Calendar Girl - An erotic novel (Xcite Erotic Romance Novels)

by Marsden, Sommer

  ‘Of course I do. My cuddle bunny needs to hear too.’ He said.

  ‘Cuddle bunny?’

  ‘You know it.’

  ‘Gag,’ I said.

  Jeffrey laughed and Jack yelled what I thought was don’t be a hater!I rolled my eyes. ‘It was–’ I blew out a deep breath. ‘Wow.’

  ‘Where is Captain Transylvania anyway?’

  ‘Romania,’ I corrected.

  ‘Whatever. Where is he?’

  ‘In the shower,’ I said. I rolled to my back on Penn’s bed, the ceiling was painted with oversized lilacs and irises, hints of filtered sunlight and that deep navy of a summer sky was wound all through the mural. Breathtaking.

  ‘And you’re not with him?’

  ‘We tried that,’ I said. I grinned. ‘It didn’t work.’

  ‘How did it not work, Merritt?’ Jack yelled from the background.

  ‘We couldn’t get to the getting clean part. We just ended up doing it. All soapy and slippery and–’ Jack was now yelling Lalalalalala!and I laughed. Mission accomplished. The phone beeped as Jeffrey picked up the receiver.

  ‘So you went and now he’s there and you are calling to tell me he’s hung like a god and made you speak in tongues?’

  I nodded and rolled back to my belly. I wore one of Penn’s tees and a slouchy pair of white socks. I felt small and secure in his tee. Silly but true, it was only cotton steeped in his scent but it made me feel a rush of emotion. ‘Pretty much.’

  ‘Good,’ he said, sounding satisfied.

  ‘Good what?’

  ‘Good you sound happy, Merritt. You really do. You sound glowy and content and peacefuland that’s just through a hunk of plastic.’

  ‘How would you know?’

  ‘Hello, it is I, Madam Jeffirina, the fake psychic here to predict a very, very long happy life with your tall, dark, Transylvania bloodsucker.’

  ‘Jeffrey, he’s not–’

  ‘A life of fun and laugher and art. Drag shows and red wine. Sex and some sex and a smattering of sex. Good food, organisation, smart, brilliant children with accents and big dark eyes. Madame Jeffirina predicts joy.’

  I paused, my throat closing up just a bit with my feelings. ‘Shut up, Jeffrey,’ I said, trying to laugh it off.

  ‘You know, honey, I think this time, I might be dead on the money.’

  ‘I’m really nervous,’ Penn said.

  ‘Don’t be. My mother should have already eaten today. Therefore she won’t thirst for your blood or want to crunch your bones.’

  He paused, one foot out of the car, bouquet of fresh flowers clutched in his paint-stained hands. ‘Pardon?’

  I bent low, laughing, holding my belly and snorting like a pig. Such a pretty picture of lovely lady-ness. ‘Come on, Penn. I’m just fucking with you. My mother is practically crawling out of her own damn skin to meet you. She has called me six times to ask what to wear. To meet you! You’re fine. She might faint, but you’re fine.’

  ‘What if she doesn’t like me?’

  ‘Are you straight?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Are you fertile?’

  ‘I ... um ... I assume I am, yes.’

  ‘Are you hungry? Will you eat?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Do you like me?’

  ‘Nope. Even back at home I had already fallen in lo–’

  ‘Ahhhh!’ I yelped. ‘Do you likeme?’ I nodded so that he got the hint to just say yes.

  He frowned at me but nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Are you a serial killer?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Any plans to make a girl suit out of me?’

  ‘Merritt! God, no!’

  ‘Then you’re in! Let’s go!’

  My mother didn’t faint but she did bat her lashes so forcefully and often I wanted to ask if she was having an allergic reaction to her own makeup. She also said, ‘Enchanté’ which made Jeffrey snort blush wine up his nose.

  The six of us, my mother, my aunt, me, Penn, Jeffrey and Jack had wonderful Filet Mignons, baked red potatoes, fresh salad and ripe fruit. Gooey butter cake, a throwback to my mother’s growing up down South, and vanilla bean ice cream. Jeffrey gave Mom Lucite wedge heels that contained fake butterflies and I gave her a beautiful locket I knew she would assume was for pictures of future grandbabies, I meant for it to be a place for a future love’s photo. My mother needed a man. I just couldn’t find one willing to be wrapped and presented as a gift.

