by SL Beabhar
"Why lavender?" he asked.
She opened the bottle and poured a few drops of oil into her palm. "It's soothing. Helps you get into a restful state of mind so you have a good night's sleep." As she rubbed her hands together, she moved to stand in front of him.
He sighed as her fingers sunk into his hair. She kneaded his scalp, running the edges of her nails against his skin. "That's nice."
"I used to do this for my sister." She moved her hands to press her thumbs against his temples. "It was the highlight of her week. I'd massage her just like this for about twenty minutes, then she'd beg me for five more minutes."
Pressing his nose against her belly, he could totally understand why her sister loved this so much. Her fingers were soft, yet she applied the right amount of pressure. He inhaled deeply, expecting his nose to be filled with the scent of lavender. Instead, he smelled the faint aroma of her clean-scented soap.
He wrapped his hands around her waist and exhaled, his breath brushing against her skin. Her fingers halted, and he expected her hands to fall away. To his delight, she wrapped her arms around his head and pressed him closer to her body.
"What am I doing?" she asked.
Ash didn't think the question was directed at him, so he chose not to answer. He slid his hands down over her hips until his fingers grazed her bare skin. Then, without hesitation, he ran his hands up her thighs and underneath her gown.
He hesitated at her hips, waiting for her to pull away. After several heartbeats, he pushed the gown up her body until she gripped its edges and pulled it over her head. He wanted to murmur words of encouragement, but he feared if he did, she would break free from this spell.
She rocked against him. His lips traced circles around her belly button, and her hands slid down to grip his shoulders.
He pulled her down on top of him so that she straddled his lap. Her hands ran up the column of his neck and grabbed fistfuls of his hair, pulling his head back. She then lowered her head, smiled, and flicked her tongue over his bottom lip.
He responded by opening his mouth, enjoying her exploration. His hands cupped her ass and pulled her against his hardness. As she deepened her kiss, he fumbled at the buttons of his jeans, then hooked his thumbs around the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her body.
"Please," she said, reaching between them and taking his cock into her hand. With his lips free, he brushed kisses along her shoulders. "You needn't worry about any surprises, and I don’t need any promises."
He wanted to draw this moment out longer. He wasn't foolish enough to expect this would be a regular occurrence, even if he hoped it would be. But she seemed to have a different idea.
She settled herself over him. Pressing herself against his cock, she moved in circles, teasing him. He could only bite down on his lip as she lowered herself.
"Please," she repeated, rocking against him.
She was tight. Like a vice-grip around his rock-hard length. He could feel her muscles stretching to accommodate his girth, but she only increased her pace.
He kissed the valley between her breasts and flicked his tongue along the curve of her breast. He nuzzled her skin until his mouth grazed the hardened pebble of her nipple.
Throwing her head back, she squeezed her eyes shut as she rode him. She gasped for air, and he felt an intense ripple of pleasure knowing that he was making her feel such ecstasy.
"You are everything," he whispered.
Her eyes opened wide. Her frantic pace pushed him over the edge. He felt her clutch him, wringing every ounce of his semen into her body as her orgasm erupted.
He expected a heavy sigh. Or perhaps a small cry. Instead, she brought her hand to her mouth and sunk her teeth deep into her skin. She bit down so hard that he feared she'd broken skin. She remained like that for a second as he watched the softness fade from her body and be replaced with hardness.
Ash reached out to touch her, but she slid from his lap. She covered her mouth with her hands, shook her head, then knelt down to grab her discarded nightgown.
"Phoebe," he murmured, pushing off the bed and adjusting his jeans.
She bolted into her bathroom and slammed the door behind her. He started to follow her, but then forced himself to acknowledge that she wanted to be alone. He shot a final glance towards the bathroom, before turning to open her bedroom door and stepping out into the dark hallway.
