by ANDREA SMITH
A few more moments passed and any doubts as to what was happening below me disappeared.
“Oh God, Slate, that’s it, baby; keep fucking me just like that.”
My mother’s voice had reached a high-pitch that was unfamiliar to me.
I felt like an unwilling voyeur but what choice did I have? Maybe if I put the pillow over my ears . . .
It was too late.
Just then I heard a succession of moans and whines from my mother, followed by Slate’s masculine groaning. Their sounds seemed to blend together in a very synchronized, rhythmic, carnal song. It seemed to go on forever.
I was both fascinated and envious, which was disturbing. That was my mother for Chrissake! I didn’t want to think of her as a sexual being even though I knew how immature that sounded. She probably felt the same way about me.
No need to worry, Mom. I now know what an orgasm sounds like; I have no clue as to what it feels like though. If she knew that, she would probably find me pathetic.
I smiled when I recalled how she had called him “Slate” again just now in bed. Perhaps “Diamond” was back.
CHAPTER 5
Mom and I had been up with the chickens to start the preparations for our Thanksgiving turkey feast.
Slate had taken charge of Bryce which was a big help. Dinner wasn’t scheduled until 7:00 p.m. this evening, so we had time.
It was kind of a fun and bonding thing for both Mom and me.
She worked on rolling out the pie dough for her pumpkin pies while I shredded stale bread for the dressing.
Mom was in such a good mood these days. I noticed how she would hum happily while she worked in the kitchen. I thought about what I had overheard the night before and figured that might account for some of the humming.
“Mom,” I started as I tossed some of the seasoning into the big bowl where I was mixing the dressing, “does Taz see anyone?”
She immediately looked up from where she was stirring the pumpkin filling mixture, suspicion written all over her face as to why I would even be asking.
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason, really. I just thought it was odd that he didn’t bring a date to your wedding or at least to the reception.”
“Hmmph,” she replied, giving an eye roll, “It’s hard to imagine Taz knowing anyone that would have the couth or manners to be able to pull it off at a gathering like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know when Slate and he were working undercover in Indy all those months?”
I nodded, chewing on a piece of celery that I had sliced for the dressing.
“Taz was totally into that scene, I mean totally. From the do-rag to the slutty groupies that were constantly around, he totally loved that persona.”
“Well, come on, Mom, how does that prove that he doesn’t date, you know, nice girls?”
“He may,” she said with a shrug, “I’ve never seen him with one. Slate’s never mentioned him being seriously involved with a woman. Who knows?”
“You know what is strange, Mom?”
She looked up at me again, waiting for me to divulge some unknown juicy tidbit or piece of gossip about Taz she hadn’t yet been made aware.
“What?”
“I just noticed something. You’re calling Eric ‘Slate’ again. What’s up with that?”
I enjoyed watching the blush cross over her face as she started back in on pouring the pumpkin filling into the pie shells.
“Really, Lindsey; you come up with the strangest observations at times.”
By late afternoon, all of the preparations were finished.
The turkey was stuffed and roasting in the oven; the pies were cooling. The cranberry salad was in the fridge; along with the mashed potatoes, broccoli casserole and glazed carrots that just needed to be nuked before we sat down to eat. The dinner rolls were baked and would be reheated as well before dinner. The dining room table was set.
Bryce was down for a nap with Slate. Mom and I had cleaned up the kitchen after all of our preparations.
“Well, Lindsey, I don’t know about you but I am going to take a nice, long soak in the Jacuzzi tub and get dressed. What about you?”
“I might grab a short nap and then a shower, Mom. I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
“Oh?”
I tried as hard as I could not to let the amusement show on my face. I failed.
“Yeah, some weird banging noises woke me up.”
I saw her face flush as she realized just how much I had heard.
“Enjoy your soak, Mom. See you in a couple.”
I set the alarm on the clock in my room and napped restfully for an hour. It was enough to refresh and give me my second wind.
I showered and blew my light brown hair dry, using some gel to make the short cut spiky and playful. I had put some coppery and dark blond highlights in my hair over the summer. I liked the depth it had given my hairstyle.
I carefully applied eye make-up. Darcy said my eyes were my best feature. They were green like my mom’s; not nearly as green as Taz’s though.
I selected a pair of black leggings with an oversized sweater and pulled a pair of black heeled boots on. I put earrings into the four piercings I had on each ear. I spritzed a tiny bit of cologne on and took a final look. This was as good as it got.
I descended downstairs, hearing Bryce chattering his baby-talk to Slate who was lounging on the sofa his legs perched up on the coffee table in the family room.
I scooped the baby up just as Slate’s cell phone chimed.
“Speak, loser,” he said with a laugh.
My ears perked up. Was he talking to Taz? I couldn’t imagine Slate talking to anyone other than his best bud that way. I continued to play with Bryce, keeping my ears peeled trying to confirm it was Taz.
“Sure, bro. No problemo. The more the merrier.”
It had to be Taz, but what was with the more the merrier’?
My eavesdropping was interrupted when Mom came into the room, putting her earrings in. She looked great as usual.
