by S. M. Shade
“He’s a handful, but so was I at his age. Remee was always the good one. I get a call at least every other week from his preschool. Last week he was trying to sell imaginary friends to the other kids in trade for their lunch snacks.”
The kid isn’t just awesome. He’s a genius.
“This week they’re concerned because he hasn’t been playing with the other kids at recess. He just goes to the edge of the play yard and lies in the grass. He’s always been social so I’m not sure what’s going on.”
“What does he say?”
“That he just likes to lie there.”
“Kids are weird sometimes. I used to climb inside a hollowed out tree and pretend to be a Keebler Elf.”
Rachel laughs and covers her mouth, sitting back to give the waitress space to set down our pizza. “Please tell me Remee knows that story.”
“Strangely, it hasn’t come up.”
Remee must’ve seen them deliver our food because she returns with Colby. He clambers into the booth next to his mom, and Remee slides in next to me. “Are you having fun?” Rachel asks, sliding a slice of pizza onto his plate.
“Uh-huh. Can Aunt Remee come live with us? She can stay with me while you work.”
Rachel grins at Remee before answering her son. “Aunt Remee goes to school like you do.”
Remee smiles at him. “I have to go home tonight, but I promise I’ll visit again, and we can video chat if it’s okay with your mom.”
“Of course you can,” Rachel says.
Considering what I’ve learned about her family and upbringing, I’m so happy to see how much her sister and nephew want a relationship with her. It makes me realize how lucky I’ve always been to have such a loving family. We don’t talk enough since me and my two older brothers have left for school and jobs. I need to visit before school starts.
“I used to video chat with my girlfriend,” Colby says, through a mouthful of pizza. He looks at me. “Is Aunt Remee your girlfriend?”
“Yes she is. What’s your girlfriend’s name?”
Colby shrugs. “Penny. But she’s not my girlfriend anymore. I don’t like her because she’s stupid and a tattletale.”
Rachel gives him a disapproving look. “It’s not nice to call people stupid.”
“She is, though! She told Ms. Jill that I said the B word but asshole don’t even start with B.”
“Colby,” Rachel groans, covering her face with her palm while I try to choke to death on the soft drink in my throat.
“What? It doesn’t.”
“Just…eat.”
After we’ve eaten, I take Colby to go play while Remee hangs out with her sister. “What do you want to do?”
“Ball pit!” he cries.
“Oh, we’re going to get along good.”
Chapter Twenty
Remee
“He seems really great,” Rachel says, watching Owen walk away with Colby. “Did you guys work things out?”
“Yes. I’m still nervous about being in a relationship, but I don’t want to be without him, you know?”
Smiling, she sits back. “I do.”
“I hate that I need to leave when we’ve just found each other again, but I meant what I said. Two hours isn’t that far, and I’ll visit as much as I can. Maybe you two can come to visit me too? There’s a playground across from my apartment, and I’d love for you to meet my roommates. We’re all close. They’d love Colby to bits.”
“Maybe for Thanksgiving or Christmas,” she suggests, looking thoughtful.
“I’d love that.”
The time passes quickly as we talk, with so much to catch up on, we could talk for weeks straight without a pause. It’s late in the evening and the place is starting to clear out when Owen and Colby return. Poor kid looks worn out. No doubt I look that way trying to keep up with Owen sometimes.
“It’s about time to go,” Rachel tells him.
“Okay. Owen got in trouble. He can’t go in the ball pit no more anyway.”
“You little rat,” Owen grumbles, making him giggle. “No wonder you’re named after cheese.”
“What did you do?” I ask
Owen holds up his hands. “Nothing!”
“Yuh-huh!” Colby cries, giggling his head off.
“Who are you going to believe? Me, or a four year old?”
“What did he do, Colby?”
“He climbed way up and did a cannonball, and balls flew everywhere! It was so cool! Then the man came and said he had to leave.”
Owen shakes his head, and reaches over to cover Colby’s ears. “Rachel, don’t take this personally, but you’re raising a snitch.”
On our way out, we stop at the counter for Colby to cash in his game tickets. While he’s perusing the plastic prizes, Owen steps between Rachel and me, speaking in a low voice. “I asked Colby why he lays in the play yard at school. He’s pretending to be dead to attract a carrion bird so he can keep it for a pet. He doesn’t want you to know because you won’t let him have a pet bird. So you didn’t hear it from me.”
“I love him,” I say, covering my mouth to stifle a laugh.
It’s hard to say goodbye to them already, and tears fill my eyes when we all hug goodbye in the parking lot. Owen and I drove to the restaurant separately so we could head straight home from here. He plans to drop his stuff off at his place then come over to mine.
Happiness grows in my chest the whole drive home as I let myself think about the last couple of days. Things changed so fast. I went from being miserable and broken hearted to being in a loving relationship. A half dreaded visit to my mom turned into reuniting with my sister and gaining a nephew. Family.
I can’t wait to tell Serena, Zara, and Kelly everything.
After this long living on Violent Circle, I shouldn’t be surprised by anything, but I still didn’t expect to see a firetruck with lights flashing to be parked in the center of a crowd of neighbors. It takes me a moment to guide my car around the edge of the gathering, and park outside my apartment.
