“Let’s mingle,” I tell Alex.
“Mingle,” he grunts.
I snicker.
“Frankenstein mingle,” he says in a monotone voice, “raaaar.”
Laughter bubbles out of me. I can’t help myself. He cracks a big smile and runs his hand down my back, standing close to me as we move among the guests.
“I don’t know any of these people,” I sigh. “They’re all my sister’s friends.”
Alex looks around.
“I don’t know anyone either. Why did we come?”
“She’s my sister. Also, Carrie likes her pool.”
Alex snorts. “House backs up to the woods. Nice.” He grabs my hand.
“No,” I tell him. “I can’t just sneak off.”
He glances at the pool. “Carrie’s fine, right? There’s adults watching. Look, there’s your sister.”
It’s a little chilly for the pool, but it’s heated. Grace is wearing a flannel shirt over a one-piece, acting as lifeguard for the kids at play. She splashes her feet in the water and laughs when Carrie bops one of Hailey’s girls over the head with a beach ball.
“She’s fine.”
He tugs my arm.
“Alex, my absence will be noted.”
“Oh, really.”
He pulls me along toward the edge of Hailey’s yard, around the hedge and into the woods. It’s not far until we’re mostly out of sight of the party.
He stops me there and grabs me, pulling me against him. His hand skims down my back and over my ass, stopping to squeeze.
“Why are you always playing with my butt.”
“You have the perfect ass,” he growls, pushing my back against a tree. “I could just pull that skirt up and fuck you right now.”
“Someone could hear us.”
“I’d make sure they hear you.”
I shudder, anticipation twisting with embarrassment in a braid that runs from between my legs to my chin, pulsing and swirling.
Alex’s hands fall on my hips, and he slowly starts bunching up my skirt, pulling it up and up, exposing my legs to the cool, damp air. As the hem of the dress rises higher, I feel a tingling from the air moving between my legs.
I feel so vulnerable.
His cock hardens under my hand as I cup him through his khakis.
I yelp as he spins me around by the hips. The tree’s bark roughens my palms as I grip it and he lifts my skirt over my ass. His finger plays along my slit, and my legs quiver.
“Alex, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“This is a fantastic idea.”
I hear leaves rustling. Behind me, Alex kneels in the leaves, puts both hands on my ass, and brings his mouth to my sex. I jerk and my back rounds as his tongue touches me, and then I arch and push back against him.
He buries his face in my mound, roughly rubbing my ass with his coarse hands. He teases me with his tongue, before it slips inside me, warm and wet. I whimper and almost collapse against the tree, but he pulls me back and squeezes my hips tightly in his hand, his face buried in my ass, his mouth hot on my sex.
It feels different this way, but just as good as before. His tongue slides forward and back over my clit, stroking and wetting it, slowly at first, but a little faster with each pass. My legs start to shake as he finds a rhythm that makes my muscles tense and my breath quicken.
“Just like that,” I whisper.
I turn my head just a little. I can see the party. If any of them looked back through the woods they’d see me pressed up against a tree with Alex knelt behind me, eating me out. I close my eyes and savor the feeling. The breeze picks up and skims over my skin, kissing away the sweat until I shiver.
“Hard and fast,” Alex grunts, standing.
He takes himself out of his khakis and then he’s inside me. He’s so big. I groan when he enters me, from the pressure and pleasure and a sweet hint of pain as he spreads me open, the thickness of his heavy cock sending cold shivers down my legs.
I need it all. I want him to explode inside me. I feel his hips press against my ass as he fills me, and I writhe against the tree. He holds me firmly still, keeping his cock buried. Only when I can barely stand it without crying out does he slowly start to move, in short, deep strokes.
Squeezing my breasts through my top, his hands roam over my clothes. They’re so big, I feel like a rag doll in his hands. He starts to go faster, and I bite my lip to stay quiet. Harder, harder please, do it do it.
“Hey!” a voice yells, “Where is everybody? It’s time to sing happy birthday!”
My eyes fly open.
