Raw

by Simone Sowood

  His living room is large, but sparsely furnished, with a futon couch, a black La-Z-Boy and a coffee table with a few empty beer cans on it. A massive TV hangs on the wall, with several types of video game consoles lined up underneath it. A few free weights are in the corner.

  “Nice bachelor pad,” I say.

  “What were you expecting?”

  “This is exactly what I was expecting. Well, maybe I was expecting you to be wearing clothes.”

  “I had a shower.”

  I bite my bottom lip, suddenly feeling awkward and self-conscious.

  The feelings vanish when Gabe wraps his arms around me.

  In a low voice, he says, “You’ll be glad you stopped fighting yourself.”

  “And you?”

  “I’m fucking ecstatic. We belong together, Jewel, I just needed you to see that.”

  He pulls me onto the futon, and I collapse onto his lap. I’m in the comfort of his arms, and the butterflies vanish.

  “You’re mine. You realize that, right?” Gabe says, and nips my neck.

  I don’t even bother trying to fight the massive grin on my face.

  “I do, and you’re all mine,” I say.

  “Absofuckinglutely. I think I’ve been yours for as long as I can remember.”

  “You think? How you did you go from the little boy who sat behind me, to a man looking the way you do, anyway?” I drag my finger over the ridges of his abs as I speak.

  22.Gabe

  Eloise fills my arms perfectly. All the tension in my body vanishes, and I sink into the couch.

  It’s like this is the moment I’ve been waiting for twenty years.

  “I grew up,” I say, answering her question.

  She laughs, it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard in my apartment. Her body jiggles on my lap. My dick twitches, but I ignore it.

  I could fuck Eloise all day and night, but right now I want to enjoy this moment.

  The moment she said she’s mine.

  “That’s not an answer,” she says, starting to giggle. She playfully pushes against my chest.

  “What you want to know?”

  “Everything.”

  It’s probably fair enough, but I can’t ruin this moment by telling her everything.

  “Fine, you ask a question, I’ll answer it.” I press my lips against hers, and cup the back of her head. She whimpers, and I pull away before I end up fucking her.

  “Start with the last time I saw you. Why did you move away? You said your parents split, but why was your sister crying all the time in my sister’s class, saying your mom was sick?”

  I suddenly feel heavy again, but I’m going to have to tell her. Once she knows, the past can go back where it belongs, in the past.

  “In seventh grade, my mom got cancer. My father was a trucker, so it was hard. Real hard. Neither of them dealt with it very well. We ended up moving to Pittsburgh to live with my mother’s sister.”

  Eloise smoothes my hair, she’s frowning and her eyes are watery. She doesn’t say anything, and I continue.

  “After my mom died, we barely saw my father anymore. My aunt always said he was working on a long run, but my sister and I both knew he was drinking somewhere. Anywhere and everywhere. My father dealt with the grief by drowning himself in booze. So my aunt ended up being the adult responsible for raising us.”

  A tear escapes Eloise’s eye, and weaves a crooked path down her cheek.

  I wipe the tear away with my thumb. Pulling her head to mine, I nuzzle against her. “You poor little things. How did you cope?”

  These are things I never talk about, and my throat is tight.

  “I drew a lot. And started getting in lots of fights. By the time I started high school, I had a reputation and no one messed with me. At least no one my own age. So I started hanging with the older kids. A group of them let me in with them, and I started hanging with them.”

  “I’m going to assume they weren’t the nerdy kids.”

  I laugh through my nose, and say, “Not exactly.”

  Frowning, she asks, “What was your aunt like?”

  “She’s a nice lady.”

  “Do you still see her?”

  It’s the inquisition. Why did I ever say I’d answer all her questions? I should’ve given her three questions, max.

  “I go down for Thanksgiving and sometimes Christmas. My sister’s still in Pittsburgh. She’s married with a couple of kids, so I visit them.”

  Eloise tilts her head, her cheeks twitching and a half smile. “That’s nice of you.”

