Grease Slapped

by A. M. Jones

  I feel his smile against my cheek as he begins again, our bodies smacking together. Placing his hands on my breasts and holding me closer, he pumps harder. His weight leaves my back as his pace becomes rougher. He traces my newest tattoo and freezes, sucking in a breath. We both are still. I get nervous about what he thinks when he weaves his other hand in my hair.

  The next thing I know, his mouth brushes my ear. “Does that say what I think it says?”

  “Yes.”

  Pulling hard, he smacks my ass and continues moving. Soon after, I feel the build of my oncoming orgasm. I call out. He slows and turns my head, leaning to my ear. “Shhh. As much as I’m captivated by your sounds, you need to be quieter.”

  A gush of air rushes from me that sounds like I disapprove.

  “I promise I’ll take you again later and you can make as much noise as you want.” The hot breath against my neck spurs me to slam back against him. From the harsh sound that rips from his throat, I know he loves this as much as I do. A year of wanting and waiting makes me wanton in my movements.

  Our breaths come in ragged huffs. The pressure explodes. I clench around him, and he lets out his own groan, but doesn’t give himself over to release. He slams against me once and lets me go, sliding out. He laughs at my noise of protest. “Flip over.”

  I obey, feeling his need to control. His eyes cloud over as they scan me from head to toe. That’s when I notice he has on a condom.

  “I’m on the pill.”

  “Awesome news,” he breathes. “So, you’re okay with not using protection?”

  Our heavy breathing fills the stretch of silence, but it’s not awkward as the conversation sometimes is, because I’m okay with not using one when I normally wouldn’t be. When I nod, I watch him pinch the end and pull the rubber off, tossing it away.

  Caressing my calf, he places my quivering leg over his shoulder. His face relaxes as he rubs me with himself a few times before sliding in. We stay like that for a while before he spreads my other leg wider, pushing himself deeper and harder in absorption. Though his thrusts are hard, he pulls back slowly each time. The pressure builds again as his movements become more erratic with his breathing. Sweat trickles from his temple, dripping onto my chest. My body jerks as the orgasm takes me by surprise. I clamp my lips closed. The pleasure keeps going in waves as he groans into one my calves before sinking his teeth into it.

  He slows to a stop, gasping for air. A smile spreads across his face as he falls beside me with his hand sliding to my stomach. My eyelids droop even as exhilaration overtakes my senses. Truth is, I’m usually the one in control and it’s been a long time since I’ve been fucked like that. I realize now how much he needed to blow off steam.

  His own lids seem heavy as he searches my face. “You might as well have my name tattooed on your body.”

  I shrug and grin.

  “You think you’re so fucking clever.”

  I grin wider. “I am.”

  “How long have you had it?” His voice is strained.

  I’m not too sure what he wants to hear but I give him the truth. “The same night Tainted District played in Knoxville. You weren’t supposed to see it.”

  He stares at me for so long, I start to think he fell asleep with his eyes open. “Yet.” The word hangs in the air between us. There are so many implications, so much still working against us, so he’s agreeing he wasn’t meant to see it but eventually so.

  “Don’t go anywhere,” he says.

  I turn on my side to face him. “Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I can walk.”

  He winces. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to.”

  “Still—”

  “It was inevitable, Eli.” I sigh. No matter how hard we both try to do what’s right for the other, our chemistry is impossible to ignore anymore. I’m finished fighting it. The tattoo says it all.

  His head lifts, and the glow casts shadows and light on his features. “I’m glad you’re here, Taylor.”

  A lot of unspoken things float between us, but my heart swells. Warmth drifts through my body as every place our bodies touch tingles in awareness. “Me, too.”

  I wake to heat against my arm. Beside me, Taylor pounds away at the keyboard of her laptop—the source of the heat. Elation runs through me. Few times have I woken with her next to me, and every time I wish I could do so every day. But even watching her focused stare and her tongue peeking from between her teeth, the day ahead lands on my shoulders and crawling from bed is the last thing I want to do. She halts and her gaze slides to me. A small smile touches her lips as she tucks hair out of my face. Her own is a rat’s nest.

