Too Close: Plantain Series Novella

by Amelia Oliver

  “Promise me you mean this,” she says, looking into my eyes.

  There’s something there, something desperate and hopeful. A wounded girl looking for a family. If she only knew I’m praying she’s the one who means this.

  “I promise,” I vow, crossing over my heart with my index finger.

  The ceremony is fast and I slide the straw ring onto her little ring finger, not ignoring the beaming smile she has, and its then I notice she has dimples in both cheeks not just the one. Instantly it melts me and I feel like until now she’s never really smiled at me. When Elvis announces us as husband and wife, Emily cups my cheeks and gives me a passionate kiss that has me taken aback for a moment, before I’m melting into her. My elbow hits the horn as I reach over to grab the back of her head and dive my tongue deeper.

  “Okay, move along now we gotta lot of people,” Elvis says.

  Emily laughs and runs her thumbs along my cheeks, “Let’s go to my house,” she says.

  Happiness and something else rushes through me, and I press my foot on the break as I shift the car into gear and the tires squeal. Emily directs me where to go, and she lives in a large subdivision not far from The Strip. Her house is small but two stories with an attached garage and a clay tile roof.

  “I like this,” I say, looking at it.

  “Thank you, I worked so hard to get this place, it’s not much but I’m happy here.”

  The way she looks at her place with pride, hits my heart. I rush over and open her car door before she can, and once she’s standing, I pick her up and cradle her in my arms much like when I carried her into the hotel when her feet were sore. She giggles and digs for her keys in her purse. Flipping the lights on once we enter the front door, I set her back on her feet. She drops her purse on a side table and the place smells clean, like roses or something and I look around at the homey surroundings.

  “You want a beer?” she asks as she faces me.

  “No,” I shake my head.

  “I have water, ice tea-”

  I step forward and take her lips in a kiss, stopping her words as I lift her up.

  “I just want you.”

  Her legs wrap around my hips as she cups my face and kisses me back. Her hands tug on my hair, her tongue eagerly searching my mouth. I walk us up the steps, my hand bracing her back to keep us from tilting over. When we reach the top, I press her against the wall and my hands grope her tits, pressing them together and digging my fingertips into her skin. A torturous groan leaves her mouth and enters mine.

  “Sorry,” I reply, lessening my grip because I lose control of myself with her.

  I grind my jean covered crotch against hers, and bring my hands to her ass to pull her closer to me, mindful of how hard I grab her.

  “Don’t do that,” she gasps against my lips.

  “Sorry,” I repeat and pull my hands away.

  “No,” she pants, “I like when you can’t control it, don’t restrain yourself,” she tells me.

  I groan and lift her away from the wall, walking toward one of the three doors up here, hoping the first one has a bed in it because I need to fuck her. Thank fuck it does and I lay her down, opening her jeans up and pulling them off as I stand at the edge of the bed. There’s a little triangle of black fabric covering her pussy, and I can smell how wet she is.

  “Take off your shirt,” I nod at her, pulling my own shirt off.

  Arching her back and crossing her arms in front of her, she removes her shirt, revealing a black bra that has her tits perfectly pushed up and fuckable. Her lower lip slips between her teeth as she looks at me, I have my hand in my jeans and I’m stroking my cock, which I didn’t realize I was doing until her eyes hone-in there.

  “You’re so fucking perfect,” I tell her and watch as her eyes go soft.

  Her hands cup her tits, and then it’s like she realizes just now she still has a bra on and hastily removes it. I take that moment to remove my jeans and pull my cock out, reaching out for Emily’s hand and pulling her up to sit. My fingers run through her hair as I breathe deeply through my nose, rubbing my cock head along the seam of her big tits. She gets what I want and cups them together, bringing them around my dick and moving them up and down. My head falls back and my hips begin to thrust slow and smoothly between her boobs. Moments later I feel wetness and look down to see Emily lowering her head with her tongue out, the head of my cock rubbing along it. I grunt and lean down, my hand on her chin to urge her face up and lips to meet mine. My hips move faster now as I kiss the shit out of her.

