by Roxy Queen
He stands, pulling me with him and we both jump in the water, washing off the dirt and sweat from the night.
Chapter Eleven
“Well, well, well,” Shelly says the next morning from the doorway of the cabin. Henry and I are wrapped around one another, sleeping under a thin sheet. We’ve got our clothes on, well I’m in a tank and pajama shorts. Henry’s shirtless in a pair of cotton shorts. “That explains a lot.”
I blink, trying to open my eyes in the bright sunlight, while Henry rubs his face and hides his eyes behind my back. Guess he’s not embarrassed. Frankly, I’m not either. Maybe I would be if she’d known what we’d done by the pool or much later in this very bed, but she doesn’t. That’s between me and Henry.
“Explains what?” I ask, shielding my eyes. Shelly flops on her bed and it creaks under her weight. She looks rough and worn out from the night before.
“Why you two volunteered to come up here and why Tate ditched. Plus you two volunteering to work last night,” she says with a knowing smirk. “Like you were doing me some kind of favor.”
“Tate pulled rank and made us come up here.” Of course, I now know he sent us up here to get us out of his hair with Lisa, but again, she doesn’t know that. “Plus, he doesn’t even know about me and Henry.”
“Well, it definitely explains why you turned down Jackson Stevens. And why—, “ she narrows her eyes behind me, at Henry’s sleeping form. “Never mind.”
Dealing with Shelly’s vague comments isn’t how I want to spend my morning. My first morning after sleeping with Henry. He’s ignoring Shelly completely, pressing his body (and parts of his body) against my back. She must decide we’re not worth the time, because without another word, she gathers her stuff and heads to the shower.
Once I hear the water start, I roll over and face Henry. His eyes are closed but his tiny smile lets me know he’s awake. “Care to share what that’s about?” I ask.
His smile turns to a grimace and he slowly opens his eyes. Henry Fletcher’s blue eyes first thing in the morning. Swoon. “She had plans to hook up with Tate this weekend.”
“Obviously.”
He rolls over to his back and looks at the underneath of the top bunk. “I think she thought she could switch that over to me when she realized he wasn’t coming.”
“Why would she think that?”
“We may have hooked up—not slept together,” he clarifies, “but hooked up once or twice.”
“Ew—after Tate?”
“Before Tate,” he says.
“Gross.”
“I’ve known her since freshman year. She even has this on and off again thing with Charlie.” He burrows his face in my neck and his lips start to roam over the sensitive skin. “Can we stop talking about her now?”
“I guess,” I say. I’ve already moved my hands to his waist. I’m not jealous of Shelly. I can tell—no feel—how much Henry wants me. “What should we do about Tate?” I ask. “Everyone else knows.”
“I say we play it cool and see how it goes. Nothing obvious. He’ll be pissed when he finds out.”
“I guess if he can’t make out at work we can’t either,” I say. “Stupid rules.”
Henry laughs. “It’s your own fault, you know, you made them.”
“How was I supposed to know this would happen?” I ask, but the way he looks at me makes me think I was a fool to not consider it. Henry and I are a done deal.
Keeping our hands off one another becomes a challenge when we get back home and to work. Having sex only lit the fire between us, and two days later we’re avoiding contact while working our positions at the pool. By avoiding, I mean obsessively watching one another and sneaking touches whenever Tate isn’t looking. I’m starting to think we should all just come clean.
“No,” Tate says when I suggest he tell Henry what’s going on between him and Lisa. “No one can know.”
“Well, I know.”
“Yeah and it’s not good.”
“What’s the big deal? You’re fucking an older woman.” He appears started at my language, but I shrug, refusing to think of it as anything else. “No one cares.”
“I care,” he says, looking a little upset. “You can’t tell.”
“I’m not a blabbermouth,” I tell him, walking back to my chair. I pass Lisa on the way, her sitting with her back to the pool so she can chat with her other mom friends. Unbelievably, for a woman with two kids, she has tight, washboard abs and the obnoxious smirk she wears when I walk by is enough to make my blood boil. Why does she have to be such a jerk about it? Does she think I’m jealous?
