The Corner House: A Reverse Harem

by Daisy Jane

  “The car-ride hand job is less special without these details,” I say, “plus if they get into a serious relationship together, as her best friends and sister, we want to know this stuff.”

  “I already know because, you know, work, but yeah,” Kayla raises her glass to a cheers that none of us are aware of.

  “What are we cheersing to?” I ask.

  “Mike Devers coming all over himself from Abbie.” She gulps down the second glass of wine a little too easily.

  Brynn erupts with laughter and Abbie buries her face away, again. Pulling her arm down gently I ask her to tell the whole story. And she does.

  Their chemistry together is off the charts, Abbie said, and being around each other every day at school is like the cruelest foreplay ever. When they finally got alone, Abbie said she felt like she turned into a wild animal and all she wanted was him. But she wasn’t ready to have sex and anyway, she knew she didn’t want their first time together to be in his car. Which actually, we found out a bit later in the recanting, is an SUV. She promised herself to stay in control but when they left Top Golf, he put on a playlist he’d made for her on his Spotify. Saying they were too special to share and be made fun of by us (I wouldn’t have but Brynn totally would), she wouldn’t say what songs were on it. She did, however, say that as soon as the music started, she turned to him and said “I want to make you orgasm.” She could barely repeat the words to us so how she ever said them to him, I don’t know. He must really get in her veins if she came out of herself that way.

  Kind of the way I feel like me when I’m with the guys at home.

  She refused to answers questions about his dick size (understandably, if it ends up being her boyfriend) but did tell us that the hand job was “beautiful” and “perfect”.

  Not words I would use to describe pumping dick but, then again, maybe it’s different when your heart is jerking off his heart, too. There my mind goes again, wondering what it would be like to touch Eli until he erupted.

  “I think it’s really sweet,” I say, as soon as Brynn finishes with her barrage of questions, none of which Abbie answers. “What’s next?”

  She curls her fingers together in front of her and stares off. “I’m falling in love with him.”

  And now even Brynn is silent.

  Rubbing her back, I give her a side hug on the barstools. “I’m so happy for you Abbie,” I say truthfully.

  “Okay, I don’t want to talk about this for a while. I feel this need to like, protect it and not smother everyone with it and I’ve never felt that way so I feel like I should pay attention to that. Honor it.”

  I couldn’t argue with that and neither could Brynn or Kayla. Abbie pulled out of her love-drunk stupor, turned to me and drank a sip of white wine. “Now you go.”

  I clear my throat and Brynn is literally a hot potato on the barstool next to me, popping up and down over and over. “Spill it, spill it, spill it,” she claps.

  “That’s a hard act to follow,” I say self-consciously, suddenly reframing my events in my head, thinking I’m going to sound pretty slutty. They’ve supported the idea of this, but I am curious to see what they say when I tell them I really went through it. And by curious I definitely mean nervous as hell.

  They stare at me like I’m a shirtless hunk doing push-ups as I recount the entire evening, from headache to our late-night snack. I leave out the gift bag and the girl that came by the house while Eli’s sinewy body was naked and molded to mine. I even relay how comfortable we joked about what we’d just done and how everything had seemed completely normal the last few days.

  Once they picked their jaws up off the floor, Brynn was the first one to respond.

  “You really did.”

  “It’s weird.” I sip my water and nibble a warm piece of watermelon that is virtually flavorless. “I wanted it and I got it and that feeling,” I shake my head and tug at the messy knot of hair on top of it, “it’s so powerful. Especially after feeling like, I haven’t had much happiness in the last year.”

  “Fuck,” hiccup, “ing Brett,” Kayla adds, helpfully.

  “Good for you,” Abbie adds supportively. She means it too. I don’t know if it’s this brewing love with Mike Devers from her school or if it’s just us maturing, realizing that happiness is the end game, regardless of how we find it. Simple lesson but takes years to learn.

  “What’s going on with you and Eli?” Brynn pokes my arm. “You still feeling like you have a crush on him?”

  “Who has the biggest thingie?” Kayla asks, holding up a waffle which she rolled into a breakfast tube. “Any of ‘em this big?”