In his vast experience, he'd always been the one to walk away, and now he was feeling oddly bereft. As he made his way back to his bedroom, he realized that Reggie had gotten it wrong. It wasn't Phoebe who risked having her heart broken.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The alarm beeped in the background and had been for the last eight minutes. Phoebe laid on her back, staring up at the ceiling, dreading the start of her day. She'd heard Ash leave the house nearly thirty minutes ago, but that didn't make her feel any better.
It wasn't just him that she dreaded seeing. She was also reluctant to encounter Reggie.
Groaning with annoyance, Phoebe pulled the pillow from beneath her head and pressed it against her face. She didn't bother to scream. She knew it wouldn't help her out of this mess. It just felt good to hide from the truth, even if only for a minute or two.
How was she going to last five years? She'd crossed the line, and she wasn't sure there was any going back. Every time they encountered each other, she would think about last night and how lovely it had felt to be with him.
Realizing she needed to get up and help Reggie with her morning medication regimen, Phoebe rolled onto her side and switched off the alarm clock. She tossed aside the covers, then sat on the edge of the bed. She swiped the back of her hand over her eyes, pushed to her feet, and stumbled to her bathroom.
Over the next twenty minutes, Phoebe rushed through her morning routine. She took a quick shower, swiftly scrubbing her body clean and washing her long, thick hair. Once finished, she coiled her hair on top of her head and escaped from the steamy room.
When she finished dressing, she trotted down the stairs and walked to the back hallway that led to Reggie's bedroom. She knocked on the door, waited until she heard Reggie's gravelly voice, then turned the knob.
Reggie sat in her wheelchair, clutching a cigarette between her fingers. An ashtray was perched on her lap, and a sad smile curved her lips.
"You're up late," she said, sticking the cigarette back into her mouth. She grabbed onto the wheels and propelled herself forward. "You look like you didn't get much sleep."
Phoebe lowered her gaze. Walking around Reggie, she grabbed the handles of the wheelchair. "No walker today?"
Reggie twisted her head so she could look at Phoebe. "I overdid it yesterday." She turned back around as Phoebe began to push her through the doorway of her bedroom. "I should have let you grab that electric cart."
"Well, we'll know for next time." Phoebe took her to the bathroom door. Reggie managed to open the door, then she pushed herself from the seat and crept into the bathroom.
"I'll be right here," Phoebe said.
Reggie waved her hand, closing the door in Phoebe's face. As per their usual routine, Phoebe lurked at the door, listening to Reggie brush her teeth, wash her face, and take her shower. When the shower ended, Phoebe pushed open the door and stepped inside.
They completed the rest of Reggie's routine in silence. Phoebe left the bathroom to grab the wheelchair and wait for Reggie. Once Reggie was settled in the seat, Phoebe pushed Reggie into the kitchen and placed her at her usual spot at the breakfast table.
"I'm sorry. I try to have your breakfast ready by the time you're through with the shower." Phoebe opened the fridge, and grabbed a carton of eggs and gallon of orange juice. She bumped the door closed and walked to Reggie. "The bright side? We've got juice."
"And bacon," Reggie said, holding out her glass for Phoebe to fill. "I'd like some bacon."
Phoebe poured her own serving of juice, then returned the juice to the fridge. She removed the turkey bacon and
the pint of blackberries she'd picked up at the store. She wrapped the bacon in paper towels, then popped it into the microwave. As it cooked, she rinsed the blackberries. Setting them aside, she turned on the stove and quickly scrambled an egg.
"Are you going to mope all day?" asked Reggie.
Phoebe looked over to the table and found Reggie twisted in her chair. "I'm sorry--"
"For fuck's sakes, I don't want to hear another apology." Reggie pointed at the microwave. "Don't let my bacon burn."
Phoebe lurched the microwave open, grabbed the bacon, and placed the strips on the plate. She added a handful of blackberries and the scrambled egg, then carried the plate to the table.
Reggie took her breakfast from Phoebe's hand. As she lowered the plate to the table, she studied Phoebe's face. "Nothing for you?"
Phoebe lifted her glass of orange juice. "This is good enough."
Reggie released a sigh, then she grabbed a slice of bacon from her plate and held it out to Phoebe. "Eat."
