by Ashlee Price
Yes, I did suggest it, but I didn't actually think Jess would take my suggestion.
Maybe I've underestimated her?
I grin. "Go ahead, then. After all, we're practically married, aren't we?"
Let's see what she can do, how far she can go.
Jess plants another kiss on my neck. Then she withdraws her hand to unzip the sleeping bag. The thick flap that serves as the blanket falls aside.
When her hand returns, it pushes the waistband of my pants and the garter of my briefs past my hips. My cock springs free and pulses in the cool air.
Jess leans over me and wraps her fingers around the rod of flesh.
I feel the cold metal of her ring-my ring-against my heated skin and gasp.
The heat disperses throughout my body.
She starts stroking me. I stare blankly at the stack of CDs in front of me as my heart hammers in my chest.
Her strokes lack experience and finesse, and yet, I tremble. The friction sends sparks through my veins.
It's not just Jess's hands that are sending me into a fever.
Her ebony eyes scorch me as they watch intently over my shoulder. Her hair tickles my cheeks and the scent of her shampoo drifts into my nostrils.
I can feel the curve of her breast pressed against my arm. I can feel her slender body spooned against mine. Even through the layers of fabric between us, I can feel her heat seeping into me.
"You're concentrating," I tell her.
"Well, I want you to feel good."
The answer takes me by surprise. Excitement erupts in my chest and tightens around my heart, causing it to skip a beat. My cock swells.
"Ha!" Jess exclaims in wonder. "It got thicker."
"It's got a mind of its own," I answer breathlessly.
Jess's hand suddenly starts moving faster. The pad of her thumb brushes over the moist tip of my cock. The ring rubs the skin just beneath that.
I suck in a deep breath and grip the edges of the pillow beneath my head.
Strange. I've been with several women-more experienced, skilled women-but none of them has ever reduced me to this state, especially not with just fingers.
Then Jess's fingers go still.
She sits up and moves on top of me. I lie on my back and she kneels between my legs.
"Getting bolder, are we?" I tease her as I lift myself on my elbows.
Jess doesn't answer, just stares at my cock for a few seconds. Then she lowers her head and her tongue brushes against the tip.
A shiver climbs up my spine. My jaw tightens.
"It tastes odd, but not bad," she says with creased eyebrows.
The tip of her tongue travels down the curved shaft.
I bite down on my lower lip to hold back a moan. It ends up resounding in my throat. My arms tremble and my elbows wobble.
Still, I keep watching her.
I can't tell what's more exciting-the sight of Jess savoring me like I'm an exquisite treat or the feel of her tongue on my sensitive skin.
Finally, she wraps her lips around my cock.
My hands curl into fists. I can feel my sanity slipping away as I get sucked little by little into that mouth.
Jess fails to take all of me inside her mouth, but what she manages is almost too much.
I quickly grab her shoulders and push her away. Then I push her down on the couch and lean over her. I stare right into those quivering black eyes.
"I think I'll take it from here."
I pull off her pajama pants and her panties and toss them aside. I claim her mouth as I slip a finger inside her.
She's wet. Even though she was the one giving me such pleasure, she must have been feeling it, too.
Jess wraps her arms around my back. I withdraw my finger and guide my cock slowly inside her. She moans into my mouth.
I break the kiss and grip her thighs as I start moving. Her hands clutch my shoulders. I feel her nails through my cotton shirt.
I grunt as I move faster. She moans and squeezes her eyes shut. Her body squeezes me as well. The sheath around my cock grows tighter and robs me of air I'm already short of.
Fuck. I'm not going to last long.
I pause to reach between us and play with her nub. I bend over to suck one of her breasts through the cotton of her pajama top.
Jess trembles. Her moans turn into cries. Her nails dig into my shoulder.
"Steff!"
As she comes undone, I put my hands behind her knees and move again. I go in faster, deeper, even as she trembles and tightens around me.
