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MILF: Wrong Kind of Love

Page 9

by Erin Noelle


  The night after I first rubbed Mia’s shoulders, I pressed my luck and went back downstairs, and was more than pleased to find her on the stool yet again. That time when I approached, she didn’t flinch as I brought my hands to her neck; instead, it was as if she welcomed my touch.

  We’d held a comfortable conversation, mainly about how she loved art as a young girl and how both she and Stella inherited their creativity from their mom. She’d told me about the guy from the gallery coming Sunday afternoon, and at the time, I was happy for her, even a little proud, but that was until I saw the guy looked like he walked straight out of a Giorgio Armani ad. He was supposed to be an old, overweight, bald guy with thick bifocals…at least, that’s how I pictured him.

  Now, as I stand here under the hot spray of the shower, washing off the sweat and grime from the pick-up basketball games Adam and I’d been playing all afternoon, I try to settle my irritation with whatever just happened downstairs, but I only end up getting more frustrated.

  Adam raps on the bathroom door and yells out. “Hey, man, I’m about to leave. I’ll text you later.”

  “Okay, good luck,” I shout back as I turn off the water and step out of the tub.

  At some point between the time I get out of the shower and when I throw a pair of lounge pants on, I decide I’m in no mood to go hang out with Jess tonight. I know she’s going to bitch because I haven’t seen her all weekend, but I really don’t fucking care. Whatever we used to have simply isn’t there anymore, and I know if she’s being honest with herself, she’ll realize it too. I’m not going to break off a two year relationship with her over the phone, but with the mood I’m in, it’s probably best I don’t have that talk with her tonight, though it definitely needs to be done the next time I see her.

  Me: Hey, Jess. I’m tired and not feeling like doing much of anything tonight. We’ll get together one night this week.

  Not thirty seconds after I send the text, my phone rings and her picture—the one she programmed into her contact info—appears on the screen. I’m really not in the mood for this.

  “Hey, Jess,” I answer, sounding perturbed on purpose, because…well…I’m pretty perturbed.

  “What do you mean you’re not coming over?” she shrieks without even a hello. “I haven’t seen you in four days. All weekend, I’ve been waiting to do something with you, and this is the third time in two days you’ve backed out at the last minute. What the fuck is going on, Gray?”

  I sigh loudly as I fall backward onto the mattress. “Nothing is going on, Jess. I’m just tired. I want to watch some TV and go to bed. I don’t feel like going out anywhere.”

  “We can do that here. I have to get up early for work tomorrow anyway. I just want to see you,” she argues. I can almost envision her stomping around like a pouting child, which I find more annoying than adorable.

  “I’m not going to argue with you. I’m not coming over,” I state with finality. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Are you going with Adam to get a tattoo again? Amber and I can go with y’all. We’ve been talking about getting one.” Her voice changes; she’s realized the whiny brat angle isn’t working, so she’s trying for the perfect ‘anything you want to do’ girlfriend act.

  “No, Adam is on a date, and I’m not leaving the house, especially not to get a damn tattoo,” I snap crossly. “I’m hanging up now. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Then, I do exactly as I promise. I hang up the phone and toss it on the other side of the bed with an exasperated exhale. It only takes me a few seconds to realize she commented about Adam’s tattoo he just got on Friday, which I’m pretty sure I haven’t mentioned to her, but I can’t remember for sure. Rolling onto my back, I stare at the spinning ceiling fan and dismiss the passing thought. I probably said something about it and forgot I did.

  I really don’t care anyway.

  Nearly three hours later, I hear the car pull into the driveway, and I’m torn on whether or not I want to peek outside or not. Part of me knows better than to spy on people—most of the time, you’re going to see something you wish you hadn’t—but curiosity wins out when I hear both car doors shut. I pray she doesn’t invite him inside.

  I watch them from behind the curtain in my room, full-on creeper-style, as they shuffle up the front walkway. She’s laughing about something he said, and although she’s not leaning into his body or seeking contact from him, his hand is once again on the small of her back. When they reach the front door, I no longer have a clear view of them, but by the positioning of their feet, I can tell they’re facing one another.