  When Jeffrey started making his signature drink (a Drunken Cow) I wandered to the back of the property hand in hand with Penn. ‘So how did I do?’ he asked, pinning me to a tree with his big hands and kissing me hard.

  Fire shot through my body at his touch. I was warm and pliant from just one kiss. Penn sensed it and he slid his palms up the insides of my thighs, pushing my little blue sun dress up as he touched me, He pushed his fingers under my panties, blocking me from view with his body. ‘You did ... oh, yeah, you did fabulous.’ I shimmied against him. Enticing him to want me, wanting him right there in the purple summer light in the small cluster of trees. My mother had a weeping willow way out back and it shielded us from the house. We could hear the laughter and loud music; I was sure my mother had pulled out Tom Jones by now.

  Penn pushed down my panties and I shook my hips as they fell in a soft drift of cotton down my thighs. I dug in his jean pocket for his wallet, flipped it open and without looking found the condom. He was faster than I was, so I handed it over as his lips crushed down on mine, my loose braids snagging on the rough bark. ‘Part your legs for me, Merritt. Show me how proud I made you. Make me believe I did good.’

  ‘You did good,’ I said and raised my leg so he could hook his arm under my knee. Parted my thighs so he could find the slippery seam of my pussy. Arched my hips so he could drive into me and I nipped his earlobe when his lips found the hollow of my throat.

  ‘You feel so unbelievably good,’ he said. ‘Watching you eat that gooey cake, with the crumbs all over your rosy, full mouth was enough to make me insane. I wanted your mouth. I wanted your hands on me.’ He drove into me harder, his voice rough. ‘I wanted this, to be in you, more than I can even describe.’ His ‘r’s rolled off his tongue and my pussy went taut, catching up around the thrusting heat of his cock.

  ‘I can imagine,’ I breathed.

  Penn put my hands above my head, pinning me there. He still held my knee over the other arm. I could feel my pulse beating in the back of my knee, at the base of my throat. It roared in my ears and Penn pressed his lips to my ear. ‘I can’t take my time with you here. We have to get back. But I can take my time with you later. And I will.’

  On that, we both came. The cries we stifled were swallowed by the night song of crickets and cicadas. By distant thunder and sudden stormy winds.

  When Jeffrey kissed me goodnight, he said, ‘Madame Jeffirina spoke the truth.’

  I pinched him so he squealed like a pig but I smiled. ‘Hush, boy.’

  ‘I’m just saying!’ he said, rubbing his bicep like a big giant baby.

  ‘Drama queen,’ I said and kissed my mother goodnight.

  ‘You know it,’ Jeffrey laughed.

  My mother did not prostrate herself or dissolve when Jeffrey and Jack kissed. My Aunt Helen seemed more curious than anything else. Penn laughed softly and meant it when he said, ‘It was very nice meeting you all!’

  ‘We’re all going to the Flamingo tomorrow night,’ my mother said. ‘All of us. Seven o’clock,’ she said, pointing to me and slurring only a little. ‘Be there.’

  I glanced at Penn who laughed. ‘Of course,’ he said and kissed my mother’s hand before we left.

  ‘Wow. Now I think that time she actually almost did faint.’

  At home he did have his way with me. Took his time. He kissed every inch of me, licked me, made me come. Babbling and begging for him to never take his tongue off of me. To let me just rest. But he didn’t let me rest. Penn licked me straight to orgasm, lapped me
to a second. Put my hands to the wall above his bed and took me from behind. Moving softly against me at first before pushing me onto all fours and holding my hips, slamming into me. Saying my name like a plea as he came. He did take his time with me. And then he took his time holding me close all night. Covering me when the storm rolled in, watching me sleep when he woke up, which was often. I could feel his eyes on me and it made me feel safe.

  The queen with the heart dress a la Lucille Ball and the big red wig was singing Wind Beneath My Wings. I hung up the phone in my hand and put it in my pocket. ‘Who did you call?’

  ‘No one,’ I said, turning to kiss Penn. The next act was to be my brother. He was dressed as a bad ass rocker with skinny jeans, boots, chains a punk do and his song, did you guess, Love Is a Battlefield. ‘Just checking in on someone.’

  ‘Jack is still angry that you won’t do backup for this one.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘I’m here to watch. Show off my man. Drink some drinks. That is all.’

