Wednesday

by James, Clare

  Tris takes a step closer, shielding me. In my mind, I know that anyone could see us out here. I just can’t get my body to give a damn.

  One slide of the finger deep inside has me spreading my legs and pulling up to the balls of my feet.

  One turn of the wrist and I gasp.

  Another finger. Another turn.

  A pull low in my belly.

  There is panting and thrusting until… stars flash behind my eyelids.

  And I know without a doubt. I am his.

  TRISTAN

  I am in complete control of Aria. In this moment. In this place. But who am I kidding? It’s Aria who owns me.

  As I make her come apart in my hand, I use my other to continue its exploration of her body – snaking under the shirt that was driving me insane in the diner. Inching up to the lacy bra that holds her amazing tits, I graze a thumb over her nipple. I see them in my mind, a memory from graduation night, an image I could never forget. Full and heavy with deep rosy nipples that were so responsive.

  They still are. So I pluck one and then the other, driving a helpless moan from her with each electric contact. I want to get them in my mouth, I want to taste, but I can’t expose her any more than she already is. It will have to wait.

  I add another finger down below and move deeper and faster until I garner a stinging bite to my neck.

  Damn, what I wouldn’t do for a bed so I could take my time, but we’re running out of that too quickly. Aria’s nerves won’t last much longer. It’s time to push her over the edge.

  I push my thumb on her clit and continue to stroke her. Hard and fast.

  Her heart beats swift and strong under the breast I knead, probably more fiercely than I should. She doesn’t seem to mind.

  My hands move faster.

  Faster.

  Until she clenches around my fingers, holding them there. Quickly, I move my other hand from her breast to her mouth to stifle the cry I know is coming. She bites into my palm and I can feel her silent scream.

  The throbbing stops and I hold her until she floats back down to Earth. Now this is something I really don’t want to do – the holding. We don’t need any more emotions tied up in this, but I have the strange feeling it’s been a long time since she’s had release, so I let it go, cradling her until she calms.

  She looks up at me and those dreamy eyes harden. Her face tightens and her chin tips up and out.

  The mask is on and the new Aria Prince is back.

  “Now that was something.” I try to lighten the mood.

  “You are truly depraved,” she tells me, straightening herself.

  “Baby, you have no idea.”

  She laughs then, a deep belly chuckle that absolutely charms me. She’s still blissed out. Now is my chance.

  “God, I can’t believe we did that.” She shakes her head in awe, almost as if she’s proud of her walk on the wild side.

  “Here’s the thing.” I run the back of my hand along her jaw. “I want to do it again.”

  She slaps my arm. “You’re crazy. No effing way. We are so lucky someone didn’t come out here.”

  “I don’t mean here.”

  “Where then?” she asks, curious.

  I’ve got her wheels turning.

  “The beach house.” My eyes don’t stray from hers. “Wednesdays.”

  A strange silence and uneasiness consumes the space between us. The heat has fizzled and the raging emotions have slid back under the surface.

  “Let me get this straight. You want me to be your fuck toy every Wednesday at the beach shack.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t put it that way. I’d call it an arrangement between two consenting adults. And it’s a quaint cottage, by the way.”

  She ignores my joke.

  “Is that how they do it in L.A.?” she asks. All her spunk has returned, furthering my resolve. I can give her what she needs.

  “Think about it, Aria. We know each other. It’s safe. And we both have Wednesdays free. Could you imagine what it’d be like to get your rocks off like that every week?”

  “Who says I’m not?” she asks.

  “Come on, I think it’s pretty apparent it’s been awhile. And don’t even think about lying to me, I know you enjoyed every damn second of that.”

  “Sure, but that’s because it wasn’t planned.”

  She doesn’t say another word for what feels like hours, and begins to pace. Pacing is a good sign, she’s definitely thinking it over.

  “Well, Aria,” I ask, unable to wait another second. “What do you think? Forget it all and become mine for one day?”

  Suddenly, I want this. I want it bad.

  She leans into me, and in a surprising move, she brushes her lips over mine. I have to hold myself back, because I want to devour her.

  “Is that a yes?” I ask, but she’s already walking away.

  “I’ll think about it,” she calls back to me.

  “Okay, I’ll take that as a yes, then,” I say, mustering up every ounce of confidence I can.

  I’m so screwed.

  ***

  After the shenanigans with Aria in the alley – something I still can’t believe we did – I’m in agony. Physically. Mentally. What the hell am I doing to myself? A hook-up with someone like Lissa would be so much easier.

  It’s like I never left this shitty town. Back to sleepless nights over a girl who may, or may not, be interested in me.

  Last night, I really could’ve used the sleep. Especially considering I start teaching a new class today. What do they say about those who can, do, and those who can’t, teach? Yeah, that’s where I’m at in this point in my life.

  Funny thing is, I’ve never been the academic type. Universities are more of a place to tidy your mind, rather than free it. It involves so much talking about theory and plans and case studies rather than going out there and actually doing something.

  My college career didn’t last long by any means, and now I’m supposed to be promoting the classroom experience.

  “Have fun today, Professor.” Danny calls to wish me luck, which is so not a guy thing to do. My unconventional ways must be rubbing off on him.

