Take a Chance

by Ash Johnson

  “The sun coming through the blinds woke me up. Why would you shut my alarm off?”

  He gives me a small smile, and the look in his eyes tells me I’m going to love his next words before he even says them. “You don’t get a lot of sleep, and I thought I would help you out. I got up when I heard Alex moving around and came to make us both breakfast. I was going to run her to school and then come back to wake you up to get ready for work at the diner.”

  Yep. Love.

  Tears start to well in my eyes. I haven’t had help with my overloaded daily schedule in so long that I don’t know what to do with this wonderful man offering to help. A pesky tear escapes my eye, and I try to swipe it away before Blake sees it, but I’m not quick enough.

  He rushes around the island toward me, gently wrapping me up in his arms. “Babe, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?”

  I shake my head slowly and grin. “These are happy tears. I just haven’t had help when it comes to all the things I have to do; so it’s overwhelming when you offer to help without me having to ask, that’s all.”

  “Well, don’t worry, babe. I’m here to help, and I’m not going anywhere. Why don’t you head back to bed, and I’ll wake you up in a little bit?”

  “Aren’t you tired, too? You got about as much sleep as I did.” He had slept a little before I came home from the club last night but must not have slept much since then.

  “I’ll be alright. I don’t have much going on today. Just a few PT sessions and a bit of paperwork for the gym, and then I’ll come home and catch a few winks. Don’t you worry your pretty little ass about me. I’ll be fine.” He smirks and then pinches said ass, making me yelp and jump closer to him.

  “Come on, Alex. Let’s get you to school before you’re late.” He winks at me and spins us both, pushing me back toward the stairs and then moving the other direction.

  “And you get some sleep,” he says, pointing at me as Alex steps around him and out the front door. “You’re going to need it once I get back.”

  And with that, he shuts the door, leaving me a quivering mess at the foot of the stairs.

  ***

  Work at the diner was long and tedious, and I’m more than glad to be done for the day. Unfortunately, I have to go back for the next four days. And the next week. And then the week after that, until hell freezes over. I’ll smell like stale French fries and onions for the rest of my life. I slunk through the door and find Blake sitting on the stairs, a smirk on his face.

  “Welcome home, babe. I’ve been waiting for you,” he growls, and every nerve ending in my body vibrates.

  “Oh, you have, have you? And what have you been waiting for exactly?” I tease as I clench my internal muscles to try and ward off the throbbing.

  “Well, let’s go upstairs, and I’ll show you.”

  “I need to shower first. I stink.”

  He takes my hand and leads me up the stairs with him, and my eyes move his firm ass in his plaid shorts. “Even better, because I need to make sure you get everything squeaky clean.”

  He leads me into the extra bathroom and locks the door behind us. Before I can even blink, my Guy’s t-shirt has been ripped off and the button to my khaki shorts popped open, the zipper quickly following.

  “Holy crap, how did you get my clothes off that fast?” I ask in amazement.

  “I’ve wanted to see your sexy naked body all damn day. Now that I have you here, I’m not going to waste any more of my time on petty things like clothes.”

  Once I’m down to my plain white cotton bra that has seen better days and gray cotton boy shorts—because when do I have the time or money to shop for matching underwear?—I watch Blake remove his clothes at Mach five speed. While I stand in my skivvies, he’s gloriously naked and hard everywhere, causing my panties to become wet.

  He stalks around my frozen body and switches the shower on. While he’s fiddling around with the knobs, I take the time to scan his body, stopping at his luscious, firm back side. The round globes of his cheeks are toned and perfect, and I have to fight the urge to reach out and squeeze them like they’re peaches and I’m in charge of testing their ripeness.

  When he gets the water to the correct temperature, he glances back to me and sees me ogling his ass. He snaps his fingers a few times, and my body jolts, my eyes moving from his rock hard buns to his face. “My eyes are up here, honey.” He smirks and moves toward me.

