by A. J. Downey
“Hey.” He pressed a hand to the side of my head and pressed my temple to his lips. I closed my eyes, weak against that kind of attention. A forehead kiss got me every time. No matter what, a forehead kiss and an ‘I’m sorry’ could get a guy out of trouble with me every time. I was such a sucker for it. Temple and forehead kisses for no reason, like Poe was prone to handing out like candy, just had me swooning for his fine ass that much harder.
I was catching myself all too often dreaming about what a ‘forever’ with him would look like and it honestly scared me how much I wanted it. I mean, I wanted it so bad I could taste it.
“What do you want for Christmas?” he asked me casually and I smiled.
“I don’t need anything,” I murmured. “Everything I think I have ever wanted I have right here and right now; with you.”
He held me tighter and the sigh that emanated from him was one of the purest sounds of contentment I think I’d ever heard.
“I want to buy a house,” he said out of the blue sometime later. “With you.”
“What?” I sat up, pushing off of his chest so I could look him in the eye.
“I mean it,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about it. Something close enough to catch transit into the downtown core. So you can keep doing what you do.”
I swallowed hard, hardly believing I was hearing what I was hearing.
“I’ve always been solid on buying a place of my own,” he said. “I have a sizeable down payment and let’s face it, this place isn’t big enough. It’s alright for now, but I really want to think about a future… with you.”
“Are you asking me to marry you?” I asked, startled.
He smiled slow and sweet. “Not yet. I’ll have a ring or get down on one knee when I get around to that. Why? Does it shock you that I’ve been thinking about this at all?”
“Yeah,” I said honestly, resting my hand on the center of his chest gently. “It’s been a really long time since I last thought past my next meal let alone getting through the next day – I’ve never really thought about life beyond any of that, you know? About years from now… I guess the future has always been this distant thing, not really real…” until now, I wanted to say but at the same time I was so afraid to say it. I laid back down, my head on his shoulder and he chuckled.
“Until now,” he said kindly, a very echo of what I’d been thinking.
“I-I-guess,” I stammered, throat growing thick with tears that threatened to spill.
“You don’t sound so sure,” he murmured and rubbed the back of my neck, pinching and kneading the muscles at the base of my skull.
“Maybe I’m just a little bit in shock.”
“That’s okay,” he whispered. “Take your time and think about it. No matter what, though, I’d like you to help me pick a place.”
“For us?” I asked, still hardly willing to believe it.
“For us,” he agreed. “A house, for us to live in, to make into a home.”
“I’ve never shopped for anything as big as a house before.”
He chuckled again as he could tell I was warming up to the idea.
“First thing’s first,” he said. “We gotta decide our budget and find a real estate agent.”
“You’re really serious,” I said, and my shock was giving way to joy.
“I’m really serious, babe.”
Holy shit…
“Can we just get through meeting your family first?” I asked.
“You sound afraid,” he murmured, pressing his lips to my hair, breathing me in and sighing out.
“I mean, I am. What if they don’t like me?” I asked.
“I don’t need them to,” he said simply. “I mean, they’re my family so obviously I want them to like you, but I really don’t need them to because honestly, as much as I love them, my dad is a flawed individual and my mom? She goes right along with whatever Dad says and tries to smooth things over to keep him happy.”
“And your sister?”
He chuckled. “The disgraced one for the most part. She’s divorced, two kids, two boys, actually. Five and two. To be honest, it might be nice to take some of the heat off of her for once.”
“The heat?” I asked, looking up.
“Yeah, my dad actually liked my brother-in-law. Honestly, Trish and I kind of feel like he would have swapped the both of us for the guy given half a chance.”
“Gross,” I muttered.
“Like I said, my family’s not perfect by any means and I don’t need them to like you, not when I love you like I do, just the way you are.”
His words stilled the breath in my lungs, and I pushed up off of him so I could gaze down into his eyes.
“You trying to get laid again?” I asked to break the sudden tension that was probably wholly of my imagination. Or, really, just internal. I really sucked at dealing with my feelings. Especially the more intense ones; and Poe? He brought out a lot of intense feelings.
He laughed and raised his eyebrows. “Maybe. Did it work?”
I sat up onto my knees and flung a leg over his hips, straddling him. He didn’t miss a beat, smoothing his hands over my skin, letting them travel up my body to cradle my small tits. I gyrated, rubbing my pussy lips along his hardening length.
“Mmm,” he hummed out appreciatively.
“Now, let’s start with your sister,” I murmured and he groaned.
“Seriously?” he demanded.
“Seriously!” I cried and he sat up, capturing me, his arms around me as he turned us, me shrieking, him laughing, to press me into his bed.
He silenced my giggles with his mouth on mine, grinding against me, teasing me with his cock which despite bringing up his sister had remained hard.
“Can we table this discussion until tomorrow morning?” he asked gruffly, gently biting along the side of my neck in the way that made me gasp and want to give him the very stars from the sky if only he would continue.
“Deal,” I whispered, breathily.
He made this darkling little growl of victory and kissed my skin which heated to branding-iron hot beneath his touch.
