“I thought that, that you didn’t—”
“Shhh…” She silenced him with both her words and her mouth. Gradually, the kisses grew longer, more intimate. He slid his hand down her back, feeling her spine under the thin T-shirt. She grabbed his chest hard with her fingers, kneading the muscle and flesh like a playful cat. Her other hand dropped down below his waist, making her intentions crystal clear.
Steve slid his hand over her cheek, thumb brushing lightly across her soft lips. She opened her mouth, licking and sucking the digit as she added her other hand to her task. He gasped as her efforts raised him to readiness, even as her teeth lightly bit his thumb.
His other hand wormed its way under the shirt, groping for her breast. When he found it, he was surprised by the feeling of smooth metal. He gently explored her nipple piercing, which caused her to smile softly at him.
“Surprise,” she said in a low voice. Steve was unable to respond, caught in a moment of ecstasy as her hands slid over his skin, twisting and rubbing his erection expertly.
Autumn let go with one hand and lifted her hips into the air. She gasped, almost as if in pain, as she slid down atop him. Their eyes locked in a moment of primal connection, no words necessary to express the unity they felt as their bodies intertwined.
Autumn closed her eyes, gyrating as tiny cries escaped her lips. He ran his hands over her breasts, gently squeezing the almost impossibly soft flesh. With a sudden half-lidded grin she pulled the shirt off and flung it on the floor. Their bodies arched in unison, and his own moans of ecstasy mingled with hers. Leaning back and bracing her hands on his knees, he could just make out her eyes behind the mounds of her breasts, her eyelashes fluttering like a butterfly’s wings.
Later, they lay exhausted in each other’s arms, damp with sweat. The alarm on Steve’s phone went off, eliciting a groan from both of them.
“There’s nothing more horrible than a Monday morning after a great weekend,” he said groggily.
She rolled away from him and lay on her side, giving him a pursed lipped glare.
“What?” he asked.
“Now you’re gonna think you’re my boyfriend.”
He chuckled, running a finger gently through her bangs. “You’ll never hear it from my lips.”
“Good,” she said, smiling sleepily.
“I’ve got to get in the shower.”
“I know.”
“That was incredible.”
“It was pretty good.”
“You could join me in the shower,” he said, blue eyes shining.
She grinned wryly at him. “You and I both know that if I join you in the shower, you’re gonna be late for work.”
“I see how you are. Separate showers means my water bill is going up.”
“Well,” she said, lifting her nude form out of bed and taking him by the hand. “If it’s for the environment, I guess I have no choice.”
She led him into the shower and closed the door.
Chapter 7
“YOU LOOK TIRED, Mr. Steve,” said Darrien. The boy was sitting on his lap, craning his neck to peer at the dark circles under his teacher’s eyes.
“I am.” Steve yawned hugely. Despite his weariness, he found the day seeming to fly by. It was nearly lunchtime already, and he idly watched the children roam around the room.
“How come?” asked Darrien. “Couldn’t you sleep? My mom makes me warm milk when I can’t sleep.”
“Just…I’ll explain when you turn eighteen, okay?”
“That’s a long time, isn’t it?”
“Not really,” said Steve, gently pushing the child off his lap. “Why, according to the geologic record, that’s barely a sneeze.”
“The gee oh rocky record? Who are they? Do they play that song with all the whistling in it?”
Steve did not answer, but did give the child’s tow head a gentle pat. He rose to his feet and barked orders to clean up the room. The children, seeming to pick up on his renewed energy and drive, obeyed far more readily than normal.
After his children had returned from lunch and been laid down for nap, Steve took out his phone and checked it. He silently cheered Phil’s message pertaining to his imminent date. He rolled his eyes at an enthusiastic diatribe from Rex about Crawley’s musical prowess. He ignored a message from his father, instead opening up his contacts list and sending a text to Autumn:
What’s up? -S
He set the device down and picked up half a turkey sandwich, noisily masticating. A minute later his phone screen flashed. He checked the reply and couldn’t suppress a laugh.
