by Tara Sivec
She deserves the romance and the specialness of it all, and I need to step up my game. I would never tell her in a million years that I really do feel bad she has to live with her parents while she figures things out, but more than that, I just want her to be with me. Now that I’ve found her, it kills me to not have her with me every second of the day.
“Holy shit, is that what I think it is?” Alex whispers when I hold the small, black leather box out between us.
Slowly opening the lid, I smile down at the object nestled inside.
“Oh my God. You’re a dipshit,” Alex mutters. “You put a key in a ring box? She’s going to gut you like a fish if you give that to her. I’m not in love with you, and even I kind of want to punch you in the face right now.”
I glare at him and huff out an angry breath. “Fuck off. It’s romantic. I’m giving her the key to my heart. And my house.”
“No, what you’re giving her is a plausible reason to commit homicide,” he retorts.
“You’re not getting the full effect,” I argue. “I’m going to cook her dinner, light some candles, play some soft music, and tell her how much I want to wake up to her every morning when I give this to her. It’s symbolic.”
“It’s idiotic.”
I growl, holding the box up higher between us. “This is a big step, and she’s going to love it.”
Alex shakes his head at me. “Prove it. Practice exactly what you’re going to do when you give that thing to her and let me be the judge of that.”
We stand on the front porch in silence for a few seconds while I contemplate whether or not this is a good idea or just another way for Alex to bust my balls.
“Come on, you big pussy. Imagine I’m Noel.”
He puts a hand on one hip and pretends to flip his hair back over his should before batting his eyelashes at me.
“Oh, Samuel, I love you so much, even if you have a tiny dick,” he says in a high-pitch, breathy voice.
“You’re an asshole,” I mumble.
“Stay in character, dick-nose,” he replies in the same falsetto voice.
With a deep breath, I pretend it really is Noel standing in front of me, with her gorgeous, long red hair, striking green eyes, and the hottest body I’ve ever seen. I picture the freckles on her nose and the dimple in her cheek when she laughs at something I’ve said or done. I smell the cinnamon apple scent of her skin and feel the warmth of her hands on me.
Realizing my dick is starting to get hard by just imagining her here in front of me, I quickly spit out what I planned to say to her before Alex notices the tent in my pants and this situation becomes even more awkward than it already is.
“I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I can’t imagine spending one more night without you in my arms. I want to be able to kiss you every night before bed and tell you I love you every morning when we wake up. It doesn’t matter if we’ve known each other for a month or a thousand months. I love you. I need you. And I can’t live in that house without you anymore. Move in with me. My house isn’t a home if you’re not there to share it with me.”
“Jesus Christ, I knew you were a gay.”
I jump and let out the most unmanly squeal when I hear Reggie, Noel’s father, speak from the door to the house that I didn’t even notice him open. Quickly snapping the lid to the box closed, I shove it back into my bag with fumbling fingers while her father crosses his arms over his chest and looks back and forth between me and Alex.
“It’s not what it looks like, sir. I was just-”
Reggie holds one hand up in the air and cuts me off. “Does this face look like one that gives a rat’s ass? Quit making out with your girlfriend on my front porch and get inside before all the heat gets out.”
With that, he turns and walks inside the house, yelling for Noel’s mother as he goes.
“BEVERLY! NOEL’S GAY BOYFRIEND IS HOME!”
Alex laughs, patting me on the back as I follow behind Reggie, trying once again to explain to him what was happening out on the front porch.
“Sir, really, it’s not what it looked like. I was just practicing-”
“YAY, Sam’s home! And he brought fresh man-meat!” Noel’s Aunt Bobbie interrupts, rushing into the hallway from the living room and making a beeline right for Alex.
Before I can warn him, her hand flies right to the crotch of his pants and gives it a squeeze.
“I’m Aunt Bobbie, and you are?” she purrs, her face only a few inches from Alex’s.
“Nice to meet you too, pretty lady. The name’s Alex Rose,” he tells her with a charming smile.
I snort under my breath when I hear him use his flirting voice and feel less annoyed about what he made me do out on the porch and having Noel’s dad catch the tail end of it.
“Bobbie, that is not the man’s hand. Drop his penis and go get a martini,” Noel’s mother complains as she joins us in the entryway.
Aunt Bobbie does as she’s told, giving Alex a wink and me a kiss on the cheek before sauntering back into the living room, adding an extra sway to her hips as she goes.
“She’s kind of hot for an older chick, but someone should tell her she’s got man hands,” Alex whispers in my ear.
“Well, she’s a man, soooooo…” I trail off, the shocked expression on his face making me forget all about the front porch incident altogether.