“What’s wrong,” Henry asks when he sees my still-frustrated expression during the next adult swim.
“That Lisa chick rubs me wrong,” I tell him.
He glances over to where she’s begun setting out dinner on one of the patio tables. Tate’s and I have the closing shift, but he’ll most likely eat dinner with her, like every other night lately. “She’s pretty comfortable,” he agrees. “Maybe Tate’s sleeping with her anyway.”
I bite my lip to keep from saying anything. Henry doesn’t press it, though. “I’ll see you tonight?” he asks. “Syd and Charlie invited some friends over, want to hang?”
What I want is hours of naked time with him, but we’re in no rush. “Yeah, I clean up and come down around nine.”
Lisa spreads her dinner out on the table and to my surprise a tall, handsome man walks into the pool. He’s wearing comfortable clothes but no bathing suit and his face lights up when he sees Lisa.
“Who’s that,” I ask Tate. Tate’s face turns pale and I whisper, “Holy shit,” under my breath.
Lisa stands and gives the man a kiss on the cheek and the kids scramble to hug him. Yep. Daddy’s here.
“I thought she was divorced?”
“Yeah, about that,” he says. “She’s not exactly divorced. Not yet.” This whole situation is just getting worse and worse. The obvious guilt on Tate’s face confirms that fact he knew about the husband. I’m weighing my options when he says, “You’ve got to help me.”
“No, I don’t.”
“I’m serious Pip, her husband is on to us and he can’t find out.”
“Well then, stop fucking his wife,” I say. “This is why you took me to that party right? And hung out at my house? You weren’t taking a break at all. You just needed a buffer from the sorority girls.”
Tate runs his hands over his face. “I wasn’t using you if that’s what you’re implying.”
“That’s exactly what I’m implying and I have the feeling you’re about to do it again.” Same old narcissistic, self-absorbed, douchey Tate. I feel like an idiot.
“Zadie, I’m serious when I say I love her. Honestly, I’ve been in love with her since the beginning of the summer. It’s why I started hanging out with you and not at the frat house. It’s one of the reasons I took you to the superhero party. I didn’t want other girls hitting on me.”
Wow.
“Things are complicated though and she needs time to figure things out,” he continues. “If you’ll just do one thing for me it will all be okay and he’ll stop digging around.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“He’ll take her kids. The money, the house. She’ll have nothing.”
I want to argue that her husband has every right to do those things but Tate turns those green eyes on me and pouts his lips and he looks so desperate I find myself caving. Stupid Tate and his damn Jedi Mind Trick. “Tate…” I’ve got nothing else to say.
“Look, all you have to do is just pretend to be my girlfriend? Maybe that way he’ll back off a little.”
Tate Christensen wants to be my fake boyfriend and Henry Fletcher wants to be my real boyfriend. What alternate universe have I stumbled into? “Just this once?”
He can’t even fight the smile of victory. “Yes, just tonight. We’ll go over. I’ll introduce you. Maybe a kiss on the cheek and done.”
I sigh and look at the happy
family across the pool, eating pasta salad and fruit. “Once, but you’ve got to knock it off, okay?”
He looks relived for the first time since Lisa’s husband arrives and gives me a big bear hug, lifting me off the ground. “Thank you,” he says into my ear. “You won’t regret it.”
There’s that word again and I’m starting to wonder how great a philosophy it is. Regardless, I follow Tate to the shelter and plaster a smile on my face. His fingers slip between mine and I can’t help but notice the missing spark that I have with Henry.
“Tate,” Lisa says with a forced grin. “You’ve met my husband, Eric, right?”
“Sure, you came by a couple weeks ago and we met then.” Tate offers his hand.
“Nice to see you,” Eric says cordially.
“Have you met my girlfriend, Zadie?” Tate says. Lisa doesn’t even flinch. “She works here also.”
“No,” Eric says, giving me a bit warmer smile. If he’s suspicious he doesn’t show it. “Must be fun working with each other.”
