Hot Georgia Rein

by Martha Sweeney

  I rush toward her, pulling Ivy into my body. My mouth takes hers as my hands grab her ass, hiking her up off the ground. My legs stride quickly to the bed, desperate to see for myself that she isn’t wearing panties. Our bodies collide against the mattress and my fingers frantically work to get under the edge of her dress. I let out a groan the second I find her bare lips and not a single barrier between us.

  “Fuck, Firefly,” I moan into her mouth, driving my tongue inward.

  Ivy lets out a whimper when my fingers push to open her lips, sliding into her wetness easily.

  “You’re so wet,” I say with eager anticipation.

  Ivy nods as she kisses me back. I shift down her, needing to taste her sweetness. As my tongue lashes against her nub, Ivy riles with pleasure. My fingers slide into her more, teasing her just to the brink of release. She groans irritation when I deny her an orgasm. Sucking on her clit more, my fingers pulse inside her. Ivy’s body wiggles, desperate for a climax. I keep my fingers inside her as my mouth trails up her body. My tongue plays with the skin of her breasts that bulges out from behind the taut fabric.

  When my mouth moves up her neck, I say, “The next time you aren’t wearing any panties, you better tell me right away.”

  Ivy’s only response is a moan as my fingers flick inside her.

  I get her close, stopping just before she peaks. With my free hand, I hold her head so she’s looking me in the eye. “I mean it, Firefly,” I command.

  She nods and whimpers.

  “I want you to agree that you’ll tell me,” I instruct. “If you don’t…I won’t let you come.”

  Ivy groans with irritation.

  “Tell me,” I instruct, getting her close again.

  “I swear,” she moans. “I swear.”

  “Good,” I reply, taking her mouth. My fingers resume their mission. Right as Ivy’s about to come, I ask, “Did you not wear them on purpose?”

  “Yes,” Ivy huffs.

  “Did you not wear them because you wanted me to please you?” I inspect.

  “Yes,” she moans.

  “Did you want me to let you come?” I ask playfully.

  “Yes,” she grunts.

  “Do it,” I command, hitting the spot that I know will make her orgasm arrive. “Come for me, Firefly.”

  Ivy let’s our her squeal as I watch the release flood her body. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, even more beautiful when she orgasming, letting her walls down and letting me in.

  Before she’s able to catch her breath, I flip her over and flip up her dress. I yank my shirt off and press my body down onto hers. Ivy grinds her ass into my groin as my hand finds her clit. I trail kisses along her neck and shoulders.

  “Fuck me,” she begs, arching her back.

  “You want me to fuck you like this?” I check, loving how she’s willing to tell me what she wants.

  “Yes,” she confirms. “Fuck me.”

  I shove my pants down and lift her hips up, stealing another taste. Ivy groans as her hands clench into the sheets. When I hear her disappointed whimpers, I spread her legs wide and ready myself at her entrance.

  “You sure you’re ready?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she claims.

  I push just my head in and nip her ear. “You sure?” I tease.

  “Yes,” she confirms.

  I thrust, plunging myself deep inside her. Ivy lets out a squeak as I release out a guttural groan.

  “Fuck, Firefly,” I huff. “You feel so fucking good. You’re so tight wrapped around my cock.”

  It doesn’t take long for our rhythm to become one. Ivy’s quick to come, most likely built up from all of the teasing I’ve done. Tugging her hips up higher, I feel even deeper inside her. Ivy rocks back into me, matching my stride. She’s quick to orgasm again and I’m not long to follow.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” I say, brushing damp strands of hair off her face.

  Ivy smiles. “You’re kinda cute too.”

  “Kind of?” I snap playfully.

  Ivy giggles.

  “I love you,” I hum into her ear.

  Ivy’s body goes a little rigid.

  “I don’t expect you to say it,” I inform. “I just want you to know. I love you and I will do anything that needs to be done so we’re together.”

  Ivy’s smile widens, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. I’m sure she nervous, unsure if we’ll fuck this up again or really be happy.

  One of the phones ring, and I pull her into me.

