by Piper, M.
She grins down at me and just as my control is snapping, she sinks over me and I groan loud, louder than I normally get during sex but it feels so fucking good.
She moans, pinches her nipples again, letting her head fall back.
And then she starts to rock.
“Reagan,” I pant, gripping her hips tight as she rocks over me. “Fuck,” I manage, right before she leans down and slams her lips to mine. She’s fucking me fast, her hips pivoting and I can feel her tightening around me.
Her breath shudders and I hold her tight against me as her hips rock back and forth on my dick. She moans, her movements becoming harder and faster.
“Come, Reagan,” I growl, her head dipping to my shoulder so I grip her hair and nip her earlobe. She moans and rocks back on me harder. “Fucking come,” I whisper.
She tightens around me and the minute her pussy starts to clench around me, I come undone.
“Fuuuck,” I groan, letting her milk me as I hold tight to her.
She’s panting, her hands start rubbing up and down my arms, and the small hums coming out of her are music to my ears.
“Fuck, Nico,” she finally whispers, rolling to the side of the bed. I grin at her, swiping her hair away from her face and pushing my lips to hers.
“Hold that thought,” I whisper, then hop off the bed and head to the bathroom to toss the condom. I pause while inside, and smile at the mess on her counter. I’ve gone ape shit on my brother for leaving messes smaller than this on our bathroom counter. But here?
It’s cute. It’s endearing. She’s not perfect, but in some way…she is.
“You know what’s funny,” she says, scaring me and I whip around to see her standing there, sheet wrapped around her, leaning on the doorframe and looking at the mess on the counter.
“What’s that?”
“I used to go to Ford’s house every week to clean his bathroom because he wouldn’t ever do it. I thought it was so gross.” She laughs. “Mine’s clean…it’s just…cluttered.” She shrugs and smiles. “No one comes in here but me, so uh…sorry for the mess.”
“Don’t apologize to me for it,” I say. “However, you lied to me.” I raise an eyebrow and pull her to me, crashing my lips to hers before she pulls back.
“I did?” Her eyebrows push together and she looks up at me.
“You said you wouldn’t be getting out of bed today. And you promised for a boring day. Both of which I haven’t seen yet.” I grin at her and she rolls her eyes. “You do that a lot, too,” I say.
“What?”
“Roll your eyes. Like the attitude is just bursting at the seams to get out of you.”
She laughs and steps back.
“It isn’t. Trust me. I let it all out when it needs to come out.”
She walks back to the bed and I can’t stop smiling. I’ve never had someone like this in my life. Someone who I’ve felt so comfortable around. Someone who I wanted to know every single layer of their life, and be there for the future layers. And it scares me, because I’ve barely cracked through the surface of this girl and already I’m becoming addicted.
“You got the bar for a minute?” I ask Brittney, tossing her the towel.
“Go. We’re dead, take your time.” She winks at me and smacks my ass with the towel as I move past her to grab my cell phone from the back room. Immediately, I unlock it and grin. Two new texts and a missed call wait for me.
It’s been two weeks of almost non-stop communicating between Nico and I, and yet I still feel like there’s a ton of shit I need to learn about him. He’s more than I thought I wanted in my life, but I’m not mad about it. I head out back to the alley and lean against the brick wall, grinning as I open the texts.
Nico: Dear Ten. Missouri sucks balls. Illinois is where it’s at.
Nico: I miss you.
I try to suppress my grin but it doesn’t work. All I know is I’m way too giddy to be typing out this message right now. With him traveling so much for work he’s barely here, so most our conversations have been through the phone. I’ve become that girl who’s constantly checking her phone to see if he’s called or texted.
At least I’m not the cat meme girl anymore.
Reagan: I’d say I miss you too, but that’d be a pretty pansy thing to do. So I’ll say ‘I miss your face.’ That sounds less weak.
Nico replies almost immediately and I can’t wipe the stupid smile off my face.
Nico: My face, huh? Nothing else about me you miss?
Me: Nah, nothing HUGE that I can think of.