  He hooks his thumbs into the sides of my underwear, slowly tugging them down. His fingers tickle my hip bones and then glide over my pelvis before reaching the apex of my thighs. When he slides one finger inside of me, I grip onto his shoulders tightly, trying to keep my balance as my knees almost give out. Blake wraps his other arm around my waist, pulling me a bit closer. “Don’t worry, babe. I won’t let you fall.”

  His words prove to be true when he inserts another finger and curls them both, hitting my most sensitive area; and my legs turn into mush. He runs his thumb over my clit a few times, and I can feel my inner muscles tightening, and I feel I may come at any second.

  The loud panting coming from my mouth would be embarrassing if I wasn’t so focused on coming. I can’t think past the sensation of his fingers curling to hit a certain spot that almost renders me blind. Blake leans his head closer to me, his mouth right up against my ear and whispers, “Give it to me, Harlow. I want to feel you come against my fingers.”

  When he bites down on my earlobe, pushing his thumb against my clit at the same time, my release takes over, and I let out a small scream.

  “That’s what I want to hear,” he murmurs, and I can feel him smile against my neck. “Now let’s get your sexy little body in the shower so I can touch every inch of you.”

  I follow him into the steamed up shower stall, and after Blake takes his time touching and cleaning every inch of me, I do the quick wash version so that I can get my hands on his long dick, which has been ramrod straight and taunting me since he took his shorts off.

  When my fingers wrap around him and squeeze, Blake lets out the sexiest groan I’ve ever heard. “Oh damn, baby, that feels good.”

  I slowly get on my knees, kissing along his torso on my way down, and give him one last glance before I hope to rock his world.

  I lean forward and kiss the mushroom-shaped head twice before licking the slit and wrapping my mouth around him tightly. Once my mouth is as far down as it can go, Blake buries his hands in my wet, slicked-back hair and tugs, spurring me to try and take him deeper. I wrap one fist around the base of his dick, pumping it in time with my up and down motions, and use the other hand to grab onto his tight sac, giving a tiny squeeze.

  Only a few minutes into it, Blake’s hips are moving back and forth with me, and his balls have drawn up tight so I know he’s close to the edge.

  “Oh yeah, baby, suck it …. You suck me so good,” he stutters out, gripping harder on my head.

  On my downward motion I stop and swallow, feeling him swell everywhere. He gives me two taps on the back of the head, and I pull him out of my mouth, not prepared to swallow him yet. As soon as I get my face out of shooting range, I give him two more pumps of my hand, and white ribbons of semen shoot across my collarbone and down to my breasts. Blake groans as he comes, his body stiffening and then suddenly limp.

  “Holy fuck, Harlow. I don’t even want to know where you learned to do that shit, but I look forward to it happening again.” He helps me up from the shower floor and spins me into the spray to wash himself off my body.

  I just smile instead of getting into the discussion of blowjobs and enjoy the feel of his arms around my waist as we savor the last few minutes of hot water. When we’re both out, we dry each other off, stealing kisses in the process, and then leave the bathroom.

  “I’m gonna get dressed and then start dinner for us. See you in a few minutes?” he asks. The fact that he’s standing in the hallway with only a towel wrapped around his waist distracts me from his question, and I zone out once again. Blake cl
ears his throat, laughing when my eyes snap up to his face.

  “Umm, yeah. I’ll see you in a minute,” I answer and then sprint to my room before I say, “Screw dinner,” and jump his sexy body.

  I throw on my matching—which is a miracle because I buy cheap underwear—blue bra and undies and a pair of jean shorts with an old band t-shirt that I acquired in high school. As soon as I reach the bottom of the stairs, the doorbell rings. I think about letting it go, but Blake sees me and asks me to answer it.

  I open the door and find an older man and woman both dressed in high-class clothing, him in a black suit with a red tie and her in an awful peach pencil skirt and slick matching blazer with a white blouse.

  “Hello,” I say, confused as to who they are and why they are staring at me like my hair is on fire. “Can I help you?”

  The woman clears her throat and speaks first. “Yes, you can,” she sneers. “You can tell me who you are and what you’re doing in my son’s house.”