  “Good morning,” she whispers. “How are you feeling?”

  I’m not sure I can explain it. I feel so shattered, but jubilant at the same time. “What time is it?”

  She glances at her screen. “Ten thirty-two.”

  I groan. My eyes don’t want to stay open, they feel swollen. It’s harder than normal for me to get out of bed, mainly because sleep didn’t come easy. “Have you had coffee?”

  She smiles wider. “I didn’t want to go anywhere.”

  “I meant don’t leave the house.” I meet her gaze. “But I don’t know where I’d be if you weren’t here.”

  Closing her laptop, she pushes it to the side. “I want to be, but I was going to wake you soon, anyway. I heard the shower cut on upstairs.”

  I sit, running my hands through my hair. She leans over and kisses me, smiling before she moves from the bed—still naked. I don’t take my eyes off the tattoo as she pulls on her sweat pants. This is Taylor’s way of showing her feelings for me. And her proclamation that I wasn’t supposed to see it means she’s not ready for want she wants to give.

  She catches me watching her dress. “I need a shower. Badly.”

  A flash of suds running over her tattoos flows through my mind. I kick the sheet off. “That’s a terrific idea.”

  She laughs but stops. “Eli—”

  “No. No. Don’t ruin it. I have plenty of time to think about other things.”

  “I know, I—” The doorbell rings upstairs, triggering the melody to Take Me Out to the Ballgame down here. My dad rigged the bell from his love of baseball, much to my mom’s dismay, but this room was his space to do with as he pleased. It becomes difficult to swallow.

  The tune also stops Taylor in her tracks. Her mouth opens and closes before she shakes her head as she glances around the room. “That must be family.”

  “Probably so.” I stand and wince as I throw my jeans on. I must’ve been rougher than I thought. Last night, I needed her in a way that surprised me.

  I open my mouth to ask her how she feels, but she plows right on with the subject. “Eli, I’m so sorry about John.” Her wide eyes reflect the anguish I feel.

  Grabbing her hand, I pull her closer. “How about this? Go to the garage apartment and shower there in privacy. I’ll bring you some coffee after I check on my mom.” She opens her mouth to protest, but I stop her. “It’ll help keep my mind off things.”

  She grazes her lips against mine and turns to grab her stuff. I wait until she goes through the sliding door to pick the condom off the floor and throw it away. I wish I could take Taylor and leave for a few weeks to hole up in a remote place somewhere.

  When I get to the kitchen, the grief in the air feels oppressive. My mom hugs Uncle Joe, my dad’s younger brother. He shakes with silent tears. She spies me, scanning my face. Her eyes are bloodshot with distinct dark rings around them. I point to the empty pot. Her gaunt expression crumbles and fresh tears trail her cheeks, but she nods.

  When I go about making coffee, I see loose change and the ring of lawnmower and tractor keys on top on the microwave in an oblong bowl—most likely last touched by my dad. This bowl never lacked for loose change. When I became a teenager, every time I smarted off or said something disrespectful, I had to feed the bowl. I don’t know how long I
stare at those items before someone pats my back and removes the coffee scoop from my hands.

  A priest arrives. More extended family show to begin the grieving process. I sit on the couch with my grandmother, my mom’s mom, who can barely walk herself. She pats my knee as she watches my face in that way old people do—as if they know what we think and how we feel because they’ve already lived a lifetime. We both listen to the soft sniffs and sobs throughout the house. It’s hard not to think about my dad walking around in here, not even twenty-four hours before, or the fact we had plans for the first preseason football game this coming weekend. The remote to the living room TV still sits on the recliner arm where he leaves it all the time. His presence lingers as I suspect it always will. Before I know it, Taylor squats in front of me.

  “Oh shi—” I glance at my grandmother, “Crap, Taylor. I’m the worst.”

  “Where on earth is Madison?” My grandma asks but appraises Taylor. Taylor goes a little pale.

