by Xavier Neal
“Unlike now,” I mutter under my breath.
“She's a grown woman,” Brenda stands up for her step daughter.
“I know that.”
“What she does with him is her business.”
“And I respect that,” Kevin quickly insists. “Just like I'm sure Gregory respects that with his own son.”
My father gives me an unhappy glance before he’s agreeing, “I do. All my children.”
“Good,” Brenda sighs grabbing her mimosa. “For now, let's let them be and talk about that cruise to the Cayman's.”
“Agreed,” dad grumbles.
“I like the Caymans,” Greg inserts loudly. “However the trash dumping in that part of the world is atrocious.”
“Like that girlfriend of yours? At least Arik's knows how to shower.”
Not sure I can take any more heat from this situation, I stand up to walk away for some space, which is when my mother gives another head toss Ari's direction.
“Hey,” I whisper to her. “Want a tour of the house?”
“Yes,” she desperately replies, springing to her feet.
Attention falls our direction and my mom swiftly saves us, “Arik's gonna give Ari a tour of the house. Nothing special. Get back to why the Donovans are under the impression we invited them.”
Kevin rolls his eyes and shake his head. “Because they're the most intrusive people to ever walk the planet.”
“And Bill can't golf for shit,” my father chuckles.
The two of us leave the table and make our way into the house, shutting the glass door tightly when we're on the other side.
For the first time since she arrived I let out an exhale. “Fuck...”
“Right,” she agrees instantly. “That was worse than any walk of shame I've ever done.”
There's a tug in my chest from the comment. “It's hard to imagine you ever doing the walk of shame.”
Or maybe I don't want that image. I don't like the idea of anyone fucking my girl but me. Shit. What did I just say? See what sleep deprivation does to a person? Has me talking all sorts of crazy.
“Just a couple times.” She innocently shrugs. “Probably pales in comparison to the number you've done.”
“Offended.” She gives me a sarcastic look. “Fine. I'm not. But you've never asked about my sexual history.”
“I try not to ask questions I don't want the answers too.”
Valid point.
Walking side by side we head out of the living area in silence.
Should I ask her if we're together? Should I ask if I'm the only one she's sleeping with? I just figured I was. I mean, I'm always sleeping with more people than the other person....except maybe in this case. Pretty sure we might be even. We should be even. We need to be even. Fuck, I sound like the biggest pussy in the family now.
“About what my father said,” Ari starts as we round the corner for the stairs in the front of the house. “The thing about being a thing.”
“I remember.”
“We don't have to- I mean if you want- There's not- Whatever you want I'm cool with.”
Uncertain what that is exactly, I slide my hands in my jeans. “What do you want?”
“To keep having sex?”
Lightly I laugh, “Definitely want that too.”
“Dinner outside the apartment was nice,” she continues as we ascend the steps.
“I liked that too.” Ari's smile prompts me to add, “But I do like making you dinner at home.”
Did I say like? Fuck. Fine. I don't like eating dinner alone or cooking for one. Is that a crime?
“I like that too. Oh! And foot rubs. We should keep foot rubs.”
Her laughter sparks my own. “So sex, dinners in and out of the apartment, and foot rubs. Not gonna lie. Kinda sounds like dating.”
“It does, huh?” We take the set of stairs to the right. “So...we're dating?”
Thrown off by the context of this entire conversation I quietly agree, “I guess so.”
“Exclusively?”
Immediately I bite, “Are you fucking other people?”
In an offended tone to match mine, she snaps, “No. Are you?”
“No,” I retort with an attitude.
In tandem the two of us freeze our movement in the hallway. For a moment we simply stare at one another as it sinks in that we've stumbled into being a couple without ever really thinking it through.
Fuck my mother for being right about that.
My tone is low but steady. “You're my girlfriend.”
Ari sways her body to press against me. “I guess I am.”
I lift my eyebrows. “You guess?”
“Well,” she whispers, tugging at the bottom of my shirt. “Not yours until you claim me the other way too.”
With a playful smirk I argue, “Baby, I've claimed you in many positions in many ways.”
Her warm giggle is proceeded with a heated look. “But not since you've actually named me your girlfriend. I think that sort of declaration needs a signature.” One of Ari's hands strokes my member on the outside of my jeans. “Catch my drift?”
Did you just say marry this girl? One step at a fucking time. The girlfriend thing is strange enough.
Grabbing her hand, I pull her at a faster speed down the hall, heading for the room at the end. Once we're inside, kissing her is an instant reaction to being alone. Our tongues roll around while I lead her backwards knowing the exact distance from the door to the bed.
