by R. R. Banks
“I haven’t felt like that with anyone since then, which you made me realize.” She looks up at me. “Not even with the boyfriends I thought I loved.”
She lets the comment sit for a second. My hands suddenly start to sweat, so I put my mug down.
“Oh,” is all I can manage to say.
“I’m not sure what I’m trying to say,” she admits, looking away from me again and out into the yard. “I think I’m… I don’t know. I just have a lot going on, you know? Emotionally and otherwise.”
I pick my coffee back up and take a long drink. I need to wake up more if we’re going to talk about this.
“You do have a lot going on.” I nod. “So that’s why we’re trying to stay friends for now, right?”
She’s starting to fidget. “I know that. But it’s hard.”
“Because…?” I know what she’s going to say, but I want to hear her say it.
“Because I think I feel something for you again. Very few people in my life care about me the way you do, with actions.” Her voice sounds steady and sure. “But I’m a wreck, Jay. I can’t be a good… Whatever we would be. Assuming you feel something, too. God, I’m just assuming shit left and right.”
“I do feel something,” I say, cutting her off. “A lot of something.”
I slide my hands against my shorts, trying to stay casual even though I feel like a fucking teenager again. It took me three solid months to get the courage to ask Simone out, and when I finally did it, I only managed to do it through MySpace. God, remember that? She said yes, obviously, but it was the most nerve-wracking moment of my young life. Sweaty hands, racing heart — just like now.
“So what do we do?” she asks, her voice small. “I don’t know if I can be just friends with you anymore. It would suck. But I don’t think I can be a good girlfriend.”
“Maybe you can be. Maybe you’re selling yourself short.” I move a little closer to her. Her lips look really soft, and I feel a magnetic tug in my gut to just kiss her.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” She slides her fingers through her hair, tossing it over her shoulder. “I don’t want to get hurt either.”
Both of us let out a breath at the same time, long and slow.
“I don’t think either of us want that.” I smile a little. “Anyone who does is a masochist. But it’s better than not trying at all.”
She smiles back, and all my fucks go out the window. I take her chin between my fingers and kiss her softly. It’s a sweet kiss, nothing like the frenzied ones we shared when we slept together. She pulls me close by my T-shirt and winds her arms around my neck. I feel tingles from my lips to my toes, like there’s lightning in the air nearby. She moans softly when I nip her bottom lip, and that does me in. I grasp her hips and pull her legs around my waist. I don’t grind against her — I just keep kissing her like my life depends on it. I want to have her close, forever, and I don’t want this to end.
I’m not sure how long we spend making out in the kitchen, but it’s long enough for the area around her mouth to get chapped and red from my stubble. I plant kisses down the side of her neck to give her a little break, pushing the collar of the big T-shirt aside to brush my lips along her collarbone. Her breath hitches for a moment when I do. I’m glad she still likes to have that spot kissed. Her neck is irresistible, long and graceful like a swan’s.
“Can we go somewhere else?” she murmurs, grasping my face between her little hands and kissing me briefly. The way she’s looking up at me through her lashes tells me everything I need to know.
I make sure her legs are secure around me and pick her up, walking us back to my bedroom. The body pillow is still on the bed, so I shove it to the ground, gently placing Simone on the bed. I sit down next to her and pull her so she’s straddling my lap.
How do her kisses make me feel like I’m dying and coming alive at the same time? All these years, I thought the intensity of the feeling of kissing her was just young lust, the thrill of actually touching a girl I liked for the first time. But no, it’s the fact that I’m kissing her. She’s the reason why I never felt those deep feelings when I kissed the few other girlfriends I’ve had in the past. She set my bar so high that no one could ever clear it.
She’s tugging on my hair with one hand so she can rake her teeth across my neck, nipping a little. Not so hard that I’ll have a hickey, but just enough for me to feel it. My fingers are itching to feel more of her skin, more of all of her. I slide my hand under her shirt, up her ribcage and to the band of her bra. I lean back and take my own shirt off first before doing the same to her, pulling her flush against my skin.