  I’ve expected this and looking around, I can see that everyone else waits for me to answer, too.

  I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “I doubt you’ll be seeing Madison around anymore.”

  My grandmother sniffs. “Good. Life is too short. Anyway, I bought that CD she put out. It’s awful. What is music coming to these days? There’s no feeling to it. It’s like people record whatever words that’ll grab the most attention.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more,” I say but mouth an apology at Taylor.

  She shakes her head. “Let’s go.”

  I let her lead me to the bathroom, removing my clothing. The effect shakes me out of a fog. She unbuttons my jeans. “I think I like this idea.” I watch her every move. When she pulls them down over my dick, I hiss in a breath. “Ouch, it’s sore. It might need special attention. In the shower.”

  Her lips twitch. “Don’t be perverted. I’m trying to take care of you.”

  “You like when I’m perverted.”

  She beams with bright eyes, making my knees weak. “Yes, but a shower will make you feel better. You can ride with me to see my mother later. I need to borrow your truck.”

  I wince as she figures out how to turn on the shower, not wanting to think about Eileen while I’m trying to charm Taylor to shower with me. “I don’t think your mom likes me much.”

  “She doesn’t like anyone, but she knows how much you mean to me.”

  “And how much would that be?” I swallow, needing to hear the answer as much as I need yesterday to have never happened.

  “Enough to tattoo your memory on my skin. Enough to sit around with your grief-stricken family with a giant A on my chest.”

  I sigh, knowing we still have things to work out. Tattoo and all, she’s still holding back on me. “They don’t think that. Well, maybe after disappearing into the bathroom together.”

  She laughs and pulls the shower curtain to the side. “Get in. I brought clothes from the garage apartment.”

  I squint at the bundle, wishing for the second time today we could forgo clothes. Her blue eyes glimmer with sympathy. I don’t think she knows how much she’s helping right now. I don’t think I could tell her with words.

  We pull in my mom’s driveway and gasp. Eli glances at me with his mouth hanging open.

  “No,” I whisper, looking at a familiar Prius in the driveway.

  Eli shakes his head and laughs. “I don’t think he can call me a cheeky fucker again.”

  “It’s not funny.” I hop out, rushing to the front door as Eli’s door slams behind me. I open it with my very own key just as she comes waltzing down to the foyer, wrapped in a blanket.

  “Taylor,” she warns.

  “How long?” I ask just as Crockett struts out naked and flapping freely. I slap a hand over my eyes, trying to blink away the scene and my mother’s sex hair.

  Eli laughs. “Wow. Just wow.”

  I peek between my fingers. “Oh my god.” My face heats at the buff guy standing behind Crockett. At least he’s wearing underwear—no matter how minuscule they are.

  My mother fidgets, even as she can’t keep a huge smile off her face. She shrugs. I can’t believe this is happening right now.

  Looking to Crockett, I demand an explanation with my gaze. “Oh, come on, luscious. It’s not that bad.”

  “How long?” I feel betrayed. It’s not that I would’ve cared, but going behind my back?

  “Yes, Taylor,” my mom starts. “We’ve been screwing since November.”

  “Wow,” I say with no emotion as I come to terms with it. My mother is a cougar. “Must be good.”

  At this, she smiles, but tries to cover it with her hand. I suppose she would enjoy screwing a hot younger dude like Crockett. “Yes, but we also enjoy each other’s company.”

  Crockett ignores us both and moves to put an arm around Eli. “How you doing? How’s Gina? I plan on coming by later.”

  “Go put on some clothes.” I can’t believe he’s asking about Gina right now.

  His smile is sinful. “Like ordering people around while they’re in the nude, huh? You get that honestly.”

  My face flames. Eli focuses on the ceiling. “Yeah, man. Listen, I can’t think when I could’ve gone the rest of my life without seeing your junk flailing around.”

  At that, the awkwardness eases as we all burst into laughter. Crockett gives Eli a mischievous smirk. “You should see what I can do with it.” He gyrates his hips and twirls his cock around.

