The streets are busy, and I learned quickly that you don't walk slow or stop suddenly around New York. You'll get trampled on. There have been a few times that Saxton had to pull me along, because I would get sidetracked by the amazing city that surrounds us. I won't lie; it's a little scary at times, being in a foreign place, but man, it's so cool. Buildings line the streets and go on for miles. I'm almost positive we won't be able to cover everything in this short trip, but I want to try to fit in everything I possibly can.
"What are you thinking about?" I glance at Saxton as we follow closely behind Tynleigh down the sidewalk. I'm not sure where we're going, and I don't really care. I am kind of digging the element of surprise. Walking into the Subway station was definitely not at all how I imagined it to be, but much bigger.
"Just how amazing this all is. You were really holding out on me."
"Nah, it just wasn't as cool the times I was here by myself. It's much better experiencing it with you."
A corner diner comes into view. It looks old, versus modern like the buildings full of glass that surround it. Even the neon sign that reads, Diner, is only partially lit up. It has character, and I love that in a place that looks so corporate.
Saxton grabs the door and opens it, allowing both of us to enter first. I smile at him as he places his palm at the small of my back. "Such a gentleman."
"My mom knows everything, even when she's not around to see it. She would skin my hide if I walked in before a woman in seriousness." He pauses as we make our way to a booth. "And I agree with ninety-five percent of what I was taught."
"Geez, that's a high percentage. I'm like the opposite. I only agree with about five percent. That makes me curious. What is in the small percentage that you don't?"
Tynleigh sits down on one side of the booth and I take the other side, scooting toward the window to make room. Saxton follows. "Well, they're a little more traditional in some things, like being married before you co-habitat with a member of the opposite sex."
He reaches over me for the stack of menus at the back of the booth, handing me one. I glance at Tynleigh reading her menu in silence with a smile etched on her face, before giving my attention back to the sexy guy sitting beside me. "And you don't agree?"
"I never went against it, and I respect their view on the matter, but over time I have learned that you can find out a lot about a person if you live with them first. I wouldn't condone jumping from person to person, but I think if you're serious enough about someone then you should go all in with semi-permanent arrangements before you end up stuck in something that isn't so easy or graceful to get out of."
In my brief lapse of speech the waitress walks up to the table, introducing herself and taking our drink order; a quick and painless encounter and she's gone. "You never went against it? But what about—"
"Nope," he says, cutting me off as he places his arm around me on the back of the booth. "We never lived together. I had roommates and so did she. Stay-overs happened, sometimes more often than others, but more times than not when it was time to sleep we ended up separately, which was why it was so easy for her to end up in everyone else's bed I imagine."
"Then why are you so quick to want that with me?"
His eyes divert across the table, assuming at his sister. The left corner of his mouth pulls up. "Well, originally I just walked into it with no expectations, and now that I’ve had that with you living separate lives isn't an option for me. There will be times our age difference will cause some problems, but I'll just grow with you." He kisses the side of my mouth, lowering his voice. "Because one day, when I know you won't regret it at your age, I'm going to ask you to marry me, and that's a promise. That's the exact reason I'd go against what my parents believe is right. We might as well start now and make sure we can put up with each other's faults."
My heart doesn't care about age, though, is what I want to scream out. We could date for ten years and I'd still know he's the one, but voicing some of those things might spark a sign of insanity or immaturity on my part, because I shouldn't be in a rush with my whole life ahead of me.
It's definitely hard, holding back when you find the person that makes you want to live with absolutely no restrictions. Everything between us has been fast paced, just like this city, but I love it. Maybe speed is our thing. "Wait, does this mean your parents are going to hate me?"
The waitress sets down a large glass of orange juice before me at the same time she also brings theirs. I grab the straw she tossed down and open it, before shoving it into my glass and sucking down some of the pulp free goodness. It's been a while since I've had orange juice. "Do the three of you need any more time or are you ready to order?"
Panic sets in. I haven't even looked at the menu. Tynleigh looks at me. "Go ahead. It won't take me but a second."
I quickly scan the menu as she takes their order. When no sound registers, I know they are waiting on me. "Western omelet," I say, reading off the first thing that stands out. By the time I put up my menu she's already gone again, leaving us alone.
"They'll love you," he says.
"Mom may be a little opinionated about the matter, but she's not the judgmental kind. Dad will keep his thoughts to himself. He's not much of a talker until he has to be." I glance across the table. "They would never assume it was your idea anyway, even if it was."
She looks between us, stealing a sip of her water between sentences. "Saxton has gone against the grain of their version of appropriate behavior for a while. You don't have to worry, though. They are traditional on some things, but not overbearing. They don't force, just teach. When are you taking her to meet them, Saxton? Can you call Mom while you're here and put her on speaker so I can witness her reaction when you tell her you have a girlfriend? Oh," she blurts out. "You can just introduce her over FaceTime. Then I can see it. That's even better."
I sneak a peek at Saxton at the word FaceTime. I'll never think of that the same way again. He smiles at me, obviously having the same thought. "Why? Should I be worried?"
"No," he says. "T just likes to think she'll react differently than she actually will. It's not that big of a deal."
