The Rest of Forever

by Kitty Berry

  “I’ll let her know. Devil, um…Devon is his secretary.”

  I help my shaky-legged girl from the car. I love that she’s disoriented from the pleasure my fingers brought her. I lead her to the front entrance.

  Jordan leans her head back to take in the full height of the castle with a whistle. “This must have really pissed off the Ingram family. It’s almost an exact replica of theirs.”

  I nod and stand beside my girl to take the home in as well. Like the Ingram castle, this one must also house fifty rooms, if not more.

  “I’m all for making you happy at any cost,” I honestly admit. “But this one is a piece of shit in comparison to the muscle machine’s over there. And what are we going to do with a castle this size?”

  “Fill it with babies?” she states with a far-off gooey-eyed expression and my cock turns to granite.

  “Can we start now?”

  She bats my advances off and pulls me by the hand to the front door. I limp behind her, my dick now killing me, then box her in with my hands on the door frame and her back against it. “You’ve done a complete one hundred-and-eighty-degree turn about me. I think we need to discuss this.”

  “I think you need to fuck me,” she suggests instead. “This place is clearly uninhabited. No one will see if you take your dick out right now and fuck me up against this door.”

  Jordan mounts me, her slender legs wrapping around my waist as her tongue licks a path up my neck before her teeth nip my ear.

  I growl as my cock throbs for her. I gently place her back on the ground so I can relieve her of her panties and get my dick out and ready. Then I reach for my zipper and carefully lower each rung as Jordan’s smile grows. Knowing she’s won me over and is going to get what she wants, this house and my dick, makes for a happy girl. “Pull your panties to the side or I’m ripping them to shreds.”

  Jordan raises a challenging brow, and I do as I warned. After the shredded lace hits the ground, I free myself and stroke my cock as she watches. “Are you wet?”

  “No, I’m drenched, Callan. Fuck me.”

  I lower my pants for better range of motion, pull one of her legs up so she’s half-straddling me, then I crouch down and push into her warm heat with a moan that vibrates through my chest. I grab her ass and hoist her up, keeping one of her feet on the ground. Then I simultaneously thrust her against the door as I move her up and down on my cock.

  I know this position gives her G-spot and clit optimal stimulation as I rub against her while my cock thrusts in and out, but still, I lower a hand while keeping the other on the doorframe, and use it to get her off. “Feels amazing inside you, baby. I’m going to come quick. You got my dick so fucking worked up in the car it’s a miracle I didn’t shoot my load with Fischer on the phone.”

  “Callan,” she grunts on my particularly hard push. “Yes, harder.”

  I follow her request and slow my rhythm down, but I increase the intensity of each thrust. “I’m close, Jor. Get there, baby.”

  I rub at her clit, small, gentle circles until I’m seeing stars in my effort to suppress my climax. Knowing it’s imminent, I press down harder and marvel at the way she soars into her climax with my name on her lips. God, that’s a sound I missed. Two more thrusts is all it takes for me to come, long and hard, deep inside her tight pussy.

  I push into her on that last thrust and stay seated to the root of my cock. It took my girl some time to comfortably accommodate to all of me, but now, she seeks it out. “You’re so big, Callan. Feels so good, don’t move.”

  Jordan grinds against me to milk me of everything I have and extend her own climax in the process. When the stimulation becomes too much for my dick to withstand, I grab her ass and lift her up. My mouth finds and covers hers and Jordan sends her hands into my hair, her nails scraping at my scalp. The tingling sensation, one I would never be able to tolerate with anyone else, pulls a smile to my lips. “Jordan,” I say. “I love you. I’m sorry. Again, for all of it, I’m sorry. I was a fucking mess without you. Please, don’t ever leave me again,” I beg.

  I don’t realize a tear formed and is now running down my cheek until Jordan tilts her head and her own tears begin. “Callan, shh,” she soothes. “I’m in love with you, too, I’m not going anywhere, ever. Let’s forget all of it. It’s in the past, this is our future,” she says nodding behind her to the dilapidated castle.

