by Denise Wells
“Back at you,” I say.
“Look, I don’t want to spoil our conversation with bringing this up, but I want you to be very careful if you ever see Helen again.”
“Why? Did something happen?” I ask.
“I don’t want to bore you with the details,” he says. “But suffice it to say that she did some things that would not be considered sane in most countries after we broke up.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. What happened? Er, no, that’s really not my business.”
“It’s okay, and it is your business. It’s just,” he takes a deep breath, then sighs. “I wasn’t completely honest with you before. About Helen.”
“Honest about what?”
“She can be violent and vindictive. Breaking and entering, property destruction, attempted poisoning. It’s not good. I just want you to be careful. She’s not right in the head and she won’t get help.”
“Ohmigod, Chance!” I say.
“Don’t worry about me,” he says. “I just want to make sure that none of her craziness gets fixated on you. I still don’t know how it was that she was at the Night Moves show and then to have her just show up when you are out to lunch with her cousin, it’s too convenient. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“I understand,” I say.
“I’m going to have someone keep an eye on her. Mostly to make sure she stays away from you.”
“What about you?”
“I’m not worried about me. Plus, I have a restraining order, though it’s more to show I’ve taken action than it is a protective measure.”
“I totally get it.”
“Oh yeah? I’ve got something you can get,” Chance says.
“Is that a come on?” I laugh.
“Depends. Did it work?”
“You know, I think it did.”
“Where are you right now?” he asks.
“I’m at home.”
“Where in your house?”
“In bed.”
“Mmm, I gotta say, beautiful, there is nothing that I like more than the thought of you in your bed,” he says. “Are you wearing one of those crazy little skimpy silk outfits you call pajamas?”
“If I were, what would you say?”
“Fuuucckkk.”
I giggle softly. Then decide to go where no man has gone before. At least not in my house. Or at least where I’ve not gone before.
“How do you feel about phone sex?” I ask.
“Mmmm,” he says. “Are you asking a question or making a suggestion, because my hand has been down my pants since I first heard your voice.”
I giggle again. Mostly because I feel a little giddy about the power that I wield over him. Or, rather, what he lets me wield over him.
“If I were making a suggestion, what would you say?” I ask.
“I would say I’m pushing my pants down around my thighs and getting ready to rock.”
“Where are you right now?” I ask, laughter in my voice.
“On my couch. Are you laughing?”
“Only a little.”
“Okay, I know we are new at this together, beautiful, but laughing at a guy with his cock in hand is kind of a mood killer.”
I laugh out loud. “Sorry, it’s just a cute image in my head. Eager. Like a puppy.”
“Cute and eager are most definitely mood killers as well,” he growls.
“What if I were on my knees in front of you?”
“Now, I like where your head is at,” he says.
“Literally.”
He laughs.
“I’m going to lick just the tip for a bit, maybe run my tongue over the slit, and circle my lips around the head until it’s wet. Mmm, I’m running my lips down the side, getting the shaft with my tongue.”
“Are you wearing the red lipstick?” he grunts.
“I am,” I say softly as I snake my hands down my pants and start rubbing my clit.
“Are you touching yourself?” he asks, breathless.
“I’ve got one hand around your cock and one hand down my pants. I’ve got my lips around the head and I’m working them down your dick as I work my hand up. God, Chance, you taste so good.”
“Fuck, Remi.” He draws both words out. I can hear him jacking his cock through the phone. And, fuck me, if that isn’t a sexy sound.
“I’m running my tongue down the underside and I’m licking your balls. I’m going to take one in my mouth and roll the other one with my hand. It makes your cock jump. You like it when I love on your balls.”
“I do. Oh God, I do.”
“My mouth is back on your dick and I’m sucking it down as deep as I can. It’s hitting the back of my throat which makes me gag just a bit.”
“Fuck, beautiful. You’re killing me.”
“We both like it when you gag me with your cock.” I’m close, so fucking close. Just the thought of having him in my mouth makes me almost come. I want him to finish with me.
“Fuck my mouth, Chance,” I moan.
“Oh fuck, Remi. I’m gonna blow, FUCK!”
“Oh, Chance!” I orgasm almost immediately. The warm rush running over me. Stars exploding behind my eyes. I keep light pressure on my clit and just let the flood of sensations rolling over me, again and again until I am spent.
“Holy fuck balls.”
“You are a goddess.” He groans.
“So fucking good,” I say.
“So fucking good,” he confirms. “Remi, I…”
I wait for him to finish his sentence.
He clears his throat. “I hope you sleep well, beautiful.”
“I will, now.”
“Goodnight,” he says softly.
“Night,” I mumble.
I fall asleep quickly and dream, not surprisingly, of Chance. And sex with Chance. Which, in my dream, is mind-blowing. Even though we are married with kids and sneaking sex in the shower after they’re asleep. And in my dream, I’m happy.
Really happy.
Chapter 29
Chance
I had to jack-off again after talking to Remi, just to feel any semblance of relief. And then I did it one more time in the shower. Imagining her wet slippery body in there with me. Those tits, that ass, and those red lips.
Fuck.
