Selling the Drama

by Theresa Smith

  Her sincerity was obvious and Toby felt himself give in to her. Trailing his fingers down her spine, he kissed her behind her ear. "How about I go and have a shower and then you can make it up to me in whatever way you want."

  "No." Charlotte latched onto him, curling her arms around his neck and sinking her teeth into the fleshy part of his chest, sucking and biting. He gasped, flinching at the sensation, pulling her closer and feeling himself grow hard for her.

  "Charlotte, I'm so dirty. Seriously, I won't take long to have a shower."

  She pulled her mouth from his chest, licking the mark she'd just made. "No. I like you dirty. You can have a shower later."

  Toby looked down at her, his gaze resting on her mouth. He loved her lips, especially the pout of her bottom lip. She didn't have her braces anymore, and while they had done nothing to detract from her beauty before, their absence matured her appearance. He leaned forward and took her bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it gently. She pressed herself close to his groin, rocking against him. As he sucked on her lip, she undid her jeans, and then started in on the buttons of her shirt, throwing that off, her bra landing on the floor seconds later. His hands landed on her hips and he pushed at her jeans, getting them down to her thighs. She did the rest, using her feet to shimmy out of them while her hands yanked down his shorts.

  Toby could see the door to his bedroom was still open. His eyes sought out the clock, twenty five past five, maybe twenty minutes left until Iris got home, let herself in through the front door and walked past his room, the first door in the hall. Maybe less. Toby stuck his tongue into Charlotte's mouth, seeking hers, his hands covering her backside. Cars drove along the street; a hose sprang to life, the next door neighbour beginning her afternoon watering session. Dogs barked and children called out to each other as they rode along on their bikes. The clock counted down, only a possible fifteen minutes remaining. Toby picked Charlotte up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing the heat of herself up against him, the wetness of her teasing him, driving him out of his head crazy to sink inside of her. Backing up with her in his arms, he sat as his legs found the seat of his desk chair, still holding onto Charlotte, sinking her down onto himself, clapping his hand over her mouth as he did so, muffling her screamed out, "Toby!" It was only on account of silencing her that he heard Iris's car pull into the drive. Iris called out to her neighbour, their voices carrying over the yard, filtering into the room through the open window. Releasing her mouth, his eyes fixed on hers, Toby pulled Charlotte against him, holding her firmly as he emptied himself inside of her, his teeth sinking into her shoulder to control his own urge to call out.

  As Iris bid her neighbour farewell and made her way up the stairs to the front door, Charlotte ducked into her own room and Toby slipped into the shower of their shared bathroom. As he washed the day's football game away and the scent of her off his skin, he listened to her talking to her mother, her laughter light and her tone even. He imagined her, standing there in the doorway of her bedroom, her hair pulled into a hasty ponytail, a lopsided smile on her face, and all that he had just poured into her soaking her still.

  He was a slave to her. There was no use even thinking he had a chance at living without her. She was stitched into him, threaded into every bit of muscle and sinew, running through every drop of blood, an infusion he was sure he would die without.

  Charlotte ate her dinner with little talk; Toby had the floor anyway, yakking on about his football match, dissecting the game in such a way it had ceased to even be a football game. It was more, a being all of its own, his adoration for it a little bit stunning, slightly confusing, and as much as she would never admit it to his face, a tiny bit boring. But that was alright, because he had Dad hanging on his every word and Mum listening with her fan girl face on, leaving Charlotte to relive, in her head, the most amazing sex she had ever had. Her shoulder still ached from where he had bitten it to stop himself from yelling out and drawing attention to them, but it was a good ache, an ache that made her ache in other places. Although, it might not be a bad idea to douse it in some disinfectant, just to be on the safe side. It would be an awkward thing to explain to her mother if she ended up with an infected shoulder.

