by Jamie Hawke
“Aside from a crazy case of OC?” I asked.
She looked at me, confused, and I waved off the comment.
Leaning my head back, closing my eyes, and letting sleep start to take me, I said, “Life couldn’t be more perfect.”
THE END
BOOK 4: Stone Cold Mage
71
I had always envied my aunt in her large house atop a hill, until the day I had to move into it. Leaving my old life behind, my friends, Steph, all of it… fucking sucked. We’d only ever driven by it when staying in D.C., on our way to the cheapest hotels we could find on the southeast side. That had been enough of a taste to tell me I wanted more.
While I was starting school in the fall at Johns Hopkins University, my family didn’t have the money to put me up anywhere in the meantime. Well, when I say my family, I mean my parents, because apparently my aunt was loaded. But that didn’t translate over to my mom and dad, who were on the far side of the spectrum. I mean it—I still remember days spent in the rain of Portland, Oregon, wearing trash bags with holes cut out as we asked for money to catch the bus home. It fucking sucked. So I would look at pictures of Aunt Gertrude’s house and remember the times we’d driven past it the one time we’d gone to D.C. for my dad’s new job—the one that allowed us to move from our ratty apartment to our first townhouse—the way I had asked my parents why we couldn’t stay there, and how they had avoided the question.
Not even invited over once, and their excuse was that Aunt Gertrude liked to keep her place clean, not liking little kids. It wasn’t until much later that I learned she and my mother had both been in love with my father, and that they’d essentially sworn off their relationship.
So it was that I’d never even met her until that hot, muggy day of summer three months before school was supposed to start. Three months, because my father had apparently lost the job he’d come out here to get, so my parents decided they’d be taking that road trip around the U.S. they’d always been talking about.
Essentially, they were homeless and didn’t know what to do with me. There I was, dropped off outside this huge mansion, and staring up at the tall, arched windows with pillars on either side. And at the top, leaning out over the edge and staring down at me… were those gargoyles. I had to laugh, wondering who the fuck built houses with gargoyles. Even more, who bought them? There was no doubt, my aunt wasn’t only crazy rich, she was stupid rich. Why that was and where she got her money was a question neither of my parents could answer, and was something I meant to get to the bottom of during my stay. I was determined to be more like her, less like my parents—in the good sense, anyway.
Hell, even the air smelled richer out here. Pure, like someone had taken bottles of air from some tropical island and dumped them all over this neighborhood. For all I knew, that might’ve happened.
My phone buzzed and I pulled it out to see an image of Steph’s breasts, her text reading: Hop on and show me yours when you get into your room. I can’t be there, but we still have to christen it.
I frowned, glancing back to see my parents still in the car. They waved at me, and I waved back. My text in reply to Steph said: No way am I jacking off my first day in the new house. Especially not on camera. Sorry.
All that got was a sad face emoji, followed by the image of her tits vanishing. Not fair, I thought, not even knowing that you could delete images you sent. Maybe if I could figure it out, I’d send that dick pic she wanted, I thought with a chuckle. The pressure in my pants made standing there awkward, so I had to adjust myself and try not to think about the blowjob she’d given me that morning in her room before I left. Of course, trying to block out the memory made it worse.
I walked up to this huge house, overwhelmed by the curving wrought-iron fence, the white columns leading up to a patio above, and the black lantern hanging in front of the curved doorway. Statues of lions guarded the door on each side, and I had to pause to appreciate their intricate design. No, not lions exactly, I realized. These were the Okinawan ones I had learned about during a trip to a botanical garden that had a section devoted to the islands. Kind of like a lion mixed with dog, one with its mouth open, the other shut. I couldn’t recall all the details, but knew these shisa were meant to be wards that protected from evils.
The door opened without me even ringing the bell, revealing a woman in a black dress with her silver hair done up in a bun.
“Aunt—” I started, only to be interrupted as she cleared her throat.
