Young Enough (The Age Between Us Book 2)

by Charmaine Pauls

  The ugly, jealous part of me rears its head. I’m simultaneously embarrassed and hurt. It’s just flirting. Why is it affecting me? I’m not in high school, for God’s sake. Yet, I can no longer focus on the conversation around me.

  “Everything all right?” Brian asks, suddenly next to me.

  I shake away the feelings. “Yes. You?”

  “I’m ready to go, unless you want to hang out here a bit longer.” He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “Looks like you’re having fun.”

  “Ready.” I hand him my empty beer bottle.

  He leaves it on a nearby table and takes my hand, leading me to the door. Outside, we stop next to my car.

  “I want to show you something,” he says.

  “What?”

  “Follow me.”

  Without another word, he walks to his truck. I’m needy and hungry for him. I want him to take me to bed, but when we get to my place, he tells me to lock my car and get into the truck.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  As we cross over the highway and take the exit, our destination becomes clear. He’s taking me back to his place? He hasn’t invited me back since the incident with his mother, and I didn’t want to invite myself. Heading over to see his family wasn’t what I expected tonight.

  We park under the awning, but instead of leading me to the back door, he guides me to the cellar.

  The heavy hatch falls onto the grass with a thud when he opens it. He unlocks the security grid and removes the chain. When he flicks on a switch and light spills down the stairs, I suck in a breath. The place is completely transformed. The wooden staircase is solid. The walls are plastered, and the floor cemented. A sofa is pushed against the wall, facing a flat-screen television. A small bar-fridge stands in one corner and a cabinet with glasses next to it.

  “What do you think?” he asks.

  “When did you do all this?”

  “In the evenings. There’s a lot of work to do, still. It needs painting and a carpet, but it’ll make a cozy den. Come on.”

  He goes down the steep steps first and offers me a hand. Inside, I turn in a circle, admiring his work. It’s neatly done. The building experience came in handy. There’s a coffee table in front of the television stacked with electronic equipment, mostly cameras.

  I wave at the table. “What’s this?”

  “Old stuff I got from Tron. He gave me the television, too.”

  I don’t ask what work he had to do to earn the flat-screen. “This is where you chill?” I quote his slang from when he first showed me the cellar.

  “It’s quiet when I need to study.”

  Sleeping in the lounge isn’t ideal. Maybe this is a good time to bring up the issue that’s been bothering me since he invited me home. I don’t want him to think I’m interfering or questioning how he spends his money.

  “Do you sometimes think of getting a bigger place?”

  “All the time, but my mom can’t leave here.”

  I almost bite my tongue for the stupid comment. “How about extending the house? With your new salary it would be possible.”

  “Sam’s education is priority. She’s going to a private school next year.”

  Of course. That’s just what Brian would do.

  “The school she’s in now has a bad reputation. She’s getting bullied, but that’s not the point. She can handle herself,” he says proudly. “The point is that there are no computers, no science equipment, and it’s infested with drug dealers.”

  My heart softens even more for the man facing me, a man so much older than his years. “She’s lucky to have you as a big brother.”

  “Come here.” He pulls his phone from his back pocket and leaves it on the table. Then he sits down on the sofa and pulls me down to straddle him.

  I push on his chest, glancing at the open hatch. “What about Sam and your mother?”

  “Sam will be in bed already, and my mom never comes outside. No one is going to walk in on us,” he says with a mischievous grin. He cups my jaw and draws me closer. “I’ve been wanting to do this all night.”

  When his tongue traces the seam of my lips, my belly flutters. I open my mouth to give him access and gasp when he steals inside, seducing me into a puddle of desire with a gentle kiss. He takes his time, molding his lips over mine in an easy and unrushed pace. He kisses me with his eyes open, taking in my expression with the intensity I came to associate with his brooding, dark eyes. The caress is tender and sweet, but my need skyrockets. My clit and folds swell. Wetness gathers between my thighs. Moaning, I grind down on his erection. His hands slip from my face to my hips, supporting me as I rock rhythmically against him while he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and gives a gentle nip.

