by Nicki Elson
Jen inhaled, thinking maybe a giant drink was exactly what she needed to drown her unwelcome revelations about David. Several gulps later, she set the empty Mason jar onto the table. The corners of her eyes watered from the effort of guzzling so much so quickly. She peered through her blurred vision toward the fireplace.
David was gone.
So was the girl.
Chapter 6
Jen had planned to wait until she was out of her walking cast before accelerating things with Big D, but she reached her breaking point a week early, just before Valentine’s Day. The two of them were studying at the dining table in the front room at Barton House. D’s roommate Matt had just left and the other guys were already out, so Jen and D had the place to themselves. In deep concentration over his Tax Accounting text, he occasionally stuck out his tongue, clenching it between his teeth while he read. Then he started subconsciously tapping the wet, pink muscle with his pencil as he memorized complex tax rules.
Jen tried to focus on her economics essay, but her eyes were constantly drawn to D’s tongue. She scratched out a few words on Keynesian theories and listened to her boyfriend’s deep, rhythmic exhalations. She was used to the good girl role, but she’d been going out with D for almost four months and didn’t think it would be wrong for her to get a tiny bit more aggressive. After all, God wouldn’t have given her such a handsome, strong, sexy boyfriend if He didn’t want her to make good use of him.
She got up from her chair and gimped around the corner of the table, inserting herself between D and his book. “Sweetie, I’m jealous of your pencil.”
D released it from between his teeth and held it out to her. “You want to borrow it?”
“No.” She took the pencil and laid it on the table. “I want to borrow you.” Holding both sides of his face in her hands, she planted what she hoped was a seductive kiss on his mouth. He returned the gesture, but started pulling back after the usual couple of minutes. Jen moved her hands through his sculpted hair to the back of his head and held him close. He wasn’t getting away from her this time.
With her mouth opened wide against his, she couldn’t say anything, so she let out a whimper as a way to beg him to keep going. He responded by standing and sliding a hand into her hair, tilting her head back. He pressed his other hand to the base of her spine, pulling her to him.
The kiss became more urgent. His mouth left Jen’s to travel down her jaw and neck and slide to the small V of skin exposed by her button-down top. Jen released her fingers from the hair she’d mussed and frantically worked to unbutton her blouse. D followed the wide trail of flesh Jen made for him. He kissed all the way down to her navel, and then straightened, locking his smoldering eyes with hers. He’d clearly been waiting for her to make the first move, and she was oh so glad she had.
Without breaking their gaze, D slowly ran his hands over Jen’s shoulders and slid her shirt down her arms to her wrists. He gripped her naked waist with his strong hands and lifted her to sit on the table. His eyes now left hers to travel along her exposed skin. “You’re so beautiful, Jenny.”
In her excitement, Jen swore she could actually feel corpuscles exploding throughout her body. She beamed a smile on D as he reached a hand behind her head to pull her into another steamy kiss. Jen wanted to wrap her arms around him and maybe find a way to expose more of his skin, but she discovered that her wrists wouldn’t budge from the table. When D had set her down, she must’ve sat on her shirt, and now the cuffs of her blouse held her trapped.
D leaned back, noticing her predicament, and gave her a lecherous smirk. He lunged forward to slide his lips over her collar bone and down. As he tickled her cleavage with baby kisses, Jen sucked in a sharp breath and whispered, “It’s a front clasp.”
He fumbled with the closure and snapped her bra open. Sliding his big hands over her breasts, he bent forward to softly lick one stiff nipple and then the other. Then he feasted. His thick tongue moved hot and fast, its force taking Jen by surprise after so many weeks of nothing. She moved to clutch her fingers into his hair but was reminded of her helplessness when her wrists stayed fast to the table. There was nothing for her to do but sit back and enjoy. She closed her eyes and thought of herself as a canvas on an easel being painted glorious colors by D’s artistic tongue.