It's my old room. Let's just say I've had practice.
Ari bumps against the edge, which breaks her lips away from mine. “Why do I get the feeling I'm not the first girl you've had in here?”
I lower myself to my knees at the same time she drops onto the edge of the bed. “Let's focus on the fact you're the first girl I've had in here since I moved out.”
With another giggle she flops backwards. “I'll take it.”
Parting her thighs roughly apart, my attention diverts to the set of glistening wet lips waiting for me. My cocks knocks against my zipper to remind me he wants to play. Instead of slipping him out, I slide my tongue across her clit, being given the most delicious flavor. Ari's body instantly bucks off the bed. Suddenly more ravenous than before, my actions turn wild. The twirls of my tongue and hard sucks do their best to sate the voracious demon inside of me that only stirs for her. Ari rolls her hips to continue to feed me while her moans are unfortunately muffled by a pillow she snatched from the head of the bed.
Lost in the haven between her legs, the voice of my name being summoned from the other side of the wall barely seeps in. There's a heavy pound on the locked door, which I refuse to answer until Ari comes. Sensing how close she is, I increase my efforts and the attention on her clit until my favorite phrase is falling relentlessly from her lips. I draw myself back to see my girlfriend paralyzed from pleasure.
With the sound proofer now beside her head she whimpers, “Now...now you've claimed me.”
And I would do it again if my bitchy sister wasn't trying to tear off the door off its hinges. I guess we should get back downstairs. No telling how long we've been gone. That's one of the tricky things about being with Ari. She makes me forget about the rest of the world. She also makes me want to think about things longer than the end of the day. Is that normal with a girlfriend? Shit. What have I gotten myself into?
Ari
“You so owe me for this,” I whisper in Arik's ear as I wind my arm around his. “I'm going to be smelling seafood and sadness for weeks.”
He chuckles and slips his free hand into his pocket. “I'll find a way to make it up to you.”
The temptation in his tone has me tensing my body.
Can't jump his bones on a yacht full of the puppet masters of wealth. Do you blame me for considering it? You've seen him naked.
In my ear he softly declares, “I promise to double your nightly orgasms as thanks.”
Just the thought has me stifling the urge to moan again.
/>
Apparently I'm addicted to dick. Or maybe just his dick? All I know is whenever the subject of him is brought up or we're in the same general vicinity the only thing my brain does is slide into maximum overdrive on ways to get us naked or count how long until we are naked. It's Liz's kinda math and that makes me feel wrong in completely new ways.
Arik leads us around the stuffy white attire event, politely making conversation when required. Each time we stop, he introduces me as his girlfriend with such pride and ease I forget the pressure that comes with the title.
I keep expecting the tap dance of 'where are we going' and 'where do we wanna go' to be done any minute now. That topic choice makes me very uncomfortable. Hell thinking too deeply about all of this makes me uncomfortable, but then Arik smiles and the tension seems to disappear. He makes me laugh and the fear of what tomorrow means for the two of us doesn't exist. Never knew relationships could be this....easy? That means we're about to run into something terrible. I just know it. Nothing is ever this simple.
After being left by the couple who see a plate of appetizers they can't resist, Arik asks, “So, your father. He doesn't attend events like this?”
“Rarely anymore.” I grab a champagne glass being offered to me. “In fact other than brunch with your family-”
“Which was still awkward.”
“He's not big into hanging out with other people in the same tax bracket.”
“Huh,” Arik sounds surprised. “That's not what I would expect.”
“Just like you didn't expect him to have a half black daughter?” The joke clearly makes him uncomfortable, which makes me snicker.
So sue me. I have to find humor when I can.
“Yeah, about that,” he starts after sending the waiter away without taking anything to drink.
Man loves his body too much sometimes. Often says how he'd rather eat those calories if he's gotta have them. At least Arik doesn't give me the empty calorie speeches. Liz would have me dump him immediately. The woman may love to 86 anything that's not organic or made by tree elves in the heart of the jungle, but liquor is the exception. Don't mess with her about that.
“How....what....explain.”
Giggling, I have a sip of my champagne. “You mean how do I have two white parents when I am clearly not white?”
He moves his head from side to side. “Yeah, but with less racial discomfort.”
I playfully roll my eyes.
“Brenda's your step mother, right? You said that.”
“You listened.”
“Occasionally I do hear things other than my name or a desperation for more being called out.”
I give him a light punch to the chest. “Shut up.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “You need to hit the gym. You punch like my brother.”
“Shouldn't that mean he needs to hit the gym?”