  “Can we at least make some renovations? Because if not, our future isn’t looking so hot, sweetheart.”

  Jordan laughs and I lower her to the ground so that we can each straighten our clothes, easy for her now that she’s been rid of her panties, the ones that I bend and pocket.

  “Let’s have a walk around the place. I have no idea how much a place like this is even worth. I’m going to snap some pictures and send them to Pete. He’ll be able to tell us what’s feasible.”

  Like the Ingram castle, this one appears to be split into wings, a west and an east, with a huge stained-glass window in the center that allows a view of the enormously wide staircase. To the far right of the castle, there’s a tower and Jordan’s imagination gets the best of her again.

  “Do you think that’s a prison tower? You know, where they gave trespassers a place to stay or maybe where they put one of the Ingram boys for kidnapping their daughter. Then maybe they had another daughter that no one knew about that they had locked away and she found the male prisoner and, at first, had planned to make him remain in the dungeon for what she thought he’d done to her sister, but after seeing his distraught nature, she experienced a hint of sympathy and set him free. Instead of leaving, because by then, he was in love with her, she led him to her room, and they had wild sex.”

  “So now this whole fantasy of yours has turned into prisoner porn?”

  “Prisoner porn? What the fuck is that?”

  “Never mind,” I say with a smile then text Pete another picture.

  “Do you think they have a ballroom in there?” she asks when we round the side of the dwelling where the atrium is located.

  “I’m sure and again I ask, why do we need a castle?”

  “Because it will be amazing. And maybe we can do a B and B here too like my sister and Elliot.”

  “Wait, so now you want me to buy this falling down dump, renovate it, then open it up to strangers? Jordan, have you met me?”

  Jordan laughs and pushes my anxiety away. This girl will be the death of me. She not only pushes every one of my hot buttons, she also pushes me into doing things I otherwise would avoid like the plague. I’m not a fan of germs, so that’s saying something.

  What I expect used to be private gardens come into view and Jordan takes off running. “Be careful,” I warn as I chase after her with visions of her tripping and killing herself as she slides down the cliff only a few feet away.

  “I’m not a klutz,” she reminds me. “Look at this garden.”

  It features a large pool, or what used to be one, as well as several massively overgrown hedges and plant life.

  “Close your eyes, Cal. Picture an outdoor kitchen like at the B and B with a stove and firepit, a patio for us and our friends, and we’ll make this pool one of those endless kind that looks like you’ll fall off the cliff if you swim too close to it.”

  “Why do we want to do that?”

  “Because it’ll be relaxing.”

  “For who?”

  Jordan laughs, possibly at me, but not in a way that cuts deep like when the other kids at school had, but in a way that says she thinks my quirks are cute.

  “Wow,” she exclaims. “They even had a greenhouse. I can grow orchids and vegetables all year long.”

  “Or weed because if you think I’m having guys parade through this castle like Elliot did this summer at the B and B, I’m going to need to pick up that habit.”

  Again, Jordan laughs at me, thinking I’m joking when, in all honesty, I’m really not. I cannot have strange men looking at her and survive it again. Ever. And especially not in my
own home that, by Pete’s responses, is going to cost me a pretty penny to fix up.

  The tour complete, we can’t get inside and we’ve made our way around the grounds, we head back to the car.

  My phone chirps with a text from Elliot.

  Elliot: How the fuck long are you planning on staying here? I thought Adams got you involved to get Jordan and Jenny out of my house, not add your sorry ass to the mix.

  I laugh at my best friend’s text and respond as only best friends can.

  Callan: FUCK OFF! We’ll stay as long as we like. I’ve offered you cash, take it or STFU.

  Elliot: I fucking hate you. When you leave, Jenny and that fucking dog are going with you.

  Callan: Suck my dick, man. Hollow your cheeks out and be prepared to swallow.

