’re onto something, kid. I swear half the town leaves to go deal hunting,” Clark said as he started filling his plate.
It didn’t take long for mindless chatter to break out. I noticed Juliet hadn’t put a damn thing on her plate. She was patiently asking Rosie what she wanted, pointing to each item and asking before adding it to her plate, promising her she could have ice cream as long as she promised to eat all the other food.
Then, once Rosie had the food she wanted to eat, Juliet started cutting it up in bite-sized pieces for her. She was holding down the fork with her broken hand while she sliced with the other. That was when I noticed I wasn’t the only one staring at her, but everyone else was too. When Juliet saw, her cheeks turned pink again. Just like when she got caught staring at my junk. Something I was going to remind her of later.
“I didn’t know you had extended family here?” my mother asked.
“No, ma’am. They’re my neighbors and my friends,” Juliet said.
“She called you ‘ma’am.’” Blake started to choke on the food he was still chewing.
“Cynthia, please. I’m not that old,” my mom said.
“Cindy, we’re old,” Dad mentioned.
“I feel young; therefore, I’m young.”
“Jessamine, can you pass the bacon?” Blake smiled sweetly at Jess.
Jess pretended to grab for the bacon, but then pushed the plate farther away. “Oh, sorry. Can’t reach it.”
My brother got up in that ridiculous onesie of his and got the plate himself.
“Look, Julie, a baby kangaroo.” Rosie pointed a finger towards Blake.
“Why does your brother have a baby kangaroo in his pouch?” Juliet turned to look at me for answers.
Before I could tell Juliet we’d given up on Blake a long time ago, he answered her.
“It came with the PJ’s. Can’t take the baby out—I’ll feel bad. Plus, I can stash my controller; that way I don’t lose it anymore.” He ruffled Rosie’s hair as he passed. “Let me tell you, munchkin, PS4 controllers ain’t cheap.”
Between my family, Juliet, and the girls, the food was devoured quickly. Afterward, Clark left because he had to go work, but promised to stop by for some food later. Blake dragged Jess away from the old people. And I brought Juliet and Rosie down to the basement with me so they could watch a movie.
“This is how you guys spend Thanksgiving every year?” Juliet asked.
Rosie had fallen asleep in her lap. We’d watched Trolls while Rosie and Juliet sang along to every song. Usually I would have bolted, but I didn’t mind watching Juliet play with the little girl until she fell asleep.
“More or less. There was one year when my parents weren’t doing so well financially, and Mom knew to have dinner was going to be much more expensive, so she decided to have a breakfast feast. The night before, our parents let us stay up way past our bedtime. We woke up fucking late the next day, and Mom had all the food spread before us. We were so excited to have ice cream, we didn’t think about the lack of turkey.”
Shit. I didn’t mean to share that much. I felt Juliet’s gaze on me, and I didn’t want to turn and look at her. When I’d shared the story with Brooke, there was pity in her eyes. She promised our kids were never going to feel that way. This was after I had proposed, and we thought we were going to last forever.
“Your mom is amazing.” There wasn’t pity in Juliet’s gaze, nor her voice.
“I’m sure your parents aren’t that bad,” I said.
“I didn’t even know it was Thanksgiving until Jess and Rosie came over.” She looked away, ashamed.
Standing up, I took Rosie from her and laid her on the other couch. Grabbing a blanket, I put it over her.
Giving Juliet my hand, I nodded toward the door, to which she responded, “I don’t want to leave Rosie alone.”
“I’ll text Blake,” I said.
Since Mom was busy preparing dinner now, she wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on Rosie. I fucking loved Thanksgiving, but I think I liked it this year even more. That was all the affirmation Juliet needed because when Jess and Blake walked through the door, she took my hand and let me lead her to the attached greenhouse we had built for my mother.
“Wow… this is gorgeous.”
“Dad got tired of watching Ma complain that her flowers never survived winter, so we built her this. If you look there, you can see where Clark, Blake, and I put our handprints.”
“You’re fortunate you have a loving family,” she said, her eyes not meeting mine. “I saw my brothers today, and they acted like… like I didn’t exist.”
Juliet quickly wiped a tear with her good hand. I had the urge to find Prescott and Max and give both a punch or two.
“I’m sorry, babe.” I tilted her chin so she could look me in the eyes. “Are they still mad about the F
reya thing?”
