by Penny Wylder
A thought strikes me, as he’s rambling through his dissection of the dinner plans and side dishes we can prepare to go with the main course of ribs and steak. “Hang on. Who all is coming?” My heart leaps into my throat.
“I assume the usual crowd. Drew and Dorine, the Crowells, Russ of course…”
My breath comes short. I go tense, and I have to actually turn away from Dad to face the window, so he won’t see the visceral reaction on my face. Russ. I haven’t seen him since earlier, in the hallway at work. But I can’t stop thinking about the last thing he said to me. I’ll find a way to convince you, Maggie Owens. Mark my words.
Knowing Russ, I don’t doubt that he will. And that’s what scares me. Because I know how easy it would be, honestly, if he really set his mind to it. As it is, I can barely keep myself away from him. All day at work, he was on my mind. When I took my afternoon break, I locked myself in the break room and just pictured him in there with me. I imagined the way he’d pin me against the door and touch me, bold and demanding. He knows exactly what he wants, and he’s the kind of man who will stop at nothing to get it.
It sent a thrill through me then, as it does again now. It made me check the lock on the door, and then slip a hand down the front of my scrubs, unable to stand it, needing a release. I pictured his face in my mind, pictured him kissing his way down my body. I imagined the way that sexy, sculpted jaw of his would look between my thighs. I could imagine the scrape of his stubble against the soft, sensitive skin of my inner thighs as he dipped between them, pressing his face up against my pussy. I imagined the way his lips would feel against my pussy lips, as he kissed me slowly, carefully. His tongue would slowly part my slit, patient and teasing, the same way he touched me that first time, teasing me as he held me against the wall with my hands pinned over my head.
I pictured how it would feel to look down at him, to have him grin up at me, his dark salt-and-pepper hair falling across his even darker eyes as his tongue dragged along my slit, all the way up to graze my clit, and then back again. He would draw it out. He’d tease and lick and suck at me until I was almost screaming with desire, ready to lose my mind. Only then would he finally bear down and lap me with long, hard strokes, to make me come with a scream under his tongue.
I came on my own hand in the break room earlier today, just imagining that. My orgasm was so strong, I had to tug my panties back up, or I was going to get too wet for my own good. I’d gone about my rounds that afternoon afterward, shifting uncomfortably on my feet, knowing I was still wet because I kept picturing him and getting turned on all over again.
Now he’s coming to my parents’ house. Tonight. For an impromptu dinner that my mom decided to plan at the last minute. Something that, I have to admit, is pretty out of character for her. It makes me frown, wondering what’s really going on. Did she have a plan for this all along, or did Russ—who’s a close friend of my father, yes, but who’s also just as close with my mother, too—text her to suggest it?
Is this part of his plan to seduce me? I’ll find a way to convince you, he said, and I don’t doubt that he’ll stop at nothing. I’ve seen Russ work before. I know how he rose through the ranks at this hospital, as almost meteoric a rise as my father’s. They were two of a kind, at least when it came to their ambition and to chasing after what they knew they wanted.
Now I’m what Russ wants, and I can’t help but wonder… what lengths will he go to to win me? And will I really be able to hold out the way I’ve promised to? Or will I cave in, unable to fight the desire I’ve had building inside me for years?
I bunch my fists in my lap as Dad pulls in front the butcher’s shop, and promise myself that whatever happens tonight, I will stay strong.
By the time we get home, Mom’s already in full planning swing. There are cute fairy lights strung up throughout the pool area, to add ambiance to the little greenhouse area Mom and Dad splurged on so that we could have pool parties all year round, even in the winter.
If I’m going to live somewhere with crappy weather for the majority of the year, she always says, then I’m going to at least be able to throw some damn pool parties.
But tonight looks like it will be decent enough, the sky bright and clear overhead, clear enough we can even see a few stars, despite the constant light pollution of Manhattan. It’s still a little chilly, but it warmed up throughout the day, which means that the pool area feels even more heated than usual when we step into it.
Dad goes straight to work, beelining for the grill, already grumbling about how Mom should have warmed it up before he got here. But she stops him halfway to his job, and his worried look softens for a moment. They trade a slow, easy kiss, one that makes me regret not having dated anyone seriously up until now. Watching them together, I’m always reminded of the magic of the right pairing. As infuriating and bossy and controlling as Dad is, with Mom, he’s a completely different person. She softens all his edges, and she’s always been the only one who can talk him out of a bad idea or bring him around to a new point of view.
How she deals with his difficultness, I’ll never know. But I’m glad they found each another.
Thus placated, Dad stops his grumbling and fires up the grill with something almost resembling a smile on his face. While he does that, Mom heads over to the little bar we set up near the pool and starts mixing some drinks. “Come and try one, Maggie,” she calls. “I’m testing out a new recipe.”
Mom used to bartend, back before she had me. Now she doesn’t work, aside from the odd volunteering job here and there. But she always loves whipping out the old bartending skills, especially when there’s a house full of visitors to show off for. I watch her shake with an expert hand and pour the kind of carefully crafted cocktail that would be at home in an expensive Manhattan restaurant. The kind she used to work at back in the day, I know. She’s always talking about how many bartending and craft cocktail awards she won.