Nico: har har. How’s work?
I grin and turn on my camera, snapping a selfie. It’s actually not bad. In the dim lighting of the alley and the good hair day I’m having, it’s a pretty fucking sexy picture if I must say. I hit send and before he can reply, a video call starts to ring in.
And of course, it’s my nephew.
I can’t not answer Carter’s call. Lincoln’s been begging me to video call him lately but I just haven’t had the time. Carter is Lincoln and Wren’s son. Well, one of them. That family likes to produce boys, for some reason. He’s the oldest, and he loves me. His auntie Reagan. I can’t ignore the kid.
I swipe to answer, making sure it’s neck-up only on the phone screen.
“Hey buddy!” I answer cheerfully. His face scrunches behind the glasses he’s had to start wearing and his eyes squint.
“Why can’t I see you good, Aunt Reagan? Where are you?”
“I’m on break at work, buddy. What are you doing Face-timing me at ten pm? Do your parents know you’re doing this right now?” The kid’s almost seven, he’s almost old enough to be kind of self-sufficient, but it’s still odd for him to be up this late.
He grins wide and flips the camera and I can’t help but laugh.
“Daddy, Mommy, and the baby fell asleep on the couch a while ago,” he says, showing me the sleeping pile of humans. “I’ve watched a full movie and made myself some toast because I’m hungry.” He shrugs. “I miss you, Aunt Reagan.”
“Buddy, you need to go to sleep,” I say, panicked because he’s not old enough to be using a toaster by himself. Is he? “Wake your dad up.”
“He’s snoring. Can’t you hear him? When are you coming home?”
“Oh my God,” I mutter, rubbing my forehead.
“Reag?” I hear Lincoln’s voice and the phone screen dips before his face comes on the screen. “What are you doing?”
“Your son’s been taking care of himself for over an hour, Lincoln. While you guys sleep on the couch. Then he called me.”
“Why are you in the dark? Where are you?”
“Work,” I snip, annoyed that he’s not seeing the danger in this. “Lincoln, you can’t just let your kids stay awake without you awake with them!”
“Oh my God, Reagan, chill,” he says, laughing. “He’s fine. And we were right here. What do you know about raising kids, anyway? You ran away from the only kids you’ve ever had the chance to be around.”
He raises his eyebrows at me and I’ve got nothing. Nothing to say, because he’s kind of right. I don’t have kids of my own. I don’t know what it’s like. I used to help with Carter a ton when I lived at home, but ever since I moved I’ve made it a point not to be involved in their lives and the longer I go without them in mine, the more it hurts.
“You’re right,” I whisper, shifting back on the wall. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m proud of him for being able to take care of himself. When I left he wasn’t that self- sufficient.”
“Yeah, and when you left he was two and a half years younger. A lot can happen in two years, Reag. Kids grow up fast.” Lincoln’s eyebrows push together. “Reagan? What the hell are you wearing?” he growls. My eyes fly open when I realize I’ve been lax on holding the phone and my big brother can see my uniform…or lack thereof.
Fuck me.
“I gotta go, break’s over. Love you guys, bye!” I yell, ending the call as quickly as I could.
A new me
ssage is waiting for me and though I should head back inside, I bite my lip and grin, allowing myself a little longer break than I’d usually take.
Nico: Instantly jealous of every other guy who walks into that bar tonight.
I laugh and start to type my reply, but before I can hit send the back doors fly open.
“Reagan, what the fuck?” Dean growls, storming over to me. “Since when do you take breaks in the back alley?” He stalks his way to me, like a lion stalks its prey, and stops in front of me.
“Am I not allowed to take breaks back here?” I ask, raising my eyebrows and sliding my phone into my back pocket.
Dean’s eyes narrow and he swipes around me, grabbing my phone out of my hands and reads the texts from Nico.
“Fuck,” he says, letting out a low whistle. “Think he’d mind if I sent myself this picture?”