  “What? You think I don’t want a relationship with my family?”

  “Do you ever see your dad?”

  “No. And if I did, I’d beat the shit out of him.”

  Her eyebrows knit together, and her face freezes.

  “I wouldn’t really hit him. I’d just really like to, for abandoning us when we’d already lost one parent.”

  She smiles again, the softness returning to her face. I kiss her, and Eloise shifts her body so that she’s straddling my lap. In this position, I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to keep my dick under control.

  It hardens against her, and I grind it into her.

  Eloise pulls away laughing, and says, “Not yet, you still haven’t told me about all these pictures on your body.”

  She swings her leg over mine, and sits beside me. She angles herself toward me, and traces the pattern of roses on my chest.

  “Roses were my mom’s favorite,” I volunteer.

  She runs her fingertips lower, and asks, “Did she like skulls too?”

  “No, the skulls are all me.”

  “And the rest of the stuff, is that you?”

  “Mostly.”

  “I’ve spent a lot of time looking at the ones on your back, but I haven’t had much chance to see your front.” She shifts her eyes down. “And I didn’t see your legs until now. Why so many?”

  “The stuff on my thighs was me practicing when I was first learning.”

  “Get out.”

  “How else could I learn? Would you want to be my guinea pig?”

  “No, but that’s because I don’t want any tattoos.”

  Fuck, I’d love to decorate her. Her skin is as smooth and clear as porcelain, begging to be drawn on. I’d color her in lilies and lilacs.

  “Not even one little one?”

  Eloise laughs, and says, “No. not even one little itty bitty tiny one.”

  “Not a little daisy on your hip?”

  “Nope.”

  We both laugh.

  “Any more questions before I rip your clothes off?”

  “Didn’t you already do that today?”

  “That was hours ago.” I run my hand up her thigh.

  She playfully slaps my hand away and asks, “Why did you come back to Rochester?”

  “To open my own place. My mother had a life insurance policy, and I got some money when I turned twenty-five. I wanted my own parlor, but when Jack took me on as an apprentice, I promised him I’d never open a rival shop in Pittsburgh. Rochester seemed to make sense.”

  “Do you have any family here?”

  “No.”

  “So why come back? You could’ve gone somewhere warm and more exciting.”

  I turn my body to face her, and rest my arm on the back of the couch.

  “Because you were here.”

  Her cheeks redden, she shifts her eyes around. “You did not.”

  “I did. You’re the only person from grade school I ever cared about, or ever wanted to see again.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I shake my head and purse my lips, not believing I’m about to admit this to her.

  “When we lived in Rochester, life was good. My mom was the best mom. But I didn’t have many friends at school.”

  “I remember you having lots of friends. You were always with Jason Miller, and Tom Hillary and that red-headed guy. What was his name?”

  “Davey McFadden.”r />
  “Yeah, him. You had friends.”

  “No, I had guys I hung around with. I didn’t have people I liked. There was only one person I ever liked in our elementary school. You.”

  As I expected, Eloise blushes. I’m not going to tell her the anger I had for her when I left. Or how I ripped up every drawing I’d ever made of her.

  “I didn’t realize.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m teasing. I didn’t move back here to find you. But I’m glad I did.”

  “You were just saying that stuff?”

  I shrug, wondering what the real truth is. Why did I move back to Rochester? Because my early childhood here was so good? Because I feel closer to my mother here? But this place is the reason it all went so wrong. How much did Eloise have to do with my decision?

  My eyes run up Eloise’s body, for a fleeting moment I feel the anger and pain I felt when I left our school at the end of seventh grade. When my eyes reach hers, everything inside of me settles, and I feel the same lack of tension I’d felt when she first got here.

  Only this time, I’m not even going to try to control my dick.

  23.Eloise

  “Try toothpaste,” Gabe says.

  He reaches out from behind the shower curtain, water runs down his arm and drips onto the floor. He grabs a tube of Colgate from his sink, and holds it up in front of me as the water runs down our bodies.

