His Secret

by Brisa Starr

  Me: Hi. It’s Alyson. I owe you an apology. Thank you, for tonight.

  Adron: You’re welcome.

  He doesn’t text anything else, but I don’t want the conversation to end.

  Me: Were you waiting for me in the parking lot?

  Adron: Yes.

  Me: Why?

  Adron: I wanted to.

  Me: What happened to your date?

  Adron: She’s not the one.

  Me: The one?

  Adron: Good night.

  Whoa. Now I’m really intrigued. “The one.” What does that mean? I’m filled with a sense of relief, not the first time tonight. Though that shouldn’t matter because I’m not in the market to be “the one” either. But… it means there might be hope for… something? A fun fling, maybe? We’ll see.

  6

  Adron

  I don’t even know what got into me last night. When I came home and saw her car gone, I was curious, but I didn’t go looking for her. I just wanted to go somewhere that I could sit alone in a corner and watch people.

  And then I saw her.

  She looked so cute… and happy. I wanted to sip from her bubbly effervescence, and once I found her, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. My earlier date, if you could call her that, was a complete disaster. Shocking, I know. Nothing to talk about, zero common interests. Ugly opposites, in fact.

  Nothing like the ball of energy that Alyson is. I like her firecracker boldness and defiance, and her beautiful face and sexy body blind me. I admit, I also admire her sense of adventure, maybe even envy it. I like the total package.

  I would like to get to know her more, but something stops me every time I think to ask her something, or to let her in on more about me. I just don’t think it makes sense to pursue her because I might waste my time. The time that’s running out.

  But I like her. And I know she likes me, too, but not how I need. I have to find a wife, and one who loves me. No small order.

  When I saw that asshole with his hands on her though, I exploded with jealousy and rage, twisting my insides into a corkscrew. The first thing I thought was she’s fucking mine.

  But she’s not.

  A week of long and hot days drag by. We see each other here, and there, in passing, with minor exchanges between us. Some salty and some sweet. I also catch glimpses of her when she’s walking the dogs or when she comes and goes from the house. My attraction to her is only deepening, and desire pulses in my veins with each glance. I try to keep my distance, but it doesn’t help.

  My schedule allows me to seek the cool air of the night, so I stay up late writing music. I still feel lost with my situation, and the night’s quiet darkness calms me. Some nights, when my windows are open and I’m playing my music, I see her open hers in the dark, and I wonder if she’s listening to me. I hope she is.

  She seems happy and content with her life. If I asked my cock, it would tell me to grab her and kiss her hard, carry her to my bed and claim her as mine. I want to. I think she’d let me do anything and everything – except the “claim her as mine” part. But I don’t know if that’s the right move, pursuing her. The inheritance weighs heavily on me, and the guilt from my parents pressures me even harder. I haven’t decided what to do yet.

  It’s almost 6:00 a.m., her usual time to take the dogs for their morning walk. I know her schedule, and I stay up a little later, having been up all night, to watch her before I go to bed. She’s good with Auntie’s animals, and that warms my heart. Once she’s gone back inside, I go to sleep.

  A few hours later, there’s a knock on my door, and I know it’s her. I’m not sure why she’s here, but I’m not angry that she’s waking me too early. Feeling cocky, I answer the door in my boxer briefs. I think she likes me in these.

  “Good morning. I’m sorry if I woke you,” she says and smiles at me.

  “Hey,” I say and run my hand through my hair. My cock stirs, waking up before my brain.

  “Sammy invited us to a party at Bartlett Lake today. I know it’s probably not your thing…” she looks away and then back, meeting my gaze head on and continues, “but I was hoping you’d go.”

  She looks a little shy. That’s cute.

  “I don’t do those parties,” I say.

  She drops her chin and frowns. But the thought of seeing her in a little bikini, jumping between pontoon boats full of drunk assholes, awakens the jealous beast in me.

  “Fuck it. I’ll go,” I decide.

