by Anna Brooks
I fight the urge to roll back over when the sound goes off, thinking I won by not reacting. A moment later, the telltale sign of skin slapping together echoes, and I lose the battle and turn over. A guy is pounding into a chick against a desk, and just as he pulls out and comes all over her stomach, Erik exits out of the screen and pulls open another one.
He does this three different times, each scene getting hotter than the next. Each orgasm of the women hits me right between the legs, and I know mine would be even better if Erik were the one giving them. He must be able to tell he found one that turns me on more than the rest because he enlarges the screen and nudges it toward me more.
I try not to look, but when the guy’s finger disappears inside her, I suck in a breath.
“You like that?” Erik asks.
“Huh?”
“Your hand is at your throat, and your face is all red, baby… I can hear how fast you’re breathing.”
Instead of answering, I swallow hard and then clear my throat as I give a meaningless shake of my head.
“You do.” He tosses the covers to the ground and sets the laptop at the end of the bed. He’s already naked, and his dick is hard and ready, the precum dripping down his shaft hotter than the people on the screen. He grips his long, hard length and begins stroking himself. I glance back and forth between the screen and him, both sights enough to make me explode.
“What… what are you doing?” I ask him after a couple of minutes go by, and he still hasn’t made a move to touch me.
“Me? I’m jacking off to porn since my girlfriend told me she wasn’t going to let me fuck her tonight.”
“I see.” Just when I move my eyes from him to the screen, the woman throws her head back and screams as an orgasm rips through her.
“I’d happily fuck you with my fingers, baby. My tongue, my cock. Whatever you want. All you need to do is say the word.”
I don’t try to argue with him as I can feel the moisture pooling between my legs right now. He knows me too well, and I can’t even pretend that I don’t want him. “Hmm.”
“But if you’re still gonna be stubborn ’cause your man was looking out for you, then I’ll just have to imagine it. I’d bet you’d come hard as shit right now. All worked up. Bet my dick would be sore from how hard you squeezed it when you—”
“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath, but he obviously hears me because he smirks.
“Your call, Polly. I either need to get inside you, or I’m gonna finish myself, ’cause—”
“No,” I interrupt him. “No. With me.”
His brows rise, and his hand stops its movement. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” The woman screams, and I look over to see them in a different position than they were before.
“Get on your knees, baby, but turn so you can still watch.”
I comply quickly, taking off my own panties and sticking my ass in the air. “Tilt your ass up more so I can get to your pussy, Polly.” I shift my position, and right after I do, the head of his dick searches for me and slides in, nice and slow. “Fuck, baby. I missed this.”
He pulls out and continues to fuck me slowly. I thought he’d pound into me, and I’m trying to decide if it’s better or worse. After several long, torturous minutes, I decide it’s worse. Just when I’m about to scream for him to move faster, his fingers reach around and rub circles on the sensitive nerves between my folds. “Oh, my God.” My head falls to the mattress, and I can feel my walls starting to clench around him already.
“Love this, baby.”
He pinches me, and the orgasm I’ve been teetering on rips through me. He pulls his hand away then grips my hips and fucks me harder, faster, and deeper. I scream so loud that I’m giving the chick in the porn a run for her money. I come for what seems like ever, and a blurry fog forms in front of me. When I open my eyes again, I’m lying on the bed with my head on the pillow and the covers up to my chin.
“You good, babe?”
My hand goes to my head, and I push some hair away. “Yeah, what happened?” I mean, I know what happened, but I don’t remember moving up here.
“You kinda passed out.”
“Kinda?”
He smirks. “You passed out after I pounded into you so hard I thought I’d break you in half.”
That sounds about right. “Well, hell,” I mutter. “That’s never happened before.”
Chapter 17
Erik
“Please, talk to her, Erik. I think she would,” Mellie begs through the receiver.
