The Super: A Bad Boy Romance

by Connor, Anne

  “It’s nice to meet you, Toby. So, what is it that you do? Are you in real estate like Drew? Finance? Law?”

  “Nah. I’m a middle-school math teacher.”

  Toby pushes his hair away from his forehead and smiles at my girl. She cocks her head to the side and looks a little puzzled.

  “But...clients? Getting them into bed? Isn’t that code for getting them into some juicy deal? Something secret?”

  “Let me rephrase. When I say clients, I mean my kids. I think I work harder for them than Drew’s ever worked for one of his clients.”

  “Yeah,” I add, “and when he says he got them into bed, he means he literally gave them their dinner and tucked them into bed.”

  “And here I was, expecting some corporate espionage,” Molly says.

  “That what you want, Mol?” I ask, opening the door on the side of the helicopter for her.

  “I don’t know, Drew. Do you think I’d be any good at it?”

  She slides into the seat and I get in after her, closing the door and giving a thumbs-up to Toby through the window.

  “Actually, I do. I think you have a lot of business savvy. You know how to deal with people. You’d have to, if you work at a newspaper.”

  “I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be working there, to be honest.”

  “Oh? You finally doing your reevaluation? In my world, we call it an operational overhaul.”

  “Yeah. Something like that.”

  Something in her voice changes.

  “Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it,” I say.

  “It’s not your fault. It’s just that I’m not so sure I want to work at a newspaper anymore. I guess you actually helped me to figure that out.”

  “If that’s the case, then I’m glad I could help.”

  “You’re just different from any guy I’ve dated before, Drew. You know that. Look at me.”

  The helicopter’s propellers speed up and we lift off the ground. It’s still my favorite part. I’ve been in the copter so many times, and I’ve even driven it a few times. But the take-off, the moment when you leave the earth and ascend to a new height, is always still the most exciting part.

  I grab Molly’s hand and squeeze it tight.

  “I highly doubt that I’m very different than the guys you’ve dated before. Let me guess the profile of the guys you’ve dated. I already know you love nerds, so the guys all have glasses. I wear contacts, myself, so that’s not much of a departure for you.”

  “Okay, yes. I like a guy in a cute pair of specs.”

  “And the guys you’ve dated are driven but sometimes a little confused.”

  “But that’s not you, Drew. Maybe that’s the guys I’ve dated, but that’s how you differ from them.”

  She looks away from me and casts her gaze out the window at the lights below us quickly falling away.

  “What were the other guys confused about?”

  I see her chest rise and fall in a wistful sigh.

  “Me.”

  She turns her attention to me and slumps down in her seat, her eyes cast into her lap. She picks at her nails nervously.

  “That’s not possible. No guy could ever be confused about you.”

  “My ex. He was. He said he wanted to move to California. So he did. And if he really wanted to be with me, he could have stayed.”

  “I’m sorry, Molly. I had no idea. But that guy is a piece of crap.”

  “He’s just a little bit immature. He went to California because he didn’t like New York weather anymore.”

  “To be honest, I can see his point.”

  Her expression softens and she looks at me with sympathy. It’s as though she’s comforting me, somehow. But I should be the one comforting her.

  “I don’t know,” Molly says. “That’s part of what I like about New York. The weather. It can be unpredictable. I love it.”

  “That makes sense coming from you.”

  She turns to look out the window again and nestles back into my chest.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re a planner. You like order. If you find something you can’t control, then you like it to be a little wild. There’s no way you’re going to be able to harness the weather, babe, so you like that it’s out of control.”

  “Look at us, talking about the weather. I don’t know if this feels like a first date or a thousandth date.”

  “It doesn’t matter. And don’t try to change the subject.”

  She tenses up in my arms, but I slip my hands onto her shoulders and she relaxes a little.

  “Maybe you’re right. I do like things to be just-so.”

  “You’ve got everything, babe. Just take a breather. You don’t have to figure everything out right this second. Just breathe and think about what you want to do next.”

  “That might already be determined for me, you know. I saw some guys in the building. My neighbor, Mrs. M., said she thinks they want to buy the building. You don’t know anything about that, do you?”

  So she does know. I’m disappointed. I don’t want her to be hurt, and I know moving would be a huge pain in the ass for her. But even if Lee gave a good price to Rich, I’m sure he won’t want to sell.

  “Actually, yeah. Just between us, I saw the guys in the building and I happen to know them. It’s the firm that Eric and I have this stupid dispute with right now. But I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I know the owner, and I don’t think he wants to sell.”

  “I hope not. A lot of the people in the building have memories there. It would be a shame to see the building made into something else.”

  I pull her in close me to. We’re high above the city now, and moving East, over the ocean.

  “Let me take you away, Molly. Let’s go across the pond. You ever been to London?”

  “Nope. Never been to Europe.”

  “You want to go?” I ask, pulling her closer.

  “I’ve always wanted to. I hear that London is a lot like New York.”

  “It’s true. But even older, if you can believe there’s any place that’s older and has more history than New York.