On her knees, taking my cock in her mouth, looking up at me with those big eyes as she swallows everything I have to give her. That is the stuff fantasies are made of.
When I do finally sleep, I dream about her. She’s the last thing I see at night and the first thing I see in the morning. Her belly swelling with my baby. And we’re happy. Happy, like my parents are happy. And when she smiles at me, it’s like I’ve been given the greatest gift and I will treasure it forever.
*
I’m feeling pretty good about most things in general. Until Charlie calls.
“Hey bro, how goes it?”
“Charlie, to what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask, dryly.
“Oh, come on, you know I’m your favorite sister,” she says.
“Yeah, but you don’t ever call me unless you want something.”
“Suck it up. I don’t have a lot of time. The next payment is due for the cruise for Mom and Dad. And you’re up.”
“Shit. Already?”
“Yup!”
“Okay, well let me see what I can pull together.”
“Do you need help? A loan?”
Fuck.
There is no feeling more emasculating than needing money. I can’t believe I’m in this position.
“No! I’ve got this. And even if I didn’t, I would never take a loan from you. You’re my little sister.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t make more money than you.”
“Everyone makes more money than me,” I sigh.
“Ah, the tragedy of public service.”
“Okay, sassy pants, anything else?”
“Nope. Gotta go. Love you, Chancey!”
“Love you too, Charlie,” I say.
We hang up and
I feel a brief moment of panic. I don’t have the money for my payment. But, I could almost go to Alex now and win the bet. Except I don’t want to win the bet anymore. I want to win Remi; to tell her about the bet and have us laugh about it.
I wish I had someone I could talk to about it. But there’s really just Alex, who I’m not going to go to for obvious reasons, and then Matthews, who probably wouldn’t help me anyway.
Fuck.
I could sell my bike.
But then I wouldn’t have a means of transportation. And, Remi would question it. Shit, everyone in my life would question it. And if my parents knew that I’d sold my bike just to pay for something for them, they’d insist on paying me back.
I took a big pay cut for this job because of two things: one, it was time to leave undercover work, and two, coming onto a force in a smaller town. Not that I need to make a lot of money anyway. My living expenses have never been that high to begin with. At least not outside of my Helen days where I would be buying things that made her happy. Or made her appear happy.
But having to come up with this additional money hasn’t been easy. If I ask Alex for half of the bet money, since I’ve met half the terms essentially, it will give me what I need to make my payment.
I grab my phone and make the call.
Alex answers after the first ring. “Yo, loser. What’s up?”
I adopt a fake persona and respond, “No losers here, brother. In fact, I’ve already won over half the bet.”
“No shit?”
“No shit. So I figure I’ll save you the trouble of coughing up the entire two and a half G’s at once and let you pay half now.”
“Dude, there’s no payout for half the bet.”
“Hey, we both know I’m closing the deal. I’m just looking out for your wallet, man,” I say.
“I can’t believe you’re doing it,” Alex says. “Tappin’ that ass.”
“I told you, there’s not an ice queen I can’t thaw.” I wince as I say it, hating myself more and more as this conversation continues. Talking about Remi like this makes me want to throw up. I’m treating her like an object or a plaything. Definitely not like a woman I’m falling for.
“Okay, dude, half it is. Tomorrow after b-ball, at the Recovery Room. I’ll bring cash. You don’t close this deal, you pay me back immediately.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“And just because you’re winning this, doesn’t mean you aren’t still a shitty b-ball player.”
“Later,” I say and hang up.
I’m an asshole.
Such a fucking asshole. If I lose her because of this, it will be one hundred percent my fault.
Chapter 30
Chance
“Don’t be nervous,” I tell her as we walk up the front stoop. “They are going to love you.”
“I’m not nervous,” she says.
“Your palms are sweaty,” I say, feeling the dampness from hers on my palm.
“It’s just because you’re holding my hand.”
I drop her hand from mine. “Is that better?”
“No!” she says grabbing my hand back. “Don’t you dare leave my side. Ohmigod. We need a safe word.”
We are standing on my mother’s front porch because I finally convinced Remi to come to Sunday dinner. I’m certain that my entire family is watching, and probably listening, through the window in the door. Remi wouldn’t know that, however. And I want her to feel safe and not embarrassed, so I let her continue.
“A safe word?”
“Yes. Like if I can’t take it anymore and I just have to get out of there, I can work a word into conversation and you can make up an excuse that your family will believe so we can leave without hurting their feelings.”
“You aren’t going to hurt their feelings. My family is so low key, you could tell them that you are sick of their company and leave and they’ll all still invite you back with open arms at the next get-together.”
“You aren’t helping. That’s not a concept that I can get my head around. What I can get my head around is that this is all going to go terribly, and I need a safe word for when I’m ready to leave since you refused to let me drive myself. Which is actually fine, that’s what Uber is for, right? And it’s not like I’m socially awkward or anything. I have a master’s degree in chemical engineering for God’s sake.