“Your aunt is out, but will return this evening,” the woman said. “I help out around the house, and will show you to your room. Dinner will be left out for you, and I’ll be on my way.”
“Oh, okay. Thank you, Mrs…?”
“You can call me Fatiha.”
I glanced back to where my parents’ car had been, sighed as I wondered what I was getting myself into, and entered. The inside of the house was even more extravagant than the outside, if that was possible. There was a crisscrossed marble floor, pillars next to a grand staircase lined with deep red carpet, chandeliers hanging from the ceilings, and even candelabras on ledges throughout. The main entryway led off to a sunken living room on one side, while the other led to a dark room where I could barely make out a grand piano. It was as if someone wanted to rub my face in the fact that I had been so poor my whole life.
Rage built up inside my gut, causing my lip to twitch and my hands to ball into fists. How could my mom’s sister live like this, while we had to struggle to survive? The idea that anyone in the world lived like this while so many struggled from one paycheck to the next and had to worry about rent checks clearing bothered me.
“Are you feeling well?” Fatiha asked, and I realized she was already most of the way up the stairs.
“Yes, sorry. Coming.” I snatched at the handle of my suitcase and did my best to catch up.
At the top of the stairs I realized that there was another staircase farther back, but we didn’t go to that one. Instead, we took a hall to the left that led to my room. After a pleasant, “Enjoy your stay,” Fatiha was off.
There I was in this strange house, all by myself. My room looked like how a rich person thought a young man without as much money would have their room decorated, reminding me of something from the Disney channel. It was still twice as nice as any room I had ever slept in, and almost as big as the house I grew up in. The whole house. I set my suitcase next to the four-poster bed, stared at the white fireplace, and shook my head.
The heater turned on, a distant roar that rumbled through the underbelly of the house. Creaks set me on edge. For all I knew, the sounds could be people walking about. I went to the window, watching as Fatiha exited, and frowned. It might have been smart of me to ask if anyone else was in the house, although her earlier statements had led me to believe this wasn’t the case. Still, the sounds of this old place weren’t the type I enjoyed in a situation like this.
Fortunately, I had my parents stop at a falafel cart on the way, so I wasn’t hungry. Otherwise I would have made straight for the dining room to at least have food to occupy my time. Instead, I saw that my room had its own bathroom, so I quickly took a shower. That would help calm the nerves, at least. But it wasn’t enough, so when I stepped out, I leaned against the sink, closed my eyes, and focused. In my mind, I envisioned my nerves as a ball of unraveled string within me, but took that ball and brought it together, forced it to be one, to melt until it was a power source I could pull from.
It worked. But, before you give me any grief about visualization or meditation or whatever you might think of it, I have to tell you something about me—this was what made me special. We’ll get into it later but suffice it to say, I wasn’t like everyone else, even back then. And at the moment, I turned to a tried-and-true way of pulling myself together when I most needed to.
Looking up at myself, I saw this young, confident guy I knew I should always be. Others often told me I reminded them of Marty McFly from Back to the Future, but I was taller
and I liked to think a bit buffer than Marty. Still, I got the resemblance and sometimes played it up, such as with the red jacket I had in the other room. My outfit of choice was basically jeans, a white T-shirt, and the red jacket. I shook out my brown hair so it had that messy ‘I don’t care’ look and tossed my towel over the side of the shower.
I had just pulled on my pants when my phone rang. I was glad to see Steph’s name on the screen.
“Fuck, it’s good to hear your voice,” I said, answering the phone after quickly throwing on a clean shirt from my suitcase.
“Took long enough,” she replied. “All settled in?”
“If… that’s even possible.”
She chuckled. “How about that show, hmm?”
“Steph, it’s not going to happen.” Lowering my voice to make it clear, I added, “I’m not videoing myself jacking off. Sorry.”
She laughed now, and I thought I heard it echoing from outside the phone as well. Frowning, I looked around, and then saw her there, standing outside.
