Too Fast

by Alexia Haynes

  My heart raced with anxiety and I tried to talk myself down. Of course I thought I loved her. I’d spent last night and this morning having amazing sex with her. It was just hormones, or endorphins. I wasn’t really in love. I was in lust. I was in a state of bliss, riding out the ecstasy we’d experienced together. That was it. Not love.

  She didn’t stir, and I realized her soft breaths were even and steady. Savannah had fallen asleep, lying on my chest, with my dick still inside her. My cum still inside her. The thought made my penis move in her.

  I had to wake her up and go to work. I couldn’t stay here all day, making love to this woman, stroking her, licking her, claiming her. But God, I wanted to. I wanted to ruin her for other men. I wanted to show her that I loved her. I wanted to make her love me.

  Idiot, I told myself. Not love. Lust. Attraction. Chemistry. Total and complete sexual compatibility. Mind blowing, earth shattering, volcano erupting, rocket launching, cum shooting, sex.

  “Darlin’,” I said, rolling to my side and holding her against me. “We have to get up.”

  “Can’t,” she said, her head buried in my chest. “Boneless. Floating. Clouds.”

  I grinned at her euphoric state. I had done that to her. “Come on, Sweetie. If we don’t go now, I’m afraid I won’t get up at all. Besides, we need to shower.”

  She shook her head no. “Not showering. Keeping you with me all day.”

  “I can’t stay. I have to work.”

  “No.” She said looking at me. She took my hand and guided it between her legs.

  Her eyes were intense as she watched me feel my own cum there. “Keeping you with me all day.”

  My semen. She was keeping it with her. Dear God, I’d never been jealous of my semen before.

  Savannah kissed my lip and then sucked my bottom lip into her mouth. It hit me that she was laying claim to me, just as I was claiming her. She would think of me today. She would feel me with her.

  “You go get in the shower, Baby,” she said. “I’ll get us some peanut butter sandwiches for breakfast.”

  I hated to shower and wash her away, but I couldn’t show up at the job site smelling like sex. The three little words that seemed to want to burst from my chest almost slipped out. She crawled out of bed, opened a drawer, and shimmied into a tiny pair of black lace undies.

  I practically jumped out of the bed, taking her in my arms, and running my hands up and down her back. I planted a kiss on her forehead, on her cheek, her lips, then her pink, perky breast. “Let’s stay here today,” I said, tugging her into me, showing her I was ready and willing to go again.

  Savannah laughed. “I don’t think so.”

  “You can’t miss class?”

  “No. I can’t. But mostly, I can barely walk as it is.”

  “You’re sore. You should have told me.”

  “I wasn’t sore then. Now, I’m a little sore.”

  “Want me to kiss it and make it better?”

  She grinned. “I’m thinking that would be a bad idea.”

  I kissed her, and she responded hungrily. She wanted me. I wanted her. I’d be able to wait.

  “Get in the shower,” she said.

  I showered, ate my sandwich, kissed her goodbye, and went to work.

  I was happy to see Natalie. She looked relieved when I pulled up at the library.

  “You look okay,” she said, her eyes narrowed as she tried to find my true state of mind.

  “I wasn’t, Nat. But I am now. How about you?”

  She shrugged. “I’m angry. I’m sad. Not sad for Mom really, but sad for us. Sad for you because you always have to be the one to take care of things.”

  I reached over and took her hand. “We’ll be okay.”

  “Will she?”

  I’d just buried all these feelings and I wasn’t ready to let them rise to the surface. “I don’t know.” I sighed.

  “Do we have to go see her tonight? Do we have a family session?”

  Even Nat knew the drill. “Not tonight. We are spending some quality brother and sister time.”

  Nat leaned back into the seat. “Sounds good to me.”

  A horrible thought occurred to me, and I had to ask. “Nat, you didn’t go out to the living room that night, did you? You didn’t check on Mom?”

  “No,” she said, her eyes meeting mine. “I didn’t see anything. I smelled the pot. I heard some sex and stuff. Then I came into your apartment and went to sleep.”