As soon as Bryce saw her, he immediately raised his arms for her to pick him up. I couldn’t get over how much he looked like Slate. He sure didn’t look like Mom or me.
“What does my baby boy want?” she cooed, picking him up.
I saw Slate roll his eyes as he tossed his phone back onto the coffee table.
“Sammie,” he said, his tone slightly admonishing but mostly playful, “what have I told you about talking ‘wussy’ to my boy like that?”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Slate,” she said, kissing Bryce’s chubby little fingers, “he’s still a baby. He loves his mommy; yes he does, yes he does,” she continued to cooing to him. He was totally infatuated with Mom. It warmed my heart.
“Oh, that was Taz on the phone,” Slate said. “He wondered at this late time would it be okay if he brought a date. I told him no problem.”
“A date?” Mom asked her brows furrowed in confusion.
A freaking date?
“I didn’t know he was dating anyone,” she replied, taking Bryce into the kitchen with her. “I mean, it’s no problem. Lindsey, can you set another place?”
“Sure, Mom,” I replied, my stomach feeling queasy now at the prospect of meeting Taz’s girlfriend.
What an idiot I had been with my school-girl crush going on like that for weeks. I had been so out of touch with reality, thinking how almost intimate it would have been having just the four of us adults sharing Thanksgiving dinner.
I was pathetic. I realized that now as I slapped another place setting down at the dining room table, the china rattling noisily.
“Is everything alright out there, Lindsey?” Mom called from the kitchen.
“Fine, Mom,” I replied, gritting my teeth.
Thirty minutes later, I had managed to pull my emotions together, putting on my best, congenial attitude for the evening. I had no one to blame except myself for thinking Taz and I co
uld ever be anything to each other.
I was in the nursery, putting Bryce down for the night when I heard the doorbell ring.
I heard Slate holler that he had it as I walked from the nursery to the kitchen. Mom was just putting the food in that needed warming up when I got there.
“Would you like a glass of wine, Lindsey?” she asked. I was grateful as hell for the offer.
“Sounds good, Mom.”
She poured each of us a glass of white wine.
Several moments later, we heard the sound of footsteps coming closer from the hallway towards the family room that was right off of the kitchen.
I saw Taz’s girlfriend first. She was following Slate into the family room. She was tall, slender and had jet black hair that went to her waist. She was a bit exotic looking, but certainly not ugly in any way, shape or form.
Then I saw him following behind her. His eyes immediately met mine, briefly. He looked away as if he felt guilty about something. How strange.
My mother immediately headed over to greet our guests with her well borne manners and cordiality.
“Honey,” Slate said, “this is Roxie Stratton, Taz’s friend who is joining us for dinner this evening. Roxie, this is my wife, Sammie.”
I felt like a statue as the rest of the introductions were made. Roxie seemed nice enough. We shook hands and then Mom ushered everyone out to the family room with the instructions they were to make themselves comfortable.
She told me to join them while Slate got their drink orders and she pulled some of the cold appetizers out of the refrigerator that we had prepared earlier.
God! Do I have to, Mom?
Somehow, I survived the small talk during our drinks and appetizers.
I managed to hold my own during dinner, sneaking into the kitchen a couple of times under the pretense of refilling the gravy boat where I chugged another glass of wine down quickly.
By the time dinner was over, and dessert was being served, I had a nice little buzz going unbeknownst to anyone.
Well, Taz might have known, because it seemed as if he was continually glancing over at me. I caught him watching me in my peripheral vision a couple of times. He wasn’t all that attentive to his girlfriend either. She didn’t seem to be upset by this. She was probably used to it.
I excused myself to go upstairs. I needed to find my phone and call Darcy. The thought of sitting around for after dinner conversation like a pathetic fifth wheel did not appeal to me in the least. It was only 8:30 p.m. They could be here for another couple of hours. No freaking way.
I was relieved when Darcy answered. She was as bored as I was at her house. She said she would swing by and pick me up. According to her, there were several clubs with live bands playing tonight. It was a major party night. It sounded good to me.
I brushed my teeth, touched up my makeup, putting on heavier eye shadow and liner for night lights. I added lipstick.
Now what to wear?
I shed my leggings, putting on a short black skirt instead, with lacy black thigh-highs. I put my heeled black boots back on, and found my black, leather jacket in the closet. I was ready for some fun.
I was still upstairs primping when I heard a knock on my bedroom door.
“Lindsey?”
It was Mom.
“Come on in,” I called out to her, putting my small make-up bag in my purse.
“Honey, Darcy is here for you. Are you going out tonight?”
“Oh yeah, Mom. You know, you guys have company and all. Darcy and I are just going to a dance club or two.”
“Lindsey,” she said, getting her “mom” tone on, “you aren’t old enough to be in those clubs.”
“Oh, come on, Mom. I didn’t say I was drinking. It’s a social thing.”
I could tell that she still was not comfortable with it. She needed to let it go. I was in college and entitled to my own social life. I certainly wasn’t going to wait until I was thirty-five years old to get one.
I brushed past her and headed down the stairs to where Darcy was waiting for me by the front door. She was dressed in a short leather skirt with a matching jacket.