I take a sip after she offers it to me, and smile. “It’s delicious.”
“Pumpkin spice twist on a Manhattan,” she says with a grin. “Be careful. It’s pretty boozy.”
I take another sip, unable to resist, as Mom spots something behind me and buzzes past me.
“Russ!” she calls, and then I nearly choke on the next sip of the drink I’d taken. I set it down before I do something utterly unappealing like spilling it all over myself. My hands are already shaky from nerves. The last thing I need is to wind up wearing a drink on top of my scrubs.
Crap. My scrubs. I haven’t even changed yet, and he’s already here.
I spin around and watch him stride in to hug my mom. But his eyes find mine, and sear into me. He doesn’t look away as he releases Mom and calls a brief hello to Dad.
He looks better than ever tonight. Unlike me, he’s not still wearing his work clothes. He changed into a casual pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, one that, when tucked in like it is now, clings to his muscles, and shows off every inch of how ripped he is. I swallow hard and force myself to look away.
“Maggie.” Russ approaches me next and pulls me into a tight hug. It’s the same kind of hug he always offers me at these kind of parties, except that I can’t help but notice the way his hands slide over my backside and down my curves, all the way to my hips. He lingers there, for just a heartbeat longer than would be strictly proper, if not for the fact that he’s already fucked me way past propriety.
We break apart once more, and I suddenly find it’s difficult to catch my breath. I smile up at him and sidestep toward the door. “Excuse me. I should go get ready,” I murmur.
“Bathing suit on,” Mom calls as I slip out. “We’re all going swimming later, and I won’t take no for an answer.”
Russ calls out something in agreement, but I can feel his gaze still on me as I leave, and my heart rabbits in my chest in response, my pulse unable to slow down, my lungs unable to catch up with the breathlessness that comes over me whenever I know his attention is focused on me.
I hurry up to my bedroom. Some part of me expects Russ to follow, to try to seduce me up here the way I used to imagine him doing, after dinner parties when he’d sleep over some nights, in the guest room just down the hall from mine.
But he doesn’t show, and I can’t tell if I’m relieved or disappointed by that fact. Relieved, I scold myself as I change out of my scrubs and into my bikini, before I throw on a shift dress as a coverup on top of it. I’m relieved. Or at least, I should be.
Still, I can’t help hesitating in front of the mirror for longer than strictly necessary. I contemplate putting on makeup to go with my outfit, but I know how warm it is out by the pool deck. Any makeup I put on right now would only sweat right off, and I didn’t want to hang out with Russ while looking like some kind of raccoon. So I just added a light foundation, a faint sheen of lip gloss, and left it at that. As for my hair, I piled it on top of my head, into a slightly messy ponytail that went with my casual dress look.
Finally, I didn’t have any more excuses to hesitate any longer. I needed to go downstairs and face him. To try and resist the heated gazes I know he’d be flinging my direction.
In front of my parents, no less. If I survived tonight, it would be a damn miracle.
With one last check in the mirror, I headed back downstairs. Before I even reached the ground floor, I caught the sound of voices. A couple other guests had arrived, and I waved and gave brief hugs here and there, to the couples who made up my parents’ social circle. While they chatted, I couldn’t stop my gaze wandering past them, though, seeking someone I wasn’t willing to admit I was looking for.
I didn’t stop doing that until I made it back out onto the pool deck, where I found Russ reclined near my dad, who was still bent over the grill, hard at work on dinner. As I entered, Russ waved me in their direction, his expression the kind of grin you’d see on a fox as it cornered a rabbit.
Damn him, he’s going to tease me right in front of my own father, I just know it. Still, I can’t ignore him, not when he calls my name and tells me to come and say hello.
With a deep, steadying breath, I snatch up my mom’s latest drink concoction and head across the pool deck toward them.
“Russ was just telling me how impressed he is by your work ethic,” my father says by way of greeting. His doubtful tone tells me without words that he doesn’t agree.
“Was he?” My gaze finds Russ, unable to resist. My body can’t really help itself around him, not even when I want it to. The way he’s staring at me even now makes my breath hitch, my fist tighten around my drink. His eyes tell me, with just as much detail as I know he’d say with that dirty mouth he could right now, exactly what he wants to be doing to me right now.
The flush starts low in my belly and creeps up my chest toward my neck. To fight it, I tear my eyes away from Russ and force them to fixate on my father. That will kill anyone’s buzz.
“He suggested I give you more patients, by way of testing you. To see if you’re ready to handle a full load.” Dad’s looking at me thoughtfully now. Like he’s actually considering it.
Despite my distraction at Russ being here, I can’t help it. A hopeful smile sneaks onto my face, my eyes widening. Is Dad really relenting?
One look at my expression and Dad’s stern face returns. “I didn’t say I would do it. Not yet, anyway. But he’s given me a lot to think about. If you manage to impress the board members within the next couple of days by going above and beyond before each of their kids leave the hospital…” He clears his throat. “Well, then it will be time to give you that greater test.”