  “There’s lots of places older than New York. Ever hear of the pyramids? The cloisters? The colosseum?” she asks. “I guess I’m just nostalgic for the place I love.”

  I wrap my arms around her more firmly. She’s soft and fits me perfectly.

  “You really mean it about wanting to take me away from it all?” she asks, reaching back and touching my face.

  I lean down to kiss her plush, pink lips, high above the city.

  “Yeah. I really mean it.”

  24. Molly

  “Get in the car,” Drew commands, honking the horn of his Mustang as he pulls up in front of my building.

  It’s Friday afternoon, and he’s taking me upstate to his mom’s house.

  It’s not like me to meet a guy’s mom so soon. Drew and I have only been dating for a week.

  Shit. When did we start dating? Was it the first time he knocked on the door of my apartment, pretending to be someone else, and he brashly told me I was his new girlfriend?

  Was he even pretending? Or did he really become a guy who works in a low-key building out in the boroughs?

  The ride to his mom’s house is beautiful. He has the windows down and the radio loud and the soft breeze of the late afternoon whips my hair around my shoulder, kissing my neck.

  When we get to the house, he parks the car in the narrow gravel driveway.

  I’m a little bit surprised by the condition of the house. It’s older than I imagined, and it’s a little rough around the edges.

  A very chic older woman comes to the front door and waves to us.

  “Hello! Finally, you made it! I’ve been waiting for you since last weekend.”

  “Mom, you’ve got to stop being so obsessed with me.”

  Drew bounds up the stairs to the door and embraces his mom in a big hug. I can see the family resemblance, but hi
s mom looks a little bit more like Eric than she does like Drew. His mom and Eric are a little bit more petite, and Drew is more muscular and built.

  “Molly?” His mom puts out both of her arms to me, as though she’s been waiting to meet me for more than just a few days.

  “Hi! Mrs. Anderson, I am very happy to meet you.”

  Drew’s mom embraces me and rocks me from side to side a few times, like she’s just been reunited with a long-lost child. She smells of mint and garlic, and I can smell a red sauce cooking in the house.

  The three of us enter, Drew holding the door for me and his mom.

  “Okay. I’m getting to work. Let the man do his thing. You two can talk about manicures, or whatever it is that girls talk about.”

  “Drew promised to help me fix up the house a little bit,” Mrs. Anderson explains. “I’ve lived here by myself for so long, and I have a neighbor who helps me out with little odds and ends, but Drew is going to fix a few things before I put the house on the market.”

  “You already know this, but I do have to agree that your son is very handy,” I say, sitting down on the couch with Mrs. Anderson, taking in the home.

  It’s very different from the house I grew up in. Growing up, my family lived in a rent-controlled unit in a large elevator building.

  Instead of a breeze coming through the front door and whipping through the house, bringing with it the scent of soil and freshly cut grass, we had the smells of the city.

  Our home was filled with mementos and tchotchkes and souvenirs. Mrs. Anderson’s home is filled with all of the memories she kept with her through her life - the boys’ football trophies are displayed in a China cabinet in the living room, along with a collection of snowglobes she has lined up beside them.

  Small things make up this space, and so much goodness is wrapped up in all of it.

  Even though it’s the first time I’m visiting, I feel a little sad to know that she’s selling it.

  “Handy?” Drew interrupts my daydream. “You called me handy in front of my mom? Wow, you really will say anything, won’t you?”

  “Don’t pay any attention to him,” Mrs. Anderson says, getting up and disappearing into another room. “Coffee or tea for you, Molly?”

  “Whatever you’re having,” I call after her.

  “So, what do you think of the place?” Drew says, plopping down in a chair next to the couch.

  “What, did you build it, or something?”

  “No. Hardly. This place is old. Older than me.”

  “Well, I like it just the same.”

  “It’s a shame she wants to sell.”

  “Why did she never move to the city?”

  Mrs. Anderson pads back into the room with a tray of tea cups and a pretty floral China teapot.

  “Never liked the city,” she says. “Too many people. It gets too lonely.”

  “I always wanted her to come, but she stayed up here, instead,” Drew says, pouring hot water into each of the teacups.

  “But I have two good boys. They always came up to visit their ma,” Mrs. Anderson says, looking at her oldest son lovingly.

  “This is the attic, in case you couldn’t tell. I just want to grab a few things.”

  After a wonderful dinner of baked ziti, homemade by Mrs. Anderson, Drew shows me the house and the grounds.

  The house sits on 50 acres of property, with its nearest neighboring home a quarter of a mile away. Drew is optimistic that the home will sell fast, and for a good price, after he makes some minor upgrades to it and corrects some of the issues a home that old would inevitably face.

  “You ever sneak girls up here?” I ask, walking around the nearly empty room.

  “Actually, no. You’d think I would have, because I’m such a player, right?”

  Drew sits down on a couch against one of the attic walls and pats the seat next to him.

  “I have to say that is the reputation you have, Drew Anderson.”

  “What’s a reputation?” he asks, grabbing a football from a box next to the couch. “It’s just what other people perceive about you. But let me ask you something, Molly.” He tosses the ball back into the box and turns to face me. “What is it that you perceive? Forget my reputation.”