  She brightens like sun reflecting off fresh snow, and her eyes shine. “Oh! Great. I’m glad to hear that,” she says and looks at me with a look… is it… hope? I can’t tell. Maybe she’s been thinking about me this past week as much as I’ve been thinking about her. A wall of unasked questions sits between us, and it’ll stay there for now. But if I go to this party, at least I can keep an eye on her.

  “Sammy will pick us up in an hour.”

  I never put myself at the whims of other people. “I’ll drive myself and see you there,” I say. And just before I close the door, I add, “You’ll want sunscreen. Do you have any?”

  “Um, yeah. OK, thanks.”

  I close the door, tired, and not looking forward to the day, but looking forward to being with her. I drink an espresso and step under the shower. I hang my head, leaning against the tiled wall. Water sprays down on the top of my head and gushes down my face. I can’t get her out of my mind.

  I look down and see my cock is hard as steel. I grab my shaft and stroke it, imagining Alyson is on her knees, in front of me right here in the shower, her mouth open. Fuuuck. Yes. I stroke faster and faster, and I come quickly, imagining I’m shooting my cum into her begging mouth, all over those full, ruby lips. I exhale loudly.

  I can’t say I feel good, but at least there’s a slight amount of relief. The only real relief will come when she spreads her legs in front of me.

  I pull into the parking lot at Bartlett Lake and see several pontoon boats roped together. In theory, it looks fun, but it’s just not my jam. In fact, it’s more like my worst nightmare. But then I see her, all the way from where I’m walking across the parking lot. I see that cute bobbed haircut and her tight little body clad in a tiny, watermelon print bikini.

  This is the first time I’ve gotten a good look at her body, and my dick immediately springs to life, causing me to adjust my gait to avoid it being noticeable. Her breasts are ample, belly flat, and her ass looks like two ripe melons, high and round, just begging to be pounded as I take her from behind.

  Shit. If I don’t think about something else, no amount of gait adjustment is going to hide anything. I’m about to look like I brought a goddamn fishing rod to the party. I quickly try to divide 83 by 17 in my head, and my rod subsides. Works every time.

  I make my way to one of the pontoon boats and shake hands with a few people I know, just acquaintances really. People I’ve known since I was little, when Auntie Jenna would have people over for barbecues and get-togethers at her house. All the kids would come, and we’d run around playing. But because I didn’t live here year-round or go to school here, I never became close to any of them.

  Alyson sees me and smiles. She comes over carrying a red plastic Solo cup full of beer. “Do you want one?” she asks.

  “Sure,” I reply, drinking her in. “Did you put on sunscreen?”

  “Yes,” she says, and there’s a spark of desire. She smiles at me, and my heart beats erratically.

  She walks away to get me a beer, and I get a good look at that gorgeous ass of hers, when I realize I’m not the only one looking at her. Too many of the locals see her as fresh meat since she’s not from around here. Jealousy streaks through me. She brings back the beer, and I take a long drink, polishing off half of it immediately. After all, it’s fucking hot out.

  “Thirsty?” she asks and gives me a knowing smile.

  What does she think she knows with that smile? Just then, there’s an announcement over a loudspeaker, “Cannonball jump! Everybody who’s taking par
t come up to the upper deck!”

  “Cannonball jump?” she exclaims, wide-eyed with excitement.

  “I don’t recommend it,” I warn.

  I might as well have double-dog dared her. “Hold my beer,” she says, handing me her cup, and I watch her bounce off to the upper deck.

  Shit.

  Now I have to get up and go watch to make sure she’s OK. She is one foxy little daredevil. I shake my head as I follow her up the aluminum ladder to the upper deck, wanting to take a bite out of her ass.

  We get to the top, and she lines up with everyone at one end. Somebody shouts the countdown, “Three, two, one… jump!” Everybody in line runs to the other side and jumps off the top deck screaming, airborne, and tucking their legs in, Alyson included. A giant splash hits the boat as everyone crashes into the water together.