  “Ugh,” is the only response I have.

  “I know you don’t want to admit it, but teaching is in your blood. Look at what you’ve done with me.”

  “It just feels like I’m admitting defeat or something,” I say.

  “I thought this was just temporary.”

  “It is.”

  “Then stop whining like a little bitch and go to work,” he says.

  And back to Guy Speak 101.

  “Oh, and now that we’re all about full disclosure and shit,” he says before releasing a long breath.

  “Yeah?” I say, not sure I want to hear it.

  Full disclosure was definitely a new concept.

  “Aria will be on campus today,” he says.

  I rub my neck, just the thing I need to hear when I’m already off to a shitty day.

  “She’s taking classes?”

  “Going into nursing, apparently.”

  “Nursing? She can’t stand the thought of blood.”

  “Well, unlike you, maybe she knows when it’s time to pull out the big girl panties and do what needs to be done,” he says.

  “Fuck you.”

  “Have a nice day, dear.”

  And with that, I head to the university with images of Aria in glasses and a collegiate sweater. So what if students haven’t dressed like that since the 50s? A guy can dream.

  Damn, and I thought I was in trouble before.

  ARIA

  I’m reeling all night after my – well, let’s call it what it is – spectacular orgasm with Tris. And, even worse, I’m considering his offer. Part of me craves the excitement, the naughtiness of it all, but the other part of me is thinking about Jimmy’s words.

  Never reach for a falling knife.

  And man, this was one dangerous proposition.

  I want Tristan, but I
also fear him – like an addiction.

  Whenever he enters a room, everything else falls away. Yet we detest each other.

  We also crave each other, desperately. And I’m worried that my need for him will make me risk everything for a touch, a feeling, a moment of pleasure.

  And now I sit here wavering. My body screams to go to him; my mind tells me it could be the mistake that breaks me.

  “Buddy, you need to eat breakfast,” I tell Cade, who happens to be in the middle of a tantrum this fine morning as I’m thinking about mind-blowing orgasms instead of preparing for my first day of school.

  “No,” He turns his little lip out and pushes the bowl away. “I hate Cheerios.”

  What in the H is going on? Cade hasn’t had a meltdown since he was two. Please don’t pick today to regress. Please, pal.

  I push the bowl toward him again, strangely reminiscent of the situation with Lissa at the diner.

  But when he pushes the bowl back this time, it goes crashing to the floor. I try to snag it in mid-air, but stub my toe on the table leg. Then I slide into the table, soaking my shirt in the milk puddle that’s now dripping onto the floor. A few drops hang from Cade’s nose from the splatter. He giggles and draws a happy face in the milk.

  So I guess the saying should be never reach for a falling knife or falling bowl. Good to know.

  One more smiley face in the spilled milk and I lose it.

  “Cade,” I yell and he freezes. I don’t think I’ve ever raised my voice around him before. “Look at the mess you’ve made. I have a big day and you’re making it so hard on me.”

  I throw my own little tantrum then, slamming drawers and stomping around as I clean the mess. And when I move onto Cade, his eyes go wide as saucers and his bottom lip trembles.

  “Sorry, mama,” he says. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “Why won’t you just eat your breakfast?” I ask, pleading.

  “It hurts my neck,” he says.

  “What?”

  He rubs his throat and now it’s me whimpering. I’m yelling at the kid and he probably has strep throat or something. God, I’m a terrible mother.

  I pick him up and we snuggle on the couch to watch a cartoon together, both still wet from the spilled milk.

  That’s where Serena finds us.

  “Why aren’t you two ready to go?” she asks. “It’s getting late.”

  I fill her in on the story while she cleans up Cade and I try to straighten up.

  “He’ll be fine, A,” Serena says. “If his throat is still bothering him at lunchtime, we’ll head over to the minute clinic.”

  “Maybe I should stay home.” I feel panic coming on.

  “You can’t do that. It’s your first day.”

  “Tell that to my brain,” I say, packing up the rest of Cade’s bag. “Because all I want to do is take care of my boy.”

  ***

  Once I leave the house, the day doesn’t get any better. On campus, an asshole with a lacrosse stick takes my parking spot.

  “I had my blinker on,” I scream out my window.

  “Didn’t see it.” He winks. Winks! “Sorry, babe.”

  It’s the last close spot near my first class because everyone drives here. It’s a big commuter school. So I drive around forever and end up in the Siberia lot by the lacrosse fields of all places.

  The universe is clearly fucking with me today.

  So I end up ten minutes late for my first class, wearing my only clean jeans which are old, faded, and full of finger-paints. Washable paint, my ass. My hair is hanging in clumps by my face, sticky from the Cheerio milk I was bathed in this morning, and I forgot to brush my teeth.

  But worst of all, my heart still aches from the way I treated Cade. Maybe I should just stick to being a waitress and forget school. What if I’m one of those people who can’t handle stress? What if I can’t do it?

  I don’t have much time to ponder those questions because my mind is busy. Too busy for the internal dialogue that usually rules my day, and that is a welcome change.