Serena, Kelly, and Zara sit on the steps. My gaze follows theirs across the street and –oh my god someone’s on the roof of the laundry room.
“Welcome home,” Kelly says.
“Just another Saturday night?” I chuckle, sitting beside her. In the dimness of the streetlight, I’m not sure I’m seeing what I think I am. “Who’s that?”
“No idea. Not from the circle,” Serena says.
“How did she get up there?”
“Maintenance left a ladder propped against the building when they were patching the roof earlier. I saw her climb up. She keeps getting close to the edge when anyone tries to go up after her. They’ve been trying to reason with her.” A flood light clicks on, illuminating the roof. “It’s not going well.”
You could say that. It’s the first look I get at the woman. She’s heavyset with short hair, not someone that would stand out as odd on the street if it weren’t for what she’s wearing.
“What the hell?”
The woman’s large breasts are stuffed into a tiny bikini top that looks about to burst, and the bottoms are screaming at the seams as well. It’s clearly meant for a child. As are the inflatable water wings fastened around her arms.
“She thinks she’s in a pool,” Zara says.
“This has got to be a drug thing,” I remark, watching as she walks around the roof moving her arms like she’s swimming.
“Mitch knows her. He said she does Spice. A lot.”
I’ve never understood why people smoke synthetic weed. It’s nothing like the real stuff and it’s not hard to find decent weed here. So many people hallucinate and freak out on it. “That’ll do it.”
Serena points out how close she keeps getting to the power lines that cross right above the roof. “She’s going to get electrocuted if they don’t hurry up and grab her.”
The first responders haven’t failed to notice, and the street goes dark except for their floodlight. They’ve cut the power to the
whole neighborhood.
My phone buzzes with a text from Owen
Owen: You get home okay?
I respond by sending a picture of the laundry room with the woman clearly in view.
Owen: That’s methed up.
I’m sure he isn’t shocked. We’ve all seen our share of people freaking out under the influence.
Me: The power is out.
A gasp from the crowd makes me look up. They turned the power off just in time. She leaps from the edge and grabs the power line like she plans to zip line down. It snaps, and she falls back onto the roof where she’s grabbed and restrained by two police officers.
“Power won’t be back on anytime soon,” Zara remarks when we watch the line dangle down to the ground. My phone buzzes again.
Owen: Want to stay with me instead?
Seems like a better idea.
Me: I’ll be over in a bit.
Owen: Bring the others. We can all hang out.
The girls are cool with that plan. We have to wait a few minutes for the fire trucks and cop cars to leave before we can get our cars out.
It’s the first time we’ve all been together in a while and everyone is in a good mood. The guys have a fridge full of beer, and we end up sitting around the living room, playing video games. Marty isn’t allowed to drink since he’s had some painkillers, but he’s happy enough on them.
He glances over to where I sit cuddled with Owen in a double sized recliner, then shakes his head. “Man, I’m sorry. Even after seeing it with my own eyes, I just can’t picture you two fucking.”
He dodges the nearby empty water bottle I chuck at him. “Don’t imagine it! Pervert.”
“Excuse me, Ms. Dominatrix. Those who live in kinky houses shouldn’t throw water bottles.”
“What the hell does that even mean?”
“It means those pills are kicking his ass,” Graham says.
“Hey, I’m glad Remee finally came around,” Marty says, then tosses the empty bottle across the room into Zara’s lap. “Zara, when are you going to admit you want me?”
Zara shudders. “My vagina just hid behind the couch.”
“You know I’d ruin you for all other men.”
“I don’t doubt that. It’s hard to get laid with an STD.”
While they go back and forth, I lean to whisper in Owen’s ear. “Did you keep the toys we bought?”
His grin is wicked as he nods.
“Good.” Those paintbrushes are something I’d love to revisit. I’ve lost track of the conversation which has seemingly turned to how bad Marty probably is in bed.
“I bet you have sex to live albums to get applause,” Zara accuses.
Graham laughs and glances at Marty “He did ask the Alexa to call him Daddy.”
“Says the man who never gets laid,” Marty retorts. “You can’t even tell when a woman is hitting on you. She could throw her bra at you and you’d be like, ‘Excuse me, ma’am, you dropped this’.”
Marty shifts around on the couch. It must be hard to get comfortable with that big cast. “Women act like men are the only ones who could be bad at sex. I’ve had more than one chick try to rip my dick out of its socket during a hand job.”
“I have to back Marty up on this,” Graham says. “It’s not tug of war.”
Serena rolls her eyes. “Well, you don’t need to slap a vagina like a used car salesman trying to sell a ‘99 Camry either.”
Owen’s arms wrap tighter around me, and it strikes me how happy I am at this moment. Just being with him and listening to our friends tease each other. We have a few weeks before school starts, and Owen’s job at the financial aid office won’t start until then either. Idle time usually makes me anxious but all I can think of is how much I’m going to love spending it with him.
It only takes one beer for me before I start yawning and Owen kisses my temple. “I’m tired too. Let’s go to bed.” We’ve had a long few days and nothing sounds better than crawling into bed with him.