“I can try, babe. Not sure she’s ready to yet.” I hear the pipes shut off in our bathroom and walk out of the bedroom. “We haven’t talked about the Richard situation much and, in turn, how she feels about you.” We’ve talked about a lot of other things, gotten deeper into each other than anyone else has before, but for some reason, it’s just not been a big topic of conversation.
“Well, just ask her, okay? I’d love to have you guys over.”
“I’ll try.”
“Let me know soon, okay? Bye!”
I hang up my phone, and instead of going back in the bedroom, I continue downstairs to mull over my decision. Mellie invited us over for dinner, but I’m not sure it’s the best idea. Things are going well with Polly and me, and I don’t want to rock the boat, so to speak.
Mellie insists that when they were in the ER together for Polly’s hand—which I still feel like absolute shit for—they talked and kind of came to an agreement. I find it hard to believe, though, since I know more about how Polly operates. She acts strong and seems tough, but when she talks about certain things, insecurity and uncertainty still linger.
A few minutes pass and Polly comes down the stairs looking pretty as ever wearing a pair of light blue tight jeans and a black t-shirt. So simple but so damn beautiful.
“Hey, handsome,” she greets as she sees me. “Did you eat yet?”
It’s the morning after she passed out from the phenomenal sex we had. Never been so damn good, but everything is amazing with her, though. It just keeps getting better. I am starving but I was waiting for her. “No. I was just about to get some cereal. Unless you wanna go out?”
“Cereal is good. We can’t keep eating out so much; we’ll go broke and get fat.”
I want to tell her that money isn’t an issue but don’t want to seem like I’m rubbing it in or something. Instead, I grab the sugary kind of cereal she picked out while she gets bowls and spoons. After I put the box on the countertop, I get the milk and sit next to her at the table. “So do you have any plans for this evening?”
“No, why?” She pours milk to the rim of her bowl.
“Want some cereal with your milk?” I joke.
“Shut up. I like a lot of milk.” She takes a bite then covers her mouth as she’s chewing. “No, no plans, why?”
“Mellie and Smith invited us over for dinner.”
I’m expecting her to freeze up, or to argue immediately, but she doesn’t. Instead, she nods. “Okay. That sounds good.”
Not wanting to show my shock, I shove a spoonful into my mouth and give her a thumbs up.
* * *
“Do they even like wine?” Polly asks nervously as we walk up to Smith and Mellie’s house.
“Yeah, sure. I mean, Smith drinks beer, but Mellie likes it.”
“I wish the cake would have turned out.”
When I snicker, she elbows me. “Don’t be an ass.”
“Sorry, baby. But that shit was funny.”
After I called Mellie and told her that we were coming for dinner, Polly insisted on trying to bake something, so we flipped through the pages of her new cookbook and found a recipe for a basic chocolate cake. I was with her for the whole thing, and I swear we did everything right, but when the timer went off and we pulled the thing out of the oven, it was collapsed and seeping over the edges.
“What the hell?” Polly screamed when she saw it, and I almost fell to the ground laughing so hard. We went back over eve
rything and realized we’d used baking powder instead of baking soda. I had no idea they were even different ingredients, but when we looked it up online, we discovered that baking soda is what makes food get its form.
She got so mad, she threw the pan into the sink and because it was still doughy, some of it flew up and splattered all over her. She turned around and whipped some at me so fast I didn’t even have time to react. Then I attacked her, and we ended up eating whipped cream and chocolate syrup off each other instead.
“I’m never trying to cook again,” she mumbles just as I knock on the door.
My hand is still in a fist when the door is whipped open, and Mellie greets us. “Why are you knocking? Come in, come in.”
We go inside, and Mellie hugs me and then Polly, who is a little stiff but still accepting. “We brought wine,” Polly says when Mellie pulls back.
“Oh, thanks. My favorite kind. Let’s go open it!” Mellie practically drags Polly away, and I make a detour into the living room where I hear the telltale signs of a basketball game.
“Hey, man,” I say in way of greeting as I plop down next to Smith.