“Zadie’s a lucky girl,” Lisa says. She’s so disgusting. Out of spite, I place a possessive hand on Tate’s chest.
“The luckiest,” I say.
Tate worms his arm around my waist and pulls me tight. I pinch his back but he’s made of muscles and he doesn’t loosen his grip. Jerk.
I make a big show of checking the time and say, “Oh look, break is over. I better get back to work.” I smile nicely at everyone and attempt to make a break. Tate has other ideas and bends down and kisses me. I’m stunned into some sort of hazy submission. He tries to slip me the tongue and I push back on his chest, using my utter embarrassment to the benefit of this charade.
“Not at work, babe,” I say, narrowing my eyes and managing to wiggle out of his arms. I feel the scrutiny of everyone at the table and make my escape, wondering what I’ve gotten myself into. Just this once, I remind myself. It better be, because I can’t imagine Henry being okay with another one of those kisses.
*
Consumed by the stress of too many secrets, I willingly join in the circle at Henry’s that night. It’s the first time I’ve smoked with his roommates, but they’re laid back and easy to get along with. To my surprise, Shelly was huddled close to Charlie on the couch when I walked in. When I lifted an eyebrow in question Henry just shrugged and kissed me on the mouth.
“You taste like candy,” he says, kissing me again. Out of guilt and disgust I’d come home from work and brushed my teeth twice. Then I sucked on several pieces of hard candy.
His tongue lingers in my mouth and the pit of my stomach flip flops.
“How was closing?” he asks, pulling me down into his lap. The television is on a black and white movie. I notice subtitles at the bottom. Apparently Charlie is the film major who watches anything and everything he can get his hands on. No genre is off limits. I can’t figure out what this one is about, but at least it’s not porn.
“Uneventful,” I lie. “Same old, same old.”
The boys talk some and I try to remain neutral to Shelly, even though she seems to watch our every move. Her interest makes me uncomfortable, but I realize I need to get over it. According to Henry she’s harmless, so I decide to play nice.
“How’s camp?” I ask.
“Pretty good. I had a couple of days off so I came home.”
“You live in the sorority house?”
“Nah, I have an apartment with some other girls.” She reaches in her pocket and pulls out her phone.
“Smile,” she says, holding up her camera. I’ve loosened up enough to pose with Henry. I laugh while he nibbles on my ear, the sensation flaring up and down my body. She photographs everyone else, including a dozen of herself making various poses.
“I like your necklace,” she says, while Henry repacks the bowl on the table next to us. “See how cool it looks with this filter?”
I take her camera and flip through the photos. She does have a neat filter, making everything vivid and bright. “So no one cares if you hang who you hang with? Like Greeks or non-Greeks?” I ask, handing it back to her.
“Eh, not really. We have required events and stuff but otherwise no one cares much.” Charlie lays his arm around her neck. She responds by nuzzling into his side. I get the desire for closeness because the weed is making my skin sensitive and every time Henry brushes against me I have to fight the urge to pounce on him.
My battle stops the third time the pipe comes around, Henry turns me around, positioning me so that I’m straddling his lap, legs bent in the chair. “What?” I ask, laughing at the determined set of his jaw.
He kisses me, wetting my lips before takes a hit from the bowl. When he leans forward, I welcome it, pressing my mouth to his. He shotguns the smoke directly into my lungs and I feel the vague burn in my chest. I hold it, or I think I do, because once his mouth connects with mine, my mind and body give into hazy desire.
Henry doesn’t stop kissing me when the smoke is gone, leaning us both over to hand the pipe to someone else. I lift up, trying to reach him better, and I feel the pressure of his fingers digging into my lower back.
“Dude,” Syd’s voice carries through the fog and we separate. I look over my shoulder at the two smirking guys and a wide-eyed Shelly playing with her phone.
“Get a room or knock it off,” he says with his head lazily on the couch.