A direction. -A
Will you be able to come over later? -S
A moment later, the response came.
Can’t. Sorry. Promised roomie I’d help edit her term paper. -A
Okay. I’ll call you 2 morrow, then. -S
You can call me tonight. –A
A moment later another message followed it.
This will keep you company :) -A
There was a photo attached, and he opened it.
“Jesus Christ, woman,” he said in amazement. The photo was a selfie, apparently taken in a bathroom mirror. Autumn had her shirt pulled up and her bra pulled down, the fingers of her free hand idly playing with her nipple piercing. A wide, goofy grin on his face, he typed out another message.
Great. Now I have a boner around a bunch of children and look like a molester. -S
A second later he sent another text:
You’re really beautiful :) Thanks for the pic. -S
A moment later the screen again flashed, and he eagerly read her reply:
If that pic ends up on the Internet, I’m going to cut off your balls and mail them to a fertility clinic. -A
I’m not into sharing. -S
Good. Neither am I. -A
“What’s up, nerd?” said Rich, slapping Phil hard on the back. “Did you nail that little hottie last night, or what?”
Phil’s shoulders grew tense, his face a mask of annoyance. Rich had already violated his personal space by entering the cubicle. To make things worse, his old school mate was speaking loudly about a matter Phil considered to be quite personal.
“Will you shut up? She’s not that kind of girl.”
“What other kind is there?”
“You’re hopeless.” Phil tried to return to his spreadsheets, but of course Rich kept talking.
“So says the virgin to the man who got nookie last night, and this morning.”
“Yeah, well, not everyone is impressed with that.”
“I’m impressed by it.”
“I’m tired, and hung over, and I really need to send this report, so if you could come back and pick on me some other time, that would be great.”
“Okay,” said Rich, turning to leave, “but women gots needs, same as we do. Don’t make her wait too long before you slip her the salami.”
Phil held his face in his hands, pushing his spectacles up on his forehead first. He cast his sleepy eyes at the ceiling and muttered a question about what he’d ever done in a previous life to warrant such a miserable tagalong.
Stoically, he steeled himself and finished the report. He had long ago designed his own macro keys, far more efficient than the ones pre-installed on his work computer. It did not take him long to send it off to the home office, and he found himself with a spare few minutes.
“Oh, what the hell.” He brought up the web browser on his desktop and went to his Facebook account. Clicking on Crawley’s name, he brought up her page. A wide grin spread on his face when he read her status update.
Had a blast last night! I joined a band and got asked out by a really cute guy! I can’t wait until Friday!
He clicked the “like” button on her comment, considering adding a response but deciding against it. He took out his phone and wondered about the three-day rule.
“Better not.” He stuffed it back in his shirt pocket. “I’d probably just screw things up.”
He checked
his messages, and found that Steve had responded to his earlier text.
As Shakespeare said,
‘I had the sweeter rest last night’ :) -S
Phil flinched, mouth going slack.
That was fast. -P
Phil put the phone on his desk, surprised when there was a quick response. “Oh, right,” he muttered. “Kids are taking a nap this time of day.”
He checked the message, grinning at its content.
Just kind of happened.
She still says we’re not dating, though. -S
Just go with it and try not to ruin everything
by being you. -P
Asshole :) -S
Phil chuckled and stowed the phone in his shirt pocket. He grabbed his coffee mug, a sleek silver design with his initials monogrammed in red ink. His mood soured as the cold, coffee-ground-infested liquid entered his mouth. Pouring the scant remains into his waste basket, he rose to his feet. He tucked his shirt into his pants and pulled it straight, smoothing out a stray wrinkle on his sleeve. Steve may have been off work, but Phil still had a bit more to do.