  “You keep doing that, you’re going to smack yourself in the face.” Eli grins, squeezing his eyes closed, as our laughter grows louder.

  “There’s more where that came from,” Crockett says and flops his way to where ever he left his clothes.

  I’m comfortable on the screened-in patio when my mom appears dressed. I shake my head and forget about asking her about my father right now. “I might need to borrow money.”

  Her brows rise. “You know he won’t take your money.”

  “I don’t know if they need it yet, but in case it comes up, I want to make sure you’re behind me.” I’m not sure what kind of insurance John had or if he even had any, but I hate to think of Gina in a bind.

  She lowers herself beside me. “Asking for money for a man. It must be serious.”

  “Please don’t—”

  “Love can be one of the most wonderful things in life, but it can also be one of the worst.”

  I rub my temples. “I don’t want to hear it right now. I’m screwed up.”

  She sighs. “And you blame me for that, no doubt.”

  “No.” She gives me the look and I wince. “Okay, maybe a little.”

  “But he’s here with you,” she states. I know what she’s getting at. I never bring men around. Ever, if I can help it. Adrian has only stepped inside this house a handful of times and we were together for five years.

  “I had to get him out of that house. It’s—it’s bad. I don’t know what to do. I don’t feel like I’m ready for his intensity sometimes.”

  She gives me an exasperated sigh. “Love doesn’t wait till you’re ready, Taylor. As for not knowing how to help him through grief, I think you’re doing it.”

  I glance inside where the guys are drinking coffee at the dinette table. Eli stares into his cup with slumped shoulders—despondence written all over his face. My heart sinks for him. I wish I could make his pain go away. As if he feels me watching, he looks through the window. His face brightens when he notices and sends me a crooked grin. “I think you might be right.”

  “Just be careful. You two are in a complicated situation, and if you choose this route, it won’t be easy.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s your money, you know? I haven’t spent a penny.”

  “No, it’s yours. It paid for college, the rest is yours for raising me on your own.”

  She sighs, and I can tell she doesn’t want to have this argument again. My father paid more than his fair share of child support, sending money to
pay bills but she never wanted to use his money for anything, so she put it all back for college.

  Crockett opens the door, peeking his head out. He grins and waggles his eyebrows. “Girl talk? You know I looooove that shit.” He swaggers, shutting the door behind him. “You tell her how I do that thing, yet?” he asks my mother.

  I scoff. “You know, Crockett? Once you start screwing my mom, you’re disqualified from girl talk.”

  He stops dead as if this never occurred to him, but he gives us another smirk. “Oh luscious, no need to be jealous. I have a lot of love to give. I’ve always wanted to cross a mother-daughter threesome off the bucket list. What do you say?”

  I say, “Hell no,” at the same time my mother says, “Maybe.” His face is euphoric, and I shoot my mother a go-to-hell look. “You’re both sick in the head.”

  She shrugs, looking at Eli and then raising her brow in question. Crockett laughs, pleased with her unspoken idea. They’re both insatiable when it comes to trying new and out-of-the-norm things.

  I smile. Eli casts us all a curious look. He wouldn’t believe me if I told him. “No fucking way,” I say, even though I know they’re just trying to make me uncomfortable.

  Two weeks later, people still drop by, bringing food and offering condolences. Taylor’s never wavered—always eager to help with anything needed. I’ve been staying with my mom to keep her from being alone. And while Taylor is here for the better part of the day, she goes home at night. She doesn’t want to leave the twins to their own devices. They won’t be in town for much longer. It’s better that way. There’s been a few times my mom and I have broken down together. I’d rather Taylor not witness those times of grief.

  Taylor rearranges stuff in the fridge to make room for another casserole and then sets plates of food on the table. When she’s satisfied, she sits across from me, taking a bite of some carb-filled whatever that smells awesome.

  “What is that?”

  She covers her mouth while she chews. “Not sure what to call it, but it tastes like Thanksgiving.”