Her nipples are pebbled, and when I move so they brush against my chest, she gasps. Feeling her soft breasts, smelling whatever sweet lotion she happened to put on her neck last night… I’m overwhelmed, and I don’t know how much longer I can last without exploding or going up in flames. My lust has finally joined in, and I rock my hips against hers. She eagerly returns the favor.
“Sit up here,” she purrs, crawling off my lap and point to the headboard. “Take these off.”
I do as she says and shuck off my shorts and boxers. My cock’s already leaking a little pre-come, aching to be touched. I sit with my upper back against the headboard and she kneels between my legs. She gives me a sweet little kiss on the lips before she trails her mouth downward, over my chest and to my left nipple. She licks it, nips it, then does the same to my right one. Goddamn, that feels good.
“Shit, keep doing that,” I grunt, hardly sounding like myself. She glances up at me in surprise, then swirls her tongue around each nipple again. Every nip and short suck sends blood rushing southward, and the only thing keeping me from losing control is the thought of being inside of her again. I want to savor it this time while I’m wide awake, less driven by hot lust and vodka.
She kisses her way down to my bellybutton, grasping my cock at the base. My hips twitch up in anticipation and she grins. She keeps eye contact as she swirls her wet tongue around my tip. I swear loudly, clutching the sheets instead of grabbing her hair too hard by mistake. I can’t take my eyes off of her.
She takes her sweet time licking every inch of my cock, gently sucking on each of my balls before she takes me into her mouth completely. I can’t stop myself from moaning loudly, because holy fuck, she’s good at this. Her hair falls over her face as she bobs her head up and down, sucking me like she’s trained for it her whole adult life. I gather her hair on top of her head and use the spare hair elastic she keeps on her wrist to keep it out of her face.
“I — Oh, fuck,” I moan.
Her tongue hits me in that perfect spot on the underside of the head of my cock over and over again. Not so hard that it’s painful, but just enough for me to beg like a dying man. For what, I’m not sure. I want her to keep going, but if she does, I’m going to come so hard that my soul leaves my body.
“Babe, please,” I gasp, grabbing the ponytail I made and tugging her off of me. “I need you.”
She scrambles over my thighs, positioning her center over my cock. After a few teasing brushes, she slides down slowly, enveloping me in her soaking, soft warmth. She groans and rests her hands on my shoulders, using them to balance as she slides up and down my shaft. I want to stay deep inside her, so I stop her when she’s all the way on me.
“Hold on to me,” I manage through clenched teeth. When she gets her arms around the back of my neck, I scoot forward and wrap her legs around my waist. Now we’re chest to chest, as close as we can possibly be. I rock my hips forward, which makes her gasp and dig her nails into my skin.
It takes a bit, but we eventually fall into a steady rhythm, rocking against each other. My face is buried in her neck, kissing her and trying so damn hard to not come before she does. I think she’s already close, clutching me like I’m the only person who exists.
I cup her ass so I can rock her harder. She’s trembling and starting to clench around my cock, her breasts pressing into my chest with every
labored breath she takes. She climaxes with a quiet moan and a fully-body shudder that almost undoes me.
Staying inside her, I gently tip her over onto her back and balance on my elbows over her. She keeps her legs wrapped around me while I thrust into her, feeling tension building up in the base in my spine. I kiss her again, letting my lips linger on hers while she slides her fingers through my hair, her nails tingling my scalp.
I can’t hold back any longer, and start to lose control, like a slowed-down explosion. I manage to pull out in time and come on her belly. After a few moments of trying to get a hold on reality, I flop onto my back next to her. Shoulder to shoulder, we gather ourselves.
After what seems like ages, Simone reaches over and threads her fingers though mine, giving my hand a squeeze. When I turn my head to look at her, she’s smiling.