  I look over the edge at the misty foam of bubbles rising to the lake surface, and my heart pounds in my chest until I finally see her emerge from the water. She shakes the water from her face, laughing and smiling, joyful and carefree, like a child. I’m relieved and find myself grinning at her contagious exuberance. Her pure joy calls to something deep inside me, something I’ve ignored for so long, I assumed it was dead.

  I climb back down the lower deck, to my earlier seat in the shade, carrying our two beers, expecting to see her momentarily. Relief comforts me when I spot her across the boat, climbing up out of the water. She sees me and heads toward me.

  I extend her beer toward her, and she takes it from my hand and stands before me, glistening wet, looking curvy but lean and stunning in her bikini. “Thanks!” she says. “That was SO fun!” she squeals, her eyes glittering. “I was scared shitless jumping off that high, but I couldn’t resist.”

  “Neither can I,” I mutter under my breath, thinking about how tempting she is. I may have to do something about this later tonight.

  She whips her head sharply to me, “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  She looks me up and down, “You look good,” she says bravely.

  “So do you,” I say quietly, and she doesn’t look away. In fact, she challenges me with her eyes, drawing me in.

  Sammy interrupts our moment and plops down in a seat next to me. Alyson sits down, too.

  “Hey, Adron,” Sammy says. “How’re ya doing?”

  “Good, Sammy. You?”

  “Doing damn fine. Well, fine except that asshole ex-boyfriend of mine is trying to get back with me.”

  “Jake?” I ask.

  “Yeah. I gave him the boot three months ago when I caught his stupid ass cheating on me.”

  “Fucker,” I mutter, and Alyson gasps at the same time, saying, “What! I’m so sorry to hear that Sammy! Some prick cheated on you?” Horror and disgust hit her face, which I can’t help but appreciate, as it gives me a glimpse into her values.

  “Yeah,” Sammy says and continues, “he’s begging me to come back, tells me what a mistake it was and how much he loves me.” She shakes her head, but I can see the heartbreak in her eyes.

  Alyson interrupts her, “I don’t care what someone says. If someone cheats, then they’re nothing but a bald-faced liar.”

  I see Alyson getting livid, and I’ve not seen this side of her. I can’t say I’m surprised; she’s full of fire even when she’s calm. But pissed? Hell, I can feel the heat from where I’m sitting, and it’s not even directed at me.

  Sammy moans, “I know. We’d been together for so long, and when he did that, I was blindsided. I didn’t think it was possible. But it was, and the bastard did it.”

  “That’s disgusting, what a fuckface,” says Alyson, overflowing with rage. “No one deserves to be cheated on. I would never forgive him for cheating and lying. If someone lies to me, they’re dead to me.”

  I swallow, hard. Shit. If she and I were to become close, I would eventually need to tell her... everything. The inheritance, and the conditions that I marry and have a child. The extra burden of my parents’ inheritance, too.

  The problem is, there will never be a good time to tell her. If I tell her early, the knowledge will influence and distort our relationship, and make her doubt my intentions. It might even make me doubt hers. But if I wait until we’re tight, and have established total trust, then she will rightly feel that I have been dishonest with her, withholding this important aspect of me. There literally is no possible time to tell her without impacting the trust in our relationship, and shattering everything.

  Double shit. Dead before it even started.

  But I like her. There’s something about her, something inexplicable there. Our worlds collided, and I don’t want them to part.

  Alyson and Sammy get up and head to another boat, talking with some other girls. Sammy introduces Alyson to everyone, which is fine by me, so long as she sticks to introductions with the female gender. She doesn’t get so far from me that I can’t see her, so I stay put where I am.

  A couple more hours go by, and I’m tired of the party and tired of watching Alyson and not taking action. I finally get up and walk over to her and take her by the hand, pulling her off to the side.

  She gasps at my touch, as though I burned her creamy soft skin, and I immediately drop her hand.

