The Never List

by DL White

  "I'll stop you right there because any scenario that doesn't have you in it is not better. It is not more mature. We are both young and healthy. We have time. We have options. We don't even know what the situation is yet. We could have twins by next Christmas, for all we know. Let’s chill on worrying about things. And when we come to that bridge, we'll cross it together."

  I pulled her up with me as I stood. "We're going home today, but right now, we're still in the cocoon, so let's take advantage of these last few hours. Ok?”

  She seemed to breathe a little easier. At least she smiled when she walked past me. I grabbed her arm, though. "Whoa, sexy. Where you going?"

  "In… in the house. You said…"

  "I didn't say we had to do that inside."

  She laughed, but I could hear the undercurrent of interest. "Trey…out here? It's the middle of the night."

  "So it's perfect." I pulled her to me, holding her body close to mine. "It's me, you, and the ocean. A couple of seagulls. You mind if they watch?"

  She tipped her face up to mine and smiled. In any light, Esme was beautiful, but in the moonlight, the smooth landscape of her skin seemed as delicate as porcelain.

  I returned her smile, then pulled at the strings tying her robe closed. The two sides fell open, revealing the red silk gown she'd put on after we showered together. I already detected two peaks poking out of the thin fabric. I made them stand at attention, grow firmer when I rubbed the back of my hand against them.

  I stepped back, running my gaze from her head to her toes, admiring every delicious curve of her, from the roundness of her breasts under the thin fabric to the flare of her hips, to the point of her knees, even her white toenails that seemed to glow in the dark.

  "Like what you see?"

  "More than anything I've ever seen before."

  Esme rose up onto her toes, her mouth open and ready to meet mine in a passionate, breathy kiss. A moan curled from me as my body came to life. I moved, holding Esme by her hips and walking us back toward the railing that ran the length of the deck.

  "We have to be a little quiet out here. Sound on the beach travels."

  Esme giggled. "You've spent four days saying louder, tell me louder, and now I have to be quiet? Not sure that I know how."

  "Practice for when we're fucking while your cousin is home."

  She slapped a hand across her mouth to muffle a gust of laughter. My fingers were busy playing with the knee length gown, pulling it up far enough to slip my hand underneath. Esme wasn't wearing panties. She was slick. And warm to the touch.

  "Do you have any idea how sexy you are?"

  Her lips tipped up in a wicked, seductive smile. "You make me feel like the sexiest woman alive."

  Her eyes slid closed, and her mouth dropped open when I slipped two fingers inside her, angling my thumb to run circles around her clit. It was like rolling a marble in oil.

  "Mmmph…" She gripped my forearms and rocked against me. "God…” She gasped. “Trey, that feels good."

  “Making you feel good is my new favorite thing."

  "Uunh!"

  "Shhh," I whispered, gripping the back of her neck. I found her mouth again while my fingers worked until she was bucking her hips. She hooked a finger into the band of my sweats, pulling them down my hips. My dick bobbed, growing harder in the sea air.

  "What do you want? What do you want me to do?"

  "Fuck me," she hissed. "Right here, right now. Fuck me, Trey."

  I pulled my fingers from her, grabbed my dick, and smeared her juices across the head. She turned around, placed both hands on the railing in front of her, and looked back at me, her bottom lip wedged between her teeth.

  "Goddamn. I don't see how I can say no."

  I moved behind her, flipping up her robe and gown to take in the generous roundness before I guided myself into her. I reached around to palm a breast, gripping and kneading, flicking the nipple. I pumped my hips against her, my mouth buried in her neck to muffle the noises that I couldn't stop if I wanted to.

  She pushed back against me, then reached for the hand that had her by the waist and moved it to her clit. I stroked, enjoying her warmth moving against me.

  "Have I mentioned that I love this pussy?"

  Esme moaned, long and low.

  "Is this pussy mine, Esme?" I hissed into her ear. "You saved this, just for me, huh? Is it mine?"

  "Take it! Take it, it's yours."

