by Strong, Mimi
He sucked, the sound of his mouth crackling again in the dark, relative quiet of the upper bleachers. The speakers were miles away, and the music was good, but I was barely aware of the song playing. With Adrian’s hands on my back and his mouth on my breast, I was contained only within his touch, and nothing else in the world mattered.
One song blended into the next, and people continued to roller skate far below us. The announcer called out over the music for everyone to change direction, to counter-clockwise.
Adrian pulled away and said, “Change direction.”
He kissed my lips, his tongue touching mine. I moaned with pleasure against his mouth.
He pulled away and moved back down, his tongue swirling around one nipple, then the other, in what I imagined was counter-clockwise.
I let my legs move apart.
He didn’t make a move, but continued to handle and taste my peaches.
I leaned back and parted my legs enough so I could hook one foot around his back and pull him closer for more contact. He shifted in to kiss my lips again, and I hugged him tightly, pressing my tongue-damp breasts against his dress shirt.
His hands moved to my thighs and stroked up and down my smooth, moisturized, bare legs. Was he going to try for third base? He didn’t seem that eager, which was a shame, because Miss Kitty really wanted a pat. I could feel my pulse throbbing down in my aching pussy, and all these soft, sweet kisses were driving me crazy.
Adrian kissed my earlobe, breathing in deeply with his nose nestled in my hair. “I’m really digging your tits,” he said. “I mean breasts. Sorry.”
I giggled and licked the side of his neck, finishing by catching his earlobe between my teeth. “You can call them tits,” I whispered. “Or peaches, melons, or anything fruit-related.”
He held my melons with both hands. “I want to take them home with me. What do you think? Can I borrow them for a few days?”
“You’re funny.”
He squeezed, supporting them up, then letting them drop, still nestled in his hands.
“You didn’t have these in high school,” he said.
I walked my fingers up his arms and squeezed his upper arms. “And you didn’t have these muscles.”
“We both filled out for the better.”
“Did you really mean what you said at dinner, about prom? Were you really disappointed I went with Jett?”
“I would have never asked you. It wasn’t until Jett asked you in the cafeteria that day, that I even figured out how much I liked you.”
I playfully pushed him away. “Too bad. I would have rocked your world after prom.”
He frowned and dropped his hands down to my knees. “Like you rocked Jett’s world?”
I frowned back instead of answering. Were we really doing this? Getting jealous over past lovers, real and imagined?
My voice flat, I said, “Jett got himself a few inches away from my taco stand, if you know what I mean, but he didn’t sample the taco delights.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Jett lost his couch-cushion virginity that night. But don’t worry. The couch didn’t get pregnant. He used a condom.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or fucking with me.”
“Both. I’m a woman.”
He looked around, seemingly distracted by the sounds of the roller skaters. My nakedness began to feel incongruous. Here we were in musty old bleachers, where people stamp their feet and cheer on the local hockey league.
Fumbling around in the dark, I located my bra and slipped it on quickly, followed by my dress.
Adrian blinked at me. “What did I do?”
“Nothing, I just…” I shrugged. My emotions were confusing, especially the way they were mixed with my body sensations. Adrian and I were on the edge of something, and depending on what happened next, we could either be climbing each other to ecstasy, or picking up our leftover pasta to leave.
I blinked up at Adrian. He could decide what happened next, because I didn’t trust myself anymore.
“Golden,” he said.
I smoothed down my hair and busied myself zipping up my dress while avoiding eye contact.
“We should tell her,” he said.
“You tell her.”
“But she’s your friend.”
“This morning, I swore to her I wasn’t interested in you.”
“Why would you say something like that?”
“Because you made me feel bad. When you left last night. You didn’t want me.”
He was still kneeling on the step below me, his face just slightly lower than mine. He slipped his arms around my back, grasped my buttocks, and pulled me toward him. My legs parted to accommodate his body, and I felt his crotch make contact with mine. Through my dress and through his clothes, I felt something firm and rod-like.
His face close to mine, his blue eyes pale and silver in the dim light, he growled, “You think I didn’t want you?”
“Oh my lord, is that…”
He ground his hips forward, mashing his rod against my engorged pussy. Sparks shot through my body. Contrary to what I’d joked about to Golden a few weeks ago, there was absolutely nothing wrong with his equipment. Except, maybe, that his equipment required a minimum of two people to operate, once engaged.
“Peaches, I do want you. More than you know.”
I sighed and arched my back so I could get better contact where I wanted it. Why did we have so many clothes on?
“Mercy!” I bit him on the neck, where it met his shoulder, and wrapped my legs tightly around him.
He slapped his hands down on the step just behind me and leaned forward, rubbing rhythmically back and forth.
The clothes were still between us, but that didn’t even matter. I just wanted him… to keep…
He rocked his hips against mine and groaned. “I want you.”
“Oh fuck,” I said. My neck and ears burned, my heart racing. I groaned, and my voice caught in my throat. I was coming, or I would be, if…
I grabbed his ass and forced him against me, harder.
“Peaches,” he murmured. “I want you.”