  I’m a classy gang bang girl, so I don’t shed any light on the sizes of their dicks. And part of my brain also says, hey, keep Eli’s dick to yourself in case… in case… just like Abbie had reservations about sharing her time with Devers with us.

  “They all do more than fine in that department,” I say, realizing that this is the first time ever that I’ve had a lot of dirty information that they want, and not the other way around. “And I feel the same about Eli. I mean, he’s friendzoned me, but still, I have a little crush on him.” I shove a bite of whip cream covered waffle into my mouth and my eyes water when I swallow and it’s too big. I’m nervous just talking about the man. “I’ll get it over it. It’s nothing.”

  I will get over it. It is nothing.

  Chapter 20

  “Hey Sloanie,” Bodhi says from behind the kitchen island where he’s got his favorite cooking apron on over his naked chest. It’s not his Kiss the Cook apron, but the apron with Eli’s face all over it. Bodhi’s chest is so broad that his nipples aren’t covered by the apron and seeing those barbells send a wave of need up my spine. Reminds me of the barbell he has down south.

  “Hey Bod.” I hang my purse on the hooks and reach down, tousling Grandma’s hair before refilling his dish with a scoop of dry dog food. “How was your day?”

  I myself had a very long day at the salon where I had to watch Emerson get her color done by another stylist, and had to listen to her talk about how great of a job she was doing the entire time. I didn’t need salt in the wound, but Emerson was there to rub it in anyway. Because that’s what miserable bitches do.

  “Exhausting,” he says, dumping a measuring cup of chickpeas into a food processor. “I did a leg piece on this chick,” he shakes his head, “she basically wanted starry fucking night on her leg.” He shakes his hand out, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to jerk off again.”

  Sticking my lip out in a poor you face; I giggle at him. “Where there’s a will,” he smiles.

  “Hey, did you hear back from that shop owner downtown? Is she back from vacation?”

  “Next week, actually. And since then, I’ve crafted some more bands and a few other things.” He washes his hands and dries them then leans across the counter with a pensive look. “This woman is so hard to read. I usually read people really well. But I don’t know. With her it’s like, does she fucking hate me or does she hate Vegans? But who hates a Vegan?”

  “I can’t imagine anyone hating you Bodhi,” I say truthfully. It’s not just how easy he is on the eyes, either. He’s fun and sweet and easy to talk to. I said easy on the eyes, too, right?

  “I don’t know,” he runs a hand over his messy man bun and then pulls at the back of his neck.

  “You don’t know what?”

  He changes positions again, putting his palms flat on the island, back straight. “The more she blows me off the more I want her,” he laughs but his eyes take a minute to find mine. “Is that weak or what?”

  My cheeks burn for how long I smile at Bodhi. “You have a crush.” I sing-song.

  “Ahh, god, I know but I don’t think she’s into me and honestly, I’m not a cocky guy but seriously, this has almost never happened. I’ve never been so ignored.”

  I laugh because I can believe that. Hell, who would ignore Bodhi?

  “She’s not like, super uptight and religious,
is she?” I think of how some may view the piercings and tattoos.

  “Not at all. She’s so fucking cool. I mean,” he tilts his head and pushes off the island, returning his hands to the food processor. “I would like her to be vegan or at least animal-conscious but,” he shrugs, “I know I’m in the minority.” He scrapes the emulsified chickpeas into a bowl and takes out the blade. “I fucking like this chick, though, Sloane, I really do.”

  Bodhi is a female wet dream. Who is this woman who doesn’t want him?

  “What’s her name?” I ask, wondering if I know her. Small town, there’s a decent chance.

  “Carissa,” he says her name as if it’s glass. My cheeks burn and for Carissa, my heart races.

  “Bodhi,” I drape my hands over my chest, “you are so cute right now.”

  He rolls his eyes playfully then peers around the corner to see if anyone is around. It is made enjoyable by the pink panther tip toe he does to get to the hall.