  She and Toby had not spoken since this afternoon; there had not been an opportunity yet. Charlotte was beginning to despise this secrecy. First having to endure her best friend lusting after him and now not being able to hold his hand underneath the table or lean against him if she felt like it or kiss him on the back of the neck unless they were locked away in a dark room. She didn't think she would be able to stand it for much longer. Stealing a glance at her parents, assured their attention was fixed above the table, below, Charlotte reached out with her hand and made contact with Toby's leg, and on his thigh she drew a heart with her finger before pulling her hand back onto her own lap. If he noticed, he didn't let on, but she hadn't expected him to.

  And that was why she couldn't stand this anymore.

  "Dad, can I talk to you about something important?" Charlotte lingered in the doorway of her parent's bedroom, her father sitting back on the couch reading the paper while her mother was in the shower.

  "Sure can pretty little lady." He patted the cushion beside him. "Plonk yourself down here and have at it."

  She fell onto the couch beside him, tucking her legs up underneath her body and leaning her head onto his shoulder. "Dad, do you like Toby?"

  "Yes. I do. He's a good boy." Her father folded the paper in half and dropped it onto the floor.

  "Do you trust him?"

  "Yes. He hasn't done anything to give me a reason not to."

  Charlotte pondered her next words. She hadn't really planned out this conversation past the initial thought that she was having it. She was going to speak to her dad. Tonight. And then that was it. She decided to just plunge in, take her chances. "I like him." Stealing a glance at her father, she saw him smile.

  "Yes. I figured that."

  "When?"

  "At the airport when we picked him up nine months ago."

  "Dad!" She swatted him affectionately on the arm. "Be serious!"

  "Charlotte, it's very obvious. To me anyway. It's alright for you to like him. He's not your brother. He's no relation. It was always going to be a possibility and your mother and I discussed this before we agreed to take him in. I am somewhat surprised it's taken you this long to have this conversation with me."

  Charlotte shrugged at that. "Toby hasn't wanted to go out with me. He said he felt as though it might be taking advantage of what you and Mum are doing for him."

  Her father nodded before leaning down to give her a kiss on the top of her head. "And that, is part of the reason why I like that boy so much and have no problems with you two being a couple. He has integrity and he's honest. You can't get much better than that. Which is what I told him earlier tonight when he came and chatted to me much like you are right now, except he sat in a different chair to me and didn't put his head on my shoulder. I didn't kiss him either; I like him, but he's not my type." He laughed heartily, giving Charlotte's shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

  "Dad!! What? Are you serious? Toby came and talked to you? What did he say?" Charlotte sat up straight, looking at her father with some shock, and not a little nervousness at what he might now possibly know.

  Her father smiled knowingly. "Well, that's between Toby and I. But he came to me and asked me if it was alright for him to be your boyfriend. Because apparently, he is in love with you. At least, that's what he said to me."

  Charlotte sat stunned. That he had done this, the one thing he feared, to come right out and expose their relationship in such a disarmingly honest fashion. She put her hand to her chest, as if she could still the heavy thumping of her heart by containing it that way. "What did you say to him?"

  "That's the bit that's between Toby and I. You need to know three things: I said yes to the boyfriend bit. I told him to buy some condoms. And I told him he sleeps in his own ro
om, and you sleep in yours and you do not ever put your mother and me in the position of having to regret having you both under the same roof. There are some things I just don't want to see. You read me?" He looked at her carefully as she nodded her agreement, then he pat her gently on the shoulder before rising from the couch. "I'm going to have a shower. Night."

  "Mum's still in there."

  "I know." He winked at her as he turned to cross the room.

  "Dad! There are some things I just don't want to know either!" Charlotte felt her cheeks heat and she stood, a mental image now at the fore that should not be in her head, ever.

  "Then you'd better head off downstairs, missy. Have a nice night."

  She turned to leave but then spun on her heel, dashing across the room to leap on her father, her arms curling around his neck. "I love you, Daddy."

  He lifted her off of her feet with a full body squeeze. "I know. I love you too."