My whole body shook as the long-delayed orgasm rolled through me. My hands didn’t know where to go, moving up Adrian’s muscular back to his shoulders, then back to his ass.
I let out a long sigh when it tapered off, then said, “Oh, fuck.”
I leaned back to catch my breath.
Adrian winced and pulled back. “Did you just come?”
I pushed my butt back on the step, bringing my legs together. “Maybe.”
He started to laugh, then tipped his head to the side. “I guess we really are living out our missed high school opportunities. Dry humping and all.”
“Let’s not tell Golden about that. Or anyone.”
He untucked his dress shirt and let it loosely fall over his crotch, hiding his still-impressive tower of man-meat. I may have peaked, but he hadn’t.
“Buzz kill,” he said. “I’ll call her. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”
“You could just date us both at the same time.”
Why did I say that? The orgasm must have loosened me up to a very strange place.
He frowned. “Should I date other people because you’re still seeing that actor?”
My eyes widened in horror. “It was just a joke,” I said. Damn it, I always got so weird after a sexual encounter. If I wasn’t grabbing my clothes and fleeing the scene, I was saying something stupid, or impersonating a cleaning lady.
“I guess we are adults,” he said. “We just need to have some rules.”
Oh, shit. Was he serious?
He scrunched his face and adjusted the front of his pants again. “I’m not thinking clearly, am I?”
“Want me to chop that tree down for you?” I flashed my eyes at his crotch.
He cleared his throat and got to his feet, then sat next to me. “Chop down my tree?” He sounded alar
med.
“Bad metaphor. It’s just that you have a lot of wood in there.” I held up my hands next to my mouth and stuck out my front teeth like a beaver.
He chuckled. “Is that… your beaver face?”
I felt my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Jokes are supposed to diffuse tension, not make it worse!
He leaned over and nibbled my neck. “I am looking forward to seeing your lips around my cock.”
MEOW! BA-WANG!
The lights flicked on, bringing our stark surroundings into reality.
Nodding, he said, “But our time’s up.”
I blinked up at the fluorescent lights, high overhead, as they buzzed and flickered to life.
Adrian unlaced and slipped off his roller skates. He flexed his socked feet, which were quite large—not that I should have been surprised.
I scooped up my roller skates and knee pads, and pointed with my chin to our shoes, several steps down the bleachers. “Are you able to walk straight with that bouncy castle in your boxers, or do you want a piggyback ride?”
He squeezed my hand and started stepping down, his untucked shirt covering his stiffness. “I have a bouncy castle in my shorts? Please. You’re the bouncy castle,” he said slyly.
“I’m more like a water park.”
“If you’re the water park, what does that make me? The family of four with a coupon for all-day fun?”
“That depends on how much you like water slides.”
We stopped to pick up our shoes, then made our way out to the rental desk, joking the whole way about height restrictions on rides and other innuendo-laden metaphors.
CHAPTER 6
Before I knew it, we were pulled up in front of my house, sitting in Adrian’s mother’s nice car. It had a sweet leather interior, and still smelled new over the mild scent of Cujo’s dog blanket on the back seat.
“What kind of mileage do you get in this thing?” I asked.
Adrian raised his eyebrow. “Didn’t your father ask my mother the same thing over dinner a few weeks ago?”
“Hmm. I think he did.”
The engine was still running, and Adrian didn’t seem to be preparing to get out and walk me to the door. What the hell, Adrian? It wasn’t even ten-thirty.
“Great staff meeting,” Adrian said.
“Full of surprises.”
“Listen, Peaches, about the thing I said earlier, about us dating other people, I shouldn’t have gone there. Just because I’m afraid of commitment, that’s no excuse to dick you around.”
I waved my hand. “Pfft. Commitment? Nobody’s getting married, okay? Honesty is way more important to me than commitment. I don’t think I’m in a place where I want to get locked down either, you know?”
He gave me a sidelong look. “Are you saying we should keep it casual, and date other people?”
Squirming in my seat, I said, “I don’t know what I’m saying. My teeth feel loose from those drinks we had. I think my double was a triple.”
“Your teeth are loose? I can’t say I’m familiar with that expression.”
My hand went to the latch and pushed the door open. My legs were jumpy all of a sudden, like I wanted to run away from Adrian and this conversation.
“What’s next?” he asked.
“What’s with all the questions?” I asked. “This date was much easier when you had my boobs in your mouth.”
He licked his lips and smiled, speechless.
I edged my way off the seat, pushing open the door.
Adrian turned off the engine and got out of the vehicle, rushing around to my side like a gentleman. I kept walking toward the lighted porch of my house. The night air was cool enough on my bare legs that I didn’t want to linger outside without a jacket.
As we walked to the house and up the steps, I made up my mind about what I wanted. I liked Adrian, but I couldn’t be sure things were over with Dalton. There was something about the sexy actor that couldn’t be pushed out of my heart by another guy. The more I thought about Adrian’s suggestion to date other people, the more it seemed like having your zero-calorie cake and eating it, too.
“You should take Golden out tomorrow night,” I said matter-of-factly, as we walked up the porch steps.
“Is this a trap?”