  The leather of his bracelet chaffs my skin as our pace picks up. His fingers dig deeper into my flesh until I feel them to my bones. The tenderness transforms into the fire that always consumes us, our hands roaming and groping while our moans fill the space.

  In one movement, he lifts me to my feet. “Undress.”

  As always, he watches me while I do. When I’m left with only the thigh-high stockings and boots, he says, “Leave them on. I’ve been fantasizing about these legs in those boots all night, too.”

  The confession pleases me. At least his fantasies were about me, even if another woman had her hand on his leg and her lips against his ear.

  He reaches around me for his phone and a remote. A second later the television comes on.

  “We’re watching movies?” I ask, surprised.

  “Yes. Come sit on my lap.”

  I like the idea. I’m about to climb on sideways when he catches my hips and turns me around. Pulling me back, he makes me straddle him again, but facing forward. My legs are spread wide and my pussy open and needy. My breasts beg for attention. He flicks a thumb over the screen of his phone. When an image of us fills the television screen, I understand what kind of movie we’re going to watch.

  I suck in a breath as sounds and motion unfold. My ass is high in the air, stretched by the vibrator, and my pussy is on display. It’s weird to see myself like this. It makes me blush, but it also turns me on, and when Brian enters me with a violent thrust on the screen, more moisture leaks between my legs.

  He pulls my chest against his back and tweaks my nipples between his fingers. “Does it turn you on?” he whispers in my neck.

  Goosebumps run over my skin. “It does.” Not only the lustful sounds and images, but also his hands on me now.

  His voice is wicked. “Mm, let’s see how much.”

  His palm flattens between my breasts. Slowly, he drags it down my body until he cups my soaking sex.

  “This much,” he says, his tone pleased.

  Pressing two fingers together, he rubs them over my clit. My hips lift of their own accord. My head falls back, and my eyes flutter close.

  He nips my ear. “Watch.”

  I do as I’m told. He’s fucking me so hard in our private movie he has to keep my body up with one arm. The memory of those sensations deep in my core make my pussy clench. I need to touch him. He doesn’t object as I lift to my knees to undo his zipper and free his cock. The head is wet with pre-cum. I use my hand to smear it over his long shaft, lubricating him before closing my fingers and squeezing.

  He hisses. His grip on my hips tightens before he pulls me almost violently back down in his lap. His cock is jutting out in front of my pussy between my spread legs. I can’t help but rock my hips forward, dragging my clit over his hard length.

  “Goddammit.” He groans.

  I get no warning as he circles my waist with both hands, lifts me higher, and positions his cock at my entrance. He impales me with a hard thrust, slamming up as he brings my body down. Our groins crush together. He’s so deep inside it hurts. There’s no time to find my balance. He lifts me an inch and pivots his hips, ramming his cock into my body, but I’m wet and ready, taking him easily. Then he reverses the action
, keeping still but lifting me up and down by the waist. He keeps a hard rhythm that’s in sync with what’s happening on the screen. I’m close, but I won’t come if he doesn’t touch my clit.

  As if reading my mind, he slows his pace, rolling his hips rather than thrusting. His cock hits a spot deep inside that has my thighs clenching. I dig my fingers into the fabric of his jeans, trying to find leverage as he folds one big hand around my neck, pulling my back to his chest. Finally, his free hand moves to my clit. My back is arched in this position, pushing my pussy forward and spreading me wider. I cry out, trying to bite back a scream when he pinches my clit and rolls it between his fingers the way I like.

  He’s close, because he’s swelling inside me. My release starts to build in par with the woman’s on the screen. He rubs my clit harder and fucks me faster, deeper. The pleasure coils. It heats my body. I cup his balls as he slams his groin against my ass. If it weren’t for his grip on my neck, holding me still, my body would’ve lifted straight off his lap. His fingers close marginally, not choking me, but claiming dominance.