"You are full of crap. You almost had her in tears last time because she kept asking when you were going to settle down and meet a nice girl. What was it you said again? Oh, right, it was: the chances of me announcing I'm homosexual are greater than the chances of me dating a female again, let alone settling down. You broke her damn heart."
I smack the top of his arm, like I do often. Not hard enough to classify as abuse, but enough to get his attention. "Ow. What?"
"That's a risqué thing to say coming from someone that is funny about things close to his hind quarters."
"It was to make a point. I was saying it wasn't going to happen."
"Why would you say that to your mom?"
"Because she wouldn't leave me alone. T is older than me and she bugs her half as much as me. I wanted peace. It worked too, because she hasn't asked me since."
"Sprout, she asks me every time she calls, which is about twice a week. I just find an answer to appease her, so yes, this is a massive drama fest about to go down, and I'm getting front row seats. I may even indulge in popcorn with movie theatre butter. It could even shock her so much that you actually found a decent girl versus what you could have picked up, like a stray, that you can just slip the, and we're moving in together, thing right in there."
"That should actually be good news compared to what she's used to."
I catch a glance of the waitress about to head our way. "Hey, Sax, can you let me out? I'm going to wash my hands."
He slides out of the booth, letting me out. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just feel slightly less clean after the subway."
He laughs and kisses my temple. "Okay, baby. Hurry back."
Meeting parents is definitely a conversation or venture I'm not quite ready for. I just got away from parents, so I’m not in a rush. What if they hate me, or think I'm not good
enough for him? I'm being stupid, but I want them to like me . . .
Saxton
Tynleigh glances around me. "So . . . I have a secret. How much is it worth to you?"
"Depends. What do you want?"
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I fish it out, waiting for her answer. A text message from a number I don't recognize shows across the screen. "I want you to suck it up and go to Coney Island with me."
"You know I hate lines. Furthermore, you know how I feel about amusement parks and rides. It's just not my thing. I can pay to stand around somewhere more fun, like a sporting event."
I open the message, instantly recognizing the hostile person on the other end.
Unknown: I better get a massive best friend call about your epic birthday gift since you so rudely took her away during her birthday. This is normally our thing.
Me: Well hello, Meredith. Exactly what day are you speaking of? Don't you dare pull my dick right now.
Unknown: You better be fucking with me, Saxton. If you don't know when her birthday is after knowing your way around her entire heart, mind, body, and soul, I may very well come through this phone and beat you to death.
The sound of plates being set on the table draws my attention. I put my phone up. The waitress leaves no lag time; quickly ensuring we need nothing else and then leaving to tend to another booth inside of this busy and worn diner.
"Well," Tynleigh says. "Are we going to discuss this or are you going to be glued to your phone the one week I get to see you?"
I look up. "What kind of secret? On a scale from one to ten, how important, ten being if you keep it from me it could possibly ruin my life."
"Definitely a ten." She grins. "Feeling Coney Island yet? I bet Kambry would love to go . . . "
She's dangling shit in front of me. She’s asked me to take her every time I come to visit and I always say no. I've never been a fan of theme parks. It could have something to do with me getting deathly sick at one when I was a kid. They’re scary as hell.
I place my elbows on the table. "Dammit, Tynleigh, fine. If I get sick you're in for it, and does this have anything to do with Kambry's birthday?"
"So you know when it is?"
"Well, not exactly."
"Do I even want to know why you don't know her birthday, yet you said she's the girl you intend to marry? Isn't that kind of backwards? I thought most normal people established elementary questions on the first date."
"Our first date wasn't really a date. I'm working on changing that. Nothing about our relationship has been orthodox. Oddly, birthdays never seemed to come up. Just tell me before she gets back."
"Fine. It's Friday. You didn't hear it from me, because she asked me not to say anything while you were here."
"Why? A person's birthday only comes once a year."
"From what I gathered she's a very humble person and you bringing her here is more than enough."
"That's stupid. This wasn't a gift. This was taking a step forward like normal couples. I wanted her to meet you. This is where you live."
"At least you know she isn't after your money," she says in a low tone, and then clears her throat. "Food is here. Hungry?"
I glance behind me at Kambry stopped at the edge of the booth, waiting on me to let her in. "What'd I miss?"
She scoots in when I move out of her way. "Tynleigh trying to talk me into Coney Island this week."
The excitement on her face makes me feel like an ass for even considering saying no. "Are you serious? Oh my gosh! I've heard of the famous spinning teacups."
I fold my arms and rest on my forearms on top of the table. "So you want to go?"
"Is this a trick question? Of course I want to go!"
A sudden feeling hits me in the gut. "Kambry, have you ever been to an amusement park? A county fair? Anything?"
She shakes her head. "Okay, baby, we'll go." I grab her hand under the table and squeeze, digging into my food with the opposite. "Eat up. It looks like we have one busy week."
I have my work cut out for me, because moments like these . . . break my fucking heart. I never want her to go without experiences again. It'll just be up to me to give them to her.