  I wanted to ask what she’d heard. Was it something that she needed to talk about? Was it something weird that would warp her young mind? I chickened out. I didn’t ask. Instead, I shifted into drive and merged into traffic.

  We picked up some Chinese for dinner, swung by Hannah’s for Nat’s things, and went back home. It wasn’t until we pulled into the driveway that I remembered the couch and mattress.

  “What’s the furniture doing out here?” Nat asked.

  Dammit. Why hadn’t I remembered to have them pick that up? I hadn’t replaced it either. “Trashy redneck cooties,” I told her. “I didn’t want them in the house. I’ll get some new stuff. In the meantime, let’s just stay in my apartment.”

  Nat bit her lip, her eyes still on the furniture by the curb. “Okay. I was going to ask if I could sleep on your couch anyway.”

  “Good plan,” I said.

  “Is Savannah coming over?”

  “She has to work.”

  “What about after?”

  “I don’t think so.” I needed to remember to text Savannah. I grabbed Nat’s overnight bag and the Chinese and led the way into the garage.

  I needed to work tomorrow to make up for the lost time. The problem was that I shouldn’t leave my sister alone right now. And we probably did have to go visit my mother tomorrow. I’d had several messages, two from her, and one from a counselor.

  The last thing I wanted to do was see my mother. I wasn’t sure I could forgive her this time. I knew it was an illness. I knew she was sick. It wasn’t really her fault, but a big part of me hated her for it anyway.

  My phone rang at nine a.m. and I reached for it, answering without thinking.

  “Mr. Mashburn?”

  Oh crap. Was it a collection call? I struggled to remember what I had forgotten to pay.

  “This is Marilyn Julius, LCSW. I’m a counselor at Four North.”

  Oh, right. Not a collection agency. Too bad.

  “We wanted to see if you would be visiting your mother today. She is allowed visitors, and visiting hours are between ten a.m. and three p.m.”

  Great.

  “Can we count on seeing you today?”

  Dammit.

  “What about Natalie? She’s fifteen.”

  “Oh, yes. The younger child. She can visit as well. As long as she is with you. Your mother won’t be up for a long visit anyway. When you get here, we can schedule some family sessions for the three of you.”

  Family. We weren’t Mom’s family. We were her victims.

  “We’ll be there,” I said, not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t have a choice. Mom would stabilize. She would be released, and she would come back home. And we had our scripted parts to play in the meantime. I thought back to the last hospitalization. We’d had daily sessions with the therapist. It had been a guy that time. A guy who wore too much brown and looked like he was more depressed than his patients. He’d said we had to help Mom forgive herself. I hadn’t been as angry then. My anger grew as she kept making the same hurtful mistakes. I didn’t want her to forgive herself. I wanted her to fix herself. I wanted her to be normal, or at least sane.

  “Who was that?” Nat asked from her makeshift bed on the couch.

  I set my phone on the nightstand and rolled onto my side. “It was the hospital. Are you up for a visit?”

  “Sure,” Nat said, sounding anything but.

  “Let’s stop for a pancake breakfast.” I didn’t know if carbs helped with stress, but a yummy breakfast couldn’t hurt us.
>
  “Really?” Natalie actually smiled.

  “Really.”

  Nat had worn a pretty dress with a cardigan. She knew as well as I did that the counselor would be judging us as much as my mother. Well groomed. Check. Eye contact. Check. Family support system. Ready to welcome family member home. Hell no!

  When we walked out of the hospital hours later, I had a stomach ache and Nat was chewing her nails. The counselor had an ulterior motive today. She’d been trying to decide whether Nat could stay with me until my mother’s release or whether she needed to contact social services. She had decided Nat was safe with me, which was a good thing, because I wasn’t letting her out of my sight. They’d probably have thrown me in the psych ward too. Then Nat would be totally screwed.

  Maybe I should let my boss and his wife adopt her. They had offered before, when I had approached them out of desperation. That’s when they’d helped me keep the house. They were willing to do it, but they weren’t going to do the paperwork and then let me have her. They would take her in and make her part of the family. I wouldn’t have any say in how she was raised. And once they petitioned for custody, the informal parenting I’d been doing would be scrutinized and would no longer be an option. At least, that’s what all three of the lawyers said when I had my free one-hour consultation with them. If Mom fought them and won, she would keep me away from Nat. She wouldn’t forgive me for trying to take her daughter or for saying the things I would have to say to get Nat away from her.

