Close to Me

by Monica Murphy

  Spending time with her and her family has helped me see that there’s more to life than my own selfish needs.

  “I want to do this,” she says, her voice firm. Giving me permission.

  “Here.” I hand her the condom. “Put that on the table.”

  She does as I ask and then I’m crawling up the length of her body, stopping when I’m directly in front of her, our faces, our chests aligned. Tilting my head, I lean in and press my mouth to hers, drinking from her sweet, sweet lips. She opens for me easily, like she always does, and I slide my tongue in, circling hers, searching her mouth. I don’t touch her anywhere else, and she doesn’t touch me either. Yet my dick is already hard, just from her lips on mine, and I remind myself to slow down. Make it last.

  Make it good for her.

  But she makes me eager. Nervous. Fumbling. I skim my fingers across her shoulders, drift them down the front of her tank, catching on the neckline. It falls forward, and I dip my head, dropping a kiss on top of her exposed chest.

  “Take it off,” she whispers, and I do, whipping the tank off to find she’s only wearing a pair of sheer, skimpy panties. I’m momentarily stunned, taking her in, and she scoots down the bed, lying flat on her back beneath me.

  I kiss her everywhere, and like she promised, she tries her best to be quiet. I kiss her shoulders, her collarbone, her breasts. I lick her nipples. Suck them. She clutches my hair in her fists, breathing heavily, using just enough pressure to try to guide me down her body.

  I know what my girl wants. And I’m going to give it to her.

  My lips drift across her stomach, tease her bellybutton with my tongue. She gives a little jerk, a giggle escaping her, replaced by a low moan when I tug her panties down her hips. She kicks them off her legs, and then she’s completely naked, her skin glowing.

  I rise up on my knees and tear off my T-shirt, then kneel between her legs, my hands braced on the inside of her thighs as I spread her wide. She’s pink and pretty and glistening, and when I swipe my tongue through her folds, she about jolts off the bed.

  “Sshh,” I murmur against her pussy, just before I give it a thorough lick. She tastes so damn good. Watching her writhe around while I drive her crazy with my tongue and fingers is my new favorite thing.

  Within minutes she’s coming, those strong thighs of hers clamping around my head again while she rides out her orgasm. It’s hot as fuck. I can’t believe this girl is mine.

  All mine.

  Thirty-Six

  Autumn

  “Ash. Please.” I’m desperate. I claw at him, my hands reaching, seeking, and all I think about is having him inside me. I’m needy, I want it, but I’m also scared.

  What if it hurts?

  What if he can’t fit?

  What if he comes before he gets inside me?

  That would be…disappointing. But I can deal with it.

  Hopefully.

  I already had an orgasm, thanks to his magical tongue. God, I don’t know if I can ever get enough of that. I remember when I first heard about oral sex, and I always thought it sounded so disgusting.

  Of course, that’s when I was twelve or thirteen and a complete idiot. Now that I’ve actually experienced it, I’m going to want him to do that to me just about every day. He makes me greedy like that.

  “I’ll give you what you want, baby.” He finishes kicking off his boxer briefs before he reaches across me, his fingers grasping for the packet on the bedside table, and then he’s rising onto his knees, tearing the wrapper open and rolling the condom onto his erection. I watch in complete fascination, marveling at how large it is. Wondering for about the fiftieth time if it’s going to fit.

  Is it? Will it?

  God, it better.

  “Try to relax,” he says as he gets into position. He plumps the pillows beneath my head, as if he wants to make sure I’m comfortable, and my heart just cracks wide open from all the love I feel for him in this moment.

  In all of our moments.

  He touches my hip and shifts me to the right, and I follow his lead, my gaze drifting down to the spot where we’re about to connect. His other hand grips the base of his erection. He gives it a firm stroke and then he guides it toward the spot between my legs. I spread them wider, feel the head nudge at my entry, and I swallow hard, trying my best to relax my muscles so I can accept him easier.

