by Neal, Xavier
Archer's answer is blunt. “No.”
Sexually frustrated, I ruffle my curly hair determined to bring myself down from the erotic high he yanked me into.
“Night, Jaye,” he says softly as he turns his body to head for the garage. Steps from the door he adds, “Lock your door.”
“Night,” I call back before flopping backwards on the stairs.
I don't wanna lock my door. I want him to come into my room, spread my legs and just take me. You know, I realize just how pathetically pornographic that might sound, but I haven't had sex in years! I haven't even had a pair of lips on mine since....Oh. Oh...Huh. Archer knows that doesn't he? He knows Chris was the last man I was with and doesn't wanna pressure me into anything or move too fast and risk whatever is here between us. I can't fault him for that. Damn it! Masturbating just seems like a cruel alternative to having him on top of me until the sun rises again. God if sex is anywhere in the ballpark of how well he kisses, I may need some days for mental preparation. Just sayin...
Archer
I'm fucked. No. I mean fucked. The last thing I needed was to take shit where we took it yesterday. Don't get me wrong. Jaye was....fuck me, even better than I had imagined she would be. Softer. Sexier. She was like your favorite moment in a porn. The one that makes your cock twitch to come. That single slice of a second where you just can't take it anymore. Jaye is that moment on fucking repeat. Eyes up. Off my crotch. So what if I've got a fucking hard on thinking about it, the important thing is I didn't act on it. I went to bed. Rubbed one or three out for the night. Made her lock her door....It's not like I would ever hurt a woman, but I know if I went up to her room, she wouldn't tell me no even though she should. She's not ready for that shit yet. She may think she is, but she's not. She's still holding onto too much of her dead fiancé for me fucking her to be a good idea. And before you go off on some I sound like a pussy tangent, I don't. No man likes to sleep with a chick and wonder if every time his cock thrusts inside she's picturing or comparing to her ex. No. In that moment you want all chips in. You wanna be the only thing she's thinking. Besides, I care about her too much to push her into something she's not ready for. Even if I didn't admit it out loud like she did, I care about her too. A lot.
Most of the morning, after our gym trip, Jaye works on her children's book at the dining room table while I pack up Chris' old office space.
She decided about a week ago she wanted to take the space for herself and asked if it could be my next project. She picked out a paint color, but struggled deciding on furniture. I agreed to pack his things away for her and paint the place. Gives me a new project to work on while avoiding the grim reality no matter how many resumes and applications I've filled out, no one wants to fucking hire me. It's been about a month now. Jaye says these things take time. Fuck. Time is all I have at this point.
I carefully stack his books in a box before sealing it and moving onto another shelf. This one is filled with awards and photos of him with what I assume are well known individuals in the business world. As I pack his things away, I find myself slightly puzzled.
There's not a single photo of Jaye in this office. Not one of her or them together. It's stale. Cold. Completely business oriented yet you would think he would want something to remember the woman he loved during all that right? Am I wrong? Do you ever wonder if maybe she wasn't his only...fuck it. I didn't say that.
During my trips downstairs, I take small moments to check in on her, but keep a good distance from the project she's working on.
She hasn't shown me whatever it is. She hasn't offered. It's her s . I respect that. When she's ready she'll share. I hope. Did I really just say hope? What the fuck is wrong with me?
The day flies by faster than I realize. Just as I'm sealing the last of his things in a box, Jaye leans against the door frame. “It looks....so empty in here.”
I stand up and lean against his wooden desk. “He had a lot of shit to clear out.”
She hums while her eyes wander around the room. “Did you find anything I would wanna keep? Like old photos of us? I have a box filled with that sort of stuff and just wanna make sure it all stays together.”
Fuck me. This is uncomfortable.
My voice strains to stay even. “I didn't come across anything.”
“Oh,” the single word reeks of dejection.
Wanting to comfort her but unsure that's possible without looking like a jackass trying to one up her dead almost husband, I simply fold my arms across my chest.
She slowly pulls her hair to one side of her face, shaking away whatever emotions are scraping their way through her system. “Um...dinner?”
“That's a meal of the day. Yeah.”
A hint of a smile appears. “I meant...what do you wanna do for dinner?”
“Wasn't there talk of Netflix and a couch today?”
She giggles, a sound I find myself anxious for more and more every day. “We can do that. How about I order pizza?”
“Even better.”
“Pepperoni, black olives, and mushrooms?”
It's my turn to smile. “You remember.”
“Of course.” Jaye wiggles her eyebrows. “How about I bake some of my famous chocolate chip cookies too?”
“Now you're just playing dirty.” I wag my finger at her. After she laughs, I say, “Want me to help with anything?”