“Hey.” He looks in the hallway. “Girls in the kitchen?”
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t have trouble getting Polly here?”
“Nah.” I shake my head. “She was cool with it.”
Smith turns the volume down on the TV, and we shoot the shit until Mellie calls us for dinner. When Polly comes into view, I examine her as I approach to gauge how she’s feeling. She leans into me, holding a glass of wine. I kiss her head and then lean down to her ear. “Everything good?”
“Yup.” She looks up and smiles at me.
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
When we sit down for dinner, I rest my hand on her thigh. Mellie made a delicious pot roast, and the talk at the table is small but pleasant. There isn’t any awkwardness, which surprises me. Mellie insists on doing the dishes herself—something about Smith not loading the dishwasher right—so he and I go back to the living room. Polly goes with Mellie to help.
“That went well,” Smith states.
“Yeah, it did.”
“Polly say anything to you about Richard trying to contact her?”
My curiosity and anger spike at the same time. “No. Why would you ask that?”
He leans closer to me. “Mellie’s gotten a couple of collect calls from the jail. None of them really recent. She declined all the calls, so she never talked to him.”
“I’ll ask Polly, but I’d assume she would have told me.”
“She know about Soph?” That’s an abrupt change of subject.
I look away from him, and my knee cracks when I stand. “What are we, teenage girls or some shit?” He doesn’t need to know what Polly and I discuss or what she does or doesn’t know.
“Just wondering, man.”
“Well, don’t. My life is not your business.”
Smith’s head jerks back. “She was my sister. Pretty sure that was my business.”
“What the fuck does she have to do with Polly and me?”
He stands up and walks closer to me. “I’ve never said shit to you about it, but I’ll say it once and then never bring it up again.”
“The fuck are you gettin’ at?”
“I had to come to your house and drag your drunk ass outta your tub after your girl over there tried and sliced the shit out of her ha—”
“Shut the fuck up.” I move toe to toe with him, and it takes all my strength not to hit him in his face.
“You got your shit straight yet?” he asks, and as much as I want to be pissed at him, I know what he’s getting at. I have to remember he doesn’t know about me working at The Firm when I wasn’t here. He thinks I’m more of a loser than I am.
Taking a breath, I step back. “Yeah. I do. But Smith, you’ve gotta know that for as much as you think I’m a piece of shit alcoholic—”
“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit.”
“You’ve only seen the bad, man. When I was here, I was fucked up. I’m not denying that. But… well, you know about my dad and stuff, but what I never told you was that I own the company. And all the times you thought I was out on benders, I was most likely there. Working. I mainly do admin shit—set up clients, organize schedules, train, hire… that kind of shit.” Don’t feel like getting into why I don’t like doing fieldwork.
He whistles in shock. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself. “I don’t know. Don’t know why I did a lot of the shit I’ve done. Didn’t know much about nothin’ till I met that girl in there. Loved your sister, Smith. Bottom of my heart, man, I did. But…” How do I word this?
“But she wasn’t the one.”
I shake my head. “She wasn’t. She helped me get through a lot of shit and I’ve got nothin’ but love for her.”
Hardest part about moving on from Sophia is the guilt I feel for being happy with someone else. Yeah, I still have all the shit from my parents. And yes, I will always harbor the guilt from everything that happened with Soph, but I’ve come to realize that drowning my sorrows in self-pity is not the way to live.
“I know you do.” Smith grasps my shoulder just as the girls walk in.
When I see Mellie with a chocolate cake and Polly holding back a smile, I collapse on the couch and laugh until tears are running down my face.
“She said she had no idea, but what are the chances?” Polly giggles as she snuggles next to me.
When we compose ourselves enough to tell Smith and Mellie the story, they don’t laugh nearly as hard as Polly and I did, but that’s okay. It’s something that she and I share, no matter how stupid it seems to someone else.
“What’s the occasion for a cake, anyway?” I ask.