  “What about Eli?” he says, finally washing the blade in the sink, placing it in the drying rack. I watch his large hands fill the base of the processor with warm, soapy water. His middle finger on his left hand has the words “ONLY LOVE” and I watch ONLY get lost in the sudsy basin, the word LOVE left floating as he washes. LOVE, LOVE, LOVE.

  Scrunching my nose and shaking my head, immediately I wish I wouldn’t have poked around Bodhi about Eli. “Friends,” I shake my head more, acting totally natural, I’m sure.

  “Sloane, it’s me.” Somehow, that’s enough.

  My shoulders droop. I press the heel of my palms to my eyes and rub, letting out a long sigh. “After the...”

  “gang bang?” He offers with a cheesy grin.

  I cringe at his wording. “Yeah, well, when you and Bastian left the room, Eli didn’t put his clothes back on and we cuddled. Or I mean, I thought we were cuddling. It didn’t feel like laying together. It felt like more, you know?”

  Bodhi nods silently.

  “And then, I thought we had this moment and he was going to say maybe he liked me or,” I start to cringe at the fact I thought Eli would have a crush on me. Captain America himself! “God this is embarrassing. Okay I guess I thought there was a moment. But then he just asked me about my headaches. It was just confusing because, Bod, he’s like, looking up migraine stuff for me. I don’t know. I definitely think I just got friend zoned and it’s been so long since I’ve been in a relationship that now I’m like, the girl that can’t read signals. Weird signal reader girl.”

  “Weird signal reader girl?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “We have mouths attached to our heads so we can talk, dummy,” he taps his head. “Just tell him you like him and then you don’t have to worry about all that other shit.” His eyes go big as he waves his hand. “Simplify Sloane, because all of that was just wondering aloud. You have no facts.” He pours a bowl of batter into the tray where he’s pressed his chickpea mix and I realize then he’s making vegan blondies. “Talk to him, then you know.”

  “Either way.” I add. But Bodhi looks up and tilts his head, lips pursed in a thin line.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Sloane, he likes you. Don’t doubt your badass self like that.”

  My cheeks flush, so I tease to deflect my embarrassment. “Do you read his diary?”

  “First of all, if Eli had a diary, it would be the most boring shit in the world. It would be like, oh, uh, my computer part came today and man I love whiskey and being good looking.” The voice he used for Eli was way off.

  “You’re not good at impressions,” I wince playfully. “He is good looking, though.” I whistle and shake my head. And his body fits against mine perfectly, I don’t say aloud.

  “My point is that I know my boy. He likes you.”

  I shrug, because while I trust Bodhi, I’ve also learned he is positively positive. A beam of sunshine about things all the time. And sometimes, your girl just needs a dose of reality in order to protect herself from major humiliation and-or heartbreak.

  “Maybe, maybe not, anyway, I’m cool,” I put my palms out. “I’m playing it cool. Cool Sloane.”

  Bodhi nods with a grin. “Yeah, okay.”

  In the last three weeks, I’ve had one migraine. And worse than that? I’ve only seen Eli a handful of times. He’s in the middle of a big systems upgrade at work which requires basically round-the-clock work with some level of on-call support. He had a few back-to-back but because Bastian’s details were all of “he’s doing computer stuff at his computer job”, I didn’t know much more. Just that he was gone for long stretches, then just home sleeping for long stretches.

  The day I got my migraine, he was gone. All I wanted was to lay in his arms. At least if I had to feel pain, I’d feel it in his embrace. I thought about what Bodhi had said. And eternally sunshiny or not, Bodhi wouldn’t lead me to someone that would hurt me or break my heart. Still, though, it just seemed so impossible to me. I really didn’t want to come off as the girl who is the clinger after the gang bang. I mean, I don’t know if that’s actually a thing, but I didn’t want to be her if it was.

  Despite the migraine, I powered through a few more color appointments this week. I was pretty tired from the hangover and since Bodhi was at a late appointment that night, there was no medicating with an apple bong this time. Just my injection and normal over-the-counter pills, the porcelain throne and my tears. Taking extra shifts in those “hangover” days was so hard, but I pushed through with huge black sunglasses, lots of Tylenol and a two-hour nap between two appointments.