Her lower lip quivered.
“Please don’t cry. You’re too pretty to have tears in your eyes.”
She bit her lip to stop from crying, but gave a humorless chuckle. “So pretty people aren’t supposed to cry?”
I smiled at her, shaking my head and leading her deeper into the greenhouse toward the front where my mom had her reading nook along with a heated blanket. With all the windows, it got a bit chilly.
“Here. I don’t want you to get cold.”
“What about you?” Juliet held the blanket open, inviting me to get in there with her.
“Fuck yeah, that feels better,” I said when the blanket started to warm us up.
“It’s so pretty. The view, the snowy hills, and the fresh smell of plants all around… it seem magical.”
“Juliet…”
She turned to look at me. The tears were gone from her eyes, but her cheeks were still flushed. And it was one of those things I liked most about her. Shit, even the way she took care of Rosie was a turn-on at this point.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t go to your family today…but I’m glad you’re here.”
She smiled at me, the kind of smile she had given my mom and Rosie, but not me yet. The type of smile she’d given me in art class when I sat next to her.
“Are you good at drawing? Because I suck, and it was this or cooking, and I suck at cooking slightly more than drawing.” Juliet turned to me and smiled, all rosy lips and white teeth, and I had the urge to lean into her and kiss her.
“Wouldn’t cooking be more beneficial than drawing?”
“I’d rather murder my canvas with my horrid drawing skills than burn down the school.”
I couldn’t help cracking up. “Juliet…”
“Yeah?” She cocked her head, growing tense with the intensity I was emitting.
“I’m going to kiss you.”
“What—”
My hand went to the nape of her neck, bringing her closer to me. My lips instantly locked onto hers, and I no longer felt the chill from the greenhouse. Her hand came to my chest, lightly touching me, exploring. I felt a current run from where her hand touched me straight to my cock. This lust was years in the making. It was close to enflamed, and the only way that was going to happen was when I sunk myself so deep in her. The chemistry we had was suffocating, erasing everything else, and only the thought of her mattered.
Having had enough waiting, I started to devour her. She made a small gasp, the sound so soft and sweet I wanted to hear it first thing in the morning and for it to be the last noise she made before going to sleep. When her hands went around my shoulders, I sat her on my lap. I almost laughed; most chicks would have straddled me, but not Juliet. I wasn’t going to complain as long as her ass nestled against my cock. I was good—for now.
The taste of her lips was sweet, just like I remembered, and I couldn’t get enough. A part of me was telling me to go slow, but another part of me was too far gone to listen to any reason. My hands made their way up her leg, the warm blanket keeping us hidden. Those pouty lips I’d been kissing opened up, and I used the opportunity to add a little tongue in the mix. Fuck. It was even more addicting like this—she tasted like vanilla ice cream. I didn’t know if Juliet was doing it on purpose or not, but the way she kept squirming in my lap was turning me inside out. She was searching for a release she was never going to find in that position.
“Jake,” she moaned when I finally found her drenched pussy.
The satin material of her panties was soaked. Juliet opened her legs enough for me to get my finger inside her. If I felt this much pleasure from touching her like this, I could only imagine how it would feel when I finally fucked her.
“Fuck, that’s it.” My hands became tighter around her waist.
I was impatient at this slow torture while she was starting to fall apart in my arms. I was dying to be inside her.
“Jake,” she breathed as my finger rubbed circles against her engorged clit. Her arms around my neck loosened, but the way she was kissing me was feverish.
“Fuck, the anticipation has made this so much sweeter,” I whispered as I kissed her neck.
I was so lost in her smell, the taste of her lips, the grind of her hips, that I didn’t feel when she stopped moving.
24
Juliet
Have you ever spaced out and all you hear is white noise, and everything around you goes blank? You are physically in the moment, but you aren’t, and your mind is now a million miles away?
My legs were open, and I felt the pad of Jake’s thumb playing with my clit, but the pleasure I was feeling mere moments ago now felt uncomfortable. Shameful even. The guttural way he said the words was nothing like the velvety timbre of my husband, but it was enough to cause panic in me.
“The anticipation makes it that much sweeter. Every single time, wife.”
“Please,” I managed to say.
I needed his hands away from me right now. I needed to tell Jake that this had nothing to do with him without going into detail on what was wrong with me. There isn’t anything wrong. I’m perfectly fine. But those words were getting harder to believe. Jake still kept kissing my neck, and I was immobilized, still trying to pretend like I’d left my manor with no emotional damage.