Alex fucks me harder, pulling me into his thrusts.
“Phoebe! Where’d you get up to?” my brother-in-law calls.
Oh God.
I can’t stop now. I grit my teeth and arch, and Alex tenses, burying himself in me. He’s finishing too. Pleasure rockets down my body, like lightning licking from the top of my head to my feet as he throbs deeply inside me.
“Phoebe!” Frank shouts, drawing nearer.
Alex pulls out of me and shoves himself back in his pants as my skirt falls. I can barely stand, and I flop against his side.
“Deep breaths,” he whispers. He pulls me along, closer to my brother-in-law.
“There you are,” Frank says. He’s grinning but he has a wary look in his eyes.
“What did you two get up to?”
“We just needed some air,” Alex says. “Party was a little crowded.”
“We’re about to sing and open presents. Hailey wouldn’t want you to miss it, Phoebe.”
Oh God, my thighs are sticky. “Right,” I say.
“Why are you all red and sweaty?”
“Just from hiking a little. You know how worked up I get.”
“You both are. What’d you do, run a marathon?”
“Nothing so intense,” Alex says, smirking.
“Well, come on,” Frank says, giving us the side-eye.
Chapter Nine
Alex
This is ridiculous.
What is this woman, twelve?
Phoebe’s older sister sits next to a table piled high with wrapped gifts, all covered in colorful paper and bows. On another table, a big elaborate pink and powder-blue cake is adorned with a big candle in the shape of the numbers thirty-five.
“So how old are you?” one of her friends asks.
“Twenty-nine,” Hailey beams back, smiling with perfect teeth.
Did her husband fix her teeth?
Everyone laughs softly. It sounds like the laugh track on an unfunny TV show.
Next to me, Phoebe grunts in annoyance. She doesn’t want to be here, I realize. Carrie is fidgety as she sits cross-legged in Phoebe’s lap, her hair still damp from the pool.
“Mom,” she whispers, “how much longer?”
“We have to sing,” Phoebe sighs.
“Do we really?” I grumble.
“Yes,” Phoebe sighs. “Not you, too.”
I crack a thin smile.
Hailey begins opening her gifts. She displays each one like a model on the home shopping channel, swinging it around so everyone can see. First an iPad, then some jewelry, lots of expensive crap she probably doesn’t need. She’s already wearing a diamond necklace and matching bracelet, and Phoebe said her shoes cost six hundred dollars.
They just look like shoes to me.
“Oh look, let’s see what Phoebe got me,” Hailey says, in a high sweet tone dripping with mockery.
Phoebe puts on her best fake smile, but it’s as brittle as a dry twig.
“What do we have here,” Hailey says as she draws an envelope from the little gift bag. She opens it and mimes surprise.
“Oh look, a gift card to Red Lobster. I had a hankering for some Cheddar Bay Biscuits, don’t you, Frank?”
Phoebe and Grace look mortified, while everyone else and most of their kids laugh in a weirdly mocking tone. Phoebe starts to turn red and stands.
“Thanks for the invite, Hailey, but
we’ve got to run. I have a shift tomorrow. Come on, Carrie.”
I stand and pull the kid to her feet, steadying her so she doesn’t twist her ankle.
“Oh, you can’t leave,” Hailey says through a sharky grin. “It’s time to sing.”
I have to say it. “What are you, twelve?” Every eye at the party locks on me. Phoebe turns even redder. Might as well double down. “Phoebe has to work tomorrow. Early day. We’re leaving.”
“Hey,” Frank snaps at me, “who do you think you are, talking to my wife like that?”
I look down at him, jabbing his finger in my chest, and my blood boils.
“Move,” I grunt.
“Now, wait just a minute.”
He puts his hand on my chest.
In all honesty, I’m amazed. I smash people twice his size for a living, and here he stands giving me a little push to sit down like I’m an unruly child. Phoebe starts to say something to me, but I’ve already reacted.
I lift Frank by his belt and toss him in the pool. He lands with a splash, sputtering and thrashing, throwing water every which way.