  “Excuse me?” I say, because it takes me a second to sort through this woman’s rude comments and realize that this must be Blake’s mom and her latest husband.

  “You heard her. Where is her son?” the man says, his eyes doing a head-to-toe scan of my body, focusing on my breast area like he has x-ray vision. I’m not even sure what he’s staring at since the shirt is loose enough that nothing is visible, until I peer down. There is a slight horizontal tear right above my breasts. Great.

  I feel Blake at my back, pulling the door open wider. “Mom? David?”

  “My name is Simon,” the man growls, upset that Blake got him confused with one of his mother’s other husbands.

  “Hello, Jonathon. Are you going to let us in, or is your scantily clad housekeeper going to play dumb a bit longer?” his mother snarls.

  Jonathon? Who the hell is Jonathon? I look to Blake for an answer and find he is gripping the door so tight his knuckles are white, a deep scowl on his face.

  “She is not my housekeeper; she is my girlfriend, and if you insult her one more time, you will not be welcome in my home ever again. Understood?” h

  His mother gasps and her husband’s face glazes over in a mixture of boredom and lust as he keeps staring at me. Blake steps in front of me to stop his perusal, but it doesn’t make the dirty feeling of the man’s eyes on my body evaporate.

  “I bought this house Jonathon, and I will always be welcome here,” his mother says quietly with a sinister undertone.

  “Dad may have found it and put a down payment on the place, but I’m the one who paid it off, and I pay the taxes on it every year. I’m the owner of this house, and I can kick you out any time I want. Watch what you say.”

  With that, Blake opens the door wider and steps back, wrapping his free arm around my waist to pull me back with him. Once his mother and the newest accessory are in and they have moved toward the kitchen, I turn to him.

  “Jonathon?” I ask.

  “It’s my first name. Blake is my middle name. I’ve gone by it since I was in the sixth grade.” I give him an incredulous glare, surprised that he hasn’t told me any of this. “I’m sorry I never told you, but I don’t like talking about most things when it comes to my family. I’m Jonathon Blake Maynard Jr., but I didn’t want to be associated with my pretentious ass of a father, so I go by Blake.”

  I raise my brows as I take in his words but don’t say anything, too stunned by what he’s telling me. Blake places his arm on my lower back and pulls me closer to him. “Can we get through having them here for whatever damn reason they’re here, and then we’ll talk as soon as I can get rid of them, please?”

  I nod and push up on my toes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before we both head to the kitchen to face his mother and her husband.

  This ought to be good.

  Chapter 24

  Blake

  Jesus, why the hell is my mother here? She never comes to my house unless she wants something from me. Most of the time both of my parents wait for my obligatory visit on major holidays before they drill into me about how I’m wasting my life by giving “back massages” to people instead of becoming a criminal lawyer like my father or why I haven’t planned my wedding to a vapid girl named Muffy or some other stupid shit from my mother’s country club.

  I follow Harlow into the kitchen, more focused at the moment on the sway of her sexy ass than the spawn of Satan and her new boy toy sitting at my dining room table.

  “Jonathon,” my mother hisses. I move my eyes from my girlfriend’s sweet behind to the narrowed eyes of my pretentious mother.

  I clear my throat and take a deep breath in an attempt to keep myself calm during this visit, even though I can feel my blood pressure rising and we haven’t even had a full conversation yet. “Mother, Ronald, is there a reason you are on this side of town, or did you just drop by to say hello?”

  My mother’s most recent bank account glares at me for confusing him with one of the other men she’s had along the way, and it somehow makes this visit a bit comical.

  “Well, we stopped by to say hello of course, but we did have a bit of news that I wanted to share as well. I’m sure you know that Simon is a partner at his firm, and he’s just come across some interesting news. I’ll let him fill you in.” My mom shifts in her seat as she waits for her current accessory to announce his “news.”

  I glare at her and then glance at Simon who is sitting next to her, but his eyes are on Harlow; he’s not even focused on our conversation. “Hey,” I growl. He swings his head back to me, as though attempting to figure out what the hell we’re all talking about. He’s been so busy eye-fucking my girlfriend that he doesn’t have a clue what’s been said.