Damn!
Apparently, the company had moved into the living room.
Right away I noticed Taz scoping me out. His eyes perused my body from top to bottom, and then back up again.
“It was nice meeting you, Roxie,” I called out to her as I buttoned up my jacket. “Taz, always a pleasure,” I lied, giving him a brief glance.
“Nice meetin’ you too, hon,” Roxie said giving me a smile. Taz simply nodded.
Slate was looking past me to where Mom was standing, giving her one of those, “where the hell is she going?” looks.
What the hell ever.
“See you in the morning, Mom. I’ll be late.”
I didn’t wait for a response. I gave Darcy “the look” which she knew to mean, “Let’s roll.”
Once we got out to Darcy’s sporty little BMW, she was all giggles.
“Who the hell are those two hotties in there?”
“The dark-haired one is my step-dad, the other one is an ass named Taz.”
CHAPTER 6
Darcy and I hit the first club called Dazzle.
It was packed with mostly college kids like us. My fake I.D. worked like magic. It hadn’t failed me yet.
We managed to find a two-seater table not too far from the dance floor, and squeezed through the bodies to grab it.
Darcy ordered a Bloody Parrot; I ordered a Thorny Mexican. We both liked our tequila different ways.
“Cheers,” she said, tapping her glass to mine.
“Here’s to holidays with the folks,” I smiled as I sipped my drink.
“So,” she said, “how long have you wanted to fuck Taz?”
I choked, nearly spewing Darcy with my Thorny Mexican. I hadn’t said a word to her whatsoever about Taz.
“And don’t bother pretending that you don’t.”
“I haven't a clue as to how you reached that deduction, Darcy. I mean God, he’s practically as old as Slate.”
“Which would be how old?”
“Slate is thirty-three. Taz will turn twenty-nine in December.”
“My my, you seem to know enough about a guy you claim you don’t want to fuck.”
I rolled my eyes at her. It was damn tough keeping things from Darcy even though I really hadn’t been trying. There was simply not anything of consequence to tell her. At least I hadn’t thought there was until now.
It had really pissed me off that Taz had felt the need to flaunt his girlfriend in front of me, in particular when he had just told me several weeks back that there was no one.
Darcy was watching me now, waiting for me to spill.
What the hell? Maybe it would be beneficial to have her perspective on it. At least I knew that she wouldn’t make fun of me.
She knew I was a virgin; she didn’t pass judgment.
She listened quietly as I shared everything that had happened the weekend my mom got married, or I should say, everything that didn’t happen as far as Taz was concerned.
“So, he shows up at your house this evening with the chick that has that Morticia Adams hairdo going on, huh?”
I had to smile. Darcy was being supportive in her own way.
“Come on, Darcy, she was pretty in an exotic kind of way. I have nothing against her. I just don’t believe that he has anything other than a sexual relationship with her.”
“What makes you think that?”
“It’s just a feeling,” I said with a shrug. “I think he was window dressing tonight on my behalf. He probably is shooting me down because of that kiss I gave him, because he liked it.”
“Maybe so,” she replied, taking a sip of her drink through the straw. “All I know is that if I still had my hymen intact, he would be the man I would freaking give it to.”
“Hmm,” I said, sucking my drink down thoughtfully.
Two cocktails later a couple of college guys
approached us to dance. Darcy and I always had a blast on the dance floor. We had a routine we occasionally did if we weren’t worried about impressing the guys we were dancing with. I waited for her signal.
The guy I was dancing with was totally consumed with his own good looks. I knew the type. It was a turnoff.
I could tell Darcy wasn’t impressed with her partner either. We were dancing to the classic 80’s tune, “Le Freak” which could drag out forever especially when dancing with a guy who didn’t do it for you.
I saw the signal. Darcy and I immediately left the guys and danced towards each other to the beat of Chic’s tune.
We danced provocatively against one another, allowing our hands to touch and glide along each other’s body. Our eyes locked and we gazed at each other seductively during the song, as we writhed to the quick beat of the music.
Out of my peripheral vision, I could see both dudes looking at one another in total confusion. They finally got the hint and walked off the dance floor as the song was winding down.
We returned to our table, laughing hysterically as we took our seats again having successfully scared off the guys.
“Works every time,” she laughed, sipping her drink.
A few moments later, our waiter set two fresh drinks down at our table, indicating they had been sent over by a couple at a table across the dance floor from us. Darcy and I both looked over to see a couple of lesbians blowing kisses over to us.
“Holy shit,” she said, smiling and waving back. “I hate when that happens.”
We both broke out into another fit of giggles when I felt my phone vibrate from the pocket of my tight skirt.
I pulled it out not recognizing the number coming up on the caller I.D. It was local. I answered, pressing one finger to the ear not up to the phone so I could hear whoever it was on the other end.
“Hello,” I halfway screamed.
“Where are you?” a semi-familiar voice asked.
Holy shit - Taz?
“Taz?”
Immediately, I saw Darcy’s head snap up to full attention. I motioned to her that I was going to go down the hallway to the restrooms so that I could hear.