A mixture of relief and shock floods me, tinged with annoyance. I shouldn’t have to beg my father’s permission just to be allowed to do my own job—the job I spent years in school preparing to do, and the job he himself hired me for, no less. But still. It will keep the other nurses on my wing from whispering about me behind my back—at least, any more than they already have been. And who knows? Maybe given a little time, I can get Dad to come around and see my side of things. If I impress the board members’ kids, then get my full rotation of patients back and impress all of their families too… well, eventually, if I work hard enough, Dad will have to take my complaints seriously, right? He’ll have to admit that I have a point about all of this.
A couple of days, Dad said. I can handle that. “I’ll be ready,” I tell him, taking a slow sip of my drink, my eyes not leaving my father’s as I rise to his challenge. If he thinks I’m going to fall flat on my face now, just because he pulled some shady underhanded controlling stuff to try to get me to do what he wants, he’s sorely mistaken. After all, he raised me. I know by now the best way to stand up to him.
Though not as well as Russ knows it, apparently.
“I’m sure she’ll surprise you,” Russ is saying, and I can tell by the way the heat in my body creeps up from my neck to turn my face red, that his eyes haven’t left mine. They probably haven’t strayed since I first walked into the room. I flick him a warning glance.
Much more of this and even my oblivious Dad will start to notice something is up.
But Russ doesn’t look apologetic. If anything, he looks happy. Triumphant. “I know Maggie surprised the hell out of me, with how quickly she’s grown up into… quite the young woman.”
If my father notices the way Russ lays on the word quite, he doesn’t let on. He just claps Russ on the back and clucks his tongue. “You would say that. Always the diplomat.”
“Me? You’re the one who deals with the board and all the snake talk. I just sew the wounded back together after the fallout.” They chuckle together, and Dad cracks some in-joke from their time in med school that has them both grinning. But I can still feel Russ’s gaze on me, even as I murmur an excuse about checking if Mom needs help, and sliding back toward the main house.
I only make it a few steps, though, before Mom herself emerges with a tray of drinks, trailing a handful more partygoers, the late arrivals. She stops at the sight of the empty pool and tsks in disapproval. “Nobody’s braved the water yet?” she calls out, her voice loud enough to cut through the din. “I thought I made it pretty clear that this was a swimsuits required gathering.”
A few of her friends laugh and protest about the cold outside.
Mom’s having none of it. She sets her tray of drinks on the side table and pulls off her own cover-up. “Nonsense. Since it’s cold outside, that is precisely why we need to take advantage of this decadent oasis.” Her eyes sparkle with mirth as she gestures at my father. “After all, back when my darling husband was just a broke med student living off boxed ramen above my bar, we could only have dreamed of luxury like this.” Her favorite stories all start with “when we were poor med students.” It’s like she has some kind of nostalgia for her broke days.
Then again, thinking about my times in nursing school with my friends, caffeinating each other through our exams, piling into our tiny studio apartments to swap notes and study… I can almost understand it. Med school was a simpler time for Dad, before he had to make decisions like the ones he does now. Back when they had more time for each other.
Done with her speech, my mother dives into the deep end of the pool, in a perfect arc that would make even Michael Phelps jealous.
A couple people even clap. I just watch, amused, aware of what’s coming. My father leaps into the pool next, summoned as he was by mother’s wave. He’s wearing swim trunks and his T-shirt still, and unlike her, he actually cannonballs in, making a huge splash. A few partygoers squeal.
But this is just how they are together. It’s the only time I can stand my dad, most of the time. Mom pops up to bow, and Dad splashes her. Which only gets her going. I watch the two of them goofing off, while a few of the other guests dutifully peel off coverups or jeans to reveal that they did in fact wear bathing suits after all. Guess I’m not the only one who knows my mother well.
I’m still watching the splash-fest when a warm hand comes to rest at the small of my back, setting off fireworks
in my veins that stretch all the way down to my fingertips, tingle in my toes.
“Please tell me you’re wearing a bathing suit under that slip,” he murmurs. “I was really looking forward to seeing more of you tonight.” His breath is hot, right beside my cheek. He smells amazing, like mint and wood smoke and a hint of citrus from the drink in his hand. It makes my toes curl. I lean into him without even thinking about it.
“Show you mine if you show me yours,” I reply with a pointed glance at his outfit. Jeans and a T-shirt? Not exactly swimwear ready.
His eyes sparkle with amusement when he catches me looking him over. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m willing to reciprocate. But first…” Without warning, he bends and sweeps one strong arm under my knees, the other landing around my shoulders.
I let out a squeal when he picks me up in his arms. My drink splashes my arm until I reach out to set it on a table, struggling to escape from Russ’s grasp at the same time.
“Oh, no. It’s into the pool for you,” he says, louder now, so others can hear it. From somewhere in the background, I hear my mother cheering in approval.
But I have eyes only for Russ. For the way his gaze sears through me, devouring every detail of me.
I kick feebly as he walks toward the pool, carrying me as if I weigh nothing at all. Like I’m lighter than a feather. “No fair!” I call out. “At least let me take my shift off.”
“No phones in your pockets?” he asks, one eyebrow lifted, amusement glittering on his face.
“If I told you yes, would you set me back down?” I ask, unable to keep from grinning in spite of myself.