“Hey—” Jess’s voice rang inside the room.
Jake immediately removed his hand from between my legs, adjusting us in the process. Now that I wasn’t lost in passion, I felt his arousal. Okay, if I was being honest, I felt it before. But before, I wanted it; now, I wasn’t sure if I could handle it, and it had nothing to do with his size.
There is nothing wrong with me.
“Were you guys making out?” Jess looked suspiciously from Jake to me.
My cheeks got red. “No.”
“Sure. Is that why your lipstick is all over Jake’s mouth?”
My head snapped to look at Jake, my hands ready to wipe away my lipstick, except when I looked at him, there was nothing smeared. Then I remembered my lipsticks were dubbed to be blow job–proof.
“Are you guys naked under the blanket? Were you two fucking?”
“Jess!”
My mortified shriek was enough to alert the house that something was going on out here, and then they would know that Jake was fingering me in front of Cynthia’s plants. For all I knew, Cynthia treated her plants like little children and I had just defiled them in some way.
“Your blush is a dead giveaway,” Jess said before she left me alone with Jake.
I was glad for her interruption, but now that Jess had left, what if Jake wanted to pick up where we’d left off?
“Juliet, can you look at me?” I felt his hand give my palm a soft squeeze.
“Huh?’” Seriously, I was making things worse for me.
“Did I do something wrong? You were with me, then I don’t know what the fuck happened.” With his other hand, Jake ran his hand through his light hair, and a part of me almost smiled. That’s why it was always messy. “You were with me, babe, and then I lost you.”
I was looking at his face, but I couldn’t look into his eyes. Lying would make it that much harder.
“When I opened my eyes, I saw the plants and—”
“You remembered we were at my mom’s house,” he finished with a smile.
All I felt was guilt and a sick feeling of relief that he bought my lie.
“We should head back before someone else comes out here,” I mumbled.
“Yeah,” he replied, but made no move to get up.
“Jake!”
The shout caused us both to get up and put the blanket away. Before we opened the door to the house, Jake pushed me against the wall, his hands at my waist holding me in place while he gave me a slow kiss. This was different from the way we were kissing earlier. It wasn’t rushed and full of lust, but instead it was a slow-burn kiss that promised more.
“Next time we end up with my fingers in your hot little pussy, we won’t stop u
ntil you’re gasping my name,” he growled against my mouth.
I stopped breathing. My skin was hot from his words.
“That blush does give you away, babe.” The asshole smirked, then opened the door and led us inside.
The quivering in my stomach was back, but I wasn’t so sure it was just lust. There was something else there. It was fear, and I had never taken it into account.
Jake and I were the last ones at the dinner table; even Clark was already seated.
“Damn, took you long enough. I’m on a shift. That means I have thirty minutes to stuff myself before I have to head back,” Clark said.
“You could always take it to go,” I replied while Jake got my chair for me to sit.
Rosie was already seated between Blake and Jess. Jess, of course, couldn’t resist and wiggled her eyebrows at me. Mrs. Carson brought a huge ham out and put it in the center of the table.
“Where’s the turkey?” Rosie asked.
“No one really likes turkey. It’s too dry… Honestly, how do we know it was turkey what the Indians and pilgrims ate? It could have been a big fat chicken, and years later turkey sales were down. Because let’s be honest, no one ever goes, ‘What am I making for dinner tonight? Oh, I’ll make some turkey.’ So, wham, they told us the pilgrims and Indians ate turkey, and they make up on turkey sales from one day a year. And no one questions it,” Blake answered.
I couldn’t help but start laughing. My family wouldn’t be caught dead without a turkey on Thanksgiving; it was tradition. It was what was expected.
“I think that’s awesome.” I didn’t add that, if done right, turkey was not only healthier, but delicious.
“Okay, girls, in this house we have a tradition in saying thanks for the things you are grateful for this year,” Mr. Carson said. “I’m thankful for my beautiful wife, who gets more graceful with age. Thank God, because I’m too old to train a new one.”
My eyes went wide at the audacity in his voice, but I smiled when Cynthia playfully punched him.
“For my sons who are successful… and for Blake as well, who—thank the Lord—is leaving for college next year. One less mouth to feed,” he continued.