by Annie Stone
I feel her pull the duvet on top of me and run her hand across my head. Then she’s gone, and I fall into a deep, deep sleep.
16
Mackenzie
Oh my God! All I can think is: Hunter’s penis is huge. And then I want to slap myself—he’s still Carter’s son, even now that he’s eighteen.
But the truth is I’ve never seen such a big dick so hard. What I felt against my back a few months ago in the hall had me guessing, but I never thought it would be that big. It was so hard the tip almost touched his belly, which, by the way, wasn’t bad either. And his balls…
I shake my head, trying to chase the thoughts away. I can’t think about him that way! My thoughts drift to the veins weaving their way across the surface of his penis. No, no, no! Think of something disgusting.
Cockroaches. Chewed-up cookies. Children… I wonder what Hunter’s children would look— No! Why did I even think of children in this context? It was just the appeal of alliteration, Mac, stop it!
But I can’t even fool myself.
In the kitchen, I grab a cold water bottle and hold it against my burning cheek. God, no quasi-stepmother should ever see her quasi-stepson’s penis. I take a sip of water. Sleep seems hopeless now, so I grab a blanket and sit out on the giant rocking chair on the porch. I lean my head back and stare out into the night.
Hunter’s going away to college soon. I should ask him if he’s decided where to go yet, though who knows if he’s ever going to talk to me again. And if he does, do I want to use up words on something stupid like that? No, first I’ll apologize for calling him a child.
What’s life going to be like with just Carey here? And what’s it going to be like for him when his big brother, the only constant in his life, leaves? I wonder if he’ll ever hang around the house or if he’ll just be at Katie’s all the time. They are so cute together. I really like her, not that anyone asked my opinion. But what about Hunter?
Does he have a girlfriend? And where was he today? And has he grown more muscular, or am I just imagining things? Is it from football?
I also can’t help wondering what will become of me when he leaves. Carter and I have kind of gotten our act together again, but now I know for sure that one important reason he’s with me is for his kids. Because they like me and I babysit them when he’s gone. Though “babysit” may be the wrong term. I mean, they are potty-trained and everything.
To be honest, I miss those weeks when Hunter and Carey had first started liking me—before Hunter’s feelings made everything so complicated. It felt so much like family. And it’s strange, but I don’t feel that way with Carter. I love him, truly, from the heart, but it doesn’t feel like we’ll always be together. With Carey and Hunter, that’s just how it feels. Like family. It’s strange, really. Since the three of them are family, it should feel like a sure thing that either all three or none of them will be in my life forever. But that’s not how it feels.
I yawn, but I still can’t close my eyes.
What am I doing with my life? I love my job, but somehow, even for me, it’s not enough. I want to do more. The women who come into our center for help constitute just a small handful of victims among the thousands of women who need help. I want to reach out to more people, and I want to change things from the ground up—get to the cause rather than just treating the effects.
But that would mean leaving Shane, Jean, Sheila, and all the rest of them. I would see them of course, because they’d still be friends. But it would be the same. Still, right now, they feel like a safety net for me. When I finally leave Free at Last, it will be a big step, as it will mean removing the solid base I’ve been standing on. I don’t know if I can do that, but I think I’ll have to at some point. I need to find a way to live my life the way I’m supposed to.
But I’m also afraid the decision will take me away from Carter. I can’t describe it, because I don’t really know why I think that, I just do. If I take this step, I’m going to lose more than my job. Can I handle that risk?
And then there’s Brittany. She’s my best friend, and I really love her. Sure, she’s crazy, while I’m cautious, impulsive while I try to turn things down a notch. But she makes sure the sun always shines for me, even when my face looks like a rainy day. She’s helped me gain a more positive outlook on life, even if I’ve never confided in her the truth about my past—she only knows my childhood wasn’t great. But I’m not sure I’ll ever tell her now. Because her obsession with Hunter is starting to grate on me. Whenever we see each other, all she talks about is how handsome he is, what his penis would taste like, what his hands would feel like on her breasts. It’s disturbing, really. Maybe I should tell Carter… After all, I don’t want Hunter to get hurt in his youthful naivety. Not that she would abuse him in the literal sense, but he might fall in love with her while she just wants to play with him.