“Come on,” I say, turning to Phoebe.
She gapes at me, open-mouthed. I grab her hand and tug, lifting Carrie from the ground as I do. Heading through the backyard and around the house rather than through, I lead Phoebe along by the hand and carry her daughter back to her car.
Dazed, Phoebe sits in the driver’s seat.
“We should go.”
“You asshole!” Hailey screams, charging around the side of the house.
“Yeah, we should go,” Phoebe says and starts the car.
Hailey throws the Red Lobster card at us as Phoebe drives away, her face still slack with shock.
“You threw Uncle Frank in the pool,” Carrie observes.
“Yeah. I did.”
“Good, he’s a jerk.”
“Carrie!” Phoebe says, finally breaking her silence. She tries to sound angry but laughter bubbles through the words.
Carrie starts laughing.
I crack a smile. I can’t help it.
“She’s never going to speak to me again,” Phoebe sighs.
“That’s your loss?”
She snorts.
“Aunt Hailey is such a bi--”
“Carrie!”
“What, she is!”
“I know, but you don’t have to say it like that. Or talk about her at school. Her twins will hear, understand?”
“Okay,” Carrie says, dejected.
Once back at the house, Phoebe steps out of the car and helps Carrie down. I walk inside with them.
“Can you watch her for a while? I need a shower,” Phoebe says.
“I’m sure you do,” I say.
“Head out back,” she says to Carrie.
As Phoebe heads upstairs, I walk out into her backyard with her daughter. It’s not much, just some grass and two conveniently placed trees, just right for a hammock, and a rickety picket fence with worn paint. Off to my right, there’s a worn charcoal grill. Not a fancy one, just a plain black kettle on three legs. It’s a small, simple, pretty bare backyard.
Carrie flops down in a green plastic Adirondack chair that sags under her weight until she’s almost on the grass.
That hammock looks very tempting. I stride over to it slowly, as if it’ll run away if I walk up too fast like a scared deer. The coarse fabric almost doesn’t feel real under my fingers. It’s getting close to sunset on an autumn Sunday. The air is crisp and cool and there’s a light breeze that threatens to turn nippy when the sun goes down. Birds chirp. The scent of cut grass and turning leaves fills my nostrils.
To my surprise, the hammock holds my weight. I settle into it, surprised by how comfortable it is, more comfortable than it really should be. It pulls me in and holds me there. The ground swings under me, and the leaves over my head rustle.
I like this.
My eyes grow lidded. I feel a warmth and softness and open them to find Phoebe climbing into the hammock with me. She’s freshly showered, her hair damp and smelling of lilacs, her skin flushed and warm. She curls up in the hammock with me, pillowed on my chest, her head rising and falling as I breathe.
I could stay like this a long time.
Phoebe falls asleep. I wave away the occasional mosquito, a lazy little bastard that’s too cold to fly. A few lightning bugs flicker in the fading light, but the air is peaceful and quiet. Carrie gets up and goes in the house, leaving the back door open an inch or two so it doesn’t lock us out. I can see the TV from the backyard through the kitchen window, and her shadow as she sits to watch, leaving us alone.
When I wrap my arms around Phoebe, she stirs, hitching her body up to kiss me. Her lips are warm and soft and sweet like she is. She nuzzles her chin into my neck and I bury my face in her hair and breathe deeply.
This must be what heaven would be like.
Finally, she sits up and yawns, and swings her legs around to rise to her feet and stretch, arching her back and her arms over her head. She rocks side to side, to pop her back, and tugs her hoodie down to cover a pale sliver of her stomach.
I follow her, yawning.
“I have to get up in the morning,” she says sadly. “Have to go to bed.”
I nod.
“What if I stay here tonight?”
“Alex,” she sighs, “this was technically our second date. I’m not sure I should…” she trails off, the way she always does, rubbing her arms.
I grab her hips from behind and pull her against me. Her head thumps my chest.
“Why aren’t you sure?”