Steve trotted down the short flight of chipped concrete stairs, one hand on the cold metal railing while the other gripped his phone. Because he was staring at the device, he nearly walked into his father’s blue Cadillac, which was parked right outside the staff entrance.
“Steve!” said Deathslayer at the last moment.
Steve glanced up, startled, then relaxed when he saw who it was. “Hey, Pop!” He leaned low to peer in the open passenger window. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d give you a ride, maybe buy you dinner.”
“Uh, I’m supposed to stop by and see someone…”
His father’s blue eyes darkened. “You can’t blow off one of your stupid friends to spend time with—” he began, then cut himself short. “Wait, is this that new girl you’ve been seeing?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m seeing her yet, but close enough, I guess.”
His father’s face split in a grin, contrasting sharply with his black facial hair. “Never mind. I’m the Deathslayer, not the Cockblocker!”
“No,” said Steve, shaking his head, “it won’t take long. She’s at work. I was just gonna go through the line, buy a coffee, maybe chat for a minute.”
“I’ll give you a ride, then we can go grab a bite. How’s that sound? I’ll stay in the car and everything.”
Steve got a calculating gleam in his eyes as he got into the Caddy. Then he chuckled. “No, I think it might be cool if you went with me.”
“Really? I really don’t want to—”
“She’s a huuuuge wrestling fan, Pop. She’ll get a kick out of it, trust me!”
“Oh, so in a way, I’ll be kind of like you guys’ cupid.”
“Maybe that can be your new gimmick. You can come out in pink tights, with a little pink bow and arrow…”
Deathslayer laughed, his guffaws filling the car. “You’re a lot like your mother,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “A smart ass! And Susie, well, she’s a lot like me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you both the same.”
Steve shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I know, Pop. Forget what I said the other day. I was just…I don’t know.”
Deathslayer pursed his lips, deep thoughts churning behind his eyes. When he spoke his voice was soft, almost a whisper. “I know I wasn’t always there when you needed me,” he said, drawing a sudden glance from Steve, “but I’d like to be there for you now. If you ever want to talk, I always got my cell on me. As long as I’m not in the ring or on camera, you know I’ll answer it.”
Steve wanted to say something, felt as if he should, but his mind was blank. It had been a long time since his father had been so overtly affectionate with him. He was unable to formulate a response before the Cadillac rolled up in front of the Crafty Colombian. The closest parking spot was halfway down the block.
“Why don’t you get out here and I’ll park?” asked Deathslayer. “She’ll totally freak out if I just walk in all of a sudden.”
“Always the showman. Yeah, she’s a pain in the ass, she deserves to get messed with.”
“A pain in the ass? That’s the best kind of woman. Keeps things interesting.”
Steve laughed, shook his head helplessly, and closed the car door. He turned toward the café, pushing open the glass door with his palm. Autumn was on the phone when he entered. She was busily restocking condiments on the customer side of the counter with her free hand. She did not notice his approach, so he waited patiently for her to finish.
“Prednisone? No way,” she said into the device. There was a pause as the caller responded. “Because it makes you swell up like a blow fish, it wrecks your liver, and—yeah, thanks for the concern, Mom.”
Steve’s blue eyes narrowed, but he tried not to eavesdrop further. Autumn’s eyes flicked up to see his, and then she spoke quickly into the phone. “I have a customer, Sal. Talk at you later, okay?”
Autumn hung up the phone and smiled at Steve. She was wearing the same clothes she’d worn the night before, though she had pulled her hair back into a tight bun at the back of her head. Her brown eyes seemed tired, her skin a bit paler than usual. Still, she smiled widely at him.
“Hey, I’m still working, and I’ve got to help my roo—”
“Relax. I’m just going to get a coffee, say hey, and then I’ll be out of here.”
“Okay,” she said, adopting an officious sounding voice. “What will you have, sir?”
“I’ll have coffee. Large Colombian dark, with one sugar and one cream.”
“Still a pussy drink.” She poured the coffee. “Less of a pussy, but still a pussy.”