  Dammit to hell. I was twenty fucking years old, and I was the only adult in our family. I should be in college, drinking too much, screwing slutty girls, thinking about nothing but myself. For the first time, the idea of an endless string of hot girls didn’t appeal to me. Fine. Drinking too much and fucking Savannah’s brains out. That’s what I should be doing. College. Not working twelve hour days, paying bills, taking care of Nat, and grocery shopping. Aww hell.

  “We have to go to the grocery,” I told Nat. “I forgot to go.”

  “Hannah’s mom made some really good lasagna,” she said. “I can make it for you.”

  “That would be great,” I said. “Or we could just buy some frozen.”

  “I’m cooking,” Nat said. “It will be fun. Is Savannah coming over?”

  “I don’t know. She’s working again.”

  “But you aren’t going over there?”

  She was worried. “Nat, I am not going to leave you alone at the house. I wouldn’t do that.”

  She sighed with relief. “Okay.”

  “Let’s go make lasagna,” I said.

  Savannah called at ten when she got off work. “Should I come over?”

  “Yes, please,” I said. I hadn’t seen her since yesterday morning, but it felt like a week. I was so horny I was considering taking a long shower and easing that ache. “Spend the night here.”

  “What about Nat?”

  I couldn’t speak freely because Nat was perched on the other end of the couch. “She’s fine with it.”

  “Will we be able to, um, you know?”

  “Definitely,” I said, pulling the throw pillow onto my lap to hide my body’s response to her mention of “you know.”

  “See you soon,” she said.

  Nat eyed me with suspicion. “You aren’t going to send me to my room when she gets here are you?”

  “How about you just take a really long shower?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “How long?”

  “Until the water runs cold.”

  She shrugged. “Okay.”

  A half hour later, Savannah pulled in the drive. I walked out to her car, not willing to wait another second to see her.

  She kissed me with the heat and desperation I felt. “Are we doing it in your SUV?” she asked. “Cuz I’m okay with that.”

  “No,” I said, stepping back, smoothing her hair. “We have some time while Nat takes her shower.”

  “Good,” Savannah said.

  We went inside and Nat said hi to Savannah.

  Then Nat rolled her eyes. “I guess I’ll take that shower now.”

  She went off to the bathroom, and I had Savannah stripped naked before we even heard the faucet turn on.

  Chapter Ten

  Luke

  I shed my clothes, which wasn’t easy, because she was kissing me anywhere she could find skin.

  I lifted her up and pressed her into the wall by my bed.

  “Oh, goody,” she said.

  And then she didn’t say anything but “Oh my God” for the next twenty minutes.

  We were dressed, panting, disheveled, and languidly intertwined on my bed when Nat came out of the bathroom.

  “Eww,” she said.

  “Maybe we should sit on the couch,” Savannah suggested.

  I reluctantly followed her over to sit with my sister, and Nat put in a romantic comedy for us to watch.

  I didn’t comprehend a moment of it. My body buzzed at Savannah’s nearness, and I idly stroked her arm then her hair.

  Savannah focused on the movie, chiming in when Nat commented on the plot. But she wasn’t immune to my touch. The tension drained from me as I reveled in her nearness. I relaxed enough to close my eyes.

  Savannah

  Natalie and I were discussing the merits of Paul Rudd as a romantic comedy lead when Luke kissed my forehead and then rested his head on mine. I could feel him relax into sleep, and I smiled.

  Natalie glanced over and made kissy noises. “You guys are so cute it makes me want to barf.”

  I knew exactly what she meant. Not the barfing, but the too cute. Luke and I were a perfect fit for each other. In bed, he made me feel things no other guy ever had. I didn’t think it was just because he had the rockingest body I’d ever seen. If I was going to describe physical perfection, it would be Luke. He was more than a hot body though. He knew where to touch me, how to touch me, what I needed.