“I need to sleep.”
“Me, too. I didn’t say let’s fuck. I said why don’t I spend the night.”
“Like sleep with me. Sleep sleep. Rest.”
“Yeah. I don’t want to go sleep alone, and you don’t want me to leave.”
“How do you know?”
“I know.”
“You don’t have anything to wear to bed.”
“Maybe I sleep naked.”
She laughs. “Go get something to wear,” she says, and pumps her butt back against me. “I’ll be waiting.”
After she’s inside, I run, hop the fence, and dart into the rental. From upstairs I gather a change of clothes for the morning and something to sleep in tonight, and head back over.
I grab a towel from Phoebe’s room.
“What are you doing?”
“Showering.”
Her house is built on the same pattern as mine. I take a quick shower and wet down my hair, dry, wrap a towel around my waist, and walk into her room. She stares at me and rushes to close the door.
Phoebe stands at the door and looks over her shoulder, like she’s embarrassed to see me naked. I drop my towel from my body and use it to finish drying myself, standing casually naked in her bedroom.
Same size as mine, but she has a bigger bed. Good, we need the room. Her furniture is all sensible and sturdy but scuffed and aged, most likely hand-me-downs. The closet doors are open, revealing her simple and straightforward wardrobe and a tall safe. She likes mom jeans.
Phoebe turns and looks me over. She swallows, hard, and trembles a little until I pull on a pair of sweats and a tank top.
“I really like watching you get dressed,” she says, absently.
“Funny. I like watching you get undressed.”
“I have to tuck Carrie in. I’ll be back. You can, um, you can get in my bed.” Her voice quickens with every word, quivering a little.
“Isn’t it a little early?”
She smirks at me.
Phoebe steps out and I step to the window and push the curtains open. The sun is down now, and the world is growing dark, all the color fading from the trees. I wonder if I should have left some lights on at my place, but it’s not as if I’m worried someone will steal any of that junk. None of it’s mine.
Something Phoebe says sticks in my head, something about a car. Cars are parked up and down the street. There’s a littl
e orange hatchback idling at the far end of the block. The engine must be running rich, the exhaust is thick and smoky.
The curtains drop from my hands as Phoebe comes back in.
“Um,” she says.
She sheds her shorts and hoodie, and crosses the room in her underwear and a man’s T-shirt, baggy around her slender body. Her panties mold to her ass perfectly. She has the perfect butt, big and just thick enough for her frame with a nice jiggle as she walks.
Phoebe catches me looking and eyes me.
“You said we were going to sleep.”
I turn down the blankets and slip into the bed. The sheets are soft and inviting, like their owner. Phoebe lies next to me, and pulls the covers up to her chin.
“Why are you so nervous?” I ask her.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve shared my bed with anyone. Besides my daughter when she has a bad dream.”
I roll on my side, wrap my arms around her, and pull Phoebe against me. She molds perfectly to my body, my chin resting on her head as she turns to press her back into my chest.
I close my eyes and breathe her in, feel her heartbeat through her back. I’ve slept alone my entire life. This will be the first time I’ve had company in bed.
So I tell her.
She looks back at me. “What?”
“I said, I’ve never slept with anyone.”
“No way.”
“I’ve been with other women, but I never took them to bed. Or they never took me to bed. I guess you’re the one doing the taking tonight. This is your house.”
She giggles. “I’m taking you. So hard.”
For good measure, she wiggles her ass against me.
“I thought you just wanted to sleep.”
“I do. Go to sleep.”
I close my eyes. Phoebe’s breathing slows and deepens as she grows closer to falling asleep. Her soft breath tickles my wrists, but I like the feeling. It’s soothing. She’s soothing.
I quickly fall into the deepest, most restful sleep I can remember in my adult life. I wake only once in the night, when I discover Phoebe is gone. Panic grips my chest for a moment before she pads lightly into the room on her bare feet, climbs in the bed without a word, and tucks up in my arms, facing me this time.
Man of the House Page 32