I was no shrinking violet when it came to sex with Poe. No way. I adored him too much for that. So I twined my arms around his shoulders, buried my fingers in his sable soft brown hair, and arched, pressing my flesh further against his lips, into his mouth, inviting him to devour me if he so chose.
It didn’t take him long to work me up. Hell, we’d barely come down from our last love-making session.
Each touch, each kiss, each nibble from his teeth and blush of warm air from his breath did things to wake nerve endings I hadn’t even realized I’d had until I’d met him.
“Hmm, baby, I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he promised in a whisper against my ribs as he worked his way lower.
“Put a condom on,” I whispered and it was half begging and half a command.
“Now?” he asked, a teasing edge to his voice. “But I’m just getting started.”
“Nuh-uh, fuck that,” I declared. “I want you inside me now.”
He laughed and sat up, reaching over to the bedside table. I scooted back, kneeling up and took the condom from him when he turned back around.
“Lie down,” I ordered. “It’s my turn to do all the work.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, and his arousal was clear.
He laid down, hands behind his head, and I wasted no time in straddling him once more, his cock between us, long and thick, veins standing out with how turgid he was.
I tore open the condom wrapper at its little notch to make opening it easier and took the slick, rubbery disc between my fingers. I slid it onto him, slow and sensual, watching his eyes and the desire flare in them as his mouth dropped open and he gave this little ‘ah’ like it was almost too much having my hands on him.
“Hmm, yeah, baby, c’mere,” he whispered when I kneeled up to take him inside me, walking forward half a pace on my knees to line him up with my entrance, pressing him
against my pussy which was slick with fresh arousal.
I made eye contact with him as I slid down his length and the things that were silently communicated between us were beautiful.
Making love to Poe was like poetry or music. Beautiful music, the notes soft, the melody gentle. The cadence and rhythm set were ones that we could dance to all night and past dawn, the golden glow of sunlight a mere glimmer on the distant horizon in comparison to the rays of light beginning low in my body, curling through my limbs like a fine mist off the bay.
“Tell me you feel something, anything for me,” he grunted and I stilled for a moment. His words catching me off guard as much as the desperation in his voice.
“I love you,” I whispered, and the words slipped out much easier than I anticipated they would.
“Yeah?” he whispered back, and I could feel the vulnerability he held in this moment. He was opening up to me like we hadn’t been open to each other just yet and rather than frightening, the way I expected it to be, there was something… comforting about it.
I smiled down at him and captured my bottom lip between my teeth, rolling my hips, moving him inside me. It felt so good, I couldn’t help but throw my head back and gasp for a moment.
“It scares me,” I confessed. “How strongly I feel things when I’m with you. I may not always be good at displaying how I feel, but that’s only when I feel something so deeply, it’s overwhelming.” I bowed my head and whimpered but didn’t stop riding him. I didn’t slow down. I didn’t stop… and it was killing me sweetly, slowly, the fact I was on that razor-thin edge of orgasm.
“Oh, God,” he moaned and I could tell he was close too.
“I love everything about you,” I whispered. “Your kindness, your generosity, your protection, how you touch me, how you kiss me, how you hold me when I need it without me even having to ask. You complete me and that scares me so much.” I bit my lips together, afraid I was babbling.
We dissolved into panting breaths and dew-slicked skins, his hands gripping my hips, thumbs smoothing over my skin as he urged me to change angles just so and oh my God! It was like he had unlocked a door and all the good things I kept hidden and locked away behind it came spilling out, rushing through me, lifting me high on a tide of bliss and just plain feel good.
I gazed down at Jeremy Poe and I could tell he was along for the ride, both of us glowing, both of us luminous, eyes bright as we gazed at each other through muted candlelight.
Coming was like an out-of-body experience. Like we both diffused into the flickering fire of the candle’s flames, diffused into beings of light ourselves and I didn’t ever want to go back to the dark.
17
Poe…
“What about this one?” she asked and tilted her phone in my direction as we shivered on the sidewalk outside our apartment.
“What’s the square footage?” I asked.
“Twelve hundred,” she answered.
“What is that? Two-bedroom, one bath?”
I shifted in my boots, a box of Christmas gifts for my family in my arms, Saylor’s backpack loaded on her back. She was crazy. Had insisted on wrapping everything herself, despite my attempts at short-cutting things and having a gift-wrap person do some of them at the mall. She’d also insisted that they all had to match. Had bought this big roll of brown paper for a dollar at the dollar store and used this twine she’d found from somewhere else as a sort of rustic ribbon. Then she’d decorated every damn package with real tree bits and pine cones. Some she’d glittered to look like they held snow.
She’d spent hours poring over online tutorial videos on creative wrapping and folds and everything had come out totally spectacular, but she really hadn’t needed to go to such effort.
I loved her for it, though. It was just another kind thing she did. She did such amazing things with the small things and didn’t take anything for granted and it was eye opening, charming, and so damn down-to-earth.
She was an angel, she had these glorious wings, yet somehow, she gave me roots.
“Two bedrooms, one-and-a-half bath,” she said after scrolling through the listing.
“Neighborhood?” I asked.
“Uhhhh, Burrington Heights?”