  Elliot: LOL! Pete says this is going to cost you big time. You planning on asking Mac for more work? Please, promise me that you won’t try to fake your death or lie to Jordan again. The women scare Ace and me. We can’t handle that again. And frankly, you were a fucking mess so…

  Callan: I’ve got a job in Falls Village that pays enough to make this work. I’ll fill you in over beers later. I’m sure the girls are going to want to see the pictures Jordan is taking. By the way, there’s an Adonis hiding in that castle you can see from the town. We need a plan to keep the girls far away from him. I think Jordan’s ovaries burst when she saw him.

  Elliot: Lyons and Bridge are already on their way. Adams has already received the hot, manbun sporting, billionaire alert and called her sister. This is sure to be a fucking disaster for us all.

  Callan: We’ll be home in a few. Get the hard stuff ready. I need a fucking drink.

  Jordan’s excitement develops into near hysteria when I tell her that Ace and Bridget are on their way to Falls Village with her baby nephew, Oliver, in tow. “Oh, my God! He’s the teacup. They can stay in Falls Village and live with us!”

  “Whoa, whoa, hold up, baby,” I exclaim. “I have no idea what you’re talking about with teacups, but I’m sure Colleen could…”

  “Didn’t you listen about the movie?”

  “Not even for a second. But now we’re buying a castle and Ace and your sister are co-habituating with us?”

  “Isn’t it perfect? Maybe they’ll buy it with us, do it as a joint effort.”

  “I don’t know about…”

  “Callan Black, don’t make me threaten sex with you.”

  I raise my eyebrows then smile. “You don’t fight fair.”

  Jordan returns my smirk and settles in for the ride into town.

  We pass Colleen’s tea shop and my apartment where Teyler is staying, then round the corner where Cole Alexander is remodeling his family’s hardware store, Alexander Hardware and Building Supply.

  Cole Alexander grew up in Falls Village, where everyone used his middle name, Cody. Once ensconced in college life, his friends began using his given name, Cole, so upon his return to Falls Village with his tail between his legs, he insisted everyone use Cole. Apparently, his ex-wife had thought it cute to call him by his childhood name, and after his complicated divorce, he never wants to hear the name Cody again.

  Cole returned a few weeks back to live with his mother after his messy divorce and his father’s passing. He’s renovating the family’s hardware store, but Lenny, his quirky employee, has managed to keep it open during the process.

  We arrive back at the B and B in time for lunch and find Elliot in his kitchen whipping up something that smells better than life. “What are you making?” I ask as I try to open the pot on the stove and take a hit to the arm for it.

  “Back the fuck away from my stove, man.”

  “Oh, hey! Ow! Fuck…I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you got a hard-on for chili the way you do pies,” I state as I raise the lid to the pot.

  “You’ll fuck up the cooking process if you let it cool and don’t fucking even think about stirring it. Go sit down over there,” he demands, pointing in the direction of the breakfast nook. “And read a magazine or something.”

  I roll my eyes at my best friend, the trained operative and killer like myself who is now a married man and chef running a B and B and a restaurant on the tip of Falls Village. “Fine,” I grumble. “It’s better than going into the living room with our girls and being forced to listen to Jordan telling Courtney and Jenny about that Ingram dude.”

  The doggie door from the back deck opens and in saunters a proud of himself, strutting Beast carrying something in his mouth. He drops the book at my feet then pulls his body back and hurls himself up and onto my lap. I toss him onto the bench seat next to me in time to avoid his sneeze.

  “Looks like he brought you something to read,” Elliot says then turns back to his cooking. Over his shoulder, he says, “He likes you. He usually just ignores me.”

  I grumble about being the lucky one as Beast snuggles into the side of my body. I pat his head and laugh at his snoring. The mutt is kind of cute and has grown on me.

  I pull my oven mitts from my pockets. He hasn’t grown on me that much. I still carry them around for dog germ emergencies such as this because when I take a closer look at the drool covered book he dropped at my feet; I see that it’s actually that motherfucking notebook of Jordan’s. The one that I’m convinced she’s been using to record my sexual capabilities.

  Curious if she’s had time to update it and add that new tongue move I’ve incorporated into the mix, I glove up then reach down to grab the book.