Obviously, I don’t want him to get hurt. It’s bad enough that I have to hurt him by rejecting him. God, how I wish it was possible to make everybody happy…
But that’s just an unrealistic utopian fantasy.
Carter wakes me up the next morning. Sleepily, I stretch and look around. I’m on the porch.
“What are you doing out here, sweetie?”
I sigh. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came out here. I guess sleep did catch up with me in the end.”
He kisses me on the forehead. “Mackenzie… We need to talk.”
I sit up. “Okay.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Things in New York aren’t going great,” he says. “I’m going to have to stay up there for a few months.”
“A few months?” I repeat in a horrified squeak.
He has the decency to look contrite. “I know. I’m sorry, sweetie. There’s no way around it. I’ll come home as much as I can, but I really have to work my ass off up there. Otherwise, everything I’ve been working on so hard will be for nothing.”
“Precisely how long is ‘a few months’?”
He sighs. “Five.”
“Five?” I thought I was squeaking before, but my pitch keeps getting higher.
“Maybe only four, if everything goes okay,” he hurries to add.
“Carter…”
“I know, sweetie. I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Can I come with you?” I ask. I don’t really want to, but I’m not going to spend five months away from my boyfriend.
He scratches his chin, embarrassed. “I would love to have you with me, but…I need you here.” I stare at him. “Someone needs to stay with Carey.”
I nod slowly. “Right.”
“But, hey, maybe you two could come for his summer break,” he says.
“Did you ask Carey if he wants to spend the summer in New York?” I ask. “Away from all his friends?”
“No,” Carter says, looking down, “I guess he wouldn’t want that.”
For a few seconds, I think over what I’m going to say. But in the end, I decide to just say what I’m thinking. “Carter, I don’t mind watching Carey, but…you know…I wonder what’s going to become of us. I mean, are we really still even a couple? We hardly spend any time together. We have no shared interests anymore. You’re always working, or in New York or somewhere else. Our relationship needs a little time and effort.”
He frowns. “What are you saying, Mackenzie?”
I glance at him. “Do you still love me, Carter?”
His eyes soften, and he touches my cheek. “Of course I love you, sweetheart. I’m crazy about you.”
“Really?” I ask softly.
He puts his arms around me. “Sweetie, if you have any doubt about my feelings for you, I’m doing everything wrong.”
Relief spreads through me. “I love you,” I whisper against his neck.
“I love you, Mackenzie.”
“What’s this? Group hug?” Carey’s amused voice comes from the doorway to the kitchen. When we don’t break apart, he groans. “Get a room! Kids are not sup
posed to see their father’s attempts at foreplay.”
“Sounds like we need to have a chat about the birds and the bees,” Carter laughs. “If you think a hug is foreplay, I must not have done a very good job the first time around.”
“Ha, ha, very funny, Dad.”
“Watch that tone, young man,” Carter says. In one quick movement, he jumps up, grabs Carey’s arm, and hurls him into the pool.
I break out in laughter as Carey comes back up snorting. “Fuck, Dad! This is freezing!”
Carter just laughs. “That’s your punishment.”
“For what?” Carey asks, slowly climbing the ladder out of the pool.
“For interrupting our foreplay.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t foreplay,” Carey grumbles.
Carter smiles. “You should stop talking before you’re grounded.”
“Pshh.” Carey shakes off like a dog and heads back inside. “Are you trying to punish me or Mac?”
