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BENCHED

Page 12

by Abigail Graham


  The grass is a little long. Our yard isn’t really that impressive, it’s just grass. When I got the place, I figured I’d build all this beautiful garden and things for my daughter to play in, but keeping the grass from getting too high is all I can manage. Always with the too-high expectations.

  Why can’t I shut up in my own head for five minutes and enjoy a nice fall day with my kid?

  For the next few hours, I do just that. Lounge in the hammock, then drive her to Dairy Queen.

  “Honey, stay here,” I tell her as we return to the house. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay,” she says, the words slurring into a big yawn as she flops on the couch.

  I step out the front door, lock it behind me, and step over to Alex’s place. He answers on the third knock.

  “Hi,” I say, trying to tamp down my excitement.

  “Hey, come in.”

  “I can’t, no one is watching Carrie. I just wanted to say hi, and um, make sure we’re on for tomorrow.”

  “Of course,” he says. “I can’t wait. When should I come over?”

  “Um, two-ish. I’m supposed to be there at three.”

  He grins. “Will do.”

  God, he’s gorgeous.

  “Okay then.”

  I’m still standing on his porch. Staring at him.

  “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

  I step back with a little wave, feeling like an awkward schoolgirl again. He starts to swing the door shut, and I dart up and just take a step inside. He reads my intentions perfectly, dips down, and kisses me.

  “I’m looking forward to it,” I tell him.

  I’m almost giddy as I walk back. When I step inside my own house, I have to suppress my grin. Carrie gives me a quizzical look, her lips pursed in a half-smile. I sit down next to her.

  “You went out with Alex.”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Do you like him?”

  I sigh.

  I don’t want to get her hopes up. As much as it pains me, I know that sometimes I’m not enough for her. Even though it’s always been this way, she knows she doesn’t have a dad and it sets her apart from the other kids. Some part of me has always wanted to find one for her, but I just couldn’t do that to myself again. I wasn’t ready to take that risk.

  I still don’t know if I am. It’s going to be odd introducing him to everyone.

  By the time Carrie is yawning and fading out, I’m ready for bed myself. I walk her upstairs, tuck her in, and leave her to fall asleep.

  Me? Sleep tonight? I could laugh at the idea. I toss and turn, get up, pace the room, check all the doors and windows, pace some more, toss and turn, and finally fall asleep around three in the morning for a fitful four or five hours before Carrie wakes me up, pushing on my shoulder.

  She made me breakfast. Or tried to, anyway. I don’t let her touch the stove yet, but she warmed Pop Tarts and poured me a glass of milk. I ruffle her hair and hug her close, and sit to eat with her.

  By mid-afternoon, I’m almost bouncing up and down with excitement. I have to wear a dress, which means I have to wear the same outfit as last night. It’s the only non-pants clothing I own.

  I forgot to tell Alex how to dress. I worry over that as I put up my hair and dab on some lipstick. It feels as foreign to me as the dress, but I can’t go to Hailey’s house without makeup.

  There’s a knock at the door. By the time I reach the foyer, Carrie has already let Alex in. To my relief, he’s in khakis and a collared shirt. The short sleeves bare his powerful arms and the fabric pulls tightly across his broad, powerful chest.

  “Ready?”

  I nod.

  He leans down.

  “Why are you wearing the same outfit?”

  “It’s the only dress I have,” I whisper back.

  “It’s making me think about Friday night.”

  I swallow.

  “Try not to think about Friday night too obviously. I can’t have you walking around Hailey’s party with a thinking-about-Friday-night in your pants.”

  “Are you wearing underwear?” he purrs in my ear.

  I flinch. “Yes.”

  “Go back upstairs and take them off.”

  I pull back and blink. “What?”

  “Now.”

  Heat flickers through my body. It feels like my limbs want to start floating.

  Why am I doing this? I ask myself, as I dart up the stairs.

  I close the door, hike up my skirt, and yank down my panties. I toss them on the bed and walk back down.

  My skirt falls to mid-calf so I’m perfectly well covered, but I feel like I’m half naked. It makes me squirmy and excited, and the look on his face when he runs his hand over my butt and doesn’t feel any underwear beneath my dress makes it more intense.

  “Careful,” I warn him.

  He becomes the picture of a gentleman as Carrie wobbles into the room, leaning on an old cane that belong to my mom.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready!” she yells.