  A few seconds pass and nothing happens. My stomach turns enviously at the thought of him kissing her. Do I stay up here, or go downstairs to completely cock-block in case he does come in?

  I’m out the door and thundering down the steps without a second thought, not even bothering to throw a shirt on with my pajama pants. As soon as my feet hit the bottom landing, the knob on the front door begins to turn and the door slowly opens, giving me a clear view of the two people standing on the porch.

  Mia is stepping backward, away from him and into the house, saying something about having a good time and they’ll discuss things soon. Mr. Evan’s face is full of masked disappointment as he holds onto her elbow, not wanting to let her go. The second he notices me, he drops his hand and his eyes snap up to mine, shifting from hopefully eager to downright annoyed.

  Twisting around to see what captured his attention, she flashes a relieved smile when our eyes lock. “Hey, Gray. I wasn’t expecting you home this early. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t feel like going anywhere, so I decided to hang out here tonight.”

  It takes everything inside me not to grab her wrist, yank her inside, and slam the door in Mr. GQ’s face, but I resist the urge, mostly not to piss Mia off. I think I’ve already done that today.

  “Oh, okay.” She takes another step inside, closer to me and farther from him, but smiles sincerely in his direction. I stay exactly where I am, not leaving until he’s gone. “Thank you again, Jonathan, for everything today. I can’t wait to hear from you about what we discussed.”

  Bringing her knuckles to his mouth, he kisses them and grins up at her. “I’ll be in touch soon, Mia.” Then, finally, he spins around and retreats to his car.

  She shuts the door and turns to face me, the pleasant expression from a few moments ago wiped away as she stands with one hand on her cocked hip. “You want to tell me what your problem is?”

  “What are you talking about?” I reply coolly, knowing exactly what she’s talking about.

  “Earlier this afternoon. Just now. You were all but a jerk to Jonathan, who if you didn’t notice is someone I kinda want to impress to get this painting thing started.” She closes the distance between us and presses her fingertip in my chest, her bright blue eyes even more striking than normal as they glow with a fiery intensity. “I need this, Gray.”

  I’m not sure what inside me snaps, but something about the way she says the word ‘need’, combined with the passionate pleading look on her face, and suddenly, I have an overwhelming eagerness to show her exactly what she needs.

  My lips slam down on hers as my hands cradle her jaw, tilting her face up to mine. Caught entirely off guard, she opens her mouth, probably to protest, but I quiet her immediately with my tongue, darting it in between her parted lips.

  The sound of her purse and keys crashing to the wood floor echoes through the entryway as she raises her hands to my chest, palms splayed against my bare skin. But surprisingly, and much to my delight, instead of pushing me away, she uses my body as leverage to kiss me back.

  My hands slide around behind her neck, tangling in the loose hairs that’ve fallen free from her twist thing, while her nails dig into my flesh, demanding more from my mouth. With urgent swipes of our tongues, our lips mold together in a claiming, lust-driven kiss neither of us can resist.

  The soft whimper she elicits into my mouth as my hands f
all down her back and lands just above her ass fuels me to push further. Backing her up against the front door, our mouths never losing contact, I reach up under her dress, grab ahold of her firm cheeks, and lift her up off the ground. Her legs instinctively wrap around my hips, causing her skirt to hike up around her waist, leaving the thin, lacy fabric of her panties the only barrier between her hot pussy and my lower abdomen she’s pressed against.

  And it’s fucking on fire.

  “Gray,” she pants, her fingers twisting in my dark hair. “We can’t—”

  Her voice hitches as I boldly snake one hand around to her front and swipe my thumb lightly between her legs. At my faint touch, she arches back and squeezes her legs tightly around me, her body begging for more.

  I drop my face into her neck and nuzzle the smooth skin below her ear. “We can’t what?” I whisper hoarsely as I brush my fingers across her heat again, this time allowing it to linger a tiny bit longer. “Do this?” My rock-hard dick, which is barely harnessed by the thin sleep pants, is positioned perfectly under her ass, so I thrust upwards, making her gasp loudly. “Or this?”