  “I’m taking off now. Are you coming home with Sammy later, or do you want to come home with me now?” I look deeply into her eyes, willing her to choose me. Weaving my web and hoping she steps into it.

  She does.

  “You,” she whispers.

  I grab her hand again and pull her next to me. As we’re walking off the boat, she hollers, “Bye Sammy, I’m having Adron take me home. Thanks for inviting me!”

  We both turn to see Sammy smile, waving back, giving us a wink.

  We walk hand-in-hand, and I can’t let go. I think she’s a bit uncomfortable, or maybe she’s just surprised, but she’s not letting go, either. I’ve been staring at her in a bikini for hours. Desire scorches through me, desperate, like I’m running out of oxygen, and I want to pin her to my car and fuck her senseless.

  But we’re not ready for that. I don’t even know what we’re ready for. I don’t know how to take the next step, but dammit, I’m going to do something. The electrical current flowing between our interlocked fingers pulses in my veins. I take her to the passenger side of the car and open the door for her.

  “Thank you,” she says softly, and she reluctantly lets go of my hand. I look at her as I close the door and walk over to the driver’s side. I slide into my seat and start the car’s engine, its low growl and pent-up power mimicking my own predatory feelings for Alyson.

  I’m drawn to her and decide that I’ll throw caution to the wind and see where this takes us. I say nothing, and I pull out of the parking lot, feeling the electricity crackle between us more than ever. I want so badly to reach over and touch her smooth, shapely leg, but I resist.

  Halfway home, neither one of us has said a thing, when she breaks the silence. “You know what they say about guys with super fast cars don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t, actually.” I give her a sidelong glance and she giggles, covering her mouth and says, “Oh, wait! That’s guys with the yellow sports cars.” And she laughs again.

  Laughing with her I say, intrigued, “Oh yeah? I can’t wait to hear this. What is it they say about guys with yellow sports cars?”

  She doesn’t skip a beat and answers, “Tiny penis.” And she’s dead serious.

  “I thought that’s what they said about guys with big trucks,” I say.

  She giggles. “Probably them, too.”

  “What do they say about the dick size of men with black sports cars?” I ask her.

  She gulps at this, and blushes. I can out-candid her all day long, if she wants. In fact, it would be fun.

  She composes herself and replies. “I suppose they say their dick size is… a mystery.”

  Well played, Alyson.

  Damn, I want to fuck her. Patience, dude.

  Our silence, which is so
common and usually comfortable between us, is now suddenly thick with tension. She looks at me and takes a sharp intake of breath, her eyes laced with fire and passionate desire. I look away, keeping my eyes on the road, and I still feel her fiery stare boring into me. A carnal wave of lust blasts into my pelvis and I feel the blood rushing to my cock.

  I see her with my peripheral vision, and she looks away, and with a quick side glance, I see her chest heaving. We sit in heavy silence the rest of the way home. As we’re pulling onto the road that leads to the house, I notice dark clouds to the east, a monstrous anvil cloud, flashing with lightning inside. “Looks like we’re in for a storm tonight. Monsoon storms are my favorite, and especially out here in the desert.”

  “Will that cool the temperature down at least?”

  “A little, yeah, but not for long. And the humidity goes up, too,” I sigh and continue, “but I like the heat.”

  “I know you do.”

  I look at her, my eyebrows raised in question.

  She shrugs. “I watch you exercise in the crazy heat.”

  I’m pleased. I had hoped she’d been watching me.

  We arrive at Auntie’s house and I pull into the driveway. I get out of the car and walk around to open her door. I like that she waited for me to do it. Me getting her door is just good manners… her waiting is something else, it marks a change in our relationship, like the hand-holding. We’re no longer just housemates. This was a date.

  We walk up to the front of the main house and she turns toward me, her lips parted softly. She looks beautiful, and my need for her is overwhelming. The storm to the east is still brewing, the breeze smells of ozone, picking up as it gets closer, and I wonder if the hot electricity that’s thickening the air is from the elements, or us.