  The slap of skin on skin, alongside the hushed tones of two people in the throes of ecstasy, trying not to make noise was erotic to me, like an open secret between us, the ocean waves adding background music to our symphony.

  The pre-orgasmic trembles rocked Esme a few moments before she squealed my name and ground her ass against me. Her pussy clenched violently, pulsing and squeezing. I thrust harder, faster, to try to come with her. Finally, my orgasm crashed through, and I tossed my head back, gripping her hips and clenching my teeth to grunt a muted "Fuck!" into the night air.

  Breaths heavy, hands shaking, she broke from my grip and turned around. Then she placed her hands on my chest and pushed us back to the chairs we'd just abandoned. I backed up until my legs hit the wood slats and dropped into the seat.

  Esme wasted no time in lowering herself onto me. She rolled her hips and pulsed her pussy walls to pull me further inside. I gripped two handfuls of her and held on, alternately drawing one, then the other nipple into my mouth while she rode me.

  "You feel so fucking good, Trey. How… how do you feel so good…"

  "Babe, shhh…"

  "I can't!" She tossed her head back and laughed into the night air. "Fuck! I love your dick!"

  I laughed. "Es!"

  "I don't care! This feels too good!"

  I dug my fingers into her ass and spread my legs, scooting up in the chair so that I had some leverage to match her thrusts. The chair began to thump against the side of the house since we had worked our way across the deck.

  "Come for me, baby."

  She giggled. "Now you want me to be quiet."

  "If you don't care about the neighbors, I don't either. I want to come, though. Waiting on you."

  "Ok, I'm gonna...I'm…" She bit down on her bottom lip, her face a study in concentration. Her body moved like a piston, her breaths beginning to match the rhythm. A gut-level grunt ripped from her throat. I felt her thighs tense, her back arch, and her inner walls pulse with an intense climax, which took me over the edge.

  "Fuck! I'm coming!"

  "Me too!"

  I released a burst of air, my release coming swiftly, and bringing immeasurable relief.

  We spent a few moments catching our breaths. I glanced around at the homes on either side of us. No lights came on, no curious onlookers passed by.

  "You…" Esme panted, deliriously giggling and lightly slapping a palm on my chest.

  "Me? Nuh-uh, baby. You jumped me."

  “No…I mean…you... are some kind of man, Mr. Pettigrew. I can't believe I waited so long to have sex. But I’m kind of happy I waited so long to have sex.”

  "Worth waiting for?"

  She hummed happy sounds, sounds of pure pleasure as she wrapped her arms around me, her lips finding mine for a deep, passionate kiss.

  "So worth it."

  When she stood, I did too and pulled my sweatpants up. We went back to the bedroom, where I pulled the robe from her shoulders, lifted the silky red gown from her body, dropped my sweatpants where I stood, and took Esme back to bed.

  We still had hours before our afternoon flight. I wanted to spend as much of that time as possible making slow, sweet love to her.

  Chapter Thirty

  Trey

  * * *

  "Well, well, well. Do my eyes behold the ghost of Trey Pettigrew at midnight racquetball?"

  I didn't even turn around so Ken could get the benefit of my sheepish grin. I bounced the rubber ball against the wall while I waited for him to get his petty gloating and ribbing out of the way.

>   "I mean, it couldn't be the actual likeness of Trey Pettigrew. I haven't seen him since he busted into my restaurant and demanded that I make a sushi dish that is not actually sushi. He doesn't answer the phone, he doesn't return texts, it's not like we live in the same building or anything—"

  "Alright, alright, alright." I turned around, both arms extended, a racquet in one hand, a rubber ball in the other. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to ghost you. You're still my dude, jealous fool. I've been crazy busy."

  "Is it Esme? I'll forgive you if it's Esme."

  "Man…" I gestured at him to serve. He did, sending the ball into the wall for me to send it back. "It's work. It's the house. It's Esme. It's… a lot. I haven't been sitting at home, staring at the wall."