“Dean, Stop,” I blurt, trying to grab my phone but he blocks me, then with one hand slams me back against the wall while he texts himself the picture I took only for Nico. My head hurts from where it hits the brick wall, but the pain is nothing compared to the panic starting to set in.
“Vinny know about this little romance you two got going on?” he whispers, reaching around me and pushing the phone back into my back pocket. These tiny boy short pockets are nothing, so the phone barely fits, but he makes sure to give it a good feel to be sure it won’t fall out.
“It’s not his business,” I hiss, trying to push myself away from the wall.
“But it is mine, because it’s taking up your time on the clock. I should dock you for all those minute you spend flirting with your boyfriend when there are paying customers inside wanting to pay you to flirt with them.” His tone grows louder as he talks and by the end he’s furious. “No more phones on the floor!” he bellows, slamming his hand against the brick wall. “And no more back alley breaks, Reagan. There’s scum out here.”
“There’s scum in there, too,” I growl, trying to shove him off me but he pins me tighter to the wall and leans so close I can smell his breath.
And it doesn’t smell good at all.
“Talking to me like that’s the quickest way to find yourself flat on your ass, Reagan. Without this job, you wouldn’t survive here in this city.”
I grit my teeth because I know he’s right. A small part of me, the part that’s clinging on to the girl I used to be, is screaming that I don’t need this job. But I shove her away.
I do need it. Because I have everything to prove.
I storm back inside the minute he lets go of me and finish my shift in a haze of anger, leaving before he can even hand me my tips from tonight. I’m sure it wasn’t the smartest move, but the minute he took my drawer to the back room I was gone.
On my drive home my hands are shaking on my steering wheel. I’m nervous, but I don’t know what for.
I grab my phone, and call Nico. Even though it’s almost midnight.
“Ten,” he says, making me grin immediately.
“I thought you said I was more of an eleven?” I joke, hitting the wipers as the rain starts to come down.
“It’s the guidelines, Ten. I’m sorry. They didn’t make it go any higher. Plus, I can’t exactly call you eleven. That’s just a weird nickname.”
“Right, sure. And Ten isn’t.”
“Not at all.” He says. “How was work?”
“Fine. Good. Crazy. Dumb. Fucking Dean’s the antichrist.”
“Whoa,” Nico laughs. “So was it fine, good, or horrible?”
“All of the above. I’m sure I made good money tonight in tips, but I walked out before I got them.”
“You quit?” he blurts and I groan in frustration.
“No. Just left at the end of my shift without waiting for tips to be allocated. I’m sure I’ll get them tomorrow.” Maybe. Probably not.
“What’d Dean do? I can get him fired. You want me to call our uncle?” I can hear the smile in his voice and I let out a strangled laugh/scream/growl. “Well then. That about sums it up,” he jokes. “Seriously, what happened, Reagan?”
I groan and park my car in front of my apartment.
“Dean’s just a fucking jerk.” I groan, then proceed to tell him everything that happened tonight. Every little thing. “And to top it off, the rest of my shift he sat in a booth near the bar and glared at me. Like he’s pissed I have a social life outside of work or something. It’s never been this bad before with him. I mean, he’s got the whole slew of waitresses to fuck around with, why’s he gotta latch on to me?”
“Because you’re the only one who’s not available, probably,” Nico says, his tone serious.
“I’m not available, huh?” I ask, getting out of my car with a dorky grin on my face. “Mind telling me why not?”
The phone falls silent and I glance at it, making sure we didn’t disconnect.
“Nico?”
“You’re not, are you? Seeing other people?”
“What? No!” I scoff, laughing. “I was joking, dude. Chill out.”
“It’s just hard, not being there, you know? Relationships that start out long distance, or pretty much long distance with as much as I’m gone, are bound to fail miserably in the pits of hell.”
“Oh is that a scientific fact?” I ask, unlocking my apartment door and sliding inside and out of the rain.
“It is.” He says, chuckling. I click the door closed and pull off my shoes. “Did you lock the door?” he asks and I pause, grinning.