  “Goddamn, you’re so wet,” he mumbles, sounding agonized. Slowly he inches himself inside me, and I bite my lip when I feel that first sharp pinch.

  He goes still, gazing down at me, his hands propped on either side of my head. “You okay?”

  I nod, pressing my lips together. It doesn’t hurt so much anymore. I just feel really, really full.

  With a few flexes of his hips, he’s embedded fully inside me, and he pauses there, not moving, I suppose letting me get used to him. He presses his forehead against mine, his breathing harsh, his chest flush next to mine so I can feel his rapidly beating heart.

  “Am I hurting you?” His voice is a harsh rasp, but there’s tenderness there. Caring. He cares about me.

  He loves me.

  “No,” I say with a shake of my head.

  He shifts, sending himself even deeper, and a whimper escapes me. “You feel so good, Autumn. I’m going to have to take this slow.”

  “That’s okay.” I’d rather take it slow. So we can make this last.

  We start to move, hesitantly at first, and then with more purpose. It’s a little awkward, and I feel like a fumbling fool, but he’s fumbling too, and I realize he’s just as nervous as I am. I run my hands down the sleek, muscular skin of his back, and he shudders from my touch. I love that, the power I have over him, and I let my hands drift down farther. Farther. Until I’m touching his perfect butt, pressing down hard, so he has no choice but to sink deeper into me.

  And then we start moving in earnest. Faster. Harder. I can feel the tingle start, and it’s right there, just out of reach when he drops his face into my pillow, groaning as his hips jerk, and I realize he’s coming.

  Oh. Wow. That was fast.

  “Shit, Autumn. I knew that would happen.” He’s speaking into the pillow, his voice muffled, and I sort of want to laugh.

  “It’s okay.” I stroke his damp-with-sweat back, trying to sooth him. “It felt good.”

  “You didn’t come.”

  “No, but you did.” This time I do laugh and he lifts his head, smiling down at me. “We’ll do this again. You can make it up to me. Plenty of times.”

  “I’m sure,” he says, dropping a kiss on my nose. “I just wanted to make it good for you.”

  “You made it good for me,” I tell him truthfully. It was so good. Better than in the back of my Jeep, that’s for sure. “I promise.”

  He stares at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and it feels so good, so right lying with him like this. Our bodies still connected, our hearts pounding. I will never, ever forget this night. The game, kissing by the lake, laughing and eating with my family, having sex for the first time. All with Ash.

  The boy who has my heart.

  Completely.

  We lie together for a little while longer, but then he reluctantly pulls away, grabbing a tissue from the box on my bedside table and peeling off the condom, wrapping it up in the Kleenex. “I’ll find a place to toss this,” he tells me, clutching it in his hand, and I’m thankful he thought of it. We have to get rid of the evidence. If my parents found out…

  I don’t want to think about that. Not now.

  He throws his clothes back on and I watch him, regret filling me. I wish he could stay in my bed for a little while longer, but that would just be weird, right? And if my parents caught us, that would be the end of our relationship. I can’t risk that.

  We’ve already risked enough.

  “I’m going back to my room.” He leans over me and kisses me slowly. Deeply. With languid sweeps of his tongue that leaves my body tingling and wanting more. “Good nig
ht.”

  I catch his hand, stopping him from leaving. “You really have to go?”

  “Autumn.” My heart expands when he calls me by my name. He never says it enough. “I wish I could stay, but you know I can’t.”

  “I know. I’ll miss you.”

  “You’ll see me tomorrow.”

  “It can’t come soon enough.”

  “You’re being kind of ridiculous,” he teases.

  “This is what you do to me. You leave me in a ridiculous state.” I grin up at him and he kisses me yet again, like he can’t help it.

  “Good night,” he murmurs against my lips, and I smile.

  “Night.”

  “Love you,” he whispers, and my skin goes tight.

  “I love you too.” Oh God, if I don’t watch it I could cry from pure happiness.

  This is the best night of my life.

