Swelter

by Nina G. Jones

“Come here,” Rory said, tugging me forward by the chin to kiss me on the lips. Then he did it again, and again. And then he was kissing me like he could swallow me.

  I tried. I tried to pretend like the passion was there. That I wanted his hands on my breasts and up my skirt. But even when I liked Rory, he just felt like a good friend to me. And I was scared to admit, something of a brother.

  We ended up in the backseat. Me on my back, Rory pumping into me. All I could think of was how I wanted it to be over. How sex never felt like this with Bobby. A chore. Something I was purely obligated to do. That my body was somehow possessed by him to do with whatever he pleased. I was tired of using my body as a peace offering with Rory. I was tired of being afraid to hurt his feelings by telling him I didn't want him inside of me.

  I couldn't go back after those two weeks. Rory sweating on top of me in this steaming hot car began to make me feel sick. Because I was being a coward. There was no grey area. I did not want to have sex with him. Not even after the moment we had shared.

  “Stop,” I murmured.

  “It's okay,” I'm almost there, he grunted.

  “No, stop,” I repeated.

  “Lil, just wait,” he ordered breathlessly.

  “I said stop!” I pushed him off of me. He got up on his knees and slammed his head into the ceiling of the car, his erection pumping semen all over his hands as he tried to catch it. I sensed relief when I saw that he didn't come inside of me.

  “God dammit, Lilly! What the hell is wrong with you?” He snapped as he rubbed his head with his available hand.

  I didn't have an answer. Not one that would make sense to him. Not one I was ready to confess.

  “If you had waited another fifteen seconds, I would have been finished!” Rory yanked a handkerchief from his pocket and began wiping his palm. He knelt in front of me, his face contorted in desperation. “What is going on? Please just tell me. What do I have to do to get you to want me, Lilly?” he asked, exasperated. “It's like I repulse you, or . . . I don't know. I’m trying here. I really am. But it's like you look right through me, Lilly.”

  It hurt to hear the pain in his voice. I felt Rory trying to reach through the thick wall of resentment to grab my hand. At least in his own way. But telling him the truth would hurt him more. “I'm just not in the mood.”

  “No, it's not just that. You have me here with my dick in my hands in a damned parking lot.” He sighed in frustration. “Do you even love me?”

  “Yes, of course I do,” I said.

  “Then what?”

  “I don't know! I don't know! I just didn't want to do it.”

  “I'm lost here Lilly. Just tell me what I need to do,” he begged.

  I scrunched my eyes as a rogue tear escaped. “I just want to go home, okay? We'll talk about it later. Let me get you another handkerchief.”

  “I got it,” Rory retorted, kneading the soiled one against his palm. It didn't feel good to dismiss him like the countless times he had dismissed me when I tried to talk to him about my needs. But I really had no answers for him. I did love him when I married him. It wasn't like how I loved Bobby, but something was there. I thought I could have been comfortable with him. I thought we could have a family and be good parents. And I can't point to the exact moment where I lost it, but it was gone. And despite all that, I didn't have the heart to say those words to him.

  I thought there would be a lot of tension at the cookout, but things were too busy for me to harp on the events of the night before.

  Barbie came early to help set up and apologize. I told her it was water under the bridge. It was. I said what I had to say and I honestly didn't care enough about Stan to hold a grudge.

  Rory stayed at his throne, the grill, for the majority of the party. Children ran circles around the adults, as ladies in breezy sundresses fanned themselves in the record-high heat. At the lake house, there had been a nice lull in the heatwave, plus the lake is always a bit cooler. But almost as soon as Bobby and I returned, a new wave came back, peaking in time for the holiday weekend.

  Strangely, Bobby and I didn't cross paths much during the gathering. Sure we saw each other, but we couldn't be who we wanted to be to each other. It was peculiar. Almost as if the two weeks at the lake were a dream I had mistaken for reality. But the way I felt about him remained. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him as he chatted with various neighbors, led the children in some games, and assisted Rory at the grill.

  Sometimes we would catch each other's eyes, but it felt as if everyone could feel the spark between us, so we would snap out of the gaze.