  Bubbles, decked out in cotton candy blue, waved at me and when Penn turned toward the stage, she fanned herself like she was going to catch fire. Her dress was a studded evening gown the colour of January ice, her heels some strappy flashy numbers I’d kill for. I gave her a thumbs up and she grinned, primping her ice blue flip wig like she was going to steal him from me.

  ‘Who was that,’ Penn whispered in my ear.

  ‘That was Bubbles and she is fabulous. She thinks you’re pretty hot.’

  ‘So’s she,’ he laughed.

  ‘You know it.’ His hand slipped up my thigh and even in the packed and crowded bar I shivered.

  ‘I want to get you alone. Very much,’ he said.

  ‘Me too, but my mother will be here in a moment. Let’s get her settled. Oh, here they come!’

  And here they did come. My mother and Aunt Helen decked out in their very best summer suits. Their little straw purses clasped in their hands and the patrons and performers alike greeted them, smiling. I waved. ‘Here we go,’ I said, pointing to the purple flamingo festooned table up front. ‘That’s Jeffrey’s table. And Jack’s too. They share.’

  ‘Of course they do,’ Aunt Helen said, beaming. She looked as if she’d been beamed aboard the mother ship but was perfectly fine with it.

  I snagged my mother’s arm and said, ‘There’s someone Jack wants you to meet,’ I said.

  ‘Who?’ She touched the locket I had given her. Maybe that was a good omen.

  ‘Oh, ask him. Here he comes.’ I waved to my brother, decked out in his best impression of petite Joan Jett.

  Jack was ushering an older gentleman next to him. The man looked mildly stunned but he was a tall, handsome man, not stooped by age but enhanced by it. ‘Mother, this is Stanley. Stanley, this is my mother, Ellen.’

  They greeted each other and Stanley said to my mother, with a bit of befuddlement, ‘My son is just turned gay.’

  ‘Oh, my. I was just there,’ my mother said patting his arm.

  ‘I don’t mind much,’ Stanley said. ‘Whatever makes him happy, but this is a lot of ... interestingly dressed men. Women? Men.’ Stanley shook his head.

  ‘Oh you poor dear, mine is going on an all-gay cruise soon.’ She still whispered all gaylike it was a secret, and Bubbles, who was passing, laughed loud and long. I grinned. ‘It will be fine though. The important thing is that they’re happy.’’

  ‘I lost my Margaret about five years ago. I’m not good with change.’

  ‘I lost my Henry ten years ago and I’m still not good with change,’ my mother said, giving Stanley her arm. She ushered him up to our table.

  Penn grinned. ‘You’re like Cupid, only hotter,’ he said.

  ‘Nah, that was Jack. I just approved and helped herd them in.’

  ‘Merritt!’ came a loud voice. We turned to see the MacDonalds rushing at us. ‘Thank you so much for inviting us!’

  I hugged Trudy and Jim and introduced them to Penn. We got them seated at a green flamingo bedecked table (courtesy of Bubbles) and when a queen named Taffy LaPull took the stage I grabbed Penn’s hand and pulled him to the back. I could see Jeffrey and Jack watching the show, talking like an old married couple. My mother was talking Stanley’s ear off, Aunt Helen looked mesmerized and the MacDonalds were holding hands like teenagers.

  ‘Everyone is happy,’ I whispered.

  ‘Are you happy, my Merritt?’ he asked me as I tugged him into an old spare dressing room no one used because they all complained it was too small. We didn’t hit the light, the closet light was on and it gave me plenty of glow to see the handsome man in front of me. ‘I am very happy. My heart is happy. Other parts of me are happy,’ I said, pulling him in by his shirt collar and kissing him.

  Penn pressed his cock to my pelvis. I felt the hard ridge that showed his desire for me. His want of me. Feeling wanted was important, but feeling wholly wanted was crucial. ‘Parts of me are happy too,’ he said. He caught my wrists up in his hand, bound them behind my back with his big fingers. He pushed his fingers under my skirt, into my panties.

  ‘I felt that,’ I said.

  ‘But the parts you can’t feel are my mind. My mind is happy. You make me see colours I’d forgotten.’

  I liked that. My head fell back and he fingered me and rubbed my own juice along my clit and my swollen sex. ‘That feels good.’

  ‘My heart is happy. I love you, Merritt,’ he said. His lips flush to my lobe, the moisture from his words snaking into my ear. I froze but then accepted it the same way my body accepted his fingers. His touch.

  ‘My soul is happy. You make it feel light.’ He pushed my panties down, let my hands free. I looped them around his neck and he lifted me enough that my cunt was flush with his cock. I wriggled so he would have to cave.