My hips rock. Heat swirls in my balls as they slap against her skin.
"Co... ming."
A series of grunts escapes my throat as I give a few more rapid thrusts. Then I bury myself deep inside her and fill her up before collapsing on top of her.
Jess's arms fall to her sides. Her heart beats wildly against mine as our heavy breathing fills the room.
"So," Jess speaks first. "We're even now?"
I nod. "I'd say we're more than even."
I pull myself up on my elbows and look at her.
Her cheeks, still rosy, glow under the yellow light of the lamp. Her eyes glimmer like a moonless sky dotted with stars.
"Then consider it an advance," Jess says with a grin. "After all, we're going to have to keep this act up until Sunday."
I smile. "Let's give them a good show."
~
"That was quite a show," Laura says at the family barbecue the next day. She's eating the grilled mushroom off the top of her vegetable kebab. "Not sure how I felt about it, though."
I look away from the grill to give her a puzzled look. "I'm sorry?"
"Oh, come on. You think you guys can fool me?"
I glance at Jess, who's standing beside me frozen in the act of biting a zucchini slice from her own kebab. Panic flickers in her eyes and flutters in my chest.
Have we been discovered?
"You guys might look innocent and all, but I know that shaking above me last night was no earthquake," Laura goes on to explain.
She gives me a wink. A blush creeps across my cheeks as I understand what she's saying.
I scratch the back of my head. "Oh, that."
"You felt it, too, didn't you, Keith?" Laura asks him.
Keith groans beside me as he flips a burger patty on the grill.
"Don't remind me."
Laura places a hand on her jaw and gives me a playful grin. "I guess the two of you really are engaged. Passionately engaged."
I ruefully return a sheepish grin of my own.
Well, at least we seem to have them convinced.
Unexpectedly, Jess, too, has a grin on her lips as she chews on her zucchini slice within the hollows of her burning cheeks.
I thought she'd be embarrassed, but she seems to be... amused?
"You're just jealous," she tells her sister.
Laura's jaw drops. Then she grins.
"My, my, Keith, did you just hear what our little sister said?" she asks Keith. "Sounds like someone's all grown up already."
Keith doesn't answer. He flips another burger patty. I flip the one in front of me.
"She said we're just jealous," Laura repeats.
"I heard," Keith says. "But I think she was just talking to you."
"Really?" Laura gives him a nudge. "When was the last time you had any?"
"None of your business. And please spare me yours." He glances at Jess. "Both of yours."
"Laura started it," Jess points out.
Laura places an arm around Jess and me.
"So tell me, who's the wilder one, hmm?" Laura asks in a low voice. "Also, want me to give you some tips?"
Jess shrugs off Laura's arm. "No thanks. And stop acting like you're single. You have two children, for God's sake."
"So?" Laura shrugs. "That just means I know a lot of stuff about-"
"We're leaving," Jess interrupts her as she grabs my arm.
She pulls me away from the grill and towards the swing
under the shade of an oak tree.
"Sorry," she says as she sits down. "I just couldn't stand it anymore."
There she goes, apologizing again.
I sit down beside her. "It's fine."
She sits back. "My family's really crazy, huh?"
"Maybe."
I look across the yard at Keith, who's still at the grill; Laura, who's now tending to her daughter; and Maggie and Don, who are eating their skewered vegetables on the front porch.
"You said you're the rebel and that they're disappointed in you, but I think they all care a great deal about you. You're lucky to have them."
I can't remember the last time my entire family had fun like this. We attend a lot of parties together, yes, but that's because we have to. I wouldn't really call them fun. I used to have picnics with my sisters when they were younger, but not recently.
Jess's hand falls to my lap. "Tell me more about your family. What's your father like?"
"Strict," I say the first word that comes to my mind. "Old-fashioned. Wise. Ruthless."
Jess wrinkles her eyebrows. "Okay. And your mother?"
"She supports him in everything, and she can be just as brave and just as frightening. But she's also kind and thoughtful."
