by Rylee Swann
“It’s okay.” She releases my hands and reaches up to hug me. “But he is here and he’s not going away. You have to find out. Then you’ll know, whichever way it goes, you’ll know.”
8
Jayson
Three of my coworkers have asked me to lunch. Although I’ve become friendly with them—and am pleased to be making inroads toward real friendship—I turned each of them down.
Instead, on my lunch break, I sit at my desk staring at my phone. I need to make a call and have been putting it off. I can’t any longer. It’s for work, I remind myself for the umpteenth time but it doesn’t make dialing Dee’s number any easier. She shot me down hard the other day, and even so, I still want to extend this courtesy.
Well, that’s what I’ve decided to tell myself.
Running a hand over my face, I take a deep breath. Giving in to crippling fear is the old me. I don’t absolutely need to call her for work. I’m making excuses.
I want to hear her voice. Try to make things better between us.
Fuck this.
Grabbing up the phone, I dial her number before I chicken out again.
“Hello?” Two syllables and I know it’s Dee. Her voice is so sweet.
Realizing I haven’t responded, I force my mouth to open. “Hey, it’s me, Jayson.”
“Oh.” She doesn’t sound thrilled. In fact, her tone is downright cold.
I didn’t expect any better though. I just need some time to warm her up enough so she’ll listen to me. But that won’t happen right now. This call is about business and my best bet is to keep it short, not give her a chance to hate me any more than she already does.
“Yeah, I guess I’m not the person you want to hear from.” She makes a little sound in her throat that I take as agreement. Ah, well. “Anyway, I won’t take up your time. Just wanted to let you know that I’m meeting with Isaac’s mother tomorrow, if you want to be there. She told me she’d appreciate your presence.”
“Oh,” she says again but this time there’s a hint of interest in her voice. “Yes, I’d like to. Thank you for asking.”
Smiling, my heavy heart lightens just a little. “Cool, I’ll be at her apartment at eleven tomorrow. So, I guess I’ll see you then.”
“Yes.” There’s an awkward silence and I wonder if I should hang up. “Umm, Jayson, one other quick thing.”
I’m glad I didn’t. “Yeah, sure.”
“I’m sorry about the other day. I...”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“No, just let me say this, okay?” I keep quiet and she continues. “Running out on you like that was childish. Regardless of where things stand with us, that’s no reason to be rude.” A slight quiver in her voice tells me she’s doing her best to keep it together. “So, I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t keep this gigantic smile off my face if I tried. I love this woman so damned much. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” This time I do hang up.
I spend the rest of my lunchtime grinning like a fool.
In the morning, I wake hard and horny, unwilling to let go of the pleasant dream of Dee in my bed.
I didn’t sleep much last night. Thoughts of Dee kept me tossing and turning. And, when I did finally fall asleep, I dreamed of her. Remembering how I’d sink deep within her slick, wet folds. Breathe in her musky scent. Taste her. Grow harder with each sweet mewling sound as I suck on her nipples. Thrusting with unrelenting vigor at each scrape of her nails down my back. Her screams when I bring her to orgasm—I always loved to make her scream—and her writhing beneath me, driving me wild. My cock buried in her, throbbing and pulsing as I come.
Oh, fuck, how she could make me come. In long streams of ropy cum.
Yanking one off before seeing her in a couple of hours doesn’t seem right or do her justice, but it’s my only outlet. So, cock in hand, I step into a steaming hot shower. Leaning back against the chilly tiles, I shut my eyes, my tight grip working my cock. I just want to get off, not live in the past the way I’d done all night. Yet, a memory of the way Dee loved for me to tell her what to do in bed makes it that much harder to complete this solitary quickie.
“Spread your legs,” I mutter beneath the steady stream of water. “That’s it. Don’t move.”
In my fantasy, the shower disappears and Dee is lying on the bed beneath me. She opens her legs wide to expose her engorged pink pussy. I’m going to fuck her so hard and she can’t wait. Her light brown eyes, so expressive, tell me to hurry.