Chapter Thirteen
Simone
I almost wish I’d let myself be with Jay earlier in the year when it was chillier because he’s like a damn furnace in his bed. Our bed? Well, his bed — I’m just in it. Since that night after Max broke in three weeks ago, I’ve stayed inside the house with him. He has half his body thrown around me in a cuddle, his arm across my chest and leg over mine, his face buried into the pillows. I need to get out before I burst into flames.
I finally open my eyes and immediately realize I feel disgusting, like I’m about to throw up. My sleep-addled brain starts to put things together. Last night I made chicken pesto, but I cooked it all the way through. But I also ate some cookie dough raw… Does salmonella kick in that fast? I don’t even know, because my stomach’s usually made of steel.
I roll out from his grip and rush to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I make it to the toilet before I heave, holding my hair back with one hand. I puke quietly for what feels like an hour, even though it’s probably only been a minute. Ugh, I hate this.
I sit back on my heels and flush, sighing. I hope I don’t have food poisoning. I’ve been getting a lot of work done and I don’t want to disrupt my flow. I clean myself up, still feeling a little uneasy. I hope I didn’t wake up Jay, but then again, he’s usually a heavy sleeper. The doors are thick around the house anyway, and I don’t think I made too much noise.
If I even hint that I’m sick, I know he’ll insist that I rest at least half the day. I smile around my toothbrush. I’ve gotten a tiny bit used to being showered with affection and attention, and it’s nice when Jay’s not getting in my way. He’s Mr. Protective, and it’s especially noticeable since we’re together all the time now.
Every day, we get up together, usually fuck, eat breakfast, then go to his warehouse to work. The afternoon’s basically the same after lunch. It’s a comfortable rhythm, so comfortable that it’s a little startling. I don’t know how to handle how good I feel in parallel to how terrifying this is, way deep down. The pain of not being with him is much bigger than my fear of being with him, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not scared. We haven’t talked about what we actually are, or what we’ll do when I go back to the city in two months. For once, it’s not something that Jay wants to face head-on.
I don’t think I can fall back asleep after throwing up, so I go into the kitchen and start some water in the kettle. I decide on tea considering my stomach, plus Jay hates my coffee no matter what I do. It’s not my fault he likes to drink battery acid that he calls coffee. I can only tolerate it with a lot of creamer.
I look out the window while I wait, admiring the trees in full bloom. I’m going to miss it up here.
I don’t want to think about leaving yet.
At least my stomach is a decent distraction. I’ve taken my iron stomach for granted. I lean against the counter, taking a few deep breaths. If it’s food poisoning, wouldn’t Jay also be barfing his brains out, too? I pop open the fridge and grab the leftovers. They don’t smell bad.
I rub my belly absently, and I’m super bloated. Maybe it’s PMS.
I freeze, looking at the deer calendar Jay has on the fridge. It’s been a while since I remember having my period. I’m lucky in that it’s never a huge deal like it is for some other women I know. But the downside of that is that I’ve let who knows how much time go by without even noticing that I’m insanely late…
Shit.
Jay’s been pulling out lately, but sometimes he doesn’t. I am on the pill, but I’m not perfect with it. I never really had to be, since Max always liked to use condoms as backup and easy clean up, and my past relationships were so short-lived that only relying on the pill never even came up.
I feel extra sick now. I mean, there’s a chance I’ve literally just caught food poisoning for the first time in ages, but there’s also a very real chance that I’m pregnant. That changes everything. Any thoughts of cruising along with whatever Jay and I are until I leave are gone. How could we have been so careless? Yeah, the sex is amazing, but it’s not so earth-shattering that we can’t use our damn brains. Or maybe it is that earth-shattering, and in that case, he’s ruined me for every other sexual partner I’ll have in the future.
I make my tea in a daze and drink it at the counter. I need to go into town and clear my head. Since we share a bathroom, how can I take a test? I’ll have to hide it. I think I can do that. I need to get dressed and out the door before Jay’s up. But I can’t go into town alone. Max or whoever helped him break into my place might still be out there. But I surely can’t go with Jay, so I’ll have to be fast and careful.