She reached her legs around his torso and pulled him to her. Pressing her hips against him, she let out a small moan. Stimulated by D’s mouth and her small pulses against his firm abdomen, Jen yearned for D to slip himself inside of her. There was no way she’d let things get that far just yet, but she could fantasize while they enjoyed each other.
A scratching noise sounded by the front door. Jen slackened her legs around D and shot him an alarmed glance. He raised his eyes to her, his mouth filled with her breast, and gave his head a slight shake, indicating that Jen shouldn’t worry about it.
She couldn’t believe conservative D continued to suckle on her while one of his roommates was about to walk in. But she considered that she was pretty well covered by his head and hands, and even if they stopped now, it’d be pretty obvious what had been going on. Whoever was coming into the house would probably only snicker and walk quickly by, more embarrassed than either D or Jen. She clamped her eyes shut as the door creaked open.
“Surprise!” was belted out in a woman’s voice.
D jerked back, his lips making a smacking noise as they broke suction.
Jen’s eyes snapped open to see D standing three feet away from her. A middle-aged woman with brown, chin-length hair stared open-mouthed at Jen’s bared breasts.
“Mom!” D gasped.
Jen made a move to cover herself, but her hands remained trapped. She sat there completely exposed while a middle-aged man, whom Jen could only assume was D’s father, stepped into the house. Just like his wife, his gaze became caught in Jen’s headlights.
D’s dad politely tore his eyes from Jen and let out a nervous chuckle. Cupping his hands around his wife’s elbows, he pulled her toward the door as she continued to stare, her mouth slack. “Let’s let these two get themselves together, and we’ll try that again,” he said.
The moment the front door shut with D’s parents on the other side of it, Jen hopped off the table and secured her bra. D’s hands flew to her shirt, roughly covering and buttoning. He put the buttons in the wrong holes so that Jen had to undo and refasten all of them.
“Holy shit. Holy shit!” he repeated, stepping away from her and pacing.
Jen was right there with him in the mortification department. Meeting his parents this way was out of a nightmare. But seeing D so utterly freaked and thinking of the stunned look on poor Mrs. Spencer’s face took the edge off her humiliation. She found the situation so awful that it became hysterical. Her sudden amusement came out in a snort.
D shot her an annoyed glare. “My dad’s probably out there hooking my mom onto a ventilator or something.”
Jen snickered, thinking he was making a joke.
“I’m serious! She’s got high cholesterol.”
Jen burst into a fit of giggles.
D started at her, not cracking even a hint of a smile. “You’d better pull yourself together.”
“I’m sorry,” Jen gasped between laughs. “It’s just…I’m sorry.” She laid a hand on D’s shoulder and took deep, cleansing breaths as she wiped away the few tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes. When she’d stopped laughing for long enough, he opened the door and let his parents back in.
“Sorry,” D mumbled, staring at the ground.
“I’m really sorry, too,” Jen said, hoping nothing new would strike her as funny within the next few minutes.
“Not at all, not at all,” said Mr. Spencer. “We should’ve knocked.” He gave his wife an I-told-you-so glance. “We’re all adults. Let’s just forget it happened and move on.”
Jen smiled and grasped his outstretched hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
A little while later, she departed Barton House
with plans to go to church and brunch with D and his parents the following morning. The four of them started on a fresh page on Sunday, and Jen felt secure that her invitation to Sanibel was still open…although she suspected D’s mom might set her up in a hotel room at the opposite end of the island from her son.
***
If Big D had been cautious about touching Jen before, he became an absolute priest after the surprise visit from his parents. She was lucky to get anything more than a good night peck on the cheek. The most physical they got with each other was when D coached her through the leg exercises recommended by her doctor as therapy.
Under her boyfriend’s influence, she’d started going to the weight room at the rec center a few times a week to work out the rest of her muscles. The two of them had also been attending Sunday church services more regularly. Any sexual frustration Jen felt with D was easily outweighed by how good he was for her.
The Wednesday before spring break, Jen stepped out of the weight room wearing one of Big D’s oversized Sigma Chi T-shirts. David crossed directly in front of her. He wore gray sweats and a dingy Plimsoles T-shirt that looked like it’d probably fall apart after one more washing.