  Subject is a Caucasian male in his twenties with an early diagnosis of PDD-NOS (DSM-IV 1997). He comes from a wealthy background and has received specialized services and therapy since diagnosis.

  What the fuck does my ethnic background, gender, and fucking diagnosis have to do with my ability to fuck Jordan into oblivion?

  I turn to the next page, the first journal entry, and read about the day we met. We fucked later that night, which she still insists was technically the following day, but she hasn’t recorded a thing about my stamina or the fact that I made her come no less than five times. What the fuck was Jordan actually trying to accomplish with this fucking book?

  And then it hits me, and I turn back to the first page. “Subject.” She referred to me as a motherfucking subject. Jordan wasn’t using this book to record how awesome I was in the fucking sack; she was using me as her case study for school. And just like that, all the old feelings of insecurity come rushing back. If Jordan was viewing me as a damaged “subject” that needed examining, and my best friends know it, they were all laughing at me just like the kids on the playground.

  I can’t even make eye contact with Elliot. I avert my gaze like those old days and make a comment about leaving as I storm out through the slider, leaving the offending notebook with the dog’s chew bites on the table.

  Chapter Eleven

  The term PDD was widely used by professionals to refer to children with autism and related disorders back when I was a child. But even at that time, there had been a great deal of disagreement and confusion among the professional community around that label. According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, it is not a specific diagnosis, but an umbrella term under which other diagnoses are defined. Because of my substantial impairments in social interaction, my inability to appropriately communicate with others, and my limited range of interests, I fell under that umbrella. Being a spectrum disorder, with symptoms ranging from mild to severe, I was quickly classified by a multidisciplinary team of professionals as “high functioning autism-Asperger’s syndrome.” My parents had been devastated. I hadn’t understood nor had I given two shits what anyone thought of me.

  But that was a long time ago, and now I do care. I’ve learned to care what my family and close friends think of me. I’ve taught myself to care about them, to have friends. But where has that gotten me? I’ll tell you where, drunk in a bar just outside of Falls Village with the other misunderstood town misfit once again on a barstool beside me.

&nbs
p; Brian Edwards has remained in Waterland Isle while waiting for the apartment above his new Falls Village nightclub to be finished and now we sit together, me drowning my sorrows in a bottle of Scotch while he sips on a bottle of water.

  After leaving the B and B, I called Brian and asked him to meet me here. I then called Teyler and warned him not to answer the door when Jordan and Elliot show up looking for me. I assured him that they weren’t crazed fans there to jeopardize his privacy right before I also informed him that I’d be living with him into the unforeseeable future. Then I shut my phone off.

  Brian asks if I want to talk about whatever has gotten me so upset, but I only growl in response. I don’t want to discuss any of it. Not what it felt like to grow up the oddball on a military base, the weird kid with no friends that had to take twenty-five, not twenty-four or twenty-six steps from his driveway into his house. I don’t want to remember the days when I washed my hands until they bled because I was able to see the germs on them. I refuse to share the anxiety I felt, even while having sex, that a girl would touch me in my own self-imposed off-limit zones. Until Jordan, even sex hadn’t relaxed me.

  Sure, it had been slightly different with Courtney for a while and that’s why I had thought she was the one I was meant to spend my life with. Looking back, I see it was more her aura that had fooled me. It was her commonality with her sister that drew me to her. Once I met Jordan, I knew I had been wrong about Courtney and me. Jordan is the one made for me and me for her. Now what the fuck am I going to do because I can’t live my life with someone who thinks I’m a joke, a case study for her psychology degree.

  I drink way beyond my limit, so Brian drops me off at my apartment. I stagger inside and make it to the sofa in time to pass out. I wake the following morning to a huge shadow looming over my body. I groan, but I’m thankful for the darkness that shadow provides. I can’t possibly open my eyes; I can sense the sun shining through the open windows and I know it’ll bring me to my knees. Wait, was I standing up? The room is spinning, so it’s hard to know.