"I don't usually eat breakfast."
"That's stupid." Reggie thrust the bacon towards Phoebe's mouth. "You need to eat. Now take this bacon." Her hand quivered, but she never lowered her arm. She continued to wait until Phoebe took the bacon from her hand and bit into it. "Good." Reggie grabbed her fork and cut into her eggs. "I don't want to hear about you skipping breakfast any longer."
"I've been doing it for years, Reggie. I usually drink a cup of coffee."
Reggie tossed a berry into her mouth and chewed. "If I'd known you weren't eating, I would have said something sooner. I always assumed you ate before you came to my room."
Phoebe smiled but said nothing. She finished the bacon, then wiped her hands on a napkin. "What would you like to do today?"
Reggie looked at Phoebe over the rim of her tortoise-shell glasses. "I figured you'd like to talk."
"About what?"
Reggie squinted an eye, then shook her head. She chuckled low in her throat. "I figured we could talk about that unused box of condoms."
Phoebe's mouth fell open. Reggie reached out, placed her finger beneath Phoebe's chin, and pushed it closed.
"Ain't gonna deny it?" Reggie asked.
Phoebe felt her pulse accelerate. She placed her palms against the cool surface of the table. "What do you think happened?"
Reggie laughed outright. "I know what happened."
"All right then." Phoebe searched Reggie's face, expecting to see either anger or disgust. To her surprise, she saw neither emotion. "It was a mistake."
"Was it?"
Phoebe nodded. "It won't happen again."
"Bullshit." Reggie looked at Phoebe from the corner of her eye as she picked up her glass of orange juice. "I see the way you look at him." She took a sip. "And I see the way he looks at you."
Phoebe lowered her eyes, not knowing how to respond. She'd been so wrapped up in what Reggie was saying that she hadn't noticed how much Reggie had eaten. She pointed down at the plate. "You ate it all."
"Yep." Reggie nodded.
"I don't think you've finished an entire plate of food before."
"You ain't never served bacon before." Reggie grabbed her napkin and wiped her mouth. "You keep serving bacon, and I'll keep eating it." She grimaced. "Even if it's some shitty ass turkey."
"Turkey bacon is better for you."
"Who says? Them damn quacks? They change their mind just as quickly as the wind blows." Reggie wheeled back from the table. She was about to turn away when she shot another glance in Phoebe's direction. "I want you to know that I don't think it's your fault. My nephew's always been free with his affections." She screwed up a corner of her mouth. "He's a handsome devil, and he knows how to work his charm. I've seen him run through a bunch of girlfriends, bolting away before they're able to sink their claws fully into him." She shook her head, then reached out to place a hand against Phoebe's cheek. "I like you. I didn't think I would, but I do. Don't let that man run over you, girl." She withdrew her hand, then took hold of her wheels and spun herself around. As she departed, she said over her shoulder, "You're a smart girl with a good heart. So don't let my dumbass nephew break it."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ash stood outside the kitchen, lingering in the hallway as he watched Phoebe prepare their dinner. He could hear the television blaring from Reggie's room, and he suspected his aunt was taking her late afternoon nap. He could have made himself known, calling out Phoebe's name or stepping into the brightly lit kitchen. But he didn't. He hung back and grappled with the complicated emotions surging through him.
He wanted her to look up and see him. He wanted the solemn look on her face to dissipate into a smile when she noticed him. He wanted to know that he unnerved her just as much as she unnerved him.
He waited, praying to see happiness blossom on her face. He promised himself if she simply showed that she wanted him, he would walk across the room and gather her into his arms.
When she finally looked up, her eyes were dark and heavy with her thoughts. He stepped into the light and dropped his hands to his sides. His eyes scanned her body, savoring every curve and every hollow.
Phoebe looked towards the microwave and picked up a cloth to wipe her hands. "You're home early."