  Thirty-Seven

  Ash

  I smell the smoke before I see it, hazy yet visible, thin black strips of it drifting in the hallway that leads to the guest room. Right at the moment I notice it, a smoke alarm starts to go off, the incessant blaring making me cover my ears. I run toward my room, the tissue-wrapped condom falling out of my hand and onto the floor, forgotten.

  I come to a stop at the doorway, flickering orange flames preventing me for going inside.

  “Holy shit,” I mutter under my breath, looking left, then right, wondering if they have a fire extinguisher in the house, and where it might be. I decide to look in the laundry room, which is closer than the kitchen.

  And that’s where I find it, tucked into a cabinet above the washer. I pull it out and run back toward the room, fumbling with the valve so I can hit the trigger. Footsteps sound behind me, and I glance over my shoulder to see Drew running toward me, clad in only a pair of black sweatpants, his forehead creased in concern.

  “What the hell is going on?” he yells, and I point at the flames.

  “Fire!” My fingers curl around the trigger and I spray as hard as I can, desperate to put out the fire, panic racing through me. All I can think is how this is going to ruin everything. They’re going to think I did something stupid and possibly blame me for the fire, since pretty much every bad thing that happens to me is somehow my own damn fault. Then they’ll kick me out. I’ll be on my own, in the streets, left adrift.

  I fucked everything up, and I didn’t even do this.

  Drew leaves me for what feels like five minutes but was probably no longer than thirty seconds, returning with another extinguisher clutched in his hands. He pulls the tab and starts spraying along with me, the both of us focusing on the bed. The flames are the worst there, and I wonder if that’s where it started.

  I also wonder how it started. I haven’t smoked since I got here, so I know a discarded cigarette didn’t start this. That was always my fear when I was younger. Mom always fell asleep on the couch, a cigarette dangling from her fingers, from her mouth…

  I hear sirens in the distance and realize a fire engine has arrived, thank God. What we’re doing isn’t going to put this out.

  “Hey!” Drew nods toward the door that leads outside. “Go out there and tell them what’s going on.”

  He trusts me enough to do that? “O-okay.” I do as he says, running outside to tell the firefighters, who are hopping off the engine, where the fire is, but someone is already there. Talking to them.

  Squinting into the darkness, I can see it’s a girl. She’s tall and thin with long legs, and she has long hair that’s dyed bluish green. She turns to look at the house, our gazes catching, and my heart stops.

  Is that…

  Rylie?

  What the hell?

  I run over to the firefighters, ignoring Rylie completely as I tell them where the fire is. I can’t think about why she’s here right now, or why. We’ve got other shit to handle, like preventing the house from burning to the ground.

  They hook their hoses to the side of the fire engine and then they’re following me to the door that leads to the guest room, one of them sending me a warning look as I was about to go inside with them.

  “Stay here,” he says, his voice firm. “We’ve got it.”

  I watch as Drew waves them over and takes over, and I try to catch his eye, get his attention so he’ll come talk to me, but he’s too busy talking to the guy who told me to wait outside.

  Turning, I watch the house, my gaze scanning frantically, making sure it’s not on fire anywhere else. I’m breathing heavily, my chest aches, and when I try to clear my throat, that sends me into a coughing fit, most likely caused by the smoke I inhaled earlier.

  “You all right?” A feminine voice asks me.

  Nodding, I keep coughing, unable to answer her with words. Thank God the fire hasn’t spread. I think of Autumn, how I just left her room, and I’m so damn grateful she’s okay.

  But where is she? No way can they all still be in the house.

  “Looks like it’s contained to just the one room,” one of the firefighters says after she finishes speaking on the radio that’s hooked to her belt. She’s standing with Rylie, who has a thin blanket draped over her shoulders, and she’s visibly shivering. “Are you okay, hon?” the firefighter asks Rylie.

  She nods, tears streaking down her cheeks. I stare at her incredulously, my mind trying to put together what she’s doing here. None of the answers are good.

  “Rylie,” I start, and she lifts her head, her eyes going wide when she sees me, as if she didn’t notice me standing by her for the last couple of minutes.