  Here, I was the Lilly Rory knew. The one mostly cold towards his brother, and at other times indifferent.

  As the sun began to set, Rory whistled to get the crowd's attention.

  “I uh, want to make an announcement,” he said.

  The guests looked around, as did I. I had no idea what he was planning to announce.

  “Lilly, come over here,” he gestured with the beer in his hand. “She doesn't know either,” he hinted, delighted.

  “What's this about?” I whispered as he put his arm around my shoulder.

  “So some of you may or may not know, but I have been working really hard towards a promotion at Generate for the Lead Sales Associate in the state of Wisconsin. Well . . . I didn't get it,” he admitted.

  Everyone looked around quizzically.

  “I got the Regional Sales Director Position!” he shouted. “. . . In Minneapolis!”

  “Wuh . . .?” I could barely connect the dots. How could he do this? Did he even consider this might not be something I wanted? A move out of my home state? But the truth was Rory didn't consider me. Maybe that was my fault to a degree, for allowing it to happen, for detaching myself emotionally so that he learned to stop caring about my feelings.

  The crowd clapped and cheered at this announcement, and I put on my best fake smile, wrapping my arms around his waist as he kissed me on the temple. I glanced at Bobby who stood at the back of the gathering. His face grew solemn and he walked off.

  “We'll talk more later, okay? I have to tend to these meats.”

  “When did you find out?” I asked.

  “Tentatively on Friday. But the boss called the house this morning to finalize. He didn't want to keep me hanging and they want to move quickly.”

  “Wow.” Shock usurped any other emotion at the moment. But I knew this would be another brick of tension in the invisible wall between us. I wouldn't be so accepting of the news when droves of neighbors weren't in earshot.

  “Rory! Congrats!” Paul Simmons from across the street waltzed into our conversation.

  I tugged Rory away for a moment. “I'm going to rest upstairs for a bit. I have a headache from the heat I think. If anyone asks, don't tell them. I just need fifteen minutes or so away from the fuss.”

  “You want me to check in?” he asked. “You might miss the fireworks.”

  It worked out that the fireworks would start soon. The entire neighborhood spilled onto the street and down by Barbie's house for a better view. I hoped I could have the house to myself. “No, if I end up napping, I don't want to be disturbed. I'd rather sleep it off. I'll set my own alarm. Plus, one of us needs to be out here anyway.”

  “Okay. You sure you're alright?”

  “Yes,” I insisted. “I swear. I just think I am dehydrated.”

  Another neighbor, Ted, interjected himself. “Rory, poker night won't be the same without you.”

  I used that as my cue to exit, hoping Bobby hadn't escaped too far. We didn't have plans, but moving was something I never anticipated. Just like when my sister walked in on our pre-wedding scheming, this development was sobering.

  I walked into the house, looking through the first level, hoping I would find Bobby, but he wasn't there. I went upstairs, and it was empty. I looked out the window, to see if maybe he joined the chatting crowd again, but I didn't see him.

  I didn't know what my plan was, but I felt like I neede
d to speak to him. Just two days of faking it was eating me from the inside out. I couldn't let him think I was so easily accepting my fate with Rory. I clung to the window curtain, like a prisoner fantasizing about the outside world.

  “Tired of the crowd?” a throaty voice asked from behind. I spun to see Bobby's dark silhouette in the doorway to my bedroom.

  “I was looking for you. I looked everywhere.”

  “Yeah, well I didn't want to be found for a while,” he replied. One of his fits of silence.

  The muted sounds of chatter died down further. I glanced back out the window, the procession towards the fireworks had already begun.

  “They're leaving to watch the fireworks. Are you going?” I asked.

  “Let them go,” he said. Bobby wasn't playful. He wasn't carefree. This was the rare Bobby who burned with an intensity that could melt iron.

  I sighed in frustration, deciding to take a risk. I grabbed Bobby by the forearm and pulled him into the room, locking the door behind him.

  “I didn't know, I swear,” I said.

  “I never said I thought you did.”

  “Are you upset with me?” I asked.