I gave a low whistle. “That’s going to set us back a pretty penny,” I said.
“Listing says it’s within your budget,” she said confused as I looked up the street wondering where the fuck our rideshare guy was. Resisting the urge to check the app, I was starting to wonder if the dude had canceled the ride on us.
“Ohhhh, it’s a fixer upper in need of electrical and plumbing. Never mind.”
“Eh, I got guys for that depending on how much electrical and plumbing it needs,” I declared.
“It’s got a nice open floor plan and windows for light. I think that would be good for you,” she said, scrutinizing the screen of her phone and I chuckled.
“You think so, huh? That neighborhood is pretty well gentrified from what it was before, I think. I’m going to guess that those lots of windows still have bars on ‘em, though.”
“They do, but the outside of the place still looks nice and it has a detached garage in back.” She flashed the picture of the front of the house at me.
Sure enough, bars on the windows, the driveway an overgrown narrow dirt track, leading past the house to a one-car garage thing in the back that looked like the roof was sagging pretty hard. I couldn’t deny the appeal of the place, so it was a hard ‘maybe’. I opened my mouth to tell her as much when the ride I’d ordered turned the corner from the main drag onto our street.
“There’s our ride, I think,” she said before I could, looking up as the Lexus rounded the corner, tucking her phone in her jacket pocket. She’d had a decent winter coat in her car. An old Navy surplus wool peacoat. I’d been glad for it. It was way better than her denim jacket; that was for sure.
“Thank fuck, I was beginning to freeze my balls off,” I declared.
“Fleece-lined leggings, I’m tellin’ yah,” she said and I laughed.
“I got my long johns, there’s no way you’re going to convert me to wearing girly-ass leggings,” I said.
“Uh huh, we’ll see about that,” she said. “Lose a testicle out here and you’ll be begging me for them.”
I threw back my head and laughed as the car pulled up to the curb. She opened up the back door, pulling her arms through her backpack straps so she wouldn’t crush it, and slid into the car first.
“I’m serious!” she declared, reaching for the box I held, and I handed it to her before shrugging out of my cut and getting in behind her.
“Sorry about the delay, folks. Traffic is moving at the speed of snail out there,” the driver declared.
“Aw, it’s alright man. I’d rather get where we’re going safely than quickly.”
“Man, you sound like a cop,” he said laughing.
“Guilty,” Saylor sang out.
We bantered lightly with the driver, a newsstand owner that drove on the side to make ends meet. He was around as old as my dad, which was to say somewhere in his sixties, and was a careful driver despite all his chatter.
Saylor was bright eyed and beautiful, the snow swirling past outside her window as we made our way carefully out of the city and toward the Bay Bridge, headed to my parents.
I’d been shocked when she’d suggested that it was alright to leave her guitar and journal behind. Shocked, and warmed that she trusted me enough to take care of her. That she felt secure enough to come back here and that they would be waiting, right where she’d left them. She’d told me about how she never went anywhere without certain items and the reasoning behind the decision and I could respect that about her.
The fact she’d been willing to make this Christmas Eve trip with me, and that she was willing to leave those items behind for an overnight… that was huge, and I knew how huge it was and it made me feel so… I don’t know, loved? Admired? Trusted? All three?
It was a heady and into
xicating mix, and I was drunk as fuck on Saylor Grace Dresden.
We wound through gridlock, the holiday traffic murder, and I could just feel the cost of this ride racking up. Still, it was either this or the bike and I wasn’t about to risk Saylor and her carefully procured Christmas gifts on the icy streets. That, and I really wasn’t about to risk the bike.
I was no fair-weather rider, but I did have my limits – mostly put in place by the bounds of my own sanity.
“I’m still really nervous,” Saylor declared as the driver pulled up to the curb in front of my parents’ nice suburban retirement home.
“It’s okay to be nervous,” I said. “Just be yourself. You do that, and everything is going to be great.”
“I really hope so,” she said.
“Ah, you’ll do fine, kid!” the driver said, coming to a complete stop.
“Thanks, man,” I said and opened up the door, sliding out carefully onto the icy sidewalk. Dad had salted it, but with how bad the weather had been? It was still dicey as fuck.
Saylor held out the box of gifts and I balanced it on one arm, reaching my other hand down to help her climb to her feet. She hefted her stuffed backpack onto her shoulder and breath pluming the air said, “Ah, we’re expected.”
I looked up to the house at my Mom standing in the front door waving excitedly and crying, “You made it!”
“Of course we did!” I called, shutting the door to our ride with a final wave.
The car crunched over the ice and snow as it carefully lumbered away from the curb, leaving me and Saylor to traverse the rest of the distance to my parents’ front steps.
“You must be Saylor!” my mom cried. “I am so happy to meet you! Please, God, come inside! You must be freezing!”
“Oh, I’m alright!” Saylor declared. “I’ve got fleeced-lined leggings on under my jeans.”
I laughed and shook my head as she went past my mom and I kissed my mom’s cheek on the way by.
“Hey, Ma.”
“We’re so glad you’re here!” she declared, hugging me fiercely.
“Gifts under the tree?” I asked unable to hug her back with my arms loaded by the box as they were.