“What… the… fuck.” I went to the glass, staring at her there, perched on the branch outside my second-floor window.
“Thought you could give me the show in person. Maybe I’d get involved.”
I still hadn’t processed what was going on, but when she mimicked opening the window, I got the hint. Hanging up, I quickly opened it, but still didn’t think to move out of the way to let her in.
“Steph, what’re you doing here?”
“You don’t get it, yet? I knew I’d miss you. Knew you weren’t going to send me what I wanted…” Her eyes darted to my crotch, playfully. “So I hopped on the first plane I could find the moment you left. So… what’ya say?”
“Fuck.”
“Fuck?” She scowled. “I fly all the way from Oregon to make sure your first night in this creepy place is amazing, and all you can say is ‘fuck?’”
“I mean, you’re amazing. Damn. I mean…” I finally stepped back, motioning her in.
“You’re inviting me?” she asked.
The question caused a pain in my chest and a chill up my spine, my eyes moving for the door. My aunt had been kind enough to let me stay, and I didn’t want to betray her trust on my first night. Still… this was Steph. What was I going to do, turn her away? My little friend downstairs certainly didn’t want that.
“Just for a bit,” I hissed, motioning her in. “If my aunt comes back and finds you…”
“Wait, she’s not even here? Oh, that’s rich. And what, she’ll kick you out?” Steph climbed in, and only in the light was I able to see the cute outfit she had on. Black leggings or long socks, I don’t know what they’re called, which went up to her mid thighs and left a few inches of bare skin below her black skirt. A peppered brown sweater, her black hair coming down on her left side, wavy, and a tan beanie that didn’t make sense in this humidity. She noticed my gaze and hit me. “Stop staring.”
“Just… trying a new style?”
“Maybe I am. Like it?” She gave a spin, making it clear that my answer was a resounding yes. I fucking loved it.
At my nod, she bit her lip, pushed me back to the bed, and then straddled me. “What should we do?”
“I can think of a thing or two.”
Her hands ran across my chest, moving down to my abs, and then she arched an eyebrow, looking at the door. “Let’s see this place first.”
“What?” I practically hissed.
“Come on, I’ve never been in a house this big. And… you said so yourself, she’s not around, right? She’s out. So… treat a girl.” When she saw that I wasn’t convinced, she leaned down, hand going between our bodies to caress my package. She whispered in my ear, “Maybe we find a special balcony to fuck on while looking out over the city. Hmm? Bend me over the railing, test my ability to not scream your name?”
“In the short amount of time since I left, you must’ve watched a lot of porn or something to get you this worked up.”
She squeezed, playfully.
“Okay, okay,” I said, unable to get the image out of my head of me doing her while the city lights sparkled beneath us. Seeing as I had no idea what my aunt would do if she found out I had a girl in the house, I figured it could be worth it. Maybe. At most, she’d probably give me a warning, since it would be my first—and likely last—time.
Steph giggled and ran off. Halfway up the next set of stairs, she turned, one foot three steps past the other, and looked back. At my angle, I didn’t have a clear view of anything but saw a lot of leg. That was enough.
“Come here, you little tease,” I growled playfully, and took off after her. She let out a giggle and ran off again until I caught her on the next level up, the two of us kissing, until I fell back and hit my head on the edge of a painting’s oversized frame.
“Damn,” I said, turning to see my aunt staring down at me. A painting of my aunt, that is. I actually recognized her, which surprised me since it had been so long. Pictures, I guess.
“That’s her, huh?” Steph stepped up to the image, running a finger along the edge of the woman’s white coat. “Fancy, like the house.”
“Apparently,” I replied, rubbing my head.
She turned back to me, pouted, and took my hand. “Come on, let’s see if she has some frozen peas or something to put on that. Besides, I’m starved.”
“That reminds me, there’s food already made. I was hoping we could… build up an appetite first?”
Steph grinned, winked, and said, “Let’s get you that ice, though.”