  She tugs roughly on my hair and forces my face back to hers, drawing my bottom lip between her teeth and sucking hard. My hand cups her sex, the flimsy material now soaked with her arousal, and she sucks in a ragged breath.

  “Any of it,” she murmurs while kissing across my jaw and shamelessly grinding down on my palm. “We can’t do any of it, but I can’t stop it either.”

  “Fuck, Mia. Me neither,” I growl, dipping a finger under her panties and feeling her silky, slick skin against mine. “I need these off.”

  She nods without hesitation and I rip them from her body with one forceful tear, then toss them to the floor. My fingers return to her, tenderly caressing her swollen lower lips, but the smell of her excitement is too much for me to resist. I need more.

  Lowering her feet to the floor, I kiss her hard before dropping to my knees, licking my lips as I take her all in. With one swipe of my tongue across her smoldering center, I realize I’m in more trouble than I initially thought. She fucking tastes even better than she smells, and I’m drowning in my desire.

  The sound of a car engine pulling into the driveway forces us both to freeze in place, our eyes locked on one another as we both struggle to catch our breath. The subsequent closing of a car door and footsteps toward the front porch send us on a mad dash up the stairs and into our own rooms, just in time before the front door opens and my best friend makes his way inside.

  “THIS BETTER BE GOOD,” STELLA ANNOUNCES as she slides into the chair across the table from me. “You know I don’t do this early morning shit.” Her words are crass, but I know by the twinkle in her eyes and the light tone of her voice she’s just teasing instead of truly being annoyed.

  “It’s twelve-fifteen on a Monday, Stel. Most people have completed half of their day by now,” I say while making eye contact with the waitress, who assumed I’d been stood up for my lunch date. Although, in her defense, I have been sitting here alone for the last half-hour, staring hopelessly at my phone and nursing a glass of wine, but asking if I was sure my friend was joining me not once, not twice, but three times was a bit rude.

  My sister glances down at the near-empty glass in front of me and cocks her eyebrow. “And most people wait until after lunch before they start boozing it up on a weekday,” she retorts sarcastically, “but apparently, the two of us aren’t like most people. Now what’s up? Why the sense of urgency for this face-to-face meeting?”

  I sit and stare blankly at her for a few seconds, wondering what the best way to approach the subject is.

  Her expression quickly morphs from playful to concerned. “Mia? What’s going on, hun? Did the meeting with the gallery guy go okay yesterday?”

  “He kissed me,” I blurt out at the exact moment Miss Snarky Server decides to saunter up to our table for Stella’s drink order.

  She steals a nasty look over at me and snickers as if she can’t believe someone like Gray would kiss someone like me. Well, at least that’s what I assume she’s thinking, even though she has no idea who the he is I’m talking about.

  “I’ll have a Ketel One screwdriver, double tall, she’ll have another glass of wine, and we’ll start with an appetizer sampler. I think we may be here a while,” Stella announces without taking her stare off me, the waves of curiosity rolling off of her.

  The young girl mutters something under her breath that sounds like “she already has been” as she spins around and shuffles off. Customer service at its finest.

  As soon as she’s out of earshot, Stella pounds her hands on the wooden tabletop and demands excitedly, “Spill it, woman. Tell me everything. Was this before or after he fell in love with your paintings? Did you schedule a show? Did he try anything else? Why didn’t you go all the way?”

  “No, no, it’s not what you think,” I interrupt her interrogation.

  “What do you mean? You said he kissed you, and obviously it wasn’t a goodnight peck on the cheek for you to have dragged my ass here.”

  I shake my head and brace myself for her upcoming response. “It wasn’t Jonathan who kissed me, though I think he wanted to, but—”

  “But what? Who did you kiss, Mia? If you say Mark, I swear to God I’m gonna storm out of here and never speak to you again.” She wrinkles her forehead with revulsion at the mere thought of me locking lips with my cheating ex.

  “Gray,” I whisper quietly.

  At first, I’m not even sure she heard me, but once the realization of who I just said hits, her eyes grow wide with shocked disbelief.

  “Holy shit. I thought... I even told you on Friday... I’m just... Wow,” she murmurs, running her fingers through her hot pink hair. “So tell me what happened.”