  “That’s crazy, that won’t work.”

  “Nothing else is either. If it doesn’t work, I’ll go downstairs and get my Ink-Out. If it gets tattoo ink off, it’ll easily work for pen.”

  For some reason, last night I let Gabe draw on me. He started my collarbones and worked his way down to my toes. It was amazing how quickly he worked, and how high quality the drawings are.

  One side of my body is a vine covered in all sorts of flowers. The other side is naughty. He drew the two of us in all the positions he wants us to have sex in.

  My entire right hip is a close-up of his face between my legs. My right breast is a three-dimensional picture of his face, with his mouth open and his tongue licking my nipple. On my thigh, he drew my face, thrown back in ecstasy as he makes me climax.

  “It’s not really doing anything,” I say, rubbing the toothpaste into my arm and trying to scrub off the picture of me on my knees, sucking his dick.

  We didn’t get much sleep, and I’m tired. It’s Friday, and I have to work. But that didn’t stop me from spending the night.

  “It’s fine, I have to go home to get clean clothes anyway, I’ll wear a long-sleeve top today. No one will be able to see it.”

  “Don’t go home first,” Gabe says, pushing his pelvis against mine.

  “I have to. I need clean panties.”

  “Screw panties. What do you need those for?”

  I laugh, and shake my head. “You’re funny.”

  “I wasn’t being funny. I’m serious. While I’m at work today, I want to be able to think about you walking around with no panties on. I’m going to spend the day thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you tonight.”

  Gabe grabs hold of me, the spray from the shower splashing over both of us. My skin tingles, even though we had sex right before getting in the shower.

  The bottom of the tub is slippery, and my feet slide around as he hugs me. But Gabe is a solid wall of muscle, and I hold him tight to stop myself from falling.

  He kisses my cheek, and says, “Besides, if you don’t go home, I get to have you for another thirty minutes this morning. I’ll even make you an omelet for breakfast.”

  “You’re corrupting me. But I can’t resist a good omelet.”

  “If not wearing panties is corrupting you, I’ve got a long way to go.”

  “Are you kidding me? Look what you’ve drawn all over me. It seems like I’m going to be walking around work with smutty pictures all over me.”

  “I told you I was going to use my tattoo ink cleaner to get them off. But now that you’ve brought it up, I definitely like the idea of you walking around with these on you.”

  My eyes flare as I imagine myself talking to my mother and father with only a thin piece of fabric between their eyes and the pictures of Gabe ravaging me.

  “You should show them to Marcy. I bet she’d appreciate them.”

  “She doesn’t need drawings, she’s seen the real thing. Remember?”

  “I bet she rubbed herself raw last night thinking about us.”

  “Oh God, don’t say that. I’ll have to quit right now and never show my face at my parents’ medical practice again.”

  Gabe turns off the faucet and pushes open the shower curtain.

  “Let’s eat,” h e says.

  We both step out of the tub. He pulls a towel off the vanity counter, and uses it to pat me dry.

  “There, the ink is smudged a bit but not too bad.”

  “What about my arms?”

  “Don’t worry about them, I’ll use my cleaner on them. But the rest of these pictures are staying.”

  I follow Gabe back into his bedroom. Like the living room, it’s spartan. There is a bed with no headboard, and a chest of drawers.

  On the floor are two piles of clothes, a pile of darks and a pile of lights. Gabe pulls a pair of black jeans from the darks pile and a T-shirt from the lights pile.

  I’d assumed they were piles of pre-separated laundry, but after putting on a pair of boxers from the chest of drawers, he puts on the clothes he got from the piles.

  “Jeez, you really are a bachelor.”

  Gabe shrugs but otherwise ignores my comment. I pull on my pants and do them up. They feel weird with no panties underneath. I retrieve my bra from the floor.

  “Leave that off for now.” Gabe slides his hand down my arm and hooks his fingers into the bra straps. “I’m not done enjoying the view yet.”

