by Rylee Swann
I nod, smiling at Sally’s down-home goodness. “I’m sure. I don’t drink…”
“Oh, a teetotaler. Well, good on ya! The good Lord approves.” With a smile and wave of her hand, she scurries back in the direction from which she came.
Settling back into the couch, I return my attention to Chris. “You didn’t strike me as the religious type. Sorry if I—”
“Church every Sunday or Sally’d skin me alive.” His eyes light up at every mention of her. “She’s the religious one but not to the point of making anyone uncomfortable.” He leans forward in his chair and lowers his voice. “And believe me, Dee isn’t the only one drinking wine in the kitchen.”
We both share a laugh at this and soon enough Sally is back with our drinks. A bottle of beer and a frosted mug for Chris, a can of Coke and a glass filled with ice for me. Dee joins us a few minutes later, a bright smile on her face and a full glass of white wine. Sitting beside me, she takes a sip and pats my leg.
“You have a lovely home, Chris. Sally gave me a quick tour in between fussing over the feast she’s preparing.”
“Thank you. It’s been in the family for years, on her side. We enjoy it very much here, ‘cept maybe for the winters.” He smiles and twists open his beer.
Dee glances at me and then to my glass. I know what she’s thinking, and I hope she’s pleased that she sees me with soda pop.
“I know what you mean,” she says. “The winters here can be brutal.”
I laugh at what I consider their foolishness about mild winters. “Oh, come on. You two are joking, right? More brutal than Northern Ontario?”
Dee chuckles through another sip of wine. It’ll be amusing if I have to pour her into the car when we leave. “More brutal as compared to Long Island.” She peers at me in consideration, her eyes gleaming. “Maybe comparable to your winters. Still nasty, either way.”
I need to fuck her. As soon as possible. She’s just so adorable, so loving, so… Stop it, Jayson, or your pants will get too tight again. Mentally shaking myself, I try to get a grip. “So, what’s this about a feast? I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.”
She wrinkles up her nose, and I want to fuck her again. This is going to be a difficult dinner to get through.
“I hate that expression,” Dee says. “It doesn’t make any sense. We don’t eat horses. Why isn’t the expression ‘so hungry you could eat a cow?’ I mean, we do eat cows.” She gets to laughing and I worry she won’t stop. The wine has definitely begun the trip to her head.
“About that feast?” I say to prompt her back on track.
“Roast chicken and potatoes, green beans, a gigantic salad, cornbread that I think Sally baked from scratch.” She pauses, her eyes going to the ceiling. “Oh yeah, and gravy. Lots of it! The Canadian in you will like that.”
A longing for poutine creeps maliciously into my brain. It’s a nasty mix of French fries, cheese curd, and gravy, and is delicious. The concoction originated in Quebec, but most if not all of Canada adopted it almost like a national food dish.
My stomach growls and we all laugh.
“Sally is a great cook,” Chris says. “You’re going to gain some weight tonight.”
The meal is, in fact, wonderful. We all eat like we haven’t seen food in weeks and my jeans become tight, this time for a more acceptable-in-the-presence-of-others reason. Everything about the evening is perfect—the food, the conversation, and the company. I watch Dee, sitting beside me at the dining room table, with what is no doubt a stupid grin on my face as she forces another bite of cobbler into her mouth. She licks her luscious lips, and despite my stuffed belly, my cock stirs.
“You outdid yourself tonight, sweetheart,” Chris says to Sally, who blushes.
“You all ate like pigs. I could have put any slop in front of you,” she says in a teasing tone, pleased with how well her dinner went over. “Let me just clear the table.”
She starts to get up but I stand. “Oh, no you don’t. You’ve done enough. Dee and I will bring the dishes into the kitchen.” I look down at Dee and she smiles warmly back at me, but there’s something else in her expression. Something I can’t quite put my finger on. At least she is smiling, and I count my blessings where I can get them.
“Yes, of course,” Dee says and jumps up. “We’ll take care of this.” She proceeds to pick up a few plates, balancing them precariously on her arms like a waitress in a greasy spoon.