Ash removed his service cap and placed it on the counter. He unbuttoned his top coat, then shook off the droplets of rain. "I had a dentist appointment, so I took the afternoon off." Folding his coat over his arm, he walked to where she stood and peered over her shoulder. "What are you making?" It was a simple question, and he knew his presence seemed nonthreatening. But his intentions were less innocent. He wanted to be near her. He wanted to feel the heat from her body, to smell her fresh clean scent.
She didn't seem bothered by his nearness as she was focused on her task. She trimmed the fat from a chicken thigh, then cut the meat into narrow strips before dropping it into a bowl. "I'm trying a new recipe. My sister and I loved going to this Creole restaurant back in Indy. She used to order the shrimp etouffee while I always ordered the jambalaya."
He laughed, knowing the recipe called for spicy Andouille sausage which Reggie hated. He slung his coat over one of the bar stools. "I hope you have a backup plan."
Up until this point, she hadn't made direct eye contact with him. Her eyes either focused on the food or glanced at some spot just beyond where he stood.
"I put aside one of the boneless chicken thighs for Reggie. I'm thinking of just grilling it and pairing it with a spinach salad." She pulled the canister of rice forward, opened it, and grabbed the measuring cup from inside. "Maybe she'd like some rice, too."
Phoebe made to turn away, but Ash grabbed onto her arm. She looked down at his hand, then lifted her eyes to meet his. He searched their depths, hoping to see a trace of welcome.
When she only smiled sadly and pulled her arm away, he stepped back. He hardened his features and steeled his emotions. He felt utterly foolish. So totally unlike himself. As she moved away, he tried to analyze why he reacted to her so differently than the women he typically dealt with.
"What do you have in mind for dessert?" he asked, leaning against the counter. Lowering his eyes, he stared intently at his feet. "I see we still don't have cookie dough."
She removed a can of diced tomatoes from the pantry, then walked to where he stood. A grin flashed across her face as she patted his belly. "Reggie thinks you're gaining too much weight."
He sucked in a breath as he felt her hand against his body. He knew the gesture was done dismissively, but it had the effect of pooling blood in his lower extremities. "Well, she's partially right. I did gain five pounds, mostly from stress, I think. But I've already dropped three, and I'm pretty sure I'll drop the rest in no time."
As if sensing his physical reaction, she withdrew her hand. She glanced over her shoulder towards the hallway that led to Reggie's room, then she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. "We should probably talk about last night."
"We don't have to talk about it, if yo
u don't want to." He stiffened and pushed away from the counter. Turning to the fridge, he opened a door and grabbed a water bottle from the shelf. He pulled the cap off, then took a sip. "It's no big deal."
"No big deal?" She placed a pan on the stove and turned on the burner. "You seem angry."
"I'm not angry." Yes. He was. But he was also disappointed. "I don't think we should make much more of it than what it was."
She watched him from the corner of her eye as she stirred the chicken in the frying pan. "And what was it?"
He envied her serenity. "Phoebe, we had sex. Nothing more. Nothing less."
She nodded. "Right."
"Right."
"You should know that there won't be any mishaps," she said, lowering her voice, "I'm on the pill."
It was like a kick to his gut. He hadn't thought about protection. Not before, during, or after. "Good looking out."
Phoebe made a fist and struck it against the countertop. The pace of her breathing had quickened, and she glared in his direction. For a few silent seconds, she simply stood there, looking at him. Then she shook her head, and reached over to turn off the burner.
"I've suddenly lost my appetite," she said, backing away from the oven. She turned her back on him, walking to the table where her purse sat. She grabbed it and placed the strap over her arm. She reached inside, pulled out her wallet, and counted her available cash. Satisfied, she turned to walk from the kitchen.
He followed behind her, which only served to hasten her departure. She had her hand on the front door when he called, "What about Reggie's dinner?"
"Fix it yourself." She opened the door just enough to slide through and pulled the door closed behind her. He heard her feet pound the steps seconds before the clunky engine of her car turned on.
"Well you handed that badly."
Ash spun on his heel and found Reggie standing a few feet away. She was leaning against her cane with a cigarette dangling from her mouth.