“I’m a news junkie. A girlie-girl who loves fashion. I can talk to men or women about almost anything. Except sports. And probably cooking. I’m not much of a cook. Your mom isn’t going to want to talk about cooking, is she? I mean, I’ve seen a few episodes of Cupcake Wars, but past that, I’ve got nothing. Ohmigod I can’t go in there. Tell them I got sick.”
She drops my hand and turns back down the walkway toward the street.
I jog to catch up with her and then stop her.
“Hey,” I say turning her so she’s facing me. “Do you trust me?”
She nods.
“I need to hear you say it, beautiful.”
“I trust you.”
“Have I killed you on my bike yet?”
“No.”
“Have I steered you wrong on any of our dates?”
“No.”
“Have I been too invasive with our date questions?”
“Yes!” But she laughs when she says it, so I know she’s not being serious.
“Why would I mislead you now? When I’m introducing you, someone who is important to me, to the other people in my life who are important to me?”
She shrugs her shoulders in response.
“Because I wouldn’t. Look at me.” She tilts her head back until she meets my eyes. “You are a witty and engaging conversationalist, with a great personality, and infectious smile. They can’t help but love you. Okay?”
She nods. “Okay.”
“And, if that fails, then just undo another button on your blouse. You’ll distract everyone at the table with your boob-alicious splendor and they’ll forget you can’t carry on a conversation.”
She laughs. “Boob-alicious splendor?”
“Hey, they distract me every time I’m trying to think clearly.”
Remi leans up and kisses me on the lips, a quick peck that is over too quickly. “Thank you for talking me down off the ledge like that.”
“Anytime, woman. Now let’s get in there. I’m hungry.” She shrieks as I slap her on the ass.
I knock on the front door instead of walking in so I can give my family a minute to disburse from the entry. But it doesn’t matter because my mom and all three sisters are still there when Mom opens the door. As is my dog Hudson, who my parents pick up to stay with them a few times a week when I work overnights. Or when I let them think I’m working overnights.
“Hello Chancey, dear,” my mom says, patting me on the cheek as she brushes past me to get to Remi. “You must be Remi. Look at you. Just beautiful.” She gives her a hug that Remi returns a little less enthusiastically. I did forget to mention that my family is big on hugs. Remi looks at me over my mom’s shoulder, her eyes wide and pleading.
“Ma, give her some space, we just got here.”
Mom steps back slightly. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Bauer.”
“Oh, you can call me Annalise, dear. Or Mom.”
Remi’s eyes grown round.
My sister, Audrey, steps in next to introduce herself and gives her a brief hug. Followed by my other two sisters, Eliza and Charlie. Hudson sits on the floor, waiting patiently, his tail thumping away at some excited beat in his head.
“Ok,” I tell him as a release and he comes running to us, immediately thrusting his head between Remi’s legs. At the same time, my sister Audrey asks, “So, how are the date questions working?”
I have a feeling she’s setting out to embarrass me.
Remi laughs awkwardly. “That was you?” She pets Hudson on the head, trying to subtly push him from between her legs. I snap my fingers and he heels at my side.
“They’re good and ma
ke for some interesting conversations,” Remi says. I pull her into my side and give her waist a squeeze. She looks up at me and smiles, I just can’t tell if the smile is relaxed or panicked.
“I love your outfit,” Eliza says. “Is that vintage? It’s amazing!” Remi smooths her hands down her skirt and nods. All I know is there’s a skirt and a shirt, both black and tight, and Remi looks amazing in them.
“Yes,” Remi says. “I found it in a store down on Mission Street called Second Chances.”
“I’ve been there,” Charlie says. “They have amazing stuff.”
“We should all go one afternoon,” Audrey says. “Leave Hailey with the boys and have a girls’ day.”
“Yes!” Eliza says.
“You just want a day without the baby,” Charlie teases Eliza.
“Duh,” Eliza says.
“Okay girls, let her get in the house,” my mom says. We make it through the entryway to the great room where the TV is so I can introduce her to my dad, Brian, and two brothers-in-law, Mike and Nate. My niece, Hailey, shrieks when she sees me and starts crawling toward us. I pick her up and swing her around, then blow raspberries on her belly until she squeals.
“I see you have the same wooing technique for all women, regardless of age,” Remi says. My family quiets and glances at one another. Remi’s eyes widen to an unnatural shape. She mouths something to me that I can’t quite decipher but looks a little like the word pepperoni.
My dad starts to laugh and says, “She’ll do just fine, son.” He pats her on the back as he says it. Remi stumbles forward a step. Dad’s a big guy and doesn’t always realize his own strength. I catch her in my arms and pull her to me as my mom and sisters dissolve into giggles. Hudson barks and runs in circles.
Remi pinches my side, I look down at her, and she looks back at me, a desperate look in her eyes. I lean down and whisper, “They fucking love you.” She relaxes a little against me and starts to laugh with everyone else.
That’s pretty much all it takes for my family to immediately bring her in as their own. Exclaiming how fantastic she is and how she fits in wonderfully. So, to prove her point, I grab Remi by the waist and blow raspberries on her belly until she squeals.
My mom and sisters swarm and pull Remi toward the kitchen area and begin twenty questions times four: asking about where she works, lives, what she does for fun, and anything else they can think of.