“No, people expect his punches to be of a pussy variety.” Another laugh leaves me and he says, “But seriously. Did your parents divorce when you were younger? Older? Are you close with your mother? Are you an only child?”
The sudden interest in more than what's between my legs lately revives the uneasiness of being in a relationship.
Not a huge fan of sharing my personal background. It's been fun learning how much Arik loves the boat life yet finds fishing boring, how he didn't learn to ride a bike until he was eight, and the simple fact part of him still thinks that lobsters are the devil's water henchman. I've loved the moments of us lying in his bed or mine talking about the things we adore in life like cheeseburgers, classic rock, and words that sound dirty yet aren't. He's always been an open book and respected the fact I rarely turn the page. See! I told you the easy times would come to an end and this bullshit would have to start. Why did I agree to be officially a pair? Was I high when I agreed that we were a couple? Shut up! I wasn't dick high. You stop hanging out with Liz.
“My parents split when I was six,” I start hoping that will be enough. When Arik's eyes pin me from moving elsewhere, I force myself to continue. “They were never actually married. They fought so much when I was younger that part of me was relieved when my dad moved out. He met and married Brenda about a year later.”
“Ouch...that had to hurt for your mom.”
“It did.” After a short pause I add, “It's what led her to a liquor filled grave.”
Horror pops on his face.
Oh look. Yours too.
“Wh-wh-what?”
“She drank herself to death.”
“In front of you?”
“I found her,” my confession isn't one anyone outside of my father knows.
Until now. What is wrong with me? Why can't I stop talking? How does he do that? How does he make it okay to just say whatever I want?
Arik struggles to say something but seems incapable.
“My father and Brenda had just come back from their honeymoon the day before. I remember my mother crying profusely, sending me to my room to play or to watch a movie, anything to keep me away from her. She couldn't stand staring at me. Said I reminded her too much of him.”
“No offense, but brown eyes aside, I'd have to object.”
With a shrug I say, “You're right. His eyes are the only physical attribute I got from him. If you were to see photos of her, you would swear you were looking at me.”
“I'm sure I'd see the similarities, but you're one of a kind baby.”
Trying not to smile I say, “Anyway...that night, I was hungry. I had been munching all day on things I could reach in the pantry, but was ready for real food, so I went to ask for dinner. That's when I found her. She was tucked into her bed. She simply looked asleep. Peaceful. I didn't wanna wake her up because I couldn't ever remember a time when I hadn't seen stress wrinkles on her face.”
His eyes soften yet he remains silent.
“But I just turned seven and was starving, so I tried to shake her awake. I tried to get her out of bed. When I realized I couldn't, I called my father and he came straight over. The moment he walked through the door he knew. He let me hold her hand while he explained that she had decided to move on to another place. I held her hand until the paramedics came.”
“That's seriously fucked up,” Arik mutters quietly. “No kid should have to do that.”
I hum my agreement and have another sip of my champagne.
No child should ever have to learn about death for the first time with their parent as the subject.
“So you went to live with your dad and Brenda?”
“Right.”
“But no siblings?”
“Dad didn't wanna drag a kid through custody battles ever again. From the time I was four until she died at six they were on and off again. There were times when he walked out the front door and I wouldn't see him for weeks.”
“He didn't wanna see you?”
“According to my mother he was out trying to make a new family. Then just as we got into a routine of me seeing him more regularly, they would get back together, and then the fighting would start again. It was like a sick, pathetic cycle they sank into. I lived in constant fear I would never see my father again. Not that my mother helped that fear by reminding me if he really loved me he would be the one to tuck me in at night.”
She wasn't one to bottle up how she felt.
“After seeing first-hand what a pair of split parents could emotionally do to a child he vowed he wouldn't make that mistake twice.”
Arik rubs his chin uncomfortably. “Were you a problem child?”
“I don't think so,” I whisper out. “I remember being more sensitive seeing other people's father's come pick them up from day care, but other than that...”
No need to tell him how I balled so hard while making father's day projects in elementary school, I was sent home sick.
“So, his view on kids fit perfectly with Brenda. She didn't want any of her own and having a step daughter stopped that biological clock from ticking annoyingly loud.” He tries t
o smile. “It's fine. Really. Brenda is wonderful. She's been great. She's done all the mom things possible from school dances to tampons. She's never once tried to replace my mother. She always made sure to introduce herself as my step mother. To ask me how I felt when 'motherly' things arrived. After my mom died she even found this adorable black and pink zebra frame and put a picture of me with my mom in it to sit on my bedside table.”