Shaking my head, I twirl a finger in the air. Her brows draw together in confusion.
“Turn over and get on all fours.” I decide to fuck her from behind, take the driver’s seat to plow into her.
Dee’s mouth forms a perfect little “o” of understanding and she complies without hesitation, presenting her ass high in the air to me. I give it a couple of stinging slaps to her squeals of surprise.
Grabbing her hips, I position my cock at her entrance and pull her back onto it. It slides in easily, her channel already slick with arousal. She cries out with each thrust, her large breasts clapping together like I’m getting an encore for a job not yet complete. Her back starts to rise like she’s seeking escape from the sweet torment but I keep her still with a hand.
“Do you like this? I growl through ragged breaths.
She heaves in a gulp to form words. “Yes, god, yes.”
“Reach back and play with your clit.” Dee tends not to orgasm in this position and I want her as stimulated as possible. I want us to come together. She sucks air into her lungs and shifts her weight to follow my directions. “Tell me how it feels, what you’re doing.”
“So good. Oh god. I’m fingering my pussy. Flicking it back and forth. Faster…faster…” She’s moaning and her words become almost unintelligible. She’s close and I thrust harder, faster while picturing her finger punishing her hard pink little bud.
“That’s it, lover…fuck, yeah…”
Thrusting my hips forward, I squeeze my cock in my hand while imagining it inside the beautiful woman I’ve always loved. A savage groan slips past my lips. Dee’s screams echo around me and I come, my body jerking in spasms.
In a heated blur, I watch my seed disappear down the drain. I want more. Her.
With a groan borne of frustration this time, I turn the cold water on full blast. The sudden frigid spray is painful but I need the sting to release me of my desire.
The cold therapy works and, shivering, I step from the shower and wrap a fluffy white towel around my waist. Running a hand through my hair, I wipe the steam from the mirror over the sink to stare at my reflection. I used to hate what I saw with a mad intensity so strong it sometimes frightened me. Dee was the one who calmed the beast, and when I lost her, I finally woke up to the necessity of healing myself. I needed to be capable of loving myself. Worthy of Dee loving me. Not until the demons were destroyed did I realize that Dee had always loved me for me.
I sneer at my reflection and laugh. I guess I’m a little nervous about seeing Dee today. She’s never seen the professional me and I want everything to go just so. I’m confident in my abilities and, so far, Isaac’s case is fairly clear-cut. The unknown catalyst is Isaac’s mother.
I have to admit I’m more than a little curious to meet her. When a woman is described as a witch, it does conjure images. Yet, Isaac is about as normal as they come. And I’ve always known Dee to be a good judge of character, so I imagine that Gemma Napoli isn’t any more of a wack job than any other harried mother.
I need this meeting to go well. For Isaac’s sake, my sake, and for the sake of any possibility with Dee ever again.
Yeah, no pressure.
I snort and finish my bathroom ritual of shaving, brushing my hair and applying cologne before dressing in black jeans and white shirt. Dee loves black and white, so my choice of clothing is by design. I know her so well and can’t wait to be allowed to please her again.
Dee is already at the Napoli apartment when I knock prompt
ly at eleven a.m.
She opens the door with a faint smile as she looks me up and down. She’s gorgeous, as always. Her shoulder-length dark brown hair especially lustrous and her light brown eyes alive with interest.
“Jayson, come in.” I very nearly grow hard again when her lips form my name. “This is Gemma, Isaac’s mother.”
As I step inside, I lightly brush my fingertips across Dee’s back. “It’s good to see you again.” Then, turning to Gemma I say, “And, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Napoli.”
I smile, noting that she is not wearing a black pointed hat, her clothing is colorful, and there’s no large wart at the end of her nose. Good. Not that I expected the cliché witch, well, not really. I hold out my hand for her to shake and she does with a strong, warm grip while waving me off with her other hand.