“How do you know I’m home already?” I pull off my jacket and put him on speakerphone as I undress right by the front door, dropping my clothes to the carpet.
“It takes you twelve and a half minutes to get from work to home. And I know the sound of your car door shutting. The length of time it takes to walk from the car to your front door. And the fact that you just slammed your front door. Now, again. Did you lock it?”
“I did,” I mutter, pausing and throwing my hand to my hip. “Wait, you know all of that about me? That’s kind of creepy, Nico.”
“Not creepy, just a little obsessive. I worry, Ten. You don’t live in a fantastic neighborhood. I don’t like you being alone, walking in alone at night. Plus, we’ve done this phone call every single night the past two weeks when you’ve gotten off work. I’ve waited up for you every time. I remember things pretty easily.”
I shake my head and walk back to my bedroom for a t-shirt, unable to wipe the smile off my face.
“You know, some girls wouldn’t like that,” I say, taking the phone to the kitchen with me and grabbing a bottle of wine out of the fridge.
“What about you? You’re the only one who matters, Ten.”
“I don’t mind it, I guess. It’s nice to have someone looking out after me. I don’t have that much here.” I spin the glass after pouring it full and sigh. “I had that a lot at home. Someone always checking in on me and needing to know I was safe.”
The phone falls silent again for a brief moment, then I hear him take a breath as I bring my glass to my lips.
“Reagan, why don’t you want to move home?”
I squeeze my eyes closed, because lately that seems to be the big question everyone’s wanting an answer to…and I don’t have a good one.
“Because,” I whisper.
“That’s not an answer, Ten.”
I take a few deep breaths and roll my eyes.
“Because I’m stubborn. I need to prove to them that I can do it.”
“You need to prove to them? Or to you? Because to them, you’ve been doing it for two years now. On your own. Without their help. You can do it, and you have.”
I nod. “I’ve never looked at it that way before,” I say, glancing around my bare bones apartment.
“You miss it there,” Nico says with confidence.
“I do,” I mutter, standing from my stool and walking over to my laptop. “A lot.”
“So why don’t you do it? Move home. There’s a job waiting for you. There are plenty of apartments t
here. You don’t have to move back in with your parents. You’ve made it on your own there in the big city, you can do it in that small town.”
“Hah,” I bark. “Springfield is not a small town. Have you never been there?”
“I can’t say that I have,” he says and I can hear the smile in his voice.
“You should visit one day,” I say.
“I’d like that. Maybe when I help move you into your new place?”
“Alright funny guy, enough. I get it. You think I don’t belong here. But I’ve got two very scary bosses who think I do. You know for a fact Vinny and Dean aren’t going to let me quit without a fight.”
“They don’t own you. And if they’ve got a problem with it, they can come through me. Those clowns aren’t anything.”
“So I gather you and Dean don’t have the best of relationships for being cousins.” I pick at my nail polish, staring at my computer screen. The first time Nico came into the club, Dean was on edge. Ever since he found out I was seeing Nico, he’s been on edge. What Nico said earlier about him makes sense, but I feel like there’s something else there.
“He’s my second cousin. We’re all related somehow. And dude’s never liked me, Reagan. He’s just a class A jackass.”
“A scary one,” I mutter, making Nico sigh.
“I’ll take care of them. Don’t you worry.” He yawns. “Hey, Ten. I’m tired. And I have an early day tomorrow. I’m happy you’re home safe.”
“Thanks for walking me in,” I whisper, opening the browser on my computer.
“Night, Ten,” Nico says.
“Night, Nico.” I end the call and smile.
For the first time in years, I finally understand the saying ‘Home is Where the Heart Is.’
I’ve tried making Chicago my home, but Nico’s right. I don’t belong here.
Because I left my heart and soul in Springfield.
“You’re what?” Dean’s voice blasts through the empty club and I cross my arms in front of me.
Two weeks ago I decided, with the help of a little nudge from Nico, that Chicago isn’t the place for me. He was right. I did it. I showed everyone I can survive on my own and I sustained that life for two years.