“I've got it,” she answers kindly. “Why don't you just put the last of the boxes in the garage, grab a shower, and meet me on the couch. I'll introduce you to my latest guilty pleasure.”
Instinctively my dick threatens to grow.
Blame him. I dare you.
“It's a total chick show isn't it?”
“Not total,” Jaye playfully snickers before sticking her tongue out at me.
“You're lucky you're cute.”
“That's not luck. That's genetic.” Her playful comeback is followed by her exit.
Instead of immediately returning to my task, I find myself lingering in the moment we just had.
What do you mean I'm sprung? I'm not. I just...she's a wonderful woman. Kind. Funny. Sexy. Wait. That last part is just a bonus. You know what, shouldn't you be somewhere else, doing something else rather than judging my life? If you'll excuse me, I have some heavy as fuck boxes to take downstairs.
After a hot, well-earned shower, I meet Jaye in the kitchen where she's mixing cookie dough. My presence doesn't even register, which makes me smile. She continues working, using the edge of her middle finger to taste the batter. I watch intently as her tongue snakes out to test the combined ingredients.
I've had that fucking thing in my mouth. It's dangerous. Dangerous enough to make me blindly enter a war zone I'm not ready for.
Jaye lets out a little pleased hum and my cock throbs in response.
Sometimes he's a pain in the ass.
I clear my throat. “Need some help?”
“Taste this,” she demands holding out her dough tipped finger.
How Adam was persuaded to eat that apple is becoming more and more clear.
My mouth cracks open and her finger slips inside creating an intimate moment I wasn't prepared for. Slowly I suck, my tongue memorizing every curve of the delicate appendage, while my mind observes the way her free hand clutches the bowl tighter. The moment Jaye's bottom lip slips between her teeth, I let go.
Trying to casually adjust the hard on in my shorts I state, “Tastes great.”
Her mouth moves but the words are lost. She nods and turns, her hair creating a curtain to shelter her face.
“Pizza on its way?”
“Should be here any minute,” she comments spooning the dough onto a cookie sheet. “These will be all cooled down by the time we're done.”
“Sounds perfect.”
When she turns to look at me this time, her brown eyes seem to be filled with more emotion than sexual tension.
Not really sure which was is better. Both look fucking beautiful.
“Th
e show is loaded up and ready. I'll grab us something to drink. Beer?”
“Yeah,” I answer and head for the couch before any more trouble can occur in the kitchen.
We haven't done...anything since last night. In fact there's no real evidence anything has changed between us other than my dick now immediately popping up at the sight of her lips now instead of needing a moment to stare. My cock may be a traitor.
As she predicted the pizza shows up seconds after she slips the cookies in the oven. The two of us settle on the couch where we open the box and dive in.
Jaye starts the show two bites in and I ask, “What's this called again?”
“Unbreakable,” she coos. “It's the awesome show about this MMA fighter who is secretly in love with his best friend. It's soooo good.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Sounds like a chick show.”
“Give it a chance. It's really good. You're gonna love it.”
“Love?”
Jaye has a sharp bite of pizza before sternly saying, “Love.”
Doubt it. Has all the makings of a pathetic cringe worthy chick flick drawn out over a longer period of time. I will say it beats the hell out of possibly having a mental break down because lights trigger something inside of me I can't control.
The two of us blow through an extra-large pizza and a half of dozen of the best cookies I've ever eaten in my entire life. While I only have a couple beers, I'm slightly surprised she sticks with only water. The biggest shock isn't her choice not to join me in a relaxing beverage, but the fact I'm actually being sucked into the show.
“How can he not see how hot she is?” I complain having another swig of my beer.
“Right!” Jaye giggles and reaches for the blanket on the edge of the couch.
“He is a helluva a fighter though. Every fight is like the real deal.” Realizing I'm gushing about the show, I peer down to see her smirking. “I don't love this show.”
“You love this show.”
I shrug. “It's not bad.”
“It's okay,” she sighs as she leans her back against my chest. “I won't tell.”
After placing my beer bottle on the coffee table, I adjust my body to allow her to cuddle in closer, body angled in the perfect position for me to wrap my arms around her.
Which I'm not going to do. Nope. Look, it's hard enough with her pressed against me smelling like sweet and spicy seduction. The last thing I need is to have my hands on her. Resisting the urge to explore her body won't be an option this time around.
Jaye pulls the blanket over her body at the same time I extend my arm around the back of the couch, leaving the other to rest on the arm. Another episode of the show starts, but it doesn't matter. My attention is being yanked down to the gorgeous coffee colored slice of heaven I haven't been able to get off my mind for weeks. Doing my best not to let my eyes wander down the sleep tank top she slipped into, I don't seem to be able to stop them from drinking in the side view of her legs in a pair of shorts too short for anything good.