  Everything inside contracts as pleasure rips through me. My scream is an echo of the one coming from the screen. He curses and keeps still, his cock jerking inside me. He rolls his hips up, settling deeper as warm jets fills my channel. I let him wring every aftershock from me with his fingers on my clit until we both sag back onto the couch, spent.

  He keeps his hand on my sex and caresses my neck and jaw with the other, stroking my shoulder, arm, and breasts. We take our time to come down from our high, the screen now black. When I’ve found my breath, he lifts me off his cock and makes me lie down on my back. Bending my knees, he pulls off his T-shirt and uses it to clean me. How does he do that? How does he control my orgasm to the point of perfect timing? He rolls the T-shirt into a ball and throws it on the floor. Then he plants a kiss on my clit before crawling up my body to kiss my nipples. It’s like foreplay in reverse, like we went for the wild stuff first to enjoy the sweetness after. He licks and sucks my nipples until my need starts building again, and then he kisses my lips while he makes the sweetest, gentlest love to me.

  Afterward, he pulls a throw over us, holding me in his arms. I’m sleepy and satisfied, but the night gets fresh quickly now that the heatwave has broken, and the cellar is cold. Soon, I start shivering.

  He kisses my shoulder. “Let’s get you dressed before you catch a cold.”

  He helps me dress and goes ahead of me up the steps to help me out. His chest is naked, but the cold doesn’t seem to affect him. He makes me get into the truck and starts the engine with the heater on full blast while he goes into the house to get a shirt and jacket.

  When he comes back, I’m halfway asleep. He gets in but just sits and stares at me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I’m not leaving you like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “Tired and cold.”

  “I’m fine. Better, actually. I’m fantastic.”

  “Stay the night.”

  “Here?”

  “I can’t leave my sister and mom alone, not the whole night.”

  “I understand, but what about them if we wake up together in your bed?”

  “Sam’s a big girl. She knows about the birds and bees, and it’s not like I have to ask my mother’s permission.”

  It’s a long drive to my place, and it’s late. The roads are not safe at this time of night. We’re both tired. I’m not comfortable letting him drive back and forth. “All right.”

  Back in the house, he makes me tea and toast before ordering me to the bathroom. After a warm shower, he gives me one of his T-shirts to wear. We snuggle up in his sofa bed in the dark lounge, and although I’m not at ease with sleeping here with his mother and sister next door, I fall into a deep sleep in his arms, not waking until the sun is high and bright in the room. The only thing brighter than the sun is Sam’s smile as she stares down at us.

  Shit!

  I jackknife into a sitting position, clutching the sheet to my chest.

  “You’re wearing Brian’s T-shirt,” she says.

  Brian stirs. He stretches, opens his eyes, and blinks. “Hey, piglet. Did you wake Jane?”

  “It’s ten o’clock.”

  Brian yawns. “We had a late night.”

  “Is that why she slept over?”

  He sits up, pulling me closer with an arm around my shoulders. “No. She slept over because that’s what girlfriends do.”

  My insides heat at the statement. I’m proud to be with him. I’m proud of everything Brian is.

  “Mom’s making breakfast.” Sam turns and leaves.

  I glance at Brian. This is going to be awkward. He cups my face and kisses me as if I’m made of spun glass.

  “Morning. Sleep well?”

  “Great, thanks.”

  He throws back the covers. “I’ll get you some pants.”

  A moment later, he enters with a pair of his sweatpants. I have to roll them up at the waist and ankles. After finger brushing my hair and teeth, I go down the hallway to join Brian and his family in the kitchen. From the laughter that reaches me before I round the doorframe, it’s a jovial affair.

  Music is playing on the radio. Jasmine is frying bacon and eggs while Sam is making toast. Brian is in charge of the coffee.

  “Good morning.” Brian’s mother greets me with a warm smile. “I’m Jasmine.”

  “Mom, this is Jane.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jasmine.”

  “The plates and mugs are over there.” She points at a cupboard.

  Locating the crockery and cutlery, I set the table while they finish preparing breakfast.

  “How was last night?” Jasmine asks when we sit down.

  “Fun,” Brian says. He puts rashers of bacon and a slice of toast on my plate.