  “Upset with you?” he paced around the room. “No . . . no . . .” He almost chuckled. “I'm not upset with you, Lil. I want you. All the goddamned time. I am sick of sharing you. I am sick of lying to my brother. I am sick of accepting that I can't have you. I have been patient, Lil. I have sat on the sidelines. And I thought the stinging would dull, but pain like this never gets easier. I have to relieve it every day. Seeing you. Not being able to reach out and touch you when I want. Not say the things I want to say. Hear you're moving because another man made that choice for you. I love my brother, but you deserve better. He's not the person you married.” Bobby's face was red with pent up anger.

  “Having those two weeks wasn't enough, Lil. It's like the stinging stopped and I knew what it was like not to live with that pain. I haven't felt that since I can remember. I have wanted you my entire life and there was always a reason I couldn't have you. There's always been an ache. And I have room to spare on one hand the times I had a chance to make the ache stop.”

  “They weren't enough for me either.”

  The screaming of the first firework blared through the window, soon followed by the muffled sound of an explosion.

  “I'm done, Lil. I can't do this.” He turned to walk away. “Either I have all of you, or none. But I won't torture us both any longer.”

  “Don't!” I grabbed his forearm. “Don't, please.”

  He grimaced as if my grip smarted, but it wasn't a physical pain. “Lil. Don't do this. I promised myself not here. Not in his house.”

  A collection of blasts vibrated the walls as a kaleidoscope of colors flickered through the window sheer, illuminating Bobby's face.

  “Bobby, I need you. I love you. So bad. I still lie in bed and fantasize about you, only you're in the next room. I resist everything in my being not to sneak out and climb on top of you while you're sleeping.”

  His body eased under the spell of my words. I took his hand and lifted my skirt, gently guiding it towards the moisture between my legs. “This is what you do to me, Bobby. Rory never could.”

  A firework howled in the distance. Red light flickered along Bobby's clenched face as he tried to exert any remaining will he had left.

  “Bobby, please,” I begged.

  His fingers curled against the plump wetness between my thighs, and just like the fireworks outside the window, he exploded, grabbing my arm and yanking me towards him.

  “Dammit, Lil,” he growled, crashing his lips against mine. His fingers slid inside of me.

  “Is this what you want, Lil? You want me to screw you in my brother's bedroom?” he asked angrily.

  “Yes. I just want you. Anywhere. All the time,” I choked out.

  Another firework screeched, then popped.

  He pulled me to the vanity and pushed me onto it, facing away from him. “You're going to face this, Lil. You're not going to close your eyes and escape the wrong we're doing.” He ripped up the skirt of my dress, yanked the panties down, and pressed into me. It wasn't gentle. A cluster of fireworks pattered as I let out a cry when he pushed his entire length into me.

  “They'll hear us.” I pleaded.

  “I don't care anymore, Lil. I really fucking don't. Let them.” I knew how he felt, it was exactly how I did on my wedding day.

  He braced my neck, wrapping his long fingers along the nape, making me watch in the dark mirror, as he slid in and out of me. I could barely focus on the sight as the unrelenting tightness of his angry erection inside of me stole all of my faculties. Bobby yanked down the top of my dress, kneading my breast with his hand.

  “You feel so good, Lil,” he grunted into my ear, as he nipped along my shoulder and neck. His warm breath and stubble brushed against my skin, leaving a scorched trail of tingles wherever his lips traveled.

  A scattering of gentle pops accompanied by gold sparkles reflected on the mirror, raining along our shadowed faces.

  “Bobby, harder,” I begged. I wanted to feel pain. I wanted to be punished for the filthy act I was committing. I wanted to drown out the voices of doubt. To snuff the fear. I needed to only feel Bobby's shaft grinding inside of me, his slick chest pressed against my back, the sultry gusts of his breath tickling my hairline as he panted.

  “Lil, it'll never be enough,” he protested through a tightened jaw. “I want it all,” he demanded.

  “Have it, Bobby. Take it,” I whimpered. The trinkets hopped in unison on the dresser with each violent entry.