  “Fuck me,” she whispers, pulling back and scooting up the bed, resting up on her hands as she parts her legs wide.

  My underwear comes off hastily as I kneel on the mattress and make my way toward her, cock hard and searching. When I reach her, my hands grasp her hips and pull her lower body up so she’s level with my dick, sliding slowly into her. Her head falls back as her mouth hangs open and I watch her tits bounce and move in reaction to me fucking her. Still holding her upper body up on her hands, she raises her head and looks down at where we meet and so do I. The veins in my arms are thick and pulsing beneath my skin as I hold onto her and claim her as my wife. Her pussy swallows me up, coating me with her wetness and her little clit’s hard and looks needy. Emily’s body tightens like she’s close to coming, but I want her on my tongue. Pulling out, I bring her hips up higher and to my mouth and she yelps in surprise. My tongue licks and slips, kisses and sucks, her clit throbbing against my lips. Her sounds are growing in volume, her hands giving way as she falls onto her back, her hands pulling my head against her harder as she grinds her core and comes in my mouth. With a kiss to each inner thigh, I set her body down and lay down beside her, my hand running along her torso as we both pant and she runs a hand down her face.

  “Don’t you want to come?” she pants, looking over at me.

  “Oh, I’m not done, just giving you a break, we need to pace ourselves…this is a marathon, not a race,” I state.

  ***

  “I don’t usually like guys with long hair, not that it’s really long,” Emily says, running her fingers through my chin length curly hair as we lay in bed on dark red sheets.

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “Well, it’s not always like this, I shave it off every few months,” I tell her, rolling onto my stomach.

  “You don’t like it long?” she asks.

  “The ends get too light from the sun and it’s always in my face…but I’ll keep it long if you want,” I smile.

  She gives me a look like I’m being silly but I’m dead serious, if she asked me to get a picture of her vagina tattooed on my forehead I would. Sitting up, Emily straddles my lower back, and I rest my head on my pillow, expecting a massage as Mariah Carey comes through the speakers. Instead, she grabs my hair and jerks my head up.

  “Ow,” I exclaim.

  “Oh stop,” she scoffs and begins messing with my hair.

  When my hair’s pulled back from my face and secured with something, she flops back onto the bed and with both hands on my cheeks, roughly jerks my head to face her.

  “Looks good,” she says as she looks upon her creation.

  “If you want to man handle me, at least get naked first.”

  She rolls her eyes before asking, “Where did you get the nickname, Smokey, from?”

  “I smoked a lot of pot in high school,” I state.

  Which is true, but really Chain gave it to me when I was twenty-one.

  “Really?”

  I shrug. “I’d smoke and then some other character came out of me, so they just started calling me that when I was high, ‘Here comes Smokey.’ Being Smokey’s why I have so many bad tattoos.”

  “Tell me about your tattoos.” She giggles because even in our short time together it’s clear I have horrifically bad judgement in tattoo decisions.

  “Most mean nothing, but a few are important,” I shrug, rolling onto my back.

  Emily sits up, her body incase
d in my t-shirt and her tits make it look better than I ever have.

  “What are the ones that mean something?” she asks trailing her fingers down the center of my stomach and causing my body to react.

  “Did you want me to answer that?” I ask, giving her a look while flexing my muscles to make my cock jump as I begin to harden, she looks at my crotch and pulls her hand back.

  “Sorry,” she says biting her smiling lower lip.

  “My mom’s name,” I answer, running my hand over my heart.

  Emily looks down and traces ‘Anita’ with her finger.

  “And a portrait of my mom and me on my thigh.”

  Her eyes move to my leg as I bend my knee and show her.

  “This is beautiful Samuel, she was beautiful,” she tells me.

  “I plan on getting another tattoo,” I say, holding out my hand.