  “Tell him the news, Simon,” my mom whispers, ignoring the fact that her husband was checking out another woman. It wouldn’t be the first time my mom has let something slide when it comes to her men and other women, and I’m sure it won’t be the last, either.

  He clears his throat and squints as if he’s trying to figure out how to pitch whatever bullshit he’s going to throw at me, which I’ll be sure to shoot down. “We just had one of our higher ups quit in our criminal law department, and we have a position that needs to be filled. If you would like to finish law school, I can hold it for you, Jonathon.” I’m already shaking my head ‘before he can finish his sentence. I should have known this was what they wanted to talk about.

  I shift over to my mom’s excited face and scowl at her. Between her and my father, I get this guilt trip every two months or so. “Mother, I’ve told you that I won’t ever go back to school. I don’t want to be a lawyer. I’m happy as a physical therapist and with the gym. It’s turned over a great profit since I bought it, and I’ve stashed away a lot of it.”

  My mother has the gall to snicker when I tell her that I’m happy with my life. She’s only happy with a martini in one hand and a group of snooty bitches as friends—who wouldn’t blink before they stabbed her in the back. I’m not sure I understand why she cares so much about what I do with my life, but I am sure it has something to do with her social standing or the way her friends look down on her for not having a lawyer son like they do.

  “So you’re happy to live a mediocre life with that trash living here?” she sneers as she points a bony, manicured finger at Harlow. Harlow appears offended and pissed off, but I know she won’t say anything, because she has a kind heart and would hurt herself before she would intentionally hurt someone else.

  I open my mouth to defend her, but Alex makes her way into the room. She’s wearing a cutoff white tank top, her bright pink bra visible underneath, and a pair of booty shorts. Her red hair is piled into a messy ball on top of her head, and she has way too much makeup on.

  “What’s up with all the growling in here?” Alex asks, glancing at all of us like we’re crazy. My mother gasps when she notices Alex’s clothing.

  “And who is this, Jonathon?” my mom barks.

  “She’s Harlow’s—” I don’t even finish
my sentence before my mother makes her own assumptions.

  “So your slutty girlfriend has a teenage daughter, and she’s using you, your money, and your family name to get by?”

  I open my mouth to lay into my judgmental bitch of a mother, but Harlow does something I never thought I’d see: She defends herself. “Excuse me? I don’t know what I’ve done to you other than open the front door and smile at you, but you have absolutely no reason to make such rude and disapproving comments about me. If you must know, this is my little sister, not my daughter; and even if I’d known that Blake was rich, I wouldn’t be with him for that reason. I have no desire to date someone based on their financial status, unlike some.”

  My mother lets loose another gasp, as if Harlow is the crude one. I smirk, proud of my girl for laying it all out. Harlow stands up and grabs hold of Alex’s forearm, steering them out of the kitchen. “If you’ll excuse us, we have better things to do than to sit here and be judged by people who have no room to be casting stones at others.”

  Once Harlow and Alex are out of the room, I turn back to the table, only to find an expression of hatred on my mother’s face and one of lust on Simon’s.

  “Are you going to let your girlfriend talk to us like that, Jonathon?” my mom demands.

  “First off, it’s Blake, Mom. I’ve been telling you to call me Blake since the seventh grade. And second, yes, I am going to let her talk to you like that. You were more than rude to her before she even opened her mouth, so she had every damn right to say the things she did. Harlow is a great girl, and I like her.” Maybe even love her, I think to myself, but I don’t dare say it out loud yet.

  “Why don’t you come to the club house with me for our monthly luncheon this weekend, and I can introduce you to a nice girl who is more in tune with your social status? We can find you someone just as great as or even better than Marlow,” my bitch of a mother tells me with a snake like smile. Husband number five—or is it six?—still hasn’t said a word, his eyes glued to the last place Harlow was standing as he tunes out my cackling mom.