  She loves Hailey’s house, and with good reason.

  It’s a short trip across town to the new development. We pass a big stone sign that reads Stansfield and drive down two side streets to join the line of cars parked in front of their place.

  Hailey’s massive house is new construction, three stories with a grand foyer, a white vinyl fence, and a huge backyard with a deck, patio, pool, and playground equipment for her kids. She has three: the oldest is twelve and named Damon, and two twins named Melissa and Margaret, both ten.

  Alex looks bewildered, like he’s just stepped off a boat into uncharted land. He sticks close to my back as we walk inside.

  Hailey, my taller, blonder, better looking sister, tilts back and cranes her neck to look up at him, her mouth dropping open.

  “Hi, Hailey,” I say, cheerfully. “This is Alex Wright. He’s with me. I hope you don’t mind if I brought a plus one.”

  It’s hard not to crack a smile as Hailey realizes what’s happening.

  “Oh my God,” she breathes, “You’re…”

  “I’m me, yeah. Can I come in?” Alex asks.

  She steps back and motions him inside. I walk in front of him, helping Carrie along. Hailey frowns when she sees my daughter.

  “I heard what happened,” Hailey says, her voice dripping with the most exquisite sadness.

  “I’m sure you did.”

  “Hey, honey, how are you doing?” she asks Carrie, ignoring me.

  “Fine,” Carrie says, defiantly.

  “Party is out back. Come on,” Hailey says, a nervous hint in her voice.

  Alex offers me his arm and I fold mine through his. Carrie grimly hobbles forward on a cane, refusing to lean on me even as we pass through Hailey’s huge chef’s kitchen of the double ovens and countertop range and stainless steel and blond marble.

  Big French doors open onto the back deck. There’s so many kids here, it looks like it’s a party of one of them rather than my sister. She has a lot of friends, and they all have children.

  “Mom, can I get in the pool?” Carrie says.

  “Go on,” I tell her. “Just be careful on that cement, don’t twist your ankle again.”

  Carrie goes to peel off her clothes to reveal the bathing suit beneath. I place my present, a gift card to Red Lobster, with the pile of gifts on one of the tables on the deck.

  Alex looms behind me the whole time, scanning the backyard like he expects an attack.

  “Are you all right?” I ask him, softly.

  “Fine. Don’t do things like this much.”

  “Me, either. My sister and I aren’t close. Older sister.”

  Grace comes up to us.

  “Wow, you brought an ox with you,” she chirps. “Why, hello there, champ.”

  He looks down at her. “Hi.”

  “Can I ask you something? Are you a grow…”

  “Grace!” I snap.

  “What?” Alex says. “Am I what.”

  “My sister lik
es to run her mouth,” I tell him, though my eyes lock on Grace. “She thinks it’s funny to ask me inappropriate questions about men I date.”

  “Since when do you date any men?”

  “Grace,” I growl.

  Alex laughs.

  It’s loud. When he chuckles it’s like boulders smashing together. It’s enough to get the attention of most everyone at the party. Including my brother-in-law.

  Frank.

  Frank is thirty-seven, balding, skinny but with a pot belly, and he’s a dentist. Of all the professions my eldest sister had to marry into, it had to be dentists. I’ve hated dentists ever since I suffered weeks of agony from a botched wisdom tooth removal when I was nineteen that left me lying delirious on the couch while my mom watched my then eighteen month old daughter.

  Frank is the worst. When he was dating Hailey, he’d creep on me, and at this very moment, he’s trying to get a look at Grace’s ass, or at least he was a second ago. Right now, he’s locked eyes on Alex, mouth wide, his cocktail with little umbrella trembling in his hand.

  Alex looks right back and grins a feral, angry grin.

  I grab his arm.

  “Alex.”

  His voice is very low, so only I can hear. “There’s the piece of shit yelling about keeping the game going after your little girl got hurt.”

  “We need to keep the peace. He’s married to my sister.”

  “I’ll keep the peace,” Alex rumbles.

  Frank breaks into his practiced, fake smile and waves. “Well, look who it is! I should be flattered. The man himself!”

  I walk down the deck steps with Alex onto the patio. The kids are splashing in the pool nearby. I watch Carrie for a moment, making sure she’s okay. In the water, she’s buoyant, bouncing and happy and oblivious to her injury. It’s not as bad as I thought, I suppose.

  “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 cove
red 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.”

 

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