  “I need to check that,” Ivy states.

  “Don’t,” I request.

  “I won’t answer,” Ivy says. “I just need to know who it is.”

  I reluctantly let her go.

  Ivy gets up and I admire the view of her naked body.

  “It’s just Cece,” she says. “I’ll call her back later.”

  “Good,” I say, rolling onto my back. “Come back to bed. I’m not done with you yet.”

  “No?” Ivy laughs.

  “We haven’t had dessert,” I remind.

  “That wasn’t dessert?” she checks.

  “Nope,” I confirm.

  Her phone makes another sound and then another right after it. Ivy’s face falls.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” she replies. Ivy punches something in and then places the phone between her shoulder and ear as she starts to slip her legs through the dress.

  “Ivy?” I question, not liking her expression or the fact that she’s not intending on joining me back in bed.

  “Cece,” Ivy’s voice greets with concern laced in her words. “What’s happened?”

  I listen, hoping to catch the gist of the conversation.

  “What?” Ivy replies, sounding more shocked.

  “What?” I ask softly, but Ivy ignores me.

  “When did it happen?” she pries. Ivy waits for an answer. “Okay. I’m on my way.”

  “What happened?” I check, wrapping the sheet around me.

  “No,” Ivy says, putting her boots on. “I’m coming back. I’ll be right there.”

  “What’s happened?” I repeat as Ivy hangs up the phone.

  “Cece’s going to the hospital,” Ivy states.

  “Is she okay? What happened?” I inquire.

  “ I don’t know,” Ivy informs. “She got cut off before telling me.”

  “I’m sure her father can be there for her. Stay and go back up in the morning,” I suggest.

  “Her dad’s out of the country for business,” Ivy informs.

  “Her mom,” I offer.

  “Her mom’s not with her anymore,” Ivy states.

  “I’ll come with you,” I say, looking for my keys.

  “No!” Ivy shouts.

  “Why not?” I check.

  “Cece’s funny about people she doesn’t know knowing certain things,” Ivy states oddly. “I’ll go up tonight and I’ll be back in a few days.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I say. “I’ll just come. If anything, you need me.”

  “Please, Henry,” Ivy begs. “I promise I’ll be back after I know she’s okay. Cece’s like a sister to me. I have to go. Please, understand.”

  25 Ivy

  “Momma!” I shout frantically, rushing into the house. “Momma!”

  “Ivy, Sweetpea, what’s the matter?” Momma returns from the living room.

  “You okay, Ivy?” Papa calls from the upstairs.

  “I need you to take me to the airport,” I say. “I need to get back to New York.”

  “Did something happen between you and Henry?” Momma checks, following me upstairs.

  “What’s going on?” Papa inquires.

  “Cece called,” I inform, rushing into my room. “She’s at the hospital.”

  “Is she okay?” Momma asks, helping me pack.

  “She’s fine,” I return.

  “Then, why is she at the hospital?” Papa searches.

  My body freezes and my gaze f
inds them. “He’s sick,” I blurt as the tears start to pour down my face. “She said he’s got a really bad fever. He’s crying and keeps asking for me.”

  “Okay,” Momma sighs, zipping my bag up. “This will do you just fine. You’ve got plenty of clothes up there. We can mail up the rest or you can get them when you come back.”

  I nod.

  “I’ll take her,” Papa offers.

  “We’ll go together, John,” Momma states.

  Papa grabs my bag while Momma keeps her arms around me, comforting me as we exit the house.

  “What’s going on?” Grady asks, pulling into the driveway.

  “Ivy’s got to go back home,” Momma informs. “There’s been an emergency.”

  “Everything okay?” Grady inspects. “What happened?”

  “He’s in the hospital,” I inform. “Cece didn’t know what to do.”

  “She did the right thing,” Momma says. “He’ll be fine.”

  “I can take her,” Grady offers.

  “We got her, thank you,” Papa returns. “Just be here for Nana and Pops until we get back.”

  “Okay,” Grady confirms, helping me into Papa’s truck.