Mellie kneels on the floor and looks at Smith. She bites her lip and wordlessly cuts into the cake. When she sets a piece on a plate and hands it to Smith, I can see the way her hand is shaking, and so does he. Smith doesn’t even look at the cake because of his concern. “You okay, sunshine?”
She nods and pushes the cake at him. He takes the plate and sets it down then gets off the couch. “Why are you shaking? Do you not feel well?”
“I’m fine. Eat your cake,” she demands.
“Let me get you some water.” He stands up, and Mellie laughs.
“Smith, look at the freaking cake!” I look at it faster than he does and try to decide why a pink center with chocolate frosting is so pertinent right now. But then Polly sniffles next to me, and I realize why.
Smith stops in the doorway and looks down at the coffee table where he set his plate. It takes him a good fifteen seconds of staring at it before I watch his face transform into sheer joy. “We’re having a girl?” he asks, not at all surprised, like I am, that she’s pregnant in the first place.
Polly’s weight gets heavier as she leans into me and grabs my leg a little tighter.
“Yeah. I found out Friday but wanted to surprise you.” Mellie is halfway up to standing when Smith reaches down for her and pulls her up.
As they’re embracing, I look over to see Polly wiping her eyes. I wrap an arm around her tighter, pull her closer to me, and kiss her forehead. I know she wants a baby, and I want to give her one. It’s not like we’re trying, but we’re not not trying.
When they don’t pull apart from each other, Polly looks up at me. “Maybe we should go,” she whispers.
“Oh, my God.” Mellie laughs as she pulls away from Smith. “I’m so sorry. I forgot you guys were here.”
“So you’re pregnant, then?” I stand with Polly and hug Mellie then give Smith a much manlier version. “Congrats, guys.”
“I had no idea; you’re so tiny,” Polly says to Mellie.
“Yeah, well, I very much am and have the morning sickness to prove it. But these princess cut shirts.” She lifts up the bottom of her shirt to reveal a tiny little bump in her stomach. “They hide
a lot.”
“When did you find out?” I ask them but more specifically Smith.
“Um, a couple of months ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Smith and Mellie glance at each other, and I immediately feel like an asshole. They think it’s going to bring up some shit about Sophia and her pregnancy. Little do they know Polly and I have already gone through the wringer with that one. “Guys, come on. I’m so happy for you. I’m good about…” I trail off and wrap my arm around Polly’s waist. “We’re good with everything.”
I see the acceptance hit their faces when they both smile. It’s high past time for them to feel like they need to hold things back because they’re afraid of how I’ll react.
“We also got married,” Mellie whispers.
“What?” I yell unintentionally. “What the hell?”
“We didn’t want to have a baby out of wedlock, so we went to the courthouse.” Smith laughs.
“Out of wedlock, my ass. You just used it as an excuse to make it legal,” I joke with him.
He doesn’t deny it, only shrugs.
“Weren’t you drinking, Mellie?” I ask.
“No. Just carrying the glass around, and I dumped some in the sink. I’m sorry,” she says to Polly.
“Oh, it’s fine. I’m so happy for you guys. We really should go and let you celebrate.”
“No, stay. Please.” Mellie points at the cake. “You guys need to help eat this; otherwise, I’m going to devour the whole thing, and I do not need that much damn cake.”
“What do you say, babe?” I ask Polly. “Want another round of dessert?”
Chapter 18
Polly
After we went to dinner at Smith and Mellie’s place last weekend, Erik and I have had a kind of weird tension in the house. Not bad necessarily, just… weird. I don’t bring it up because I’m hoping it’ll pass.
Mellie called me the day after we had dinner with them and said she happened to see an advertisement for a cooking class and wanted to know if I’d want to go with her. She knew about my lack of cooking skills since I confessed them while I watched her make the gravy. Since the class is a night I don’t work, I reluctantly agreed to go, but now that she’ll be here in fifteen minutes to pick me up, I’m actually kind of excited.