  Sam leans her chin in her hands. “Who all was there?”

  “Elbows off the table, young lady,” Brian says. “Just about the whole class from school.”

  Sam sits up straight, resting her hands in her lap. “That must’ve been boring. Most of them are losers.”

  Brian gives her a warning look.

  I laugh. “I got to hear all the interesting stories about your brother.”

  Jasmine chuckles. “I can see how that must’ve been fun.”

  The ringtone of my phone sounds from the lounge.

  I get to my feet. “Excuse me, but it may be my daughter.”

  As I suspected, Abby’s name shows on the screen. I close the door, because I can’t explain Brian and his family’s presence, yet. Abby wants to know if she can stay until early evening. She wants to go shopping with Jordan and Loretta for new clothes for Jordan. Since she doesn’t have an exam on Monday, I agree. Time with her best friend will do her good.

  “Everything all right?” Brian asks as I reenter the kitchen.

  “Fine. It was Abby.” For Jasmine and Sam’s benefits, I add, “My daughter. She’s spending the day with a friend.” Maybe it’s a good opportunity for Sam and I to also do some shopping.

  After breakfast, I run the idea past Sam, who’s jumping up and down at the suggestion. Brian is planning on closing himself up in the cellar to study and has no objections. It strikes me as odd that Sam asks permission from Brian and not her mother. Either way, I want to be sure Jasmine is fine with me taking her daughter to the mall, but after I’ve dressed in my clothes from the night before and go look for her, she’s in her room, having what Sam calls her mid-morning nap.

  Brian drops Sam and I off at my place to get my car and a change of clothes. Sam walks through the cottage, admiring the stone walls and panoramic views while Brian pulls me into a hug.

  He kisses my forehead. “I’ll miss you.”

  “We’ll be back before teatime.”

  “I’ll keep my phone on. Call if there’s a problem.”

  His protectiveness makes me smile. “There won’t be, but thanks.”

  He shoves a roll of bills in my hand.
“I really appreciate this.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  I’m not a big shopper, but Sam’s excitement is contagious, plus I get why this is a big deal for her.

  We drive to the Menlyn mall where there are a variety of stores. After visiting five clothing shops and letting Sam try on countless dresses, T-shirts, and jeans, we settle on an ensemble of a dress and denim jacket with sandals. The color compliments her eyes and skin tone, and the style is versatile enough to be worn to casual parties or fancier events like weddings. My gift is a pair of earrings to match. After hot chocolate and carrot cake at Mugg & Bean, we call it a day, tired but happy. We’ve accomplished our mission.

  It’s just after four when I drop off Sam. She scurries into the house with her loot, unpacking everything on the kitchen table for Jasmine to admire.

  “That’s pretty,” Jasmine says, holding the dress up to Sam’s body. “You’re going to look beautiful.” She hands Sam the dress. “Put it in the hamper. We’ll rinse it before you wear it, and go put away your earrings so you don’t lose them.”

  As Sam skips out of the kitchen with her parcels, Jasmine sits down at the table and lights a cigarette.

  Since Brian’s truck is in the driveway, I assume he’s still in the cellar. “I’ll go say hi to Brian, and then I must be off. I have to pick up Abby in an hour.”

  “Sit.” Jasmine lifts her eyes to me. “If you have a minute.”

  “Of course.” I sit down in the chair opposite her.

  She tips her ash. “Thank you for what you did for my daughter, today.”

  The words are loaded, but even heavier are the words she didn’t say. Thank you for doing what she can’t.

  God, what a sad thought. For her sake, for Sam and Brian’s sakes, I hope she’ll seek help. The psychological illness that is driving her to drink and self-imprisonment isn’t going away by itself. I’m not a psychologist, but I know how crippling fear and depression can be. How do I broach the subject without being offensive? I’m a stranger. It doesn’t seem right to meddle in her private affairs. Will she be angry with Brian for confiding in me? Do I dare risk his trust by telling her I know? Before I have time to decide if I should say something, she speaks again.