The sound of our friends laughing, talking, and arguing over the video game permeates the walls as we get ready for bed. On my way back from the bathroom, I catch my little toe on the leg of the bedside table and let out a yelp when it gets yanked backward.
God, I hate that! It isn’t broken or anything, but I groan and spend a few seconds rubbing it. A yell comes from the living room.
“Dude, at least wait until everyone leaves! We can hear you!”
Marty is such an ass.
Owen gives me a mischievous grin, then jumps up to stand on the bed. “Don’t tell me when I can please my woman!” He starts jumping up and down, making the bed squeak. The song he sings should erase any thoughts we’re actually doing anything. “You put your penis in. You put your penis out. You put your penis in and you stroke it all about. You do the pokey pokey and you wiggle it around. That’s what it’s all about!”
With the last word, he drops down to the bed and nearly bounces me off of it. I hear someone mutter what sounds like “Poor Remee,” but I can’t tell for sure.
“What do you think?” Owen says. “Encore?”
“I think your Brown Eye song was better.” I snuggle into his arms. “Speaking of that, I’ll have the house to myself tomorrow and I thought maybe we could…try it.”
His body tenses, and he looks down at me. “Seriously?”
Shrugging, I feel my face heat up.
“I don’t want you to if you don’t want to,” he warns.
“I want to. I’m curious.”
“Oh god, it’s like Christmas. How am I going to sleep tonight?”
I’ve never met someone who makes me laugh so much. “Santa doesn’t bring anal.”
I’ve written a check my ass now has to cash and though I’ve spent all morning making sure I’m prepared, I’m nervous. Cleaner than I’ve ever been in my life in certain areas, but nervous. Owen had a few things to take care of since he hasn’t been home in months, but he’ll be here anytime. The girls are all at work. At least I know we won’t have anyone burst in on us this time.
“Woo hoo, let’s do this!” Owen shouts, bursting through the front door of the apartment.
“You’re way too eager.”
He flops down on the couch next to me, tossing a bright pink bag beside him. “I’ve never done it. I finally get to pop my butt cherry. Or your butt cherry. Our butt cherry?”
With my face in my hand, I groan. “Shut up. What’s in the bag?”
“Lube and condoms. Did you know they have lube especially for anal? I’m not sure what makes it different. Maybe it’s just one of those marketing ploys that helps them sell another product, like when they came out with tissues specifically for men. They probably just took the regular stuff and labeled it Bunghole Balm. Just a rip off. If so, I fell for it.”
“That cannot be what it’s called.”
“No, it’s just anal lube, but it’s a better name, isn’t it?”
Owen’s nonsense makes me laugh and sets me at ease, which is probably his goal. Now that we’ve decided what we’re doing, I’m not sure how to get started. It feels awkward. “All right!” He slaps my knee. “Bend over and grab a pillow to bite.”
“I hate you.”
“Nah.” He pulls me onto his lap where I’m straddling him. “You love me. You love me so much it’s ridiculous. You can’t eat or sleep or—”
Kissing him seems to be the best way to shut him up. As always, that’s all it takes for both of us to fall into the space where only the other exists. There are times when we go at each other like animals, desperate and frantic, but this isn’t like that.
We take our time and enjoy each other with hands, lips, and tongues, shedding our clothes on the way to my room. Once we’re in bed, his mouth finds every inch of my skin and brings it to life. His fingers slide inside me, rubbing the spot that drives me crazy.
Our eyes meet when he pulls his fingers out and slides one downward. My breath catches at the sensation of it rubbing against a spo
t only he has ever touched.
“That feels good,” I confess, closing my eyes.
“You feel good,” he replies, moving down to lie between my spread legs. His finger keeps circling until it breaches my hole, and I moan at that unusual feeling.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No.” It doesn’t hurt, not even when I can feel him widening the circles he’s making as he slides it in and out, slowly stretching me.
“This is so fucking hot, Rem. I’ve thought about this so many times.”
His words and the way he’s played my body have me squirming. “Make me come, please.”
I’m gifted with a wicked smile, then his face dips between my legs. As he sucks my clit, he pulls his finger out, then slowly presses two back in. It stings a little, but the pressure of them both in tandem with his mouth on me, sends streaks of pleasure through my body that aren’t quite an orgasm. It’s almost better because it lasts and lasts.
“Owen, ohhhh!” It’s all I can manage before I’m overtaken by the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever experienced. I had no idea it could be like this. My sight blanks to nothing but sparkles that continue behind my eyelids, ringing fills my ears, my entire body quakes, out of my control.
“Christ, baby,” he says in my ear while I try to recover the senses he stole. “I almost came just watching you.”
He grabs the bag and dumps out a black colored tube. My natural lubrication might have been enough for fingers, but not for what’s coming next.
“Roll over on your side,” he directs, and scoots up behind me. He pushes my leg up a little, giving him the access he needs. The lube is a little cold, but it doesn’t feel bad. I wince when he slides his fingers back in, spreading the lube inside me.
I hear the rattle of the condom wrapper, then his lips are leaving kisses on my shoulder. “You ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me to stop if I’m hurting you, Rem.”