“Gemma. I don’t know who Ms. Napoli is.” She motions for me to take a seat in the living room. “I’m pleased to meet you, too, if not a little worried about the reason you’re here. My son means the world to me. If anything…”
I sit on a couch that has seen better days, the beige material worn and tearing. None of the furniture matches, and the clutter of mystical wiccan objects gives the living room a claustrophobic atmosphere. Not having the resources for a home out of House and Garden is nothing to judge her on but I will need to view Isaac’s room. I’m here to explain the situation but to also offer any help I can.
Gemma sits beside me. Dee pulls in a chair from the kitchen and placing it nearby, sits quietly.
“Gemma, let me stop you right there. We’re in a very good position with your son, with Isaac. I’ve only met with him a couple of times and thank you for giving me permission to do so. I can already tell that he’s a good kid who’s had a good upbringing. And, I promise you,” I lean toward her for emphasis, “I’m going to get him through this.”
Dee is trying to keep an outwardly calm appearance but there’s surprise in her eyes. No hint of a frown. I’m going to give myself a few points toward winning her over.
“I hope so, Mr. Fox—”
“Jayson,” I interject.
“Jayson.” Gemma sighs, wringing her hands in her lap like they’re at war with each other. I try not to stare. “I feel like this is all my fault.”
I look at her appraisingly before turning to Dee. “How much did you tell her?”
“Everything,” she says and pauses, making eye contact with me. I nod. Gemma knows about my history with Dee. I’m not surprised, they’re friends. They share their stories. “That I knew about Isaac, I mean. That you told me, of course.”
Her face reddens and a slight smile lifts the corners of my mouth. Fuck, I want to crush her to me. Kiss her breath away. Take her to bed.
Stop it, Fox. Don’t fuck up.
I clear my throat. “Good, that’s good. Thank you.” I turn back to Gemma. “Why do you think this is your fault?”
Tears well in the woman’s eyes. I wait patiently while she gathers herself. I have a hunch what she’s going to say.
“I umm…smoke…weed on occasion. I should have been setting a better example for him.”
I nod at her admission. I wasn’t wrong about my hunch. She’s clearly struggling with her emotions. It’s time to give her some peace of mind so she can focus on helping her son.
“It’s alright. Give yourself a break,” I say in a low, soothing tone. “May I ask if your use is by prescription?”
“Yes, I have terrible anxiety.” Her lips quirk up in a wry smile. “Pot helps.”
“Yeah, I know. Besides being an alcoholic, I’ve smoked a lot of dope too. And that was long before it was legal via prescription.” Her hands haven’t stopped moving, curling around each other in agitation. “Keep in mind that you haven’t broken the law. However, Isaac has and he needs to understand this from you. I’m working with him on coping mechanisms and the how and why he’s smoking but the hardcore parenting has to come from you.”
Her eyes harden, which surprises me. I thought I was giving her an out, a way to relieve her of guilt. How did this backfire?
“I give my son a lot of freedom. He’s not a child. He’s sixteen. I believe in learning by doing, not by telling him the obvious,” she huffs. “I trust my boy. He has a good head on his shoulders.”
“And considering the present situation, how do you think that’s worked for you?” My response is a knee-jerk reaction to her less than stellar parenting method, but I need to be tough with her now. She frowns, formulating her next polite attack, but I don’t give her the time. “Your son is going to have a criminal record by the time he’s eighteen if you, yes you, don’t do something about it. This is what I strongly recommend. Ground him for two weeks, including taking away his cell phone. He’s allowed to go to school, of course, but he’s got to come straight home. No hanging with his new bad-influence friends. And, he stays put on the weekends. Give him back his phone after one week though. Having that outlet will be a bit of torture for him to talk to his friends but not be able to see them. A reminder that he’ll get grounded again and again if his behavior doesn’t change for the better.”
A horrified expression flashes across her face but I raise a hand and press on.
“Further, you’re to stay on top of him. Know who he’s hanging out with. What his homework assignments are and if he’s doing them on time. Talk to his teachers, get to know them. They’re a valuable asset. Check his phone daily. Read his texts.”