  After he released her Charlotte hurried down the stairs and made straight for Toby's room. He wasn't there, so she backtracked to her own, smiling when she saw him lying back against her pillows, reading a naughty fairy-tale. She closed the door behind her and launched herself onto the bed, landing right on top of him. She proceeded to kiss him repeatedly all over the face until he was able to get his bearings and laughingly push her back for air.

  "What was that for?"

  She looked down at him happily, resting her forehead against his. "You came out to my dad."

  He laughed then. "Yeah. Only so I can pinch your arse in front of everyone at school tomorrow and give you a very obvious tongue kiss when you spin around to tell me off. I have a rumour to debunk and short of wearing a t-shirt that says: 'I'm not a fag', this was the best I could come up with."

  Charlotte laughed at that. "Well, that should do it." She pressed her lips to his, kissing him slowly, drawing his bottom lip into her mouth before pulling back. "I went to talk to my dad about us because I didn't want to have to keep us a secret anymore and he let me talk away and only told me at the end that you'd already been to see him so he already knew everything I was going on about before I even went on about it." She shook her head, running her hand through Toby's hair. "Why did you do that?"

  He looked at her, his eyes serious, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "Because I am in love with you."

  She melted, her body now boneless on top of his, her pounding heart a sharp contrast to the liquefied nature of the rest of her form. "He told me you said that. It's a pretty impressive thing, telling a girl's father you love her. Before you even tell her."

  "I didn't know it before. Otherwise I might have already said it to you."

  "So, you only love me now because we had sex?" She was only half teasing, a part of her holding still in the hope he would protest that wasn't the case.

  "Charlotte, I don't love you because we had sex this afternoon. Although, I did know that I loved you while we were having sex, but it seemed really lame to say it then. So I didn't say it and I haven't seen you alone since then to say anything."

  "Did something happen then, before we had sex, to make you realise that you loved me?"

  He smiled then, kissing her lightly on her collarbone. "Yes. You sat in the stand all afternoon and watched me play football. And you never stopped looking at me. Each time I looked at you, you were already looking at me. And I thought to myself, that girl, she's mine. She has eyes only for me. The most beautiful girl on the stands, and she's all mine. And then I knew. That I love you. And then I got tackled to the ground and figured it was time to get my head back in the game, otherwise I'd look like a loser in front of the girl I love." He pressed his lips to her collarbone again before reaching up to move the neckline of her shirt aside, exposing her shoulder and the bite mark he had given her. He flinched, leaning forward to kiss it, delicately pressing his lips to the inflamed skin, over and over.

  Charlotte kissed him on the cheek, working her way across his face until she reached the corner of his mouth, drawing his lips away from her shoulder so she could touch them to her own. They kissed for a long time, slowly, with a tenderness that was new to both of them.

  "Toby," she whispered.

  He put his finger to her lips. "You don't have to say it just because I did."

  She shook her head. "I'm not. I was just going to tell you that I think that's one of the most romantic declarations I've ever come across."

  "Well, that's kind of impressive given how many books you've read on the topic. I wasn't too sure if I could beat the guy shagging his sister in the attic, or the creeper lusting after his niece, or the newly released sex slave, but I did try my best."

  Charlotte pressed her face into his chest, her laughter mixing with his. "Well, those are all very hard to meet standards," she replied with jest.

  "You know, I have to reject you tonight because your dad said if he found out I was having sex with you without a condom he would castrate me. I think he's taken Jenna's situation to heart. So, since I have no condoms, you and I are just cuddling. I am in no way convinced he was anything other than serious. I may love you, but not that much." Toby wrapped his arms around Charlotte tighter, as if to prove his point.

  "Given what's happened with Jenna, I suppose we should consider ourselves lucky we didn't get a ban on anything other than hand holding. Anyway, I have condoms, so it's all good."

  Toby released her as she squirmed beneath him. "You do?"

  "Yes." Charlotte was triumphant. "Jenna gave me heaps ages ago."

  "Perhaps she should have kept them for herself," Toby pointed out, with no small measure of sarcasm.

  "Toby," Charlotte admonished.

  "Sorry. But seriously."