“Here.” He handed her a five.
“Nah, it’s gratis.”
“I thought you said it was coffee?” he said, peering into the cup. “Are you trying to slip me something so you can take advantage of me?”
“You don’t need to drug guys to take advantage of them. You’re all such horny, horny bastards.”
“And the pic you sent has kept me like that all day.”
She rolled her eyes and sighed. “I knew that was a mistake as soon as I sent it.”
“I can delete it, if you want,” said Steve, bringing up his phone.
“It’s your pic. Do with it what you want…just be aware of the consequences.”
She brandished a pair of shiny scissors, snapping them shut in his face.
He laughed, holding up his hands in mock defense. He heard the door ding behind him, saw Autumn’s eyes go wide.
“No. Freakin. Way.”
The Deathslayer strode into the small café. He smiled pleasantly and came up to the counter. “Nice to meet you. I’m Bill, Steve’s father.” He offered her his hand for a shake.
Autumn took it, her slim hand disappearing in his massive paw. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first. Then, she said in a rush, “You are a god!”
Steve and his father both had a good laugh at that. He fixed Autumn with a smarmy smirk.
“You’re a mark.”
“I am not!” she said. “What’s a mark?”
“Someone who believes pro wrestling is real,” said Steve.
“Pro wrestling is real,” said the big man. “People are what’s fake.”
“I didn’t mean it that way, Pop.”
“Oh my god,” said Autumn. “I have to get a picture.”
She came out from behind the counter, handing her phone to Steve. “You wanna take our pic?”
“Okay.”
She stood next to his father, putting an arm around his waist. He put his arm around her shoulder and smiled. The camera clicked and Steve checked the screen.
“Turned out good,” he said, handing her back the device.
“My turn,” said his father, taking out his own smart phone. “You two stand together.”
“Why do you want my picture?” Autumn asked.
“It’s
normal for a man to want a picture of his son and his girlfriend.”
Steve sucked in a sharp intake of breath, looking sheepishly at Autumn. “Actually, Pop, she’s—”
“Well, that’s understandable,” said Autumn, putting an arm around Steve’s broad shoulders and pulling him in close.
“C’mon, Steve, quit looking at her and look at me! Now smile!”
The camera clicked, and Steve blew out a sigh of relief. “Are we done?”
“Not quite. Let me get one of you two kissing.”
“Pop!” said Steve, his eyes going wide.
“Sure,” said Autumn, putting her hand on his cheek and turning it toward her. She stood up on her tiptoes to reach his mouth with hers.
Deathslayer grinned at the photo; Autumn had her eyes closed, while Steve stared down at her in disbelief.
“It’s perfect! Well, we should probably let her get back to work. It’s only a matter of time till a fan comes in and recognizes me, anyway.”
“Yeah,” said Steve, still feeling discombobulated.
“Call me,” said Autumn, adding a peck on his cheek.
They left the café, Steve giving her one last smile.
Chapter 8
PHIL’S EYES were already open, staring at his bedroom ceiling, when his alarm went off. Reaching over with one hand, he flicked the off button and sat up, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. Slumber had eluded him much of the night. Most of the week had gone by quickly, the anticipation of his date with Crawley making him feel giddy and exited. Up until his head had hit the pillow on Thursday night, when all of the things that could go wrong danced through his head.
He stripped for the shower, examining himself in the mirror. The image reflected did not increase his confidence. At that moment, he really wished he had Rich’s handsome features, or Steve’s muscular torso and arms.
The pulsating stream of water felt good on his back and neck. He turned to face the spray, closing his eyes and watching the tiny flashes of light as the droplets spattered against his eyelids. Once he had washed the shampoo out of his hair, he used his wet/dry electric razor to trim his sideburns and touch up his shave. He usually only had to shave once every other day, unlike that caveman Steve, who seemed to sprout stubble almost as soon as his razor was set down.
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