“Well, if you insist.” Sally and Chris beam at us and, loaded down with the remains of a magnificent dinner, Dee and I hustle into the kitchen.
Once there, we scrape food into the garbage and set the dishes in the sink. As soon as our hands are free, I grab Dee. Spinning her around to face me, I gaze into her surprised eyes and smile. “I’ve been wanting to do this all night.”
Before she can speak, I cover her mouth with mine. She parts her lips and I slide my tongue in, pulsing it as I would my cock, which is already hardening in my pants. Dee wraps her arms around my waist, her hands twisting into my shirt. Her nipples, pebbled and firm, press into my chest. Damned if I don’t want to rip off her clothes and fill her with my cock right now. To hell with the consequences. Let our hosts watch if they catch us.
But I don’t. I’m still winning Dee’s trust, and that would set me back. Kink can come later.
Dee breaks the kiss, her eyes shining, face flushed. She licks her lips and I stifle a groan. She is so damned hot.
“You taste like peaches,” I say in a low growl. “I could eat you alive.” She laughs and I lower my hands to her ass and squeeze as I bring her closer to me. My length is pressed against her stomach now. I want her to know how easily she arouses me. “Just wait till I get you home.”
“We’re being rude to our hosts,” she says, a little too breathless. “Besides, we can’t go falling into bed at the end of every date.”
“Oh, no?”
“No,” she laughs. “I wouldn’t want you to start thinking I’m easy.”
She skitters away from me before I can ravish her mouth again.
We’ll see about that.
She prances back to the living room.
Adjusting my cock in my pants, I follow her sweet ass.
13
December
In my home office, I stare at a page on my laptop only half filled with text. It’s been a few hours and I haven’t come close to hitting my word count for the day. It being Sunday, I wonder why I’m even bothering to try. With a sigh, I go back to reading what I’ve already written of my latest romance book but I can’t concentrate.
I can’t stop thinking about last night.
About Jayson.
How he’s become my Prince Charming. I snort out a laugh and shake my head. Him? Prince Charming? Ridiculous. Or is it? Damn stupid doubts.
When he brought me home last night, we didn’t go inside. Instead, we kissed like teenagers coming home just in time for curfew. His hands trailed along my body while his tongue fucked my mouth. His fingers caressed my nipples as his other hand massaged my ass, pressing me against his impressive length.
I wanted him so bad, I ached. As I motioned for him to come inside, he stepped away from me. Brought his pointer finger to my chin and lifted it until I met his eyes. They sparkled—with lust or mischief, I wasn’t sure.
“Thank you for a lovely evening, December,” he murmured. “Sleep well. I’ll call you soon.”
My mouth agape, I stared after him as he went down the walkway. “Wait. You’re not coming in?”
He turned back to me, and this time the mischief was clear in his gaze. I knew what was coming and I wanted to kick my own ass. He’d lit a fire in me, and he wasn’t going to put it out.
“We can’t fall into bed every time we see each other, lover.” He raised his arm in a combination salute and wave, disappeared into his car, and was gone.
David Bowie blares to life as a call interrupts my reverie. If it’s Jayson, I’m not going to answer. Hearing his voice now would des
troy me for getting any more work done today. I glance at the display while wondering if I’ll hold true to my resolve, but the call is from Gemma. Grabbing up the phone, I swipe to answer.
Her frantic voice immediately blares through the speaker. “Oh, Dee. We had a fight last night. He blew up at me and never came home!”
“Isaac?” I have to pull the phone away from my head, she’s talking so loud.
“Yes. Oh god, I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing!”
“Okay, okay. Calm down. I’ll call Jayson. Don’t you worry. He’ll help. It’ll be alright.” I glance from the less than stellar amount of words on my computer screen to the window that overlooks the mountains. So much for work.
“Alright. Thank you,” she says in a much smaller voice, and I disconnect.
Without missing a beat, I press the speed dial number I assigned to Jayson. It rings twice and the voice answers that sends a thrill to my core.
“Jayson? I hope I’m not bothering you…”
“Of course not,” he says with a chuckle. “It’s good to hear your voice.”