“I’m fine, really.”
She hesitated, glanced around, and nodded to a nearby door. My gut said to not go snooping. I hadn’t even had a chance to say hello, and already I was going into rooms I wasn’t sure it was okay for me to be in? But watching Steph’s hips as she led the way, I didn’t feel the choice was really mine.
It was dark in the room, and as soon as we were in, she dropped my hand in order to walk up to a case full of old relics, staring in awe. Or not, as her eyes were darting across each item as if looking for something.
“What—” I started to ask, but she cut me off with a curse.
“All this, it’s… I mean, how much can all this be worth?”
“Steph…” I cocked my head, hoping she wasn’t going to suggest that we steal it and sell my aunt’s possessions to make some money.
Her wink told me she wasn’t going in that direction. “Only pondering. Don’t be so uptight.”
“I’m not uptight.”
“Yeah?” She walked to the corner, looking over more glass cabinets with shelf upon shelf covered with items. Strange ones like ceramic dolls and little crystal figurines such as dragons and cats. One case was all plates with images painted on them. Steph turned to me, eyes full of mischief. “If she has all this junk out here, what do you suppose she has hidden?”
“Stop.” I walked over to her, took her hands, and tried to kiss her.
She moved her lips aside and nibbled on my ear instead before saying, “Come on, let’s see what we can find.”
Going past me to cross the hall and enter the next room over, she started to make me worry. I hadn’t known this girl long, and as far as I knew, she could be a total klepto.
“Steph, stop,” I called out, then jogged after her, careful to shut the door behind me.
“I’m just having fun,” she said, already looking around the room, hands even tracing the wall as if looking for secret passages. “Have you ever been in a house like this? It’s a first for me.”
“Same.”
“Well, live a little. Let the child in you come out and play—it’s not like I really expect to find a closet of skeletons in here, but who knows, maybe she has a secret staircase that leads to a billiard room or something fun?”
“You want billiards, or you want to get some food?” I tried. “I thought you were hungry.”
She scrunched her nose. “Billiards.”
At that, apparently done with this room no
w, she moved on, brushing right past me. It was starting to get annoying, but I followed, realizing that the ball was in her court. I could get angry, tell her it was time to leave, but then she would be all kinds of pissed at me. Trying to seduce her clearly wasn’t going to work, and I’d played the food angle.
Following her as she went through a couple more rooms, then down another set of stairs toward what I thought must be the kitchen area, I racked my brain for options here. When nothing came up, I said fuck it.
“Steph, this is it.” We’d now arrived in what looked like the dining room, complete with a crystal chandelier gracing the ceiling. I looked around, sighing. “No more.”
She turned to me with a smug smile. “That so?”
“Yes.”
“Putting your foot down.”
“I am.”
“Fine.” She stepped closer, letting one shoulder of her sweater fall and licking her lips. Slowly, eyes on mine, she got to her knees. “But… I’ve never given head under a chandelier before. Think of it as… mistletoe for the rich.”
Was I so weak that this would dissuade me? I gulped as she nuzzled my crotch, and then breathed deep as she undid my belt first and then slowly unzipped my pants with her eyes still on mine. Yes, I was that weak.
It got even worse, though, when I heard a car come to a halt outside. Doors opening, then closing. Not even looking away, though, Steph had my firmly erect cock out and ran it along her cheek, down to her chin, then up to brush against her lip.
“You sure we can’t just… try?” She moved it across her upper lip, then kissed the tip. “Real fast?”
What does a man say in that situation? Not a damn thing. A brief head nod, and I hoped to God my aunt would go straight to her study, or at least take her time getting into the house. I hadn’t heard any doors closing yet.
“Make it fast.”
She arched an eyebrow, chuckled, and ran her tongue in a circle around the head, before putting it in her mouth. With a pause, she said, “After this, we explore more. Pretend she’s the enemy, and if she finds us—”