  Far from it. At Pettigrew, I managed a full portfolio of projects, grinding to stay on Pops' good side and be available to Vincent while he stepped up to run Pettigrew. I didn't feel nearly as left out and dejected as I thought I would feel, knowing that I wasn't at the helm anymore. I honestly felt relieved, but still pensive. If I was going to spend the next ten to fifteen years being an underling – an executive underling, but an underling nonetheless— then I was going to have to make my move to run my own show.

  If I wasn't in the office or at a Pettigrew site, I was micromanaging my house build. I wanted major construction to be complete, finishing up interior details by December. The walls were up, concrete had been poured, wire pulled, fixtures were going up, and the flooring and other materials had arrived. Ideally, I could wake up in my own house on Christmas Day if I had my bedroom, the kitchen, a bathroom, and at least one room downstairs walled, floored and powered. I'd put my condo up for sale, and Esme and I had started packing.

  I spent the balance of my time with Esme. The cocoon that we'd built up over our vacation kept us solid. We preferred to stay in our cloud of newfound, giddy love. Good food, good wine, good sex, made easier since she didn't have to go to work.

  Job hunting was going well, though. Her assumption that her MBA would let her play well in the market was correct; the response to her resume and years of experience with Benning netted calls and emails immediately. In fact, she had an early interview in the morning, so we'd had some dinner, some wine, some sex, watched a show, and then I cut out early so she could get to bed and be well-rested.

  But I couldn't sleep, because sex with Esme didn't relax me; it wound me up. I'd become used to sharing a bed with her, coming down from the highs of orgasm together. When I got home, I texted Ken, though I had been ignoring him for weeks. I'd miss being close enough to get in a quick game. If I wasn't going to be having sex on the deck of a beachfront home in the middle of the night, I'd settle for getting my ass beat.

  "So, the last I heard, the bid was toast. Are you still playing CEO?"

  "Nah," I answered, returning a weak serve. I gave him a look and slammed it back at him. He had to run to catch it and send it back. "Vincent is acting CEO, and I'm actually happy about that. He and Pops have been running the company for thirty years. They finish each other's sentences. I should have known better than to think I could do it."

  "If I remember right, you did know better. And you told him that you knew better, but he insisted on giving you the job."

  "You know how it goes when I try to have those I told you so conversations with Pops. You have to let it play out. The good news, though, is that he's not furious about the bid anymore. Especially since they got to submit anyway. I'm holding out for that promise he made me."

  "Pops has been fighting you on residential for a while. Think it'll pan out?"

  "It would be a great way for him to say he's sorry for not trusting me. We would have lost our asses if I'd signed that contract. Now he feels like he's doing something good by acting as a mentor, bringing a young pipsqueak up in the world."

  My eyes rolled involuntarily. "Miller is smart, but he's also a smarmy, sneaky motherfucker. The shit I've given up, that Esme gave up behind his shady ass?"

  I seethed, slamming my anger into the ball. It bounced off the wall and came flying back, but Ken couldn't run fast enough to catch it.

  "Piece of work, that guy."

  "I have more insulting words for him. I don't like him, and I'm glad we don't have to absorb him into Pettigrew."

  "Heads up!" Ken served. We slammed the ball around the room for a half-hour of rowdy play before taking a break to hydrate and breathe. Ken paced, sucking down water from a sports bottle. I did the same but sank to the floor with my back against the pane of glass.

  "So, you're not going to spill any juice about Esme?"

  I fought the smile that always popped up whenever anyone brought her up. Vincent had become insanely curious about her ever since she spent the afternoon at Pettigrew and risked her job to save our asses. Now he was asking after her, too. How she was doing? Did she find a job yet?

  I got it. She was beautiful. Engaging. Assertive. But also a warm, sweet, sensuous woman. A person got a very good idea of what they were getting from her by spending a little time with her. I was obsessed with her too.

  "What kind of juice are you looking for?"

  "The usual, man. Maybe you're rusty on the rules. In this friendship, we talk about the women we date. You tell me you like her; I tell you that you're an idiot. You tell me all the simp shit you do for her; I tell you that you're whipped."