I hurry to finish my tea without spewing it all over the kitchen, then take a fast shower. I wind my wet hair into a bun and head back into the bedroom, where Jay’s finally awake. He doesn’t really use his phone the way most people do in the morning — he literally just uses it as a phone, and not a mini-computer — so he’s just sitting up with his hands in his lap, his eyes heavily lidded.
Even in my distress, I can’t help but notice how hot he is. His broad, powerful shoulders, the perfect proportions of his chest muscles, the dusting of hair that trails down his stomach and under the sheets. His hair is tousled and hanging over his forehead, looking so effortlessly good that I’m a little jealous. He looks like a freaking Norse god, if they had a hard time waking up in the morning.
“Hey,” he says, smiling at me. His eyes skim over my mostly-naked body hungrily. “You’re up early.”
“Yeah, I need to run an errand.” I go over to my drawer and dig out some panties and a bra. I throw my towel on a hook on the back of the door and slide them on.
“How urgent’s that errand?” His voice is low, with that commanding tone that makes me melt immediately. But that’s what got me in this situation in the first place.
“Pretty urgent.” I grab a flowy dress from the closet and slide it on. I’m not even sure if I’m knocked up or not, but I feel self-conscious as hell about my stomach.
“Mm.” I hear him slide out of bed. “So I’m guessing we’ll have to fuck later?”
“Yep, sorry.” I turn and gesture for him to lean down for a kiss. He gives me a light peck on the lips and gives my waist a squeeze.
“Want me to come with you?” He looks concerned.
“No, no.” I try to smile. “I think I’ll be safe. Things have calmed down, and I’m just going to be in the middle of town.”
“Okay,” He looks reluctant to let me go, but he nods. “I’ll see you later, then.”
He goes into the bathroom to get ready for the day, and I sag with relief.
I quickly gather my purse and head out to my car. It’s been a long time since I’ve been alone in town since the break-in. Or alone, period. It’s kind of nice, but a tremor of anxiety runs through me. The police haven’t been able to do anything in regard to Max’s break-in, but nothing else has happened since. Jay’s shadow constantly around me makes me feel protected and safe. I don’t know what I’ll do when I have to leave. Guess I have to get used to flying solo again.
I slap the steering wheel in frustration and crank up my music. I’m probably just ha
ngry. I need to grab a bagel first. I park near the bagel place I discovered in the first few days I was in town and head in.
I’m greeted with a friendly smile from the woman behind the counter, as always. I don’t remember her name, but her face is familiar enough for me to know that she remembers me. The town is small, but at the same time, it’s not. It’s small enough to see certain people all the time, but not feel like every single day is routine. For instance, there’s a group of young people in a corner table, hunched over a map. There are hiking trails not far from here, and I guess the influx of tourists is because of that. But there’s also an older couple there, drinking coffee and reading the paper. It’s like they live there all the time, because I’ve never not seen them in this place.
“How’s it going, hun?” the woman behind the counter asks. She’s probably around my mom’s age, early sixties.
“I’m good, thanks,” I nod, even though the smell of bagels is making my stomach turn. Not my beloved bagels. If I’m actually pregnant and I get turned off of bagels, I’m going to be so pissed.
“What’ll you have?” She looks me over, slightly distressed. “I can’t remember what your order is. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s seriously fine. I’ll take a poppy seed bagel with tofu veggie cream cheese. Toasted,” I say with a laugh. “I’m impressed that you remember so many people’s regular orders.”
“It’s just practice.” The woman smiles and turns to start my order. “Though now that it’s summer, there are so many people coming in and out that I’m forgetting the regulars’ orders.”
“Does it always get busy during the summer?” I ask.
“Usually, yes, but it feels busier this year. It’s been getting popular, this little town. I heard they’re putting a resort on the outskirts. I guess that’s the only place it’ll really fit. There’s not much actual space to grow unless you build into the mountains.” She throws my bagel into the toaster and I pay.