I poked him in the chest. “I’m serious. She’s a sweet girl, and she really likes you. But you have to be completely honest. And then on Monday, I’ll make you dinner, and we can have another staff meeting. We have a lot of bookstore business to discuss.”
He gazed down at me affectionately, then tucked my hair behind my ear. “Discussing… your perfect, gorgeous, raspberry-shaped nipples in my mouth?”
I clamped my hand over his mouth. “I have nosy neighbors,” I whispered.
He glanced suggestively at the door. “Here we are again.”
In a flash, I remembered us being there, not twenty-four hours before. As I thought of him leaving me, my body heated with indignation.
“Not tonight, loverboy,” I said.
He made a face, shrugging my words off. “Fine. I didn’t want to come in anyway. I have to work in the morning.” He fake-yawned, watching me out of the side of his eye.
“I’ll see you back here Monday. Make it seven-thirty, since I have to work at the bookstore all day and straighten out whatever disaster my incompetent co-worker has made over the weekend.”
“He’s not incompetent, just inexperienced.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to teach him a thing or—”
I was cut off by Adrian’s lips on my mouth. His long arms encircled me, his kiss electric and charging my whole body. When he let me go, every inch of my skin was tingling, from my scalp to my toes.
And then he turned and walked away, a bounce in his step.
I opened the door, slipped in, and kept the interior lights off as I stood in the dark living room and watched the car’s red tail lights streak away in the night.
Alone in the dark, I asked myself out loud, “Peaches, what the fuck are you doing?”
~
On Sunday, I had a ton of energy, and I not only cleaned my room and did my laundry, but I also put all the laundry away instead of giving up partway and leaving the clean stuff in the basket. It wasn’t even my week to clean the bathroom, but I did it anyway, grinning with satisfaction as I scrubbed the antique claw-foot tub to a sparkling shine. Whenever I started to think about something I didn’t want to think about, I just found a new zone to clean!
Ladies, if you want to get your house into tip-top shape, I recommend you send the guy you’re dating out on a date with another girl. Yes, you’ll get some conflicting feelings, ranging from curiosity to outrage, but your house will ultimately benefit.
And, remember, it was all your idea! So when you fluff up all the pillows and start punching them, that’s all you, baby.
At six-thirty, my father came by to pick me up for dinner at their house. I’d only seen him once since my trip to LA, and he had a million questions for me about the underwear photo shoot and the commercial filming. I filled him in as best I could in the car, summarizing the awkward details regarding my love life.
“And your boyfriend Mitchell is modeling underwear in France?” he asked, getting all the details jumbled.
“No, Mitchell’s just a friend. Keith was my, um, boyfriend while I was in California, and he’s in Milan now.”
“But Mitchell took you to Disneyland, right?”
“No, that was Keith.”
“Disneyland can be very romantic.”
“Dad, are you feeling okay?”
We pulled into the driveway of the house, and he tapped on the car’s odometer. “The mileage on this thing is terrible. I like to buy American, but this is ridiculous, and when is the movie star coming back to town?”
(I swear, that’s exactly how he asked me about Dalton Deangelo—as though his car’s fuel economy and the actor’s visit were obviously tied together.)
“He’s more of a TV star
than a movie star, and I don’t know when. His butler was here on Friday getting a cabin or something set up. I haven’t talked to Dalton since I left LA.”
We got out of the car and walked up to the house. My father’s gaze was straight ahead as he said, “You’re more than good enough for anyone, Petra. Never forget that.”
My mother swung open the door to greet us. Kyle ran through the house behind her, chasing another little boy with a big, plastic shark raised high over his head.
“The famous model is here!” my mother exclaimed.
The boys’ yelling diminished slightly as they clambered up the stairs and down the hall toward Kyle’s room. My mother’s cheeks were rosy, and her blond hair looked dark, as though it hadn’t been washed in a while.
I gave her a big hug, still puzzling over what my father had said.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
She squeezed me, hard. “Nothing a little girl talk with my favorite supermodel can’t cure.”
Dad stopped for a moment to straighten the lid on the cut-crystal candy dish where we keep the spare keys, then he disappeared back out the door muttering about having left some lights on in the workshop.
“Really, Mom, what’s going on? Dad just tried to talk to me about boys, sort of.”
She led me into the kitchen and handed me a bottle of white wine, cold from the fridge, and the corkscrew.
“Kyle’s been acting out lately,” she said.
“Do you want me to talk with him?”
She smiled wanly as she set out two wine glasses. “When did I get to be so old? What do you think of those no-surgery facelifts?”
“What did Dad do now?”
“It’s not your father.”
I poured the wine, and she switched the subject to me, asking questions about my time in LA, and nodding at the answers while staring off into the distance.
We put together the salad and got all the food out onto the table.
Dad came in and we sat down to eat.
Kyle’s friend had shockingly bad table manners, but his behavior seemed to improve when we stopped paying any attention. The boys wolfed down their food, and when they asked to be excused, my mother seemed relieved.
She finished her third glass of wine, and finally she spit out what was bothering her. “A woman at the summer camp meeting thought I was Kyle’s grandmother.”