  I should be terrified that I cared about him. Luke was supposed to be a one-night stand, and instead my world was becoming tangled up in his. He pulled me to him like he generated his own gravity. When he was near, I was centered, calm, confident. I’d already missed classes and quit a job. Luke threatened my independence. And when I got within a hundred feet of him, I didn’t care.

  The movie ended and Luke didn’t wake up.

  “Maybe you should sleep in the bed,” I suggested. “We can take the couch.”

  Natalie wrinkled her nose. “No way. You guys just did it on the bed.”

  “Actually, no. We didn’t do it on the bed.”

  She jumped off the couch. “Eww. Gross. Ewww.”

  I mentally kicked myself for sharing more than I should have. “The couch is safe.”

  Natalie shook her head. “Tonight I’m sleeping in the bed, and tomorrow you can tell me where not to sit and what not to touch.”

  Don’t touch the walls, I thought to myself.

  I eased out from under Luke and stretched him out on the couch. “Scoot,” I said, nudging him over so I could lay down facing him.

  He moved and pulled me against his chest without fully waking up.

  I lay there, watching him sleep. He carried such a burden for a guy my age. And yet he slept peacefully now.

  His eyes opened and he asked sleepily, “What are you doing?”

  “Watching you sleep,” I said.

  A grin tugged at the corners of his lips and he closed his eyes, mumbling, “You love me too.”

  I stared in horror as he drifted back into a deep sleep. Holy crap! Had he just said I loved him? Had he meant he loved me? Did he love me?

  I thought for a minute. He came to me when he was upset. He treated me like I mattered, always careful to make sure my needs were taken care of, whether it came to food or sex or getting to class. Sure, he was a great guy. He would do anything to keep his sister safe and happy. Was he willing to do the same for me? I kind of thought so. And did I really think he was this perfect guy who fought for everyone and protected everyone? Did I t
hink he was some kind of knight in shining armor?

  No. He was a man. A twenty year old with too much responsibility. Holy crap, he did love me! Panic vied with a sense of satisfaction as I struggled to comprehend. How did I feel about this? How did I feel about him? Did I love him?

  I’d never been in love. Ever. I had avoided a serious relationship like the plague. After watching my mother move from man to man, I knew I had to be true to myself. I had to be independent, self-reliant, strong. Admittedly, I didn’t believe my mother loved any of the guys she latched on to over the years. She was more of a parasite than a heartsick romantic.

  Mom would love Luke for his house and his body. At my age, she would have managed to move her ass right in, and she’d be expecting more for her BJ’s than reciprocation and orgasms. My dad had left when I was two. Mom didn’t have the gift for identifying the easily manipulated back then. But she’d worked hard at perfecting it. She worked her way up the food chain of men, almost always going for higher status and money when she transitioned to the next man. There was that one time she went for looks, but he’d cheated on her almost immediately. “Always be the pretty one in the relationship,” she warned me later. Repeatedly.

  Sure I could love somebody without losing myself in them. I could be independent and strong and in love. Of course, I had made some choices that I wouldn’t otherwise have made. I had missed classes to spend time with Luke. I had quit that job at least a week earlier than I would have.

  I hadn’t seen Luke since yesterday morning, and I had rushed over here the first chance I got. Oh crud. I could tell myself it was for the sex, but I would be lying. I cared about Luke and Natalie too. I worried about him carrying these burdens. Shitfire, I loved him. I was in love with Luke.

  In one week, I’d gone from one-night stand to being in love with a man who loved me back. And if that weren’t enough bad news, I was afraid he was the pretty one in the relationship.

  I rolled over so that my back was pressed against him, pulled his arm over me, and let myself enjoy the warmth from his body as it seeped into mine.

  Love, I thought, almost laughing as my heart swelled.

  When I woke up, my neck stiff from my awkward position on the couch, the panic returned. My mind raced through the problems my epiphany presented. Did he know he’d told me? Did he really mean it? Should I ask? Should I tell him? Oh my God, did this mean we weren’t parting ways in three weeks? What if we did? What if we didn’t?