“Hey,” Jen said, keeping her tone from being too enthusiastic. After Joe’s party, she didn’t expect him to stop and talk.
His gaze snapped toward her. “Hey.” One side of his mouth twitched up in a smile, and his eyes lowered to her ankle. “Cast is totally gone, huh?”
“Yep. A month ago.” He actually had stopped walking, but a silence settled between them. It felt wrong. Jen wanted to fix it. “I’m sorry I never thanked you for staying with me in Springfield.”
“You did.”
“No, I mean a real thank you, like sending a fruit basket or at least a card. It was really, really nice of you, and you didn’t have to do it. But I appreciated it so much.”
“I know you did.” He titled his head, keeping his eyes on hers. Something in the small motion reassured her of his sincerity. “I’m glad I was there.”
They stared at each other for a few moments, and then David’s eyes flicked up toward the weight room sign. “Pumping iron?” he asked.
Jen nodded. “D’s got me on a strict regimen. Check it out.” She flexed her arm, showing off the bump of her bicep.
“Whoa.” David’s eyebrows arched, displaying an appropriate level of admiration.
“What’re you doing here?” Jen asked.
“I’ve taken up running.”
“Really?” It struck her as very Danny Zuko going out for the track team.
“I’ve been interviewing with some companies in California, so I figured I’d better start working on my beach body.” He’d said it lightly, as if moving across the country was no big deal.
“California?” She hated to think of David so far away, though she knew realistically it wouldn’t make any difference. Chances were they’d lose touch after graduation, anyhow.
He lowered his gaze to the shiny tile. “Maybe it won’t work out. Who knows?”
Jen didn’t want their conversation to turn melancholy. “I wouldn’t stress about the workouts—from what I remember, your body’s already pretty darn beach-worthy.”
David responded with a bright, surprised smile. Their eyes danced across the few feet that separated them. They hadn’t hinted at their sexual escapades since that embarrassing night at the beginning of junior year.
Jen leaned forward, adding in a low voice, “You’re still the best I’ve ever had.”
“Really?” A cocky grin played at his lips.
“Uh, yeah, ’cause you’re still the only one!”
David’s eyes widened in shock. “Wait, no…really?”
“Yes, really. Did you think I was lying to you about waiting?”
“No. But you and D are getting serious. Sure seems like he’s the kind of guy you’ve been waiting for.”
“He might be. He probably is. But…things…stuff. ” She shrugged. “We’re not quite there yet.”
“Yet,” David repeated.
“There you are! Are you coming?” someone shouted from down the hall.
Jen slid her gaze sideways to see Ellie. If it hadn’t been for her distinctive voice, Jen might not’ve known it was her. The long, straight hair that typically hung like curtains on the side of her face was tied back into a tight braid. Her loose, gauzy flowerchild top had been replaced with a regular old T-shirt.
“Coming, peaches,” David called before looking back to Jen and rolling his eyes. “See ya.”
“Bye.”
As she walked to her apartment, Jen felt a twinge of guilt for the direction of her joking with David. She’d never have said any of those things in front of Ellie or Big D. She wondered if David had told his girlfriend about their sexcapades and if that was the reason Ellie didn’t like her. He’d promised to keep it a secret, but girlfriends were a special case. Jen wouldn’t blame him for sharing it with Ellie. As a matter of fact, the longer things continued with Big D, the more Jen knew she was going to have to tell him about it, too.
Chapter 7
When D’s parents picked Jen and D up at the airport in Fort Myers, they greeted her like an old friend. She didn’t sense any lingering discomfort or judgement over their initial meeting. Big D and Jen had driven to the St. Louis airport where they’d met his younger brothers, Tim and George, and they’d all flown together to Florida.
“It’s so nice to have my little birdies all in the same nest,” Mrs. Spencer said, giving each of her sons a second round of hugs. Winking at Jen, she added, “And it’ll be wonderful to have double the girl power on this trip.”