  “Oh yeah? You don’t have much room,” she giggles.

  “I’ve saved a spot.”

  I ball my hand into a fist and raise my left ring finger. “I want my wife’s name here, I’m not a ring wearing kind of guy,” I shrug.

  Her eyes flick to mine and she inhales deeply, smiling before leaning down to kiss my lips.

  7

  Smokey

  I wake up and see the clock reading four a.m., and I roll over and against Emily’s naked back. I nudge her with my cock at her ass to wake her, but she doesn't budge. Emily clearly needs the sleep, so I decide to go get my shit from the hotel and check out.

  I'm back to the house in less than an hour, using a spare house key I grabbed from the key bowl on my way out. Walking back upstairs I hear the shower on in the master bathroom running, and strip my clothes off when I enter the bedroom. The bathroom doors ajar and the lights are off, only the small nightlight is on near the sink, which is odd but whatever. Over the sound of the water, I can make out crying or something. The pit of my stomach begins to ache that she’s regretting getting married, or never wants to see me again. Pulling open the glass shower door, she whips around and looks terrified as she sees me.

  “Sorry,” I hurry out, holding my hands up.

  Even in the dim light, I can see she was crying, and once she realizes it’s me, her lip quivers as she crashes her body into mine. Instantly my arms wrap around her, her body trembling as she continues to cry.

  “Emily, what happened? Emily?” I ask in a panic, not sure what the fuck is going on.

  A moment later she pulls away and smacks my arm. "I thought you left,” she says angrily.

  "I did leave," I state.

  “No.” she groans as she wipes her eyes with the backs of her hands. “Like never coming back left.”

  There’s that feeling in my chest again, happiness and something more. She was worried I’d abandoned her, like I mattered to her. I give her a grin and she smacks at my chest this time, but I push her arms down and hug her again.

  “So, I guess you like me, huh?” I tease, but really, I want to hear her say the words.

  “Shut up,” she says, turning in my arms to face the streaming water.

  “Oh come on, is it that hard to say? You just say ‘yes Smokey, I like you. Hell, you could even call me Samuel.”

  “It’s all just weird okay?” she finally says.

  “What’s weird?”

  “All of this…how we met, why we met, it’s all so bizarre when you think about it…how the universe aligns you to come into contact with someone,” she tells me as she grabs the body wash and begins lathering it on her skin.

  “I guess, I never really thought about it,” I say, but honestly this shit is way above my education level. “So does that mean you like me?” I ask again in a trance as her hands caress her curves.

  A smile spreads over my lips before she even turns around to face me, her hands lathering my chest with soap.

  “Why do you think I never mentioned using a condom or being on birth control? Because I knew Smokey, with you I knew you were it,” she says softly, looking at her fingers.

  “What?” I ask, taken aback.

  “Oh come on, you think I would just go to a hotel with some random guy? The fact that I told you to fuck off and you came back,” she laughs a little. “When I didn’t see you for three weeks, I drove myself crazy thinking I’d never see you again, and then, there you were. You and me are the same, Samuel, I see something in you that I feel every day. I know we can make this work, I don’t know how or why, but I feel we can.”

  **Six months later**

  Emily and I’ve been married six months now. Six glorious months…no bullshit. It has been glorious. I’ve never been happier, or more alive. Something about Emily’s ability to laugh at almost anything, along with her lust for me has me living like I never knew before. Not to say everything’s been perfect. When I told her we were staying in Vegas so she could finish school, was our first major disagreement.

  “I want to move to Plantain, we don’t have to stay here. I can transfer somewhere close for school, there's a college not too far from Blue Falls.”

  “Blue Falls is like an hour away and that school is almost forty-five minutes from there. That's ridiculous, we’ll just live here until you're done. Besides my place sucks, so.”

  My place doesn’t suck, but there’s no way I can move us to Plantain and she never hear about my involvement with the MC. Clearly, the solution to that would be to tell her the truth, but I’ve dug the truth so far down into a hole there’s no way Emily would ever forgive me at this point.