  Papa puts on the radio as he drives. I’m between him and Momma on the seat, willing the truck to already be at the airport. My body calms a little from the rocking and Momma’s comfort.

  “He’ll be fine,” Momma soothes.

  “He’s never been sick,” I state.

  “It’ll be okay,” Momma encourages.

  “But, he has a fever,” I remind.

  “There were many times when you or your brother had a fever that I thought it wasn’t good,” Momma informs. “It’ll be okay. He’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  “I hope so,” I reply dejectedly. “The last thing I need is to deal with another funeral and having to explain myself on top of it.”

  “Hush, Sweetpea,” Papa says, patting my leg. “There’s no need for talk like that.”

  “Why don’t we look up the next flight to New York,” Momma suggests. “That way you’ll have less time dealing with the lines.”

  I nod and take out my phone. My heart breaks and I start to sob when I see the picture of my son on it. He’s never been sick. He’s had the sniffles, but nothing that would warrant him going to the hospital. I should have gotten more information from Cece. Now, I’ll have to wait until I get there.

  Momma’s idea to get a ticket before getting to the airport works perfectly. I’m able to get one of the last business class seats on the next flight which departs about twenty minutes after I arrive at the airport. I pay extra to bypass the standard TSA checkpoint, but I still have to sprint through the terminals to make it before they close the doors.

  My heart continues to pound as I try to relax in my seat.

  “Miss,” the stewardess calls, pulling me from my frantic thoughts. “Would you like a drink once we’re in the air?”

  “What’s the hardest stuff you have?” I check.

  “I’ve got a few small bottles of whiskey,” she states.

  “I’ll take them,” I say, handing her my credit card.

  “Everything okay?” she asks sweetly.

  “I hope so,” I reply.

  “I’ll go see if I might have something extra to help calm your nerves in the meantime,” she says and then walks away.

  “Thank you,” I reply graciously.

  She walks away and my eyes stay focused on the window, waiting for the pilot to announce that we’re leaving.

  “Here,” the stewardess offers softly. “You didn’t get this from me.” She winks. “I’ll bring you the rest once we’re up in the air.”

  “Thank you,” I reply, taking my card back and the small bottle she’s discretely handing me. “Thank you so much.”

  “He okay?” she asks gently, nodding her chin to my phone.

  “I hope so,” I return.

  “I’m sure it’s all good,” she bids, placing her hand on my shoulder. “They’re more resilient than us sometimes.”

  “Yeah,” I sigh. “Thanks.”

  The just over two-hour flight is painstakingly slow. I’m unable to sleep even with the help of the two glasses of whiskey I’ve had. I try to busy myself with different things, but none of them work. I finally decide to stare at a movie which seems to be distracting enough a few times.

  The second I’m allowed to get off the plane, I’m running through JKF in search of a taxi. My leg impatiently bounces as I sit in the back seat as the regular New York traffic seems to be moving slower than usual. I check my phone again, hoping that Cece has cell signal and knows that I’m on my way.

  To be safe, I text Drew, hoping that he’s heard from Cece. Instead of returning the text, my phone buzzes with him on the line.

  “Hey,” I greet. “Where’s Cece?”

  “I don’t know,” Drew replies. “Why?”

  “Fuck,” I huff. “I’m back. She called me a few hours ago and told me she was going to the hospital.”

  “Oh, my God. Is she okay?” Drew searches

  “She’s fine,” I return. “But, my baby might not be.”

  “Hold on,” Drew states. “I’ve got a few friends at the hospital. I’ll text and find out if they’re still there. Where are you now?”

  “Just leaving JFK,” I inform. “The traffic is crazy and I don’t know why.”

  “There are few concerts going on. Everything’s backed up,” Drew explains.

  It takes a few minutes, but Drew gets back to me that they’re no longer at the hospital. They wouldn’t tell him anything, but if my son has been released, at least I know that it wasn’t as severe as I initially thought.

  “I’m on my way to your place,” Drew states.

  “You don’t have to,” I reply.