Inwardly, I tell my clit to behave. This is not the time to drench my panties. “Look, Gemma just called. Isaac didn’t come home last night. She’s worried.”
“Did they fight? Did she have any idea where he might have gone?”
I’m impressed with his questions and professionalism. “Yes and no. She’s frantic.”
“Okay, I have an idea where he might be. I’ll go check it out. Thanks for calling.”
His voice is so masculine, so authoritative, I don’t want the moment to end. “I’ll go with you,” I say impulsively.
There’s a pause before he replies. “Are you sure you want to?”
My old fears and insecurities regarding Jayson rise to the surface. Why wouldn’t he want me to go? Doesn’t he want to see me? Did I say something wrong to push him away? “Umm, yeah.”
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s just that you’re not trained in this. He’s rebelling, acting out. Right now, he’s probably high.”
What he says makes sense but I dig my heels in anyway. Sometimes, I really don’t understand myself. “I’ll just be there for moral support. I won’t say anything. Just a friendly face. I’ve known him a lot longer than you have.”
There’s another pause while I tug imaginary knots out of my hair.
“Well…alright. I’ll pick you up in ten.”
He shows up right on time and I run out to meet him. Before he can get out of his car to open my door, I rush in so we don’t have to waste any additional time with his chivalry.
He glances at me as he throws the car into reverse and heads back down the drive. “You look great.” Pausing at the end of the driveway to watch for traffic, he leans over and sneaks a quick kiss.
“Do I?” I say in a teasing tone. “I’m surprised, with the sleepless night I had.”
He grins and sneaks another peek at me before turning onto the road. “That’s what happens when you play the good girl. As for me, I slept like a baby. After I yanked one out,” he adds.
“Ewww!” Laughing, I cover my ears. “I did not need to know that.”
“But I thought of you the entire time.”
“Stop it! You evil man.” I can’t help but continue laughing.
He says nothing more but he’s smiling. Studying his profile, I’m reminded again of what a handsome man he is. Roman nose, defined cheekbones. Tantalizing lips… My thoughts are going in a dangerous direction. Shifting in my seat, I turn to look out the windshield. I need a distraction from the heat that sizzles between us. We drive in companionable silence for a time, the gravity of the situation settling down on us.
“You know that pizza place all the kids go to? The one near the high school?” he says a little while later.
“Yes.” We live in a small town. It’s not hard to know every business in it.
He nods, keeping his eyes on the road. “That’s where we’re going. I learned there’s an alleyway behind it where the stoners hang out. I think we’ll find Isaac there.”
When we arrive, Jayson parks out front. We get out and he pulls me to a stop on the sidewalk.
“What?” I frown, thinking he might stop me from going after all.
“Just here for moral support. A friendly face. Right?” he asks, to remind me of my earlier promise. I nod. “Good.” Inclining his head, he kisses me.
When he breaks away, I stare up at him in surprise. He just kissed me on the sidewalk in the middle of town. Out in the open. Where people can see us. Something clicks—public displays of affection were gestures he could never do back when we first knew each other. “You don’t hate yourself anymore, do you?”
A slow smile spreads across his face, like he’s just now realizing what I’ve asked is true. “No, I don’t. I guess being clean and sober and a productive member of society will do that to a guy. Come on. Let’s go save the day.” He takes my hand and together we walk around to the back of the restaurant.
I thought our excursion would end at the alley behind the pizza parlor. Instead, Jayson takes me through a broken gap in the chain-link fence, to an old abandoned house. The lawn is overgrown and the paint is mostly peeled off the wood boards of the three story home that might have once been majestic. Another old Victorian with the ghostly stories of families past locked within its walls.
As we continue on a path worn in the grass, I’m reminded that many parts of the Catskills are depressed with families struggling to make ends meet. Sadly, there are many such empty homes like this.
On the dilapidated wraparound porch, a group of eight to ten boys are loitering. I can’t tell from this distance if one of them is Isaac, but the odds are good. They’re being loud, raucous, but they settle down and grow quiet as we approach. Several of the boys appear older than Isaac, either already graduated or dropped out of high school. Yet, there’s something about them that doesn’t shout bad-boy tough. In fact, most of them remind me of Isaac. Awkward, at various stages of overweight—nerdy. These are the misfits, not the hoodlums.