  Sore and tired and looking a little worse for wear, I was surprised when I saw Eli’s white Tesla in the driveway when I got home from work. Slipping my shoes off and tucking them into the shoe rack by the door, I hung up my purse and made my way through the foyer to the kitchen. Grandma got to his feet, walked through my ankles precisely once, and went straight back to his massive Costco-splurge bed.

  “He’s tired, I took him on my run.” Eli’s voice was a bit broken, like he had just caught his breath and when I turned and saw him, my pussy felt him.

  Gray t-shirt with a large, dark half-moon under his collar, sweat under his arms too. The t-shirt fit like skin against his sinewy, muscle-lumped belly and broad chest. In a spot near the neck, the fabric was worn, nearly threadbare, and a few of the intricately inked letters were visible.

  He wore running shorts, nothing crazy short but still, I could see his heaving, vast quads. No ink on them, just blonde hair. Immediately, just from looking at his leg, I thought of his cock and the hair he kept neatly trimmed on his groin. I wet my mouth.

  “Oh.” Nice.

  “How are you Sloane?” he asks, but not casually. There’s weight to his tone, as if he too feels that it’s been too long since we’ve been in the same room together for a substantial amount of time.

  “Sore. Tired. Good. You?”

  “Sore?” Eli cocks an eyebrow as if he possibly didn’t want to know why I’m sore.

  I tap my temples with my pointer fingers. “Three days ago, I had a pretty good migraine.”

  He steps up in front of me as soon as I say it, fingers holding my elbows. “What? Are you okay?” The panic in his tone causes this queasy flip-flop thing inside my gut.

  “Yeah,” I nod, feeling heat tear up the sides of my neck, into my cheeks, down my chest and rest between my thighs. A trail of hot all over me. “My head just feels sore. It’s normal.”

  “The hangover.”

  “The hangover.” I repeat, surprised that he remembered. Bodhi said I need to just talk to him. Tell him how I feel—hey, I have a crush on you! Okay, as awkward as that may be, I do want to know what he’s thinking. I can’t keep wondering, I want him too much.

  I take a breath and gather my words, and then I look up to him ---

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t home to help, Sloane. I’ve been working a lot. In fact, I have to work a little bit tonight still.” He releases my elbows and I feel empty and weak. T
he moment to tell him, where he’s holding me close and there’s only us… is gone.

  “Bod and Bas here to help?” There’s hope is his brows when he asks.

  I shake my head. “No but it’s okay, I have all my meds set up and,” I shrug, “I’ve been doing this for a year now, Eli. I can take care of it.”

  He shakes his head. “That’s scary shit Sloane. Just because you can take care of it, doesn’t mean you should have to be alone while you feel that bad.”

  “I don’t really have a choice, Eli,” I blurt out, wishing I could take it back, hating how weird and harsh it sounded after it left my mouth. “I just mean, I’m single. You know, when you’re single, you learn stuff. How to change a tire, how to kill a spider.” I smile. “I can take care of myself.”

  He pauses, my smile not chipping at his stoicism.

  “Do you want to?”

  He steps forward, taking the space up around me. His arms pin me to the island and I can feel his damp shirt against mine, seeping into my skin. Inhaling, his scent is warm in my nose but masculine and musky. My pussy tingles fiercely.

  “Do you want someone to hold your hair when you’re getting sick?” he leans down and his scruffy jaw grazes my cheek as his lips dip into my hair, finding my ear.

  “Do you want someone to carry you to bed and hold you until you stop shaking?” His voice is husky and low.

  “Do you want someone to fuck you so good you start shaking all over again?”

  I swallow. My lips are dry. The surface of my skin is fire. I move so slowly under his torso. Lazily, as if I’m sleepy and am fighting to awaken but can’t. Or I just want to be trapped under him forever.

  He lifts away when Bastian comes tearing in the back, the door slamming loudly against the wall. Oh Jesus, what just happened? Eli’s eyes go to Bastian, who comes around the corner with grocery bags loaded to his armpits on each arm.

  “I have to make dinner for the crew at work tonight,” he says breathlessly as Eli peels bags down his arms.