They drove to the large, three-bedroom condo with beach access that the Spencers rented each year. The unit was bright and airy with modern, beachy décor. Jen was given the small bedroom that was usually D’s. For this trip, he’d sleep on the trundle in the den. After stowing their bags in their rooms and changing into shorts, D led Jen over a narrow, weather-beaten bridge to a sandy path that eventually opened to the beach. They walked along the edge of the water, holding hands and soaking in the heat. Jen had never been to this part of Florida before and was amazed by the blankets of shells lying in strips across the sand. She stopped often to scoop up a handful and examine them closer.
Their quiet contentment was interrupted when the water around them exploded with splashes made by pounding feet. Tim and George had made their grand entrance into the Gulf of Mexico. Tim was tall and brawny, like D, while his fraternal twin’s leaner frame only topped Jen by a couple of inches. After getting pelted by bullets of cold saltwater, Big D tackled Tim into the surf, apparently forgetting he hadn’t yet changed into his swim trunks.
Jen screamed and ran to dry land when George made a move for her. He chased her down and grabbed her from behind, trapping her arms at her sides. She dug her feet into a pile of shells and sand as she struggled against him. He was surprisingly strong for a skinny guy. With his arms clamped around her, they made slow progress toward the water.
D rushed the beach to come to Jen’s rescue. George slackened his grip at his hulking brother’s approach, and Jen broke free. Squealing, she ran to her soaking wet boyfriend and jumped onto him, wrapping her legs around his waist. George raced to the water.
With a firm arm around Jen, D spun toward the gulf, laughing and shouting, “Punks!” Tim and George wrestled together in the surf like hyperactive puppy dogs.
“I guess I might as well have let him throw me in.” Jen looked down at her clothes, now damp from pressing against D and being manhandled by George.
D loosened his arms, lowering Jen, but she tightened her legs around him. “Kiss me, you fool.”
He pressed his mouth to hers then pulled back, but not all the way. His lips still rested on hers. “Like that?”
“Uh-huh.” Jen nodded.
“Or like this?” He tilted his head and went in for another, longer kiss.
“That was pretty good,” Jen mumbled against h
is mouth as D started walking toward the house.
“Maybe you’ll like it better this way.” He tilted his head to the other side and kissed her again, still walking and holding her to him.
“Mmm…I’m going to need to see other way again.”
“If you insist.”
They carried on like that all the way across the sandy beach and along the trail. D didn’t stop kissing Jen until they reached the bridge and he set her down. “Careful of splinters,” he warned, “And watch out for the uneven boards. We don’t need you breaking your other ankle.”
“Hey!” Jen said in mock offence.
His steel blue eyes tightened and his mouth pressed in to a straight line. “I’m just looking out for you. I won’t let you get hurt like what’s-his-name did.”
“You know his name’s David—same as yours. And it wasn’t his fault.” She lifted on tiptoes to give her boyfriend a light peck on the nose. “But I do appreciate having my own personal Superman.”
The family spent the next day at the wildlife refuge. Jen and D wandered off together along the trails, spotting lots of birds and turtles and a few alligators. They even had a lucky otter sighting. In the evening, the two of them stayed back at the condo to help D’s parents prepare dinner—guys at the grill and girls in the kitchen—while Tim and George wreaked havoc at the small pool downstairs.
Jen enjoyed the sedate, family-oriented nature of the trip. She felt very adult and civilized accepting a mixed drink from Mr. Spencer and sipping it slowly rather than slamming it with the sole aim of getting drunk. There were times, however, during the next few days when she lay by the pool or strolled along the beach that she longed for the wildness of her Daytona Beach trip. She could hardly believe it had only been two years earlier.
Her friend Chris was down the coastline all the way past the tip of Florida at the Keys. After tiring of a two-on-two Nerf ball game on the beach with D and his brothers, Jen left them to go back to the condo and pour herself a margarita. D’s parents were out visiting friends in Cape Coral. Taking her drink down to the pool, she called Chris.