  “Is that so?” I put my hands on my hips and try not to laugh.

  “It is,” he says, smirking.

  “You took my view away. If you want to keep yours, I suggest you take your shirt back off.”

  He chuckles, a rich, deep sound that fills the room. I keep my hands on my hips, tilt my head and raise an eyebrow at him. Still chuckling, he pulls off his shirt, revealing the incredible body underneath.

  “Better,” I say, and break down laughing.

  While Gabe goes to the kitchen to make breakfast, I snoop around.

  His apartment is huge, and covers the entire top of the tattoo parlor below. There’re two more bedrooms, but both are empty. There’s a separate room off the living room which is clearly supposed to be a dining room, but instead it is filled with more weights and a few other pieces of exercise equipment.

  There is one more room, an office. A desk is up against a window overlooking the street. It’s clearly used, but is surprisingly neat and organized. I glance at some of the papers on it, they’re invoices for Incredible Ink. It seems like he organizes his business very differently from the way he organizes his life.

  Sitting by itself on the far corner of the desk is an envelope. The name on it catches my eye. Kaylee Johnson. I wonder why she left when she did. I’d be pierced right now if she hadn’t. And probably still wouldn’t know what it felt like to have an orgasm.

  “Breakfast,” Gabe calls from the kitchen.

  My stomach rumbles. I guess I worked up an appetite last night. And this morning.

  In the kitchen, Gabe sets two plates of food onto a round table. I glance around and I’m glad that the room is clean. He may live like a bachelor, but at least he’s a clean one.

  I slide onto the wooden seat and waste no time in starting to eat. Gabe sits across from me.

  “How come Kaylee left?” I ask, take a bite of my cheese omelet.

  “Still more questions?”

  “Yes.” Gabe’s barely asked me any questions about my background. He hasn’t asked any about my family, or my job. I don’t know if he doesn’t care, or if I asked him so many that he’s sick and tired of questions.<
br />
  “I fired her.”

  “But why? Why right when I had an appointment to see her?”

  “Coincidence.”

  Coincidence? That’s a strange answer. It makes me think that it wasn’t a coincidence.

  “I get it, you saw my name on the appointment sheet, and you wanted me all for yourself so you fired her to get her out of the way.”

  Gabe bursts out laughing, “If that’s you want to believe, then yes, Jewel, I wanted to get my hands on you.”

  I don’t know whether to believe him or not.

  24.Eloise

  “Look at you, showing up at work in the same clothes you wore yesterday,” Marcy says the second I walk through the door.

  “Good morning, Marcy.” Maybe if I ignore the comment, she’ll drop it.

  I walk by the reception desk and beeline down the hall, and bump straight into my mother.

  “Oops, eager to start work today?” my mom asks.

  Marcy’s snort carries down the hall.

  “It’s Friday, my favorite day of the week.”

  “All set for dinner tomorrow? I’m making a rack of lamb.”

  “That’s a nice anniversary dinner. Of course I’m coming.”

  “You can bring someone, if you like. There’ll be plenty of food.”

  “I still don’t have anyone to bring since you asked me that yesterday.”

  Marcy erupts in a fit of laughter, I turn around and glare at her.

  “Anyway, I’d better get ready for my day.”

  “Sure thing, sweetie.”

  I enter my room, and close the door behind me. Marcy had better get over this fast, my nerves can’t take it.

  A moment later, she comes into my room without knocking first.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “We need to talk.” She perches against my desk.

  My heart pounds against my ribs but I look at her as coldly and calmly as I can.

  “About?”

  “You know exactly what about. That sexy man you committed a crime in here with yesterday.”

  “It wasn’t a crime. Don’t be stupid.”

  “Maybe not, but what you did with him was unethical and against the rules of this medical practice. I have no choice but to raise the matter with the owners.”

  “The owners? You mean my parents?”

  “Your relationship with them is neither here nor there.”