  Ken paused for a moment, then grinned. "And then I go back to my place, pick up my phone, and hop back on Tinder because I'm jealous of what you have." He stood over me, offering a hand to pull me up. "Let's grab a basement beer before the bar closes down."

  Basement beer was what we called getting a drink at the bar in the basement of the building. We often slid in just before the last call. Considering that it could be the last basement beer I'd have with Ken, I let him pull me up, then followed him around the corner to the bar.

  A few minutes later, we were posted up with frosty bottles and a bowl of salt and vinegar corn nuts, our usual basement beer combo.

  "You seem different this time, man. I mean it."

  I shook my head, my mouth in a downturn. "I'm no different. Same soup, just reheated."

  "If that's the case, your woman is heating things up in a whole different way. Did you take her to your spot in Myrtle Beach? How'd that go?"

  "Was nice."

  I bobbed my head, smiling at the memory of five long, blissful days with Esme. Late nights on the deck listening to music, playing spades or UNO. Early mornings in the bed with her, starting the day off right. Sunset walks on the beach, hand in hand while we just… talked. Laughed. Played.

  Easy. It had never been so easy.

  "It was great to get out of the city, get some alone time with her. You know, spend some quality time together, figure out who we are outside of all of this work stress and family stuff."

  "I bet. By quality time, you mean…"

  "Come on, man. I've never been that dude. That's all you."

  I was never the type to kiss and tell. I never had much to tell. Now I had something I wanted to tell the world, but it was precious to me. I couldn't see sharing what was intimate and meaningful between us for Ken's amusement.

  Besides, Ken's worldwide exploits were infamous. Funny, because he always claimed to be jealous of the few more serious relationships I'd had.

  "You're no fun anymore, Trey. You're not giving me anything?"

  "I'll give you something," I said, leaning forward. I tipped my beer to my lips and took a long fortifying swallow, then set the half empty bottle back on the bar. "This woman? Esme? She's changed my life. My whole world, my whole outlook in like… six weeks. I can't remember what life was like before I met her. I don't want to think about going back to being without her. I love her. I'm in love with her."

  "Damn." Ken whistled, pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. "That's heavy. Does she know? Does she feel the same?"

  "Hell yeah, she knows. And she feels the same."

  "So, I really am catering your
wedding?"

  "Man, keep the calendar open, you know what I'm saying?" We laughed together, then I picked up my beer again, and before I took another sip, said, "I mean… I haven't said the L-word to her yet. And she hasn't said anything to me yet."

  "So, how do you know she knows how you feel? And how do you know she feels the same?"

  I shrugged. "I know. Mark my words. Until then, I'm playing it cool. Being there. Loving her. Enjoying being in her world. It's a nice place to be."

  "I guess. I can only hope to find the same sometime."

  "You'd have to sit your ass down somewhere first."

  "Actually…" Ken's tongue flicked out to moisten his bottom lip as his gaze dropped to the table, his skin gaining a pinkish tone. "I met this woman the last time I was in New York. Remember, I went up there to scout restaurant locations a few months ago?"

  "I remember. She lives there?"

  "Yeah. A waitress at the restaurant in the hotel I stayed at. I came in right before closing. Force of habit, I guess."

  He chuckled, flashing me a shy half-smile. "I talked her into letting me sit down, said I'd take whatever they had left that was prepared, and I'd tip her well. She said she was saving something, and if I wanted it, I could have it. Turned out, she'd ordered dinner and was going to take it home. I felt bad taking her dinner from her, but she said she'd rather have the money. So I paid her double for it. Then I shared it with her."

  "See, you talk about the simp shit I do. You sap."

  "Anyway, we ended up sitting in the closed bar, talking and eating cold lasagna til like… I don't know… 4 AM? I've eaten frozen lasagna that tasted better. But she… she was nice. I got her number. We talk here and there. I'm uh…"

  Ken sat up, then smoothed his palms down well-muscled thighs. "I'm thinking about taking a trip up there. You know, long weekend, some time to relax. Maybe run into her." He looked up at me and caught my eye. "Or whatever."

  "You should probably make plans to see her and spend time with her like an adult, you moron."