  "Dermott led her on. He gave her an impression of their future together that wasn't true." Charlotte stood and raced to her wardrobe. She ducked her head into the depths and crawled halfway in, rummaging around noisily and cursing as something tumbled down on top of her.

  "Where did you put them?"

  "Where no mother shall ever go." Rising to her feet, she turned to face him, and holding her hand up, she produced a strip of condoms with glee. As she jumped onto the bed, Toby reached out and grabbed them from her, reading the packets. "These are flavoured with Bailey's?"

  Charlotte nodded as Toby looked at her dubiously. She rolled her eyes at him then and ripped one out of his hand. "Do I have to teach you everything?" Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his. Smiling against his mouth, she pulled back ever so slightly, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Check the packet for alcohol content. I might get drunk sucking you off and then you can take advantage of me while I'm too wiped out to protest."

  Toby burst out with laughter, grabbing her by the shoulders and pinning her beneath him. "As if I'd have to take advantage of you! But don't let me stop you from seeing how many condoms it takes to get you buzzed." He buried his face into her hair, nibbling at her neck, his breath tickling her.

  Charlotte melted beneath him, wanting so much to say the words to him that he had said to her, to tell him how she felt, but they lodged in her throat and the moment seemed gone, filled with laughter and dirty jokes about flavoured condoms. But she felt it; she felt it for him so deeply, that she wondered if she would even be able to articulate the depth of it into words.

  Toby didn't get as far as pinching Charlotte on the arse, all it took was turning up at the front of the school with her hand tucked into his to get the comments flowing. Ellie shot Charlotte the middle finger, but she was smiling nonetheless as she strolled up to them.

  "Nice one, Charlotte. You might have just said something. I never would have gone on about him if I knew he was with you."

  Charlotte shrugged. "I couldn't. Long story, I'll talk to you later. How was number seven?"

  "A limp dick. Not such a long story, but I'll still tell you later." Ellie laughed as Toby looked over at her with a pained expression.

  "I really don't want to hear things like that." His anguish was in no way put o
n.

  Charlotte laughed along with Ellie, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. He pulled her closer, relishing the opportunity to be openly affectionate towards her.

  "Holy shit!" Damian, an occasional friend of Toby's, sauntered over, a wide grin fixed to his face. "Hope you wore a condom, that's a well-travelled road my friend."

  Before anyone could even register the move, Toby had dropped Charlotte's hand, thrown his bag onto the ground, and punched the guy in the face so hard a spray of crimson hit the front of Toby's shirt. Damian screamed once before launching himself at Toby, enraged, despite being considerably shorter and far less built in comparison. He managed to hit Toby once, a sloppy punch to the side of his head, but Toby was well practiced at warding off punches. He barely registered the feel of his fist against the other guy's body, could see no one else around him, could hear no sounds other than that of his own blood pounding in his ears, a steady rush of adrenalin fuelling his anger.

  Reality returned as arms took hold of his on both sides. The first thing he noticed was the heavy smell of blood, such a familiar smell, yet this time it was coating his own hands, splattered upon his own shirt, and he took in the sight before him with a sort of detached horror, a disconnection from reality. Toby had never hit another person in his life; had always resisted the urge to act on any angry impulse. Even in football he hesitated to inflict too much physical force, his fear of turning out like his father so deeply entrenched. This guy lying on the ground in front of him was a friend of his, and he had not only hit him once and then defended himself from a return hit, he had taken it to the next level and proceeded to turn his friend into a bloody, writhing mess on the ground. What scared him the most, was that he had no real solid memory of the encounter, despite it having happened only mere minutes ago.

  A rush of sickness moved through him as he broke away from those who were still holding him back, turning rapidly to stumble a few paces away, vomit flying out of him. Toby heaved repeatedly, a cold sweat spreading over his body. He was dimly aware of movement and voices surrounding him, but he could not stop heaving, could not even take a breath without feeling overcome again. He stepped away from the mess on the street and sank to the curb, sitting with his head between his legs, breathing heavily.