Chapter Five
Kambry
As we walk along the sidewalk, a sign reminds me of something Tynleigh said we could do. Nails—labels the top of the building just ahead of us, directly above the glass door. "Hey, Tynleigh, didn't you say you wanted to do pedicures?"
She turns toward me, following my head nod to the building that caught my attention. "Oh, that's right." She winks. "Come on, sprout. I bet those man feet of yours need to be groomed."
"Hell no. I have something I need to do anyway. You two go ahead and I'll catch up with you when you’re done."
I pull on his arm as he tries to walk past the nail salon. He stops and glances at me. "What's wrong?"
"I wanted you to be a part of it. If not, we can do something else."
"It's fine, baby. Just go do your girl thing. I can wander aimlessly for an hour."
He gives me a smile, no doubt trying to reassure me it's nothing, but to me, it's something. This is our week, and while I don't mind us being apart from time to time, it doesn't mean I like those times. "I just wanted us to do . . . like . . . couple things. We had feetsy time back at the house. Why is this different?"
"I'm going to go put our names on the list," Tynleigh says, walking through the door to leave us alone. My eyes never leave Saxton. Instead, I just scoot off to the side outside of walking traffic.
"I play with your feet and we are in private. No one watches me rubbing your feet, painting your toenails, and sucking on your toes. That's our thing. Mine are not part of the equation."
I'm going to be that girl . . . and I don't give a damn who judges me. My bottom lip turns down, my eyelids fall, and I remember all of those drama lessons. Puppy face at its best in three, two, one . . .
His hands grab my face, tilting it up to look at him. "Do you really want me to go in there that bad? I was raised on a farm. If my dad ever found out I got a pedicure I’d never hear the end of it. He would shamelessly make fun of me."
"I just wanted to spend time with you," I say in the most pitiful voice I can conjure. "While it's just the two of us. You know . . . with no one watching. Is that a bad thing?"
"Dammit to hell. You know if I go in there you're stealing my manhood: full on castration. My dick will not be worthy of pussy anymore. Do you really want to take that from me? Men are supposed to be rough and tough, not soft and pampered."
"Don't be dramatic. You're with two attractive females. No one will think anything."
"I don't want a guy touching my feet. Period. I really don't like my feet being touched at all."
"Says the guy with a foot fetish . . . "
"Judge me if you must. It doesn't change things. You'll have more fun without me bitching the entire time and causing a scene."
"I'll let you fuck me in the ass."
Silence.
My eyes slowly creep down his body, stopping on his groin area. The faintest outline of a snake resides there, trying to make itself known. His hands drop from my face and immediately travel to his pockets. This is one of those moments, where as a woman, I want to hold my imaginary gun to my mouth and blow the smoke from the barrel, because this job is done. Nailed it. Being a woman comes with some pretty awesome super powers when you learn how to use them. He looks at me with so much heat in his stare that I have to work really hard to keep my lips from turning up into a smile. Oh yeah . . . He wants me. Suddenly, I feel parched.
He leans in toward me, his lips inching just outside of my ear. "I think you just decided on our first Tumblr post, baby. Wet for wet, you can suck my dick just before I go in."
I shiver as the tip of his tongue swipes along my ear. "Remember last time . . . Don't make offers you can't uphold."
"Have I yet?" My eyes close as the words escape on a whisper.
"No, and that's why you hav
e my balls in your hand. Let's do this."
He stands upright and opens the door, again letting me enter first. "Love you," I say in a singsong voice, as if nothing abnormal just happened.
"Love you too, baby. Always will."
And then he smacks my ass as I walk in, catching me off guard, in true Saxton style. My man . . .
Saxton
I glance up at the sky as I hold the door open. "Dear God, help my soul. That girl is going to be the death of me."
I enter, dropping my head in shame that I'm walking into a nail salon. Porn star to pretty boy. I'm shaming all masculine men across the world. If my dad knew I was about to soak my feet in feminine, smelly water, he'd probably bury my face in cow shit just to kick my ass and remind me that I was born a man. I'm going against the grain of nature . . . all because I can't stand the thought of upsetting her. There should be classes for this: lessons on how to fight pussy-whipped-itis. Yes, I've diagnosed myself.
"Sprout, over here."
I look up at the sound of the familiar voice I've heard over the last twenty-five years, my hands back in my pockets, and working hard not to make eye contact with anyone else in this damn building. Fucking embarrassed, that's what I am. Kambry is placing her purse on the floor beside the middle chair, next to Tynleigh. There is a vacant chair on her other side with a male sitting on a stool in front of it, adding various shit that looks like sea salt as the water runs. I begin to sweat. Kambry nods me over from where I've obviously stopped not far inside the door, as if my subconscious is preparing me to make a run for it without informing my brain.
I finally begin to move, each step becoming slower than the first as I near the area of doom. I take a step onto the platform that acts as a housing unit for the lengthy row of pedicure chairs and just as I do Kambry pulls me toward her chair, and then pushes me into a sitting position beside Tynleigh. Before I can even think her lips connect with mine, just before her tongue enters my mouth, relaxing me . . . and turning me on at the same time. It's heated, but brief.
Sex Sessions: After The Cut (Camera Tales #2) Page 5