And not at all what I expected.
I’m sure Jayson must realize this too but he still steps in front of me as one of the older boys approaches us.
“Can we help you?” The teen puffs out his chest, though he doesn’t appear at all threatening.
“Hey, brother,” Jayson says in a calm tone. “We’re just looking for a family friend.”
“Yeah, well. He ain’t here.” He’s trying to sound tough but, heaven help him, it comes off more comical than anything else.
I want to speak up, to at least step out of Jayson’s shadow. Damn my promise to him. Then the sickly sweet smell hits me. That disgusting, stomach-turning aroma of marijuana. I’m not a fan, having inhaled the scent of it all too often back in the day when Jayson would light up. To be honest, I hate the shit. In my experience, it does nothing but destroy lives. It’s an unpopular opinion these days, I know, but I can’t help it.
“Well, now, I didn’t even say who we’re looking for.” I know Jayson well enough that I can sense when he tenses. Yet, he remains outwardly calm.
“It don’t matter. He ain’t—”
“It’s okay, Arnie.” Isaac steps out from behind a couple of the other boys. “They’re cool.”
“No, they ain’t,” Arnie says. “They ain’t got no business back here, man.”
“Hello, Isaac,” Jayson says before returning his attention to Arnie. “We’re not here to cause trouble, brother. We just want to talk to him for a minute.”
A couple of the other bigger boys step into place around Arnie. It’s like we suddenly entered into a gang war movie. But this isn’t a gang, I remind myself. They’re just a bunch of kids who like to get high.
“Fuck it,” Arnie says. “He’s right here, so talk.”
Jayson nods slowly, holding his hands out in a placating gesture. “Isaac, your mom’s worried about you. She—”
“She doesn’t understand shit!�
�� Two red pinpricks light up Isaac’s cheeks.
“Can you explain it to us then? You being here doesn’t look good, you know.”
“Yeah, so, I lit up with my buddies.” He moves closer to us, his movements erratic, his words punctuated with a flurry of jerky hand motions. “I’m stoned. Fuck, it’s the only way to cope.”
“To cope with what?” Jayson asks. I’m getting concerned as the boys rally around Isaac and Arnie. But Jayson is keeping his cool, remaining unthreatening.
Isaac glances from Jayson to his friends. It’s clear he’s wrestling with whatever information he’s withholding. I hope Jayson has already established enough trust for Isaac to tell us what the real problem is.
“Who the fuck is this guy?” one of the boys standing next to Isaac asks.
“I said, he’s cool,” Isaac says with surprising force. “You wanna know what I’m coping with? What we’re all coping with?” he says to Jayson. “Being fucking bullied! It doesn’t let up. It never stops. So we smoke dope and being high makes it easier for a while. Okay?”
“No, it’s not okay, Isaac.” Jayson sighs and takes a step closer to him. “None of it is. I’m sorry you’re being bullied and thank you for telling me. I can help. I mean, I can’t promise the bullying will stop but I do have some ideas. Some things we can work on together to try and make it better.”
As Jayson draws closer, the boys tighten their ranks. There’s still a great deal of hostility in the air. I want to warn Jayson but I’ve promised to only be a friendly face.
Hope alights in Isaac’s bloodshot eyes but dims again almost immediately. “Bullshit. There’s nothing you can do.”
“There is, but I’m not going to discuss it here.” Jayson’s firm voice puts the boys off, including Isaac. “Let me take you home, get you sober, and we’ll talk.” He reaches out to take Isaac by the arm.
One of the bigger boys steps forward and shoves Jayson. “Fuck off, man. He don’t wanna go!”
Then a lot of shoving starts. Like a pack of wolves, the boys surge forward, some pulling at Isaac while others push hard at Jayson. I can barely follow all that’s happening. These boys are not in the best shape and they’re stoned. But they are pissed off—angry at the world for all the torment they’ve had to endure, and Jayson has become the focus.