Something fucking hot maybe. Something fucking dirty and rough most definitely.
Feeling my temperature rise, I stifle the urge to adjust myself before she's clued into what's on my mind. The moment I divert my attention back to the TV, the worst possible thing begins to happen.
You've got to be fucking kidding.
Slowly, the MMA fighter whose name I can't recall for the fucking life of me, starts to finger bang the very girl he was trying to resist.
The fucking TV is mocking me. I didn't think it was possible to get more sexually annoyed. I was clearly wrong.
Jaye's body tenses against mine, her hand sliding towards my hard on. I clench my jaw to prevent the growing groan from escaping. Suddenly her body twists so her face is leering up at me, desire screaming so strongly that if I don't get up right now, I can't be held responsible for what happens next.
Weakly she whispers, “Archer...”
With what feels like no control over my own movements, the hand that was gripping the arm of the couch slides down her curves, briefly teasing her nipples before heading for her thick thighs, where I grip harshly. The second she whimpers I drop my mouth on top of hers determined to capture the sound, determined to suck it straight out of her into me like it's the only thing that's going to keep my alive.
Fuck. It might be.
Languorously my tongue whirls around hers, the taste of chocolate littering every lap. Her body grinds against mine eventually parting her legs as if offering an invitation. The idea of that alone is enough to strip me of all my inhibitions. Realizing it, I begin to pull back when she grabs me by the shirt forcing my mouth to consume her even rougher. Unable to keep my other arm from joining the escalating situation, I slide it down her other thigh, the feeling of her sensitive bare flesh enough to make me blow a load.
God, help me not embarrass myself.
Jaye melts into my touches, her whimpers sounding more like delicious prayers dedicated to a deity. Before I have a chance to back down again, the kiss escalates another level, tongues crying out for a contender in the battle of control. My hands suddenly tug at her shorts pleading for permission to move further. It's immediately granted when she arches against me. Our lips lightly linger as my hand slides underneath the barrier. Stunned at the soft, smooth surprise, a low savage growl seeps out. Jaye gasps when my finger brushes her clit, yet cries out during the invasion into the soaking wet heaven. Her head dips backwards, another breathless moan pulling me into the pit of elation that I know will be the inevitable death of me.
Can't actually imagine a better death at the moment.
Slowly I add a finger, lower my lips to her ear, and whisper, “I don't think I can stop.”
She moans, “Then don't.”
Her encouragement reaches my fingers before my brain. They rock in and out as her body curls into the motions, clearly craving more of my touch. I fight the urge to bury my face in her neck knowing I don't wanna miss a single sexual offering being submitted to me. My palm presses firmly against her clit, which causes Jaye's hand to clutch my shirt again. It feels like the thin fabric is the only thing stopping her from tumbling over the edge of ecstasy.
The feeling of her pussy clenching around my fingers warns me she's seconds from giving me the thing I've been hungriest for.
“Let me see you come, Jaye,” I demand, increasing the speed.
Without trying to hold her orgasm at bay, she explodes on a sharp cry, shooting upward until I pull her beautiful body back wanting the waves of her euphoria to rip through me. Riding the high alongside her, I use the little willpower I have left in me to keep my cock from following her example and coming.
I watch Jaye struggle to catch her breath while I carefully remove my fingers. The sight of her hair ruffled, her face overheated, her lips parted, and her eyes unable to open has my mind working in overdrive on how to get her naked so I can get inside.
My lips brush her ear once more. “Please tell me you want me to do that again...”
She whimpers, her body limp in my arms. “I don't know that I can handle that again.”
Hearing her confession causes my cock to harden past the point of no return.
Masturbating again is gonna feel like some sort of new age hell.
“But I damn sure wanna try.”
The words grab another vehement grumble out of me.
Fuck. Can I survive another round of watching her come without my cock inside? Like she said...I damn sure wanna try.
Archer
Pulling up to the stop light, Jaye shoots me a small smile.
Over the last couple weeks we've spent a few nights on the couch, making out and exploring how perfect it sounds when she comes. I haven't let her touch me yet. Part of the reason is because I don't know the last time I was checked out. I don't even remember the last time I had sex, but I do know the last thing I want is for her to catch something from me. That would be fucked up right? She gives me the gift of a second chance at life
and I take hers away? Nope.
“You okay?” She asks accelerating. “You've been a little quiet today.”
“I'm fine,” I lie. “You sure you have time for this?”
“It's cool,” Jaye assures, switching lanes. “I'm just taking an extended lunch break. It's really not a problem.”
“But the price of this is.”
“Archer-”
“I haven't had medical bills in a few years but I remember they aren't cheap. Especially without insurance. Maybe we should just wait until I've got a job...”