“Little brat,” Carter mutters happily. When Carey closes the door behind him, Carter sits down on one of the lounge chairs and beckons me over. I sit between his legs, and he pulls me into his arms. “Sweetie, I love you. I would prefer to stay here with you, but I can’t. I wish I hadn’t signed this deal in the first place, but I did, so I have to see it through now. But you’re a deal I’m going to see through, too. I’ll come back here to visit as much as I can. Promise.”
I snuggle up against his chest. “I’ll miss you.”
He kisses me on the head and leans his against mine. “I’ll miss you too. Remember what it was like in the beginning? No kids, no business trips, just you naked and utterly tempting in my bed all the time.”
I smile and pull his arms tighter around me. “I liked that part—being naked in your bed—the best.”
“Me too.” I feel him looking around before he slides his hand inside my pajama bottoms. I moan quietly as he runs his fingers across my clit and down between my labia.
“The boys are here,” I mumble, already turned on.
“Hunter’s still sleeping, and Carey won’t come out again since he knows what we’re up to,” he whispers in my ear, his breath stroking my neck. I slide my head to one side so he can kiss me. “Open your legs wider, sweetie.”
I give him space and put my hand down my pajama bottoms, too, placing it on top of his.
“Mmm, yeah, sweetie, you like this, huh?” he growls as my breath quickens.
He dips a few fingers inside me, runs them around the entrance, teasing me, and then penetrates me with two fingers, thrusting them in as deep as he can. His free hand finds its way under the blanket and my top, and reaches around my breasts, kneading them softly.
“God, Carter,” I sigh.
“Relax, sweetie. Good.”
His thumb pushes against my clit, and I start twitching. My stomach muscles contract really tight—I would topple forward if he wasn’t holding on so tightly.
His arms feel moist on my skin, and his lips keep running up and down my neck. He nibbles my earlobe, licking along the outside, kissing the tender skin behind it.
“Carter, Carter…”
“Hmmm, this is turning you on, huh? You love it,” he says, his voice so deep that it alone almost makes me come.
His fingers keep thrusting into me, faster and faster. When we first started seeing each other, he always looked for the G-spot, but I guess I’m just one of those women where it’s not so prominent. Still, he knows how to get me to explode pretty deftly.
With a practiced movement of his thumb against the skin above my clit, he frees it and lightly rubs it with his nail. I arch in front of his chest and moan loudly, all my muscles contracting, pressure building up inside me—until I implode.
“Carter!” I gasp, his thumb squeezing against me to extend the sensation. And extend it. And extend it again.
Spent, I lie back in his arms. He kisses me gently, and if I could purr, I would.
“Thank you,” I say, turning half around to kiss his chest.
“My pleasure. Every time.”
Men… Even if they could, they wouldn’t wipe that smug smile off their faces after managing to pleasure a woman. At least not the ones talented at it…
“Is everything okay between us?” he asks after we’ve cuddled for a while.
I nod. “Yes. I’m just afraid of losing you.”
“You’re not going to lose me. I want to be with you.”
“Good.”
He kisses me on the cheek. “How about I take you out for breakfast? What do you think? Just you and me in that little cafe in the Gaslamp Quarter?”
“That sounds awesome,” I say, smiling.
“Go get ready then.”
I hurry upstairs and into the shower, and then I get dressed like I’m trying to win a race. As I rush back down the stairs, I fall into Carter’s arms, since he’s standing right there in the perfect place. He laughs and kisses me before setting me back on my feet. Carter, the perfect gentleman. He’s almost too good for me.
We leave the house, laughing and talking and joking. It is a joy of a day.
For two months, Carey, Hunter, and I play family. They spend a lot of time at home, and I have to admit it, I love being with them. We cook, watch movies, goof off, and talk about our dreams and ideas.
“What did you want to be when you were my age?” Carey asks one night when we’re standing around the kitchen while I peel potatoes for dinner.
“Hmm, let me think… A teacher, maybe? I think that’s what I wanted to be at the time.”
“A teacher?” He pulls a face.
I smile. “Not your thing, huh? What do you want to be?”