  “You should be focusing on school fulltime,” I say, and raise a hand when she looks over at me with wide eyes. “Shut up and let me talk before you go on some women's lib shit...quit school, I’ll handle bills and whatever. Concentrate on school, let me take care of you."

  “So, you make the decisions now?” she asks, crossing her arms under her big titties.

  “I told you not to go woman’s lib on me,” I sigh.

  “Told me?” she says with a raise of her eyebrow.

  With a growl, I move toward her and put her over my shoulder, causing her to laugh. This easiness, effortlessly getting along with someone, it makes my love for her grow daily.

  **

  I’m a nomad from the club now. When we first got married, I still had jobs booked with the MC that I couldn’t break. And when I had to do club business, I explained to Emily that I was just going to Plantain to get my shit to move in. Thankfully, she never really questioned me. But once those jobs came close to being over, I told Sven my plans and that I wanted to try a life without the club for a while. In true Sven fashion, he told me anything I needed to just give him a holler, and with that all my MC shit and bike went into a storage unit. I hate keeping this from her, but I can’t lose her, not over this especially.

  I have enough savings to support us for a while, but instead of lying about being an entrepreneur or some sort of rich business man, I take a job at a local mechanic shop. The work is steady and my boss and coworkers are fine enough, and they let me work while Emily’s at school and while she works her jobs. She told me she didn’t want to quit either job just yet, that she didn’t want to put the lawn place in a lurch and with the casino, she needed the medical insurance. When I get off every night, I head up to the casino and bring us dinner so we can spend some time together. Instead of her smoking, we sit outside where we’d originally met and eat together, talking about our days. It’s not much time, but I look forward to it every day. Most nights I try to wait up for her, but usually she has to wake me up so we can talk and fuck. For the first time, I feel like this is what life is supposed to be. I wish we saw each other more, but she’s my wife, there will always be time. School won’t last forever, her working two jobs won’t last forever. It’s just comfortable, and stable, something I haven’t had since my mom died.

  As time went on, Emily opened up to me more about her family. She thinks her mom was a drug addict but doesn’t really remember. How she always hated when her dad came by, she tried to be mad, s
he loved him and would see past everything just to spend some time with him, only for him to leave again.

  “It’s like no matter how hard I try to get over him, and forget it, something about hearing a motorcycle or anything like that, just angers me.”

  “Yeah, but not all guys who are in clubs or ride bikes are like your dad, he was the asshole,” I tell her as we sit in pool lounger chairs in the backyard.

  “I know, but, it just makes me sick when I see a motorcycle… the reaction is visceral.”

  “I see,” I mumble, but really I have no idea what that word means and turn my head to soak up some sun.

  “You’re going to get burnt,” she tells me after a minute.

  “No way, I was born in the sun,” I boast, looking down at my naked body aside from my black briefs.

  “I bought you a bathing suit-” she begins.

  “First of all,” I say, “you got me trunks, you can’t tan in trunks. Secondly, since you didn’t get me the adequate suit for tanning, I have to wear my briefs. And thirdly, and definitely the most important item on the list, your neighbor Paul likes me in these.”

  “I bet he does,” she laughs and looks over her shoulder up at Paul’s house.

  Sure enough he’s standing in a second floor window and Emily and I wave at him. Emily sighs and I close my eyes, the over one hundred degree weather has me like a cat lounging on a driveway.

  “Are you wearing oil?” she questions with humor in her tone.

  “Don’t be jealous you have to go to work,” I state.

  “Oh I’m totally jealous,” she scoffs.

  “Come here,” I say looking over with squinted eyes and reaching a hand out.

  “What?”

  “Come on,” I repeat.

  “I have to go get dressed for work soon,” she tells me as she stands, pressing skip on the cd player and TLC’s- ‘Ain’t 2 Proud 2 Beg’ begins.