“I’ll do no such thing.” Gemma sits up straighter in her chair, as if she might shoot to her feet. “This is not how I raise my son!”
This is escalating too quickly. I need to diffuse the situation before I lose any chance of Gemma seeing reason. Thankfully, Dee comes to my aid. My angel, my savior.
“Gemma, calm down. Everything Jayson is saying is to help Isaac. He’s speaking from experience and from having an advanced degree in addictions counseling.” She reaches out and pats Gemma’s arm. “I know this is difficult, but please give this a chance. For Isaac’s sake.”
Dee glances at me and I mouth a silent thank you to her. She nods with a sweet smile that melts my heart.
Gemma angrily swipes at a couple of tears that have escaped her eyes then takes hold of Dee’s hand. “Alright. I don’t like it but I’ll try.” She turns her attention back to me. “And, while I’m becoming the enemy in my son’s life, what exactly will you be doing?”
I don’t flinch. Maintaining my cool, I gently correct her. “You won’t be the enemy. You’ll be the parent that Isaac needs and wants. Sure, he’ll yell and complain, but every child needs and secretly craves boundaries. Giving him boundaries is an expression of love.”
I’m pleased that Gemma is engaged intently in the conversation. Whether or not I’m getting through is still a question but she doesn’t seem to be so angry anymore.
Wrinkling her nose like she’s tasted something bad, she shrugs. “And you’ll be doing…?”
I offer a friendly smile. “I’m his teacher, his confidant, his guide. I’ll be meeting with him twice a week until I think we can move it back to once a week. I have three months to make this work or to jail he goes. He’ll be booked and then we’ll lose him, maybe for good. I can’t do this alone. I need your help.”
I check my watch. Then glance from one woman to the other. “Dee and I should take off now so you can have the time to think all of this through before Isaac gets home. Then you’ll need to talk to him. I’ll meet with him after school tomorrow.”
Grudgingly, Gemma nods. “Alright.”
I stand and hold out my hand to her. For a moment it looks like she’ll refuse the gesture but then stands and shakes.
“It’ll be okay, Gemma. I promise.” With a nod to Dee, I walk her to the door and we depart. Gemma has some parenting to do and I have an opportunity to talk to Dee alone.
I’m going to take it.
9
December
As I walk to the door, I wonder who this man is beside me
and what he’s done with Jayson.
This beautiful, confident man who spoke to Gemma with such caring authority is not the Jayson I knew ten years ago. That Jayson was shy, weak, and afraid of the world. He drank to self-medicate, to erase—if just for a little while—his self-loathing.
This man beside me now, who reaches out to take my hand but then thinks better of it, is attractive on a level I never thought possible. This Jayson has come for me, and damned if I don’t want a taste of him. But, oh, I better behave. My heart can’t take the ache that comes with loving him.
We step outside, the mountains cast in a glorious midday sun despite the slight chill in the air. I focus on them lest I be caught in the depths of Jayson’s penetrating black eyes. I can’t let this happen. Yet, I can’t deny the palpable heat between us, and shiver with the memory of how he can make my body sing.
“Yeah, it takes a while for it to warm up in the mountains. Just like Canada.” He’s mistaken my shiver and thinks I’m cold. He adds a little self-conscious laugh and raises a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. “Let me walk you home?”
He’s framed this offer as a question but the confident tone makes me want to shiver again. It’s like he won’t take no for an answer. He’s in charge, taking the lead, being the man despite the way I’ve been treating him. It’s such a simple request but potentially loaded with innuendo. With fire. I shouldn’t…
“I live in the same building. My apartment is just around back,” I say as an easy way to decline, but he nods like I’ve agreed and turns down the path.
I pick up my pace to keep up with him. This is trouble.
“It’s a beautiful building,” he says as we turn the corner to where my apartment is.
“Yeah, I live in what was the church. My landlord told me the original owners added it back in the late eighteen hundreds. They were definitely into their churches back then.” I laugh a little, the same way Jayson did a moment ago, as I pull my house key out of my pocket. “Well, here we are.”