"She sounds like a good mother," Jess says. "I bet she's beautiful, too."
"Well, they say I look more like her," I tell her. "The same hair. The same eyes."
Jess nods. "She must really be beautiful."
"My brother looks more like my father, but other than that, I don't think they have anything else in common. My sisters have mixed features."
"They're twins, right?"
I nod.
"They must adore you."
I say nothing. They must really be pissed that I left without saying goodbye to them.
"Don't you miss them?" Jess asks suddenly.
I turn to her in surprise. I smile.
"Yes," I admit. "But it was best for me to leave."
I really hope it turned out to be for the best.
"Sometimes, you have to make what seem like the wrong choices to-"
I stop as I hear the sound of glass shattering. Then Maggie screams.
I stand up and turn towards the front porch. Don is hanging limp in her arms.
Jess drops her kebab and rushes off.
"Daddy!"
Chapter 17
Jess
The squeak of rubber soles on the freshly mopped floor sets the beat for the hospital corridor. The smell of bleach reminds me of the days Mom took her woes out on the bathroom tiles. The chatter of the nurses around the corner provides the vocals. Every now and then, a chime sounds from above like a note from a keyboard. Then a different voice, a mechanical-sounding one, spills out of the speakers to give a fresh layer of dynamics to the piece. Every now and then, a wail cuts through like the screech of a guitar. The anxious tapping of my foot provides the percussion.
Beside me on the bench, Steff sits quietly, apparently relaxed. He sips his coffee as his other hand holds mine. My mother, sister and brother are all quiet, too, though they are by no means relaxed.
Mom looks pale. Her shaking hands clasp a string of prayer beads that someone gave to her. Laura is holding the napping Lucia tight. Keith is chewing on a piece of gum while his knee goes up and down to rock the bench.
We are all anxiously waiting for news about Dad's condition, hoping for the best and trying not to think of the worst even as it repeatedly knocks on our minds.
Finally, a man in a white coat appears in front of us. I'm the first to stand up and speak.
"Is my father alright?"
He pulls his glasses into place from the side. "You're Donald Campbell's daughter?"
"Yes."
"We're his family," Keith says.
"I'm Dr. Steve Partridge," he introduces himself as he offers his hand to Keith. "I'm afraid the patient has suffered a transient ischemic attack. In other words, it's a mild stroke."
A stroke?
I sink into the bench as my knees shake. Steff squeezes my hand.
"He's out of the woods now," Dr. Partridge goes on. "He is conscious, but he's still weak. Given his age, he will likely not be able to move around like he used to."
Laura gasps.
"He may have a hard time speaking as well."
I clasp a hand over my gaping mouth. My dad will be unable to run or to talk to me like he used to?
"Also, the chances of him having another stroke are high. And I'm afraid the second one is undoubtedly going to be worse."
He means the second one could be fatal.
"When?" Keith asks. "When is he likely to suffer another?"
"There's no telling." Dr. Partridge shakes his head. "Some patients have another within a week, some within a month, but for some it's not for five or ten years."
My eyes grow wide. A week? A month?
"I want to see him," Mom speaks up.
She's holding her shoulders up, but I can see them trembling.
Dr. Partridge nods. "You should be able to see him in a bit. I'll have the nurse inform you when you can. However, remember that he can't talk properly. Also, he needs a lot of rest, and I recommend not saying anything to make him worry or get upset or excited. We're monitoring his heart activity closely, and we'd like to keep it stable."
"Of course." Mom nods.
"Then if you'll excuse me..." Dr. Partridge walks off.
As soon as he's gone, Laura grabs Keith's arm and starts crying into his sleeve. Mom sinks back into a chair. Her eyes stare blankly at the wall across from her.
I touch her arm. "Mom?"
"I'm fine," she tells me in a shaky voice. "We have to be strong for your father. If he sees us worried, he'll worry, too."