  I finish off the last of my first glass and hand it to the waitress as she sets down our drinks, and once she’s gone, I begin rehashing the story.

  “First, he and Adam came home right before Jonathan and I were about to leave for dinner, and he acted really weird, like he was pissed off, even though just the day before he told me how excited he was for me about the possibility of getting a show.”

  “Wait,” she cuts me off. “Did something happen before this?”

  “Not really. He came downstairs a couple of times while I was painting and we talked a little.”

  “But no physical contact?”

  I squirm uncomfortably, not wanting to lie to my sister.

  “Well, he rubbed my shoulders, but that’s it...nothing inappropriate.”

  She nods her head with a knowing look. “Right, okay. Go on.”

  “So when we got home from dinner, he was coming down the stairs when I opened the door, still acting all brooding-like, watching as I told Jonathan goodbye. As soon as I shut the door, I asked him what his problem was, and he just kissed me.”

  Pausing, I swallow hard, unsure how in detail to go with the next part.

  “Then you pushed him off you and retreated into your bedroom?” she asks with what sounds like a twinge of disappointment cutting through.

  “Ummm,” I feel my face heat up with embarrassment, “not exactly. We kinda made out for a little bit against the front door until we heard Adam pull up in the driveway.”

  Her lips tilt up at both corners in a wicked grin. “Elaborate on this ‘made out’ activity.”

  “Stella,” I sigh, covering my face with my hands. “Don’t.”

  She ignores me. “Did you keep your clothes on?”

  “Some.”

  “Mia.”

  “He tore my panties off, okay? The dress stayed on, but he ripped my thong straight off my body,” I bite out. “Is that what you want to know?”

  Lifting her glass to her lips, she nods with a pleased smirk. “It’s exactly what I want to know, and I couldn’t be happier about it.”

  “Did you not just hear me?” I implore. “I said I screwed around with my son’s best friend! This isn’t something to be happy abo
ut. I’m a terrible person. It’s so…so wrong.”

  “Says who? You’re both consenting adults who gave into an attraction that’s obviously been growing over the past couple of weeks. It’s not like you’re seducing an impressionable child who doesn’t know what’s going on. I’m sure his sexual exploits far outnumber yours in every way imaginable. He may even open your eyes to a few things you’ve been missing out on over the past twenty years.”

  “He’s not going to open my eyes to anything, because it’s not going to happen again,” I balk. “It shouldn’t have happened in the first place. I’m sure he’s regretting it today too.”

  We both grow quiet as the food is set on the table in front of us, the savory aromas causing my stomach to growl. I load up my plate with potato skins and buffalo wings as my thoughts continue to run rampant, still in a frenzied state over the way Gray made my body feel last night and then the close call of nearly getting caught by Adam. I’m ashamed of how easily I gave into his advances, and though I expected Stella to not be judgmental of my actions, I didn’t expect her to encourage me to do it again.

  “Have you talked to him?” she asks.

  I shake my head as I stuff my face, knowing I’ll need a second trip to the gym today after all of this fried food. “No, we both rushed into our rooms, and I didn’t come out again until I left this morning to workout. I haven’t been back to the house. I’m not sure what to say to him.”

  Setting her fork down, she looks at me with true sincerity. “I don’t know what to tell you, sis, but I think you’re way overthinking this. Before last night, when’s the last time you did something spontaneous…impulsive…maybe even a little reckless? Better yet, when’s the last time you did something just because it was something you wanted to, not worrying about anyone else’s reaction, feelings, or anything else?”

  My shoulders hunch forward as I drop my gaze to the table. The silence speaks for itself.

  “From the time you were eighteen, your sole purpose in life has been to be a wife and a mom, and you were damn good at both, but Mark is gone and Adam is grown.” Reaching across the table, she takes my hand in hers and squeezes lightly. “It’s time to start living your life for you, Mia. Do what makes you happy. If that means painting naked people and getting involved in the artist community, then great, and if it means having a fling with a hot, young, willing stud, then that’s great too. Whatever it is, live it, love it, and embrace it. After all this time, you deserve it.”

 

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