He gives me an embarrassed look.
“Come on, Tilman,” I cajole him. “It can’t be that bad.”
Hunter crosses his arms and smiles broadly. “Tell her, Carey boy.” Carey shows him his middle finger, but Hunter goes on, “Don’t be a coward. Tell her you want to be a—”
“Hunter!” Carey snaps.
Hunter smiles at his little brother, then grows serious. “It’s a really amazing idea. I’m proud of you.”
Carey swallows. I put my hand on his arm, and he looks down at me. He’s grown a lot this year. Soon, he’ll be even taller than Hunter, who’s nearly six-five. “What do you want to be?” I ask him quietly.
“A paramedic.”
I nod and take his face in my hands. “You’re an amazing young man, Carey.”
His smile is half insecurity, half happiness. “You don’t think it’s a little girly? Wanting to take care of sick people?”
“Quite the contrary. I think being a man means taking responsibility for helping others when they need it. And taking care of those who can’t take care of themselves. You wanting to do that makes me really proud.”
Stooping abruptly, he picks me up and hugs me, squeezing so tight I can hardly breathe. As he sets me back on my feet, he murmurs, “Thanks, Mac.”
I kiss him on the cheek and go back to the potatoes. “What about you, Hunt?”
He shrugs. “No idea.”
“Shouldn’t you come up with some ideas soon? You know, for picking a major and stuff?”
“I guess so,” he mumbles.
“But…?” I prod.
He chews on a piece of bell pepper. “But it’s hard to make a decision that’s going to affect the rest of my freaking life.”
I nod. “But it doesn’t have to be forever. You can always change your major, or start a new career—at any point in life. For example, if you were to study law, that wouldn’t mean you have to be a lawyer for the rest of your life. The world’s your oyster.”
“Law?” he repeats.
“Why not?”
“Do you really see me as a lawyer?”
“I don’t know,” I say, screwing up the corners of my mouth. “You’d have to rethink your wardrobe for sure.”
His mouth drops open in mock offense. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
&nbs
p; I smile. “You can’t wear baggy pants and sneakers in the court room. And there’d be no, ‘Yo, hey, Your Honor.’”
“That would be bad ass!” Carey throws in.
Hunter laughs. “Well, I wouldn’t do any of that if I were a lawyer.”
“Really?” I ask doubtfully.
“No, Mac, I’d kill it as a lawyer. I’d be like Harvey Specter.”
“Oh, Suits!” I say. “I like him. He has no scruples at all.”
Carey gives me a surprised look. “You like unscrupulous men?”
“No, of course not. But being bit of a bad ass every now and again doesn’t do any harm.”
Hunter raises his eyebrows. “Oh, really?”
“Yes, really. And if you knew what girls liked, you’d be out getting your motorcycle license right now.”
“Oh, would I?” Hunter asks quietly.
“Yes,” I say confidently. “Girls love bikes. As Lorelai Gilmore once said, if you’re going to throw your life away for a guy, he better have a motorcycle!”
Carey laughs. “So if I had a bike, you’d ride bitch?”
“No way,” I say resolutely.
“What, you scared?” Hunter teases.
“No, but Carey’s bitch seat is already taken.”
Carey laughs, nodding. “So Katie’ll ride bitch with me, and you can ride with Hunter.”
Hunter looks smug before he puts on a diabolic smile. “Maybe I don’t want Mac on my bike.”
Something inside me flinches. I don’t know what it is, but it’s the weirdest sensation. I don’t look up, but Carey laughs at Hunter’s words.
Luckily, the doorbell rings then, and Carey goes to let Katie in. When he’s gone, Hunter comes closer. “Mac… I’m sorry.”
I look up at him. “Oh, it’s all right, we’re just being silly.”
Katie and Carey come into the kitchen, and I think I hear Hunter mutter, “Are we?”
It’s easy to forget the clock is ticking. Because most days I wish we could go on like this forever.