  “I know,” Drew returns. “But, I’m going anyway. I’m sure they’re there and I’ll text to confirm.”

  “Great. Thanks,” I say.

  Twenty minutes later, Drew confirms that Cece is at my apartment and that her phone got lost. Thirty minutes into being trapped in traffic, I opt to take the train the rest of the way home.

  “Hello,” I greet, unlocking my door. “Cece? Drew?”

  Drew comes running to the door. “Hey, doll-face.”

  “Hi,” I reply, hugging him. I drop my purse, keys, and bags by the front door.

  “They’re in his room,” Drew informs. “Cece’s gotten him to sleep, but she couldn’t get any prescriptions filled.”

  “What is it?” I inquire as we round the corner to his bedroom.

  “Ear infection,” Cece whispers. “We went swimming. I didn’t know they could have a fever with it.”

  “Grady used to get them,” I say, sitting on the edge of my son’s bed. “It’s painful, but he’ll be fine. Drew, grab me the heating pad in the hallway closet. Cece, get the hydrogen peroxide bottle that’s in my medicine cabinet.”

  They jump up and rush out of the bedroom.

  “It’s okay, sweetie,” I soothe, holding my son closer. “Mama’s here.”

  “Mama,” he whimpers.

  “That’s right,” I confirm. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

  Luckily, he’s so tired that he doesn’t put up a fight or fidget once I get the drops into his ear. He remains still on his side while on my chest, allowing the hydrogen peroxide to help. Then after five minutes, Cece helps to get the heating pad and a towel on my chest while Drew holds him. Once situated, Drew lowers my son and we use a low heat to help with the pain in his ear while he sleeps.

  “Need anything?” Drew checks.

  “No,” I reply. “We’re good. I’ll stay with him tonight. Thank you.”

  “I’ll stay,” Cece states.

  “You don’t need to,” I comment.

  “We’ll both stay,” Drew offers.

  “Alright. You guys can take my bed since I’ll be here with him,” I direct.

  “Text if you need anything,” Drew states.

  I sm
ile and nod.

  In the middle of the night, my son’s tiny bed no longer feels comfortable. I’m not sure what time it is, but I carry him out to the living room, planting us on the couch. I make sure to grab my cell phone and text my parents what’s happened and that everyone is okay. Then, I give him another treatment as he sleeps, hoping to help speed up the process.

  “Mama,” he groans in his sleep.

  “Mama’s here,” I confirm, holding him closer. “You’ll feel better in the morning, baby.”

  “Dada,” he mumbles.

  26 Henry

  The second Ivy runs out of the barn, I’m chasing after her with nothing but a sheet wrapped around my waist. “Let me come with you,” I offer. “Just give me a second to get dressed.”

  “No,” Ivy objects. “I need to go. I’ll be back. I promise.” She gets into her Momma’s truck.

  “Ivy, please,” I beg.

  “I’ll be back once I know everything’s fine,” she claims as she pulls away.

  “Let me…” I stop, realizing that she can’t hear me. “Mother fucker.” I stand in the dark watching the truck disappear as I try to figure out what to do.

  Old feelings wash over me, causing me to think that I’m losing her all over again. I need to do something. I can’t just stay here waiting for her to call and tell me if she’s coming back or not. I know she doesn’t want me to go with her, but it doesn’t feel right to stay.

  I head back into the barn and throw on my clothes, pacing as I debate with myself. Before my boots are on, I’m committed to going after Ivy, to be there for her. I rush to clean up the dishes, taking them inside the house.

  I speed through the streets, desperate to catch up with her before she leaves. Just two miles away from her parents’ house, that’s when the lights go off in my rear view mirror.

  “Goddamnit,” I grunt, pulling to the side of the road.

  It takes forever for Bobby Womack to approach my truck. I know it’s him on duty because usually he’s the one on the night shift and by the silhouette in the rear view mirror. There are only five cops in our town and they’re easily—even at night.

  “What the fuck, Bobby,” I huff when he’s two feet from my window.

  “You was speeding,” Bobby claims.

  “Everyone speeds through here,” I remind.