I know. And I admire Mom for doing her best to be strong. She's always been strong. Still, I don't know if I can do it.
I stand up. "I'll just head to the restroom."
I walk down the corridor slowly. My feet feel heavy.
Somehow I manage to drag myself to the lobby and past the doors to the small garden facing the parking lot.
I sit down on the stool.
I know I said I was going to the restroom, but the truth is I just wanted to be alone and maybe get some fresh air. My chest feels wound up so tight I can barely breathe.
As I gaze up at the cloudy sky, I think of Dad.
I remember how he used to carry me on his shoulders when we went to watch parades. I remember how he taught me to ride a bike and bandaged my knee when I fell. I remember how we'd cook in the kitchen together when Mom wasn't around. I remember when he bought me my first guitar, how he applauded for me at my first recital, how he defended me against Mom after I said I wanted to be in a band more than anything.
Dad.
He was always on my side.
The doors behind me slide open and a man and a little girl come out. The little girl has her arm in a sling but has a smile on her face. It must be because her father is smiling, too.
Tears spill out of my eyes.
Dad has always been there for me, and I thought that was the way things would always be. But I was wrong. Dad isn't as young or as healthy as he used to be, and now there's a chance I may lose him soon.
My fingers tighten around the edge of the stool as my shoulders tremble.
This is so unfair. I'm not ready to lose my dad.
I lift my eyes to the sky once more. Tears blur my vision and one of them rolls down my neck.
I know I haven't been the best daughter, but please, please don't take him away.
I sit there until my tears stop falling, until my shoulders stop trembling. Then I go to the restroom and wash my face. The water feels cool against my skin.
When I return to the bench, only Steff is still sitting there. He holds a crumpled coffee cup in his hand.
"There you are," he says when our eyes meet.
"Where did they go?" I ask him.
"To your father's room. Do you want to go?"
>
I nod. I'm ready to see him now. I feel a little stronger now after crying. At the very least, I'm not on the brink of tears.
To my surprise, Steff wraps his arms around me.
"It's okay," he whispers. "I'm here."
I nod. I know. And I'm glad he's here. His mere presence gives me an added ounce of strength, that extra ounce that keeps me standing.
He holds my hand and leads me down the corridor.
I follow him quietly, slowly.
Finally, he stops in front of a door and steps aside. I draw a deep breath and knock before opening the door.
Keith and Laura turn their heads towards me. Sitting by the bed, Mom keeps talking to Dad.
"How many times have I told you that you should take better care of yourself?" she scolds him. "But you never listen, do you?"
He smiles at her weakly.
Mom sighs.
Dad's eyes meet mine.
"Jess," he says my name.
It sounds more like 'Jesh', and just that tiny detail tugs at my heart. Still, I force a smile as I step forward.
"How are you feeling, Dad?"
He gives me a shaky thumbs-up sign, but I can tell he's weaker now. It seems as if he's aged years in just a few hours.
I swallow. "I'm glad. And I know you'll be fine. You probably just got too happy that Keith and I are home."
"Or that you got engaged," Laura says.
My eyes grow wide. "But-"
"Lau...ra," my father interrupts.
"Sorry," Laura mumbles.
Dad glances past me at Steff. Then he turns to Mom.
"Could leave us... alone?"
I look at my dad with wide eyes.
Mom nods. "I should go home and get some of your stuff. Dr. Partridge said you'll be here for around four days."
"I need to change Lucia's diaper and get back to Raffy," Laura says. "But I'll come back later, Dad."
"I'll be just outside," Keith says.
He squeezes my shoulder and puts his hand on Steff's to usher him out of the room. But Dad struggles to lift his hand. His eyes let out a plea.
"Sht..."
I glance at Steff. "I think he wants you to stay, Steff."
Steff nods and turns around. Keith walks out the door and closes it.
I occupy the stool that Mom vacated.
"I'm here, Dad. Is there something you wanted to tell me?"
He reaches for my hand.
I take his.