I pull away, embarrassed. Henry shrugs and stands, lifting me in the air with his arms. He almost drops me, because I’m not ready for his quick movement. I manage to fling my arms around his neck and wrap my legs around his hips, instead of tumbling to the floor.
“Bedroom?” he asks, already walking in that direction.
“Yes, please,” I whisper back, uncaring of how desperately needy and horny I look to his roommates. When I do glance back, I see they’re fully engrossed with the movie.
Henry tosses me on his bed and I land on a smooth comforter. I tug at my shirt. “Why are we wearing so many clothes?” I ask.
“No fucking clue.” He yanks his shirt over his head and does the same to mine. They both land on his desk, knocking stuff to the floor. He attacks my shorts next and soon they’re in the pile along with his and I’m lying in my bra and panties while he stands over me buck naked, erection bobbing into his stomach.
I get to my knees and he does the same. My hands wrap around him, hard and ready while he struggles with the clasp on my bra. “Jesus, do I need a code for this thing?”
“Let me do it,” I laugh, batting away his hands.
“No way, I can do it.” He sets his jaw in determination. This only motivates me to lean forward and lick the hard lines of his chin. I push him to his back and straddle my legs over his hips. “Fuck it,” he says, now that my breasts hover over him. There’s a greedy gleam in this eyes and he yanks the cups down in frustration, so my nipples are visible. Palming my breasts he brings his mouth to one.
“You’re ridiculous,” I laugh or more rightly, squeal. That quickly turns into a moan because he’s skilled with his mouth and even more so with his hands, which have found their way into my panties.
“Ridiculously awesome,” he says, trying to keep a straight face. It’s impossible, though, and we giggle our way through, still high and definitely giddy. My mind relaxes while every nerve on my body feels heightened.
I’m ready for him and I want him. I express this by tugging and pulling at his body—reaching for his dick. His blue, heated eyes stop me cold and his head disappears between my legs, his mouth and tongue working lazily against my body. I thread my fingers in his hair, rolling my hips to the rhythm we’ve set. He brings me to the very edge before lifting his head. His fingers grab my hips and he slides me down the bed, pushing inside. The pressure and speed of his move elicits a gasp.
I only last moments more and he follows behind me, resting his exhausted, sweaty, slippery body on mine.
“You’re right,” I say once I catch my breath.
“About what?” He’s resting
his chin on my boobs and looks up with glazed-over eyes.
I run my finger along face. “You are pretty awesome.”
Chapter Twelve
Our lust makes us careless, or at least uncaring about our prior rules for sex at work. Heated kisses in the pump room. A hand job behind the locked office door. Tate’s distracted by Lisa and we can’t get enough of one another.
“Summer romance suits you,” Josh says, from the lounge chair next to mine. It’s Tuesday, my day off, and I’m up here because I’m obsessed. My roommate lowers his glasses and checks me out. “Or at least sex does.”
“I’d call you a pervert or something, but it’s true. Sex with Henry is pretty great.”
“I’ve heard,” he says with a knowing smile. His bedroom is next to mine. “I don’t blame you, though. He’s got a killer body. Once I got my hands on that I’d have a hard time leaving it alone.”
“Davey’s not enough for you?”
“He’s enough but he’s gone home for the holiday.”
“Too bad.” I close my book and tuck it under my seat. “I’ve been meaning to ask what’s going on with Tricia lately? She’s never around.”
“Funny, she asked the same thing about you.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’ve just been pretty focused on Henry lately.” He holds up his hands. “I’m not judging. Just stating the facts.”
“Well, she’s not around either,” I say. “At least I have a reason.”
“She has a reason, but maybe you should ask her what it is.”
“You’re not going to tell me.”
“No way. I learned my lesson about getting in between the two of you in the ninth grade when you both had a crush on Ricky Richardson and got in that slap fight in front of the front hall trophy case.”
“I apologized for that.”
He sighs. “Just talk to her, okay? Make an effort.”
“Fine. I can do that.”
“So,” Josh says, shifting gears. “I saw some photos of you and Henry getting quite close on Instagram the other day.”