  Like tribal drumbeats, the fireworks boomed in rapid succession. Unrelenting. Deafening. As maniacal and crazed as Bobby. I wailed as he stiffened inside of me, pumping himself, marking me like a territorial beast in his another man's den. I collapsed onto the vanity, full of Bobby, but still not sated.

  A rainbow of colors flickered throughout the room. The beating of the fireworks had not stopped and to my shock neither did Bobby. He turned me over, still in a rage, and hoisted me up on the vanity as I held on, stunned. He dropped to his knees, like a subjugate vowing his fealty to a queen.

  He propped my thighs along his shoulders and pressed his mouth against me. Suckling the tenderness, rolling his tongue inside and along the engorged, ripe arousal. Tasting the mixture of our sex on his lips. Tasting the forbidden fruit of our union. And though he was greedy, though he was like a starved man feasting on the freshest nectar, he was sensual. His lips and tongue moving slowly, deeply, attentively.

  Like the breath was vacuumed brutally out of my lungs, I sucked in air frantically.

  The finale, in its final throes of glory, masked my sobs of pleasure as I convulsed around the seal of his lips on my mound. Reds. Blues. Purples. Silvers. Golds. Whistling. Popping. Screeching. The room filled with sounds and colors against the backdrop of shadows. Bobby held my thighs down, forcing me to experience the intensity of the shockwaves that emanated from his mouth.

  I rested back on the mirror, still reaching for air, feeling like liquid held together by skin.

  Bobby stood up, and wiped the creamy juices that glimmered on his lips before kissing me. I could still taste us on his pout.

  He rested his head against my chest as I cradled it. The built up frustration had finally released, and he was back to himself. “Lil, I'm becoming someone I don't want to be,” he lamented. “The way I feel about you is making me mad. It's why I left years ago. I don't want to become ugly and bitter. But I'm a man. And if I can't have you the way I want . . . it'll turn me into someone I don't like.”

  I brushed his hair with my fingers. “Please don't give up on us,” I begged. “Just give me some time. I just heard the news. Give me some time to figure all this out, okay? I don't want to be this person either.”

  Bobby and I were good people.

  And yet here we were, wrapped in each other's arms in my husband's—his brother's—bedroom, risking anyone findi
ng us. We were becoming desperate. Love was making us hysterical.

  He stood up and straightened himself out. “The fireworks are over. I have to go.”

  I nodded, feeling ice crystalize through my veins as the heat from his body departed from my skin. Knowing, at least for now, we would have to go back to pretending. I didn't know how much longer it could last like this, but I still didn't know how I could muster up the strength to leave. And I didn't think Bobby was quite ready to lose his brother as much as he protested our current situation.

  In reaching for heaven, we had created a new hell for ourselves.

  Bobby slipped out of the room as I stayed behind, cleaning up the mess we had made. Once I had finished, and the murmurs of the crowd returned to the backyard, I stepped out of the room.

  Barbie was walking down the hallway.

  “Lilly,” she called.

  I wondered how long she had been in the house. Did she see Bobby come downstairs? I bluffed until I could find out why she was up here.

  “Rory's a bit sauced,” she said.

  “Oh no, did he do anything stupid?”

  “No, but I thought you should know. I know he's been dry lately. What are you doing up here?” she asked. “I was looking for you at the fireworks crowd before I realized you must not have come along.”

  “I had a headache. The last thing I needed was flashing lights and loud noises.”

  “Awww, come on, let me fix something up for that.”

  She was being especially kind after my blowup at Stan, who was floating around the party, but hadn't really spoken to me.

  “Why don't you start, and I'll head down in a minute?” I felt ambushed and needed another minute alone.

  “Okay.” She headed down the stairs but stopped midway. “Are you sure everything is okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Promise. I guess news of the move has me a bit frazzled.”

  “Okay,” she said skeptically before leaving.

  I ran back into the bedroom, a sudden and inexplicable rush of emotion hitting me, and sobbed.

  As I wrapped up the dishes, Rory came into the house with the last of the items he needed to bring in from outdoors. I was seething now that the shock of Rory's announcement had worn off. Even Bobby said his brother was wrong. This wasn't just me holding onto some residual resentment towards Rory. His announcing our move without even telling me was wrong on its own merits.