  Weird.

  “Oh, thank God! There you are! I was so worried. Once the fire started and I couldn’t see you, I thought…I thought I lost you.” She fling herself at me, the blanket sliding off her body, and I realize she’s dressed for bed, wearing a thin nightshirt that hits her right at the knees.

  I set her away from me, shaking my head. “What are you doing here?”

  “You told me to come here. Remember? I was in your room. With you.” Her eyes are huge, and her expression is downright frantic.

  “No, you weren’t in my room,” I say slowly, frowning at her. Something is way off with Rylie. Why is she saying I asked her to meet me in my room?

  The firefighter is watching us, suspicion in her eyes. “You two know each other?”

  “Yeah,” I say at the same time Rylie exclaims, “Yes! He’s my boyfriend!”

  My head whips toward her at that. “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are,” Rylie says, laughing like I’m making a joke. “Stop being silly.”

  I glance over at the firefighter, who appears vaguely alarmed. “I’m not her boyfriend,” I tell her.

  “Then what is she doing here? Does she live here?”

  “No.” I glance over at Rylie, who’s started to cry. “What are you doing?” I ask her. “Are you okay?”

  “No, Ash. No, I’m not okay. You keep ignoring me, you deny everything I say, and it really hurts. You didn’t believe me when I told you I was pregnant, and now I lost the baby. And it’s all your fault. You ruined everything. You ruined us. You ruined our baby. You ruined my life!”

  The firefighter—the nameplate on her shirt says her last name is Ramirez—takes out a pen and a tiny notepad and flips it open, taking notes. Like she’s some sort of cop who wants to mention that Rylie’s behaving as if she’s unhinged.

  Shit.

  What the hell is going on right now? I feel like I’m living a dream. Or a nightmare. But I’m not waking up, which means it’s all real. This is actually happening.

  The fire is put out quick, solely contained to my room, specifically my bed and the table beside it. The firefighters were efficient and the cleanup won’t be bad, though there’s a lot of smoke damage. An arson investigator shows up within twenty minutes of the fire being put out, picking over the charred and burned stuff in the room, and Drew and I stand outside in the hall, watching him move through the room silently.

  “Were you smoking in there?�
�� Drew asks, his voice low. “I won’t be mad if you were. Accidents happen.”

  I believe him. He sounds sincere, though it’s hard to believe any adult when they tell you you won’t be in trouble. They always say that right before they call you out for doing something stupid.

  “No. I haven’t smoked since the night I got my face punched in,” I tell him truthfully. My chest still hurts, and I start coughing again. The smoke damage in the room is bad, I can still smell it in the air. It was more destructive than the actual fire, and I just know all my shit is ruined.

  And I have no money to replace any of it. Meaning I’m completely screwed. I’m also thinking that’s the least of my worries tonight.

  “What’s this?” Drew stoops and grabs something off the floor, and when I spot the wadded up tissue in his hand, I want to snatch it from him and throw it as hard as I can.

  Fuck me, he’s holding my used condom. The condom I used when I had sex with his freaking daughter.

  “I’ll take it,” I offer but he doesn’t give it to me. He stares at the tissue, and I know when his lip curls that he’s realized what exactly was wrapped up in that Kleenex.

  “Why is that girl still here?” Drew asks as he starts walking toward the open door that leads outside, his steps brisk.

  I follow after him. “I don’t know.”

  Drew stops right at the door, turning to face me. “Who is she? Do you know her?”

  Swallowing hard, I nod once, looking away. Shame hits me hard, spreading over my skin, sinking deep inside me. I don’t want to tell him what happened. I don’t want to admit any of it. It’s embarrassing. Hell, I don’t even know if what Rylie says is true.

  “Were you using this?” He holds out his hand, the tissue still resting there. “With her?” He nods toward Rylie.

  She’s standing next to Ramirez the firefighter, the blanket still around her shoulders. Rylie looks very small, very pale, and very confused.