  After recovering from the embarrassment of arriving late, I actually enjoy anatomy. While I was pregnant in Iowa, I was able to fit in one semester of generals before Cade arrived. I was one of the last students to register there, but managed to pick up two general science courses. It couldn’t have been more perfect for the nursing program, because biology and chemistry are prerequisites for some of the courses. I’m amazed that I finally did something right.

  After the class housekeeping is taken care of, we begin with cells. Okay, I can do this. Cells are fine; cells I can handle. Maybe I can slowly work up to the blood and guts.

  During class, nobody stares at my jeans or sticky hair. Most everyone keeps to themselves. Whether they’re listening to the lecture or staring into space, I can’t quite tell, but it’s a comfort. And before I expect it, people are filing out. Class dismissed.

  There’s an hour break before Intro to Nursing. Then it’s off to the diner for the lunch rush. In my spare time, I’ll work on my online psych class.

  I’d rather have started off the summer session at a slower pace, but to get my financial aid, I needed nine credits. I’m more than a little worried; I’ve never been the best student.

  Sitting in the commons, I can’t help the edginess I feel. The curse of the idle mind. I keep looking for Cade, like I should be watching him. All morning, I’ve had that sensation that I’m forgetting something.

  I flinch when my phone rings. Once I see who it is, I fumble to answer it on the first ring.

  “He’s fine,” Serena says instead of hello. “The quick test came back negative and the nurse was pretty sure the other one will too.”

  “I’m so glad you got him in so early,” I tell her, feeling like I can breathe again. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Can I talk to him?”

  “He’s in a very important race with the twins right now; do you want me to get him?”

  “No.” Relief washes over me. “Let him run. He must be feeling okay then.”

  “Totally,” she says. “What about you? How’s the first day of school?”

  “I like it,” I tell her. “I really do.”

  “I’m glad. You can tell me about it tonight, I just wanted to let you know the kiddo is fine.”

  “You made my day,” I tell her before hanging up.

  We get off the phone and I get a jump start on my anatomy text. For once, I’m ahead of the game and it’s so satisfying.

  These last few days of signing up for classes, picking up books, and working at the diner have been the longest I’ve been away from my Cade in his life. It feels strange but also, I hate to admit, it’s been very freeing. Like my life is becoming more balanced or something. I forgot what it was like to be anything other than a mother. And the best part? Coming home to my little boy in the evening. He has so much to tell me about his day, his adventures with the bang-up brothers and Serena.

  And then there’s Wild Wednesdays. My stomach flips thinking back to last week. Something else I never expected to be experiencing again. All these parts of me that I thought were gone… turns out, they were just dormant.

  Speaking of, those sleepy parts are waking up once again.

  I actually sense Tristan before I see him. What the hell? This is like four times in a week. Can’t be a coincidence.

  “Are you following me?” I ask his shoes, unable to look up at his face.

  “Don’t flatter yourself.” He bends down, coming into my line of sight. He has gray sneakers with jeans and a blazer – a cross between a professor and a hipster. His hair is a mess and his scruff has me thinking about all the places I’d like to feel it on my skin.

  “I’m using the library,” he says. “And I’m also on some official business. Have you had a chance to think over my offer?”

  “What offer?” Oh yeah, this is how I’m going to play it.

  He wiggles his brow.

  “You weren’t really serious, were you?”

/>   “Dead fucking serious,” he says, and my body buzzes.

  “Tris.” His name comes out more gravelly than I intend.

  “Don’t look at me like that. This is purely a proposal out of necessity. I can’t fathom going out with one of the tennis girls and my choices are limited. I don’t need a clingy woman right now.”

  “Aren’t we full of ourselves?”

  “Just being honest. And by the way you reacted in the alley way, I think you could use this too. Plus, I’ve heard nursing students need volunteer patients. You could always practice on me.”

  “How did you know I’m in nursing?” I ask, clearly paranoid.

  “I’m not a creeper, Ari. Just observant.” He gestures to my Intro to Nursing text and I feel a little foolish.

  “Why are you so adamant about this?” I ask, surely he could have anyone in this town.

  “I want you, Aria.”

  Want me?

  As if answering my silent question, he continues, “Yes. I want you spread across my bed, or up against the wall, or bent over my kitchen table. I’m not picky about where, and we already know when. So let’s make a deal, Aria.”

  Every last bit of air leaves my body on an exhale. His words hang out there, forcing me to acknowledge them. Forcing me to make sense of this asinine proposition. And I want to acknowledge it. I want to answer, hells yes.

  “Jesus, Tris.” It’s all I can say.

  “Don’t overthink it. Sometimes the body just wants what it wants,” he says, glancing down at his phone.

  And then he’s gone.

  TRISTAN

  That afternoon, I’m walking down the street wondering what Aria’s thinking about my offer. She doesn’t know about my proclivities in bed yet. If she did, she probably would’ve run without even considering it.

  It’s not that I have a weird kink or that I’m into dungeon scenes or anything. I just happen to like things to go down in a certain way.

  My way.

  I’ve come to discover many women are keen to my M.O. in the bedroom. More than keen. They just need to be introduced to it in the right way.