  He was a blur of hands and denim and rubber and then in me. My back smashed to the cold plaster wall with some famous queen smiling over my shoulder, her headshot more glamorous than my prom pictures. Or my wedding pictures, for that matter.

  My toe hit the sofa arm of the ugly green ancient love seat. I secured my foot, looping my other leg around Penn’s narrow waist. He smelled so good. So fucking good I felt high when he was near. ‘Tell me you love me, Merritt,’ he said to my throat.

  He never stopped moving in me, never stopped holding me. His grip strong and firm, I felt secure. Like if I let go and everything went limp, Penn would hold me up. Keep me from falling. And still I shook my head. ‘Not until January,’ I said.

  He laughed, fingers biting into my ass as his cock nudged my g-spot into submission. I felt the pressure building in me. The intensity and the sweet yellow joy of being about to come. Like sunshine in my body, in my being. ‘Why January? It’s only August. That’s a long wait for a man who’s had you firmly locked in his mind for a while now.’

  He moved me from the wall, physically. A sexual bouncer manhandling an unruly ward. ‘Oh my God! Where are you taking me – unh,’ I expelled the words as we hit the sofa. He shoved his hands under my ass angling me, teeth finding my shoulder so that sparks of pain tingled along my back and arms. I was going to come. If he put his teeth to me again, I was done.

  ‘It has to be a year. There was a plan. And I’m–’ I swallowed my own word, grasping at his ass with my hands, tugging at his powerful hips. Anything to shift focus.

  Penn stilled. Completely stilled so that I bucked up under him to try and keep the momentum. ‘You’re what?’ He pulled free of me.

  ‘Oh my God! Come back.’

  ‘You’re what?’ He ran the slick head of his sheathed cock along my thigh. Teasing me. Cruel!

  ‘I’m scared,’ I said, blinking back tears. Out in the club people were chanting. Shouting.

  He smiled, I could see that in the glow. He kissed me, spread my legs, re-entered me with a maddening slowness. Each centimetre registered in every stimulated nerve of my pussy. I held my breath, not wanting to lose focus on the immense pleasure of his entry. ‘Don’t be scared. I love you. I�
��ll love you in September and all through the holidays. I’ll love you in January.’

  ‘And I already love you,’ I whispered like it was a secret. He went still in me again, but stayed put. His body fitted to mine and filling me. A delicious welcome pressure and presence. ‘I just can’t officially tell you until the new year.’

  ‘I see. Can you give me hints until them?’ Now he was swaying against me, gently push, push, pushing himself against the sweetest spot in me. The bundle of nerves that made my body feel warm and loose and long, like warm taffy in the sun.

  ‘I can. Like for instance, when I come–’ I started to come, pushing my fingers into my hair, yanking him to me, I kissed him fiercely. ‘It’s a hint that I love you.’

  Penn lost his composure, his movements kinetic and crazed. He laughed against my throat. His hands on my waist as he held me there so he could fuck me harder and I wouldn’t slide. ‘And when I come,’ he stiffened, his mouth against my collar bone, and came with a groan. He stifled it and the sound of him trying to be quiet made me giggle into the back of the overstuffed monstrosity we were sprawled across. ‘It means I love you too, Merritt.’

  I heard another roar in the crowd. I sat up, pulling at my clothes with urgency. Jesus. Jack will be on any moment. We have to hurry. He’ll never forgive me if we miss his big Joan Jett moment. He’s idolized Joan Jett for ... forever! He’ll kick my ass!’

  Penn was buttoning his fly and smoothing his still-in-need-of-a-haircut hair. ‘Your ass. You’re his sister! He’ll kick my ass for doing you in a deserted dressing room while he was on.’

  I tugged him by the hand. ‘Oh, he will not, he likes you.’

  ‘He loves you,’ Penn said in his vampire voice. I smiled in the near dark and tried to hurry him along.

  ‘What? Are you scared of my pretty, pretty brother?’

  Penn pulled me in for one more kiss. His hands cupping the back of my head so he had me bent to his will. ‘Honestly? Yeah, a little. Even with the heels he could kick my ass.’

  ‘I won’t let him.’

  ‘I’ll hold you to that, my Merritt,’ he said.

  My Merritt.

  I jumped on him and he caught me, cupping my ass with his big hands. I yanked his face forward and kissed him long and hard. ‘What was that for?’