  There are no lights on in the attic, but the bright moonlight shines through a window and illuminates Drew’s face in its glow. He looks as good as he always does, but seeing him in this place throws him into a new light.

  He’s infuriatingly hot. I definitely perceive that about him.

  “I perceive that you know what you want.”

  He slips a finger under the strap of my tank top, and presses it against my shoulder, slowly slipping the strap down.

  “That’s not a matter of reputation, baby. That’s something you’ve been able to observe about me, isn’t it?”

  My breath catches in my throat.

  “It’s both.”

  “What else?”

  His lips come down upon my shoulder and place a few light kisses upon it.

  “I perceive that you aren’t afraid to go after what you want.”

  He pulls me into his lap and I straddle him, his erection pressing against me. His lips engulf mine, his mouth hungrily searching mine, his tongue sweeping past my parted lips.

  An impossible rush of heat and light invade me, my mind spinning, searching for answers.

  I don’t even know what the questions are

  Because all I know now is that being with Drew just feels right. He makes me feel giddy and excited and safe and protected all at once.

  He scoops my ass up with both hands and scoots me forward on his lap.

  “Is this alright?” he asks, his voice in a low growl.

  “Yeah. More than alright.”

  He undoes the buckle of my belt and slowly unzips and unbuttons my jeans, slipping a hand into my panties.

  I’m already aching for him. Feeling him against me, even though we are both clothed, makes me feel dizzy with desire.

  He grasps at his jeans and undoes them. He gently guides me away from him and slips my pants down to my ankles, and in response, I kick them off my legs and onto the floor. He slips my panties off and they land on the heap of clothing.

  He pulls me back into his lap and slips his hand into the pocket of his jacket, draped over the couch.

  He takes out a condom, along with a small wooden box.

  “Hey, what is that?”

  “Come on. You’ve seen a condom before. I know you have,” he says, with his signature Drew Anderson smile and sarcasm.

  “Not that, Drew. This.” I take the box from him and run my hands over the smooth wood. “What is this?”

  “That?” He scratches the side of his face and puts a palm on his cheek, looking down at the box. “That’s just a little something I made in high school. It’s nothing.”

  “I guess you really are handy, then. The work on this is beautiful. I didn’t know you were a carpenter.”

  “Just a hobbyist. I gave it to mom back when I made it. She kept my medals in it. But she gave it to me when she decided to move. That’s why the attic is empty. I’ve already hauled a lot of junk out of here.”

  “This is not junk. This is lovely.” I look into his his eyes. The moon outside the window has moved, illuminating now his chest, his perfect washboard abs on display, his strong arms holding me in the moonlight. “Everything here is lovely. You helped build it.”

  “I tried. I tried to be there for mom after the divorce. But I wanted to prove something to my father. To myself.”

  “So you made it your singular mission to make something of yourself, huh?”

  I open the box. It’s finished on the inside with dark red velvet and a simple gold clasp.

  “Yeah. I guess I did. But it’s all bullshit. I guess I never realized that when you make something of yourself, everyone wants a piece of you.” He draws in his breath sharply and then exhales. “But not you. You never wanted a piece of me.”

  Everything
seems to come into sharp focus, even in the dull blur of the moonlight.

  “You’re right, Drew. I didn’t want a piece of you. Just like I didn’t want a piece of the city. I wanted all of it.”

  Drew takes the box from me and slips it back into his pocket. He tears the gold condom wrapper and slips the shield onto himself, gliding it all way down to the base in one quick motion.

  He guides my body down onto his, slowly, until he’s all the way inside me, before he starts to rock his hips against mine.

  My breasts hang free against his chest, our bodies moving together to the rhythm he sets. With each rock of his hips, my hair swings against his shoulders, his hands grasping at me and gliding along each inch of my body.

  It all feels so right.

  He was right about everything. He was right about what I wanted, and he helped push me toward realizing it.

  I speed up to match his tempo, and our bodies move in unison, his thick cock sliding in and out of me, rocking me to the core.

  “I want you to come, Molly. You look so fucking beautiful right now.”

  His body crashes with mine, his cock expanding inside of me. The heat within me radiates out from my core, into my limbs, my fingertips, the fire between us invading my body.

  I feel a crest of pleasure overcoming me as the dark room goes white behind my eyes, Drew’s breath fast upon my lips, our hearts racing toward the finish line.

  I lean back and moan as pure pleasure overtakes my body.

  “Come for me, Molly. I need you.”

  His hands cup my breasts as he moves inside me, pulling every last ounce of pleasure from my flesh.

  25. Molly

  “Good job with those summaries.”

  Natasha sits down in the empty chair next to me and slides over to my workspace. It isn’t yet 9:00, and the editorial assistant who sits next to me, Ashley, isn’t in yet.

  “Thank you! Yeah, I tried. You were right, with the first line being a good way to summarize.”

  “But you went above and beyond. You didn’t just grab the first line in the articles. You put a little bit of extra thought and effort into it.”

  She glides back over to the neighboring workspace and gets up, sliding the chair back into position.