“Sam! We didn’t expect you back for a few more days,” Bev exclaims, pulling me in for a quick hug and immediately removing my backpack from my shoulder. “Noel’s not home right now, but she should be back any minute. She had a job interview, and then I told her stay away for a few hours when she was finished so Reggie and I could have some alone time, if you know what I mean.”
She bumps her elbow against my arm and winks at me. I’m so busy being excited that Noel finally got an interview that Bev takes my silence as confusion.
“You know, alone time. Bumping uglies, I think is what the kids are calling it these days,” she explains. “Although I take offense to that term since my vagina is very far from ugly, I’ll have you know.”
Oh, sweet lord.
“Bev, this is my friend, Alex Rose. Alex, this is Noel’s mother, Bev,” I quickly introduce them before the woman goes into a lengthier discussion about her down-under.
“I…I just…I don’t…man hands,” Alex mutters, ignoring Bev’s outstretched hand.
I quickly punch Alex in the arm to get him to snap out of it and laugh uncomfortably in Bev’s direction. “You’ll have to excuse him. Jet lag makes him a little weird. He’ll be fine after he eats something.”
Bev immediately claps her hands together in excitement and then grabs Alex’s arm and starts dragging him toward the kitchen. “Perfect! I made pot roast in the crock pot all day and I have plenty of leftovers.”
At the mention of food, Alex snaps out of his daze after finding out he just flirted with a man, dressed as a woman, who had her hand on his dick. He wraps one arm around Bev and they start chatting easily on the way to the kitchen.
My smile dies a quick, painful death when Reggie suddenly steps in front of me and blocks my view of Alex and Bev disappearing into the kitchen.
“Sir, I just want-”
My attempt to once again try to explain the situation with Alex on the front porch is thwarted when Reggie brings his hand up, and with fingers spread, presses the entire thing against my face mid-sentence.
“Stop talking,” he scolds. “I like you, Sam. As much as any man can like a guy who’s dipping a spoon in to his daughter’s yogurt before marriage. I just spent the last three hours having my wife do things to me that are illegal in ten states and will give me nightmares for the rest of my life. I don’t have time for your bullshit when I’ve got my own bullshit to deal with. If your bullshit happens to be that you play for the same team as Aunt Bobbie, you better nip it in the bud and tell Noel right quick, or I’ll take that spoon of yours, bend it in half, and shove it down your throat. Are we clear?”
I keep my
mouth shut and nod behind his hand, still smushed against my face.
“Glad we’re in agreement. Now, get in the kitchen and let Bev feed you. I need a distraction so I can chisel the dried wax off my balls before she gets any funny ideas about having a round two,” he sighs, finally dropping his hand.
Crouching low and walking carefully on his toes to avoid any creaks in the hardwood floor, he moves to the stairs leading up to the bathrooms, stopping and shooting a panicked look toward the kitchen each times the voices of Bev and Alex pause in their conversation. He finally manages to make it up the stairs and out of sight while I stand by the front door shaking my head at what a pussy I am. I can go off to fight a war in another country, yet I can’t manage five minutes alone with Noel’s father without wanting to piss myself.
At this point, I think I’d rather have Reggie think I’m gay than have him know I want Noel to live with me. I’d like my spoon to stay unbent, thank you very much.
Chapter 3
It’s Hard Out There for a Pimp
Noel
“MOTHER!”
My shout echoes through the entryway of the house as I slam the door closed behind me, loud enough to rattle the windows. I curse under my breath and stomp my foot in frustration when my arms get stuck in the sleeves of my coat. When I finally manage to untangle myself, I’m hot, sweaty, and so pissed off that I start whipping my coat against the wall over and over.
“I’m pretty sure the coat is dead, sweetheart.”
The deep voice sends tingles up my spine, and I immediately drop the offending coat and whirl around in surprise. As soon as I see Sam standing there, his long, muscular legs encased in a pair of faded jeans and his well-defined upper body showcased in a tight, grey long-sleeve he has pushed up to the elbows, my eyes fill with tears and I quickly close the distance between us.
Sam removes his hands from his pockets right before my body collides with his, wrapping his arms around me tightly and lifting me off my feet.
“Jesus, I missed you,” he whispers, pressing his face into my tangle of hair and inhaling deeply. “Four days away and I almost lost my mind.”
I squeeze my eyes closed to keep the tears from falling, my arms around his neck pulling him closer.
“Are you smelling my hair?” I ask with a smile, my lips grazing the side of his neck.
He sets me back down on my feet and moves us apart just enough to look down at my face.
“I always smell your hair. It’s not creepy if you’re awake and you know I’m doing it,” he teases with a roguish smirk. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
He brings his hand up between us and presses it against my cheek, using his thumb to swipe away the wet trail.
“I’m not crying,” I sniffle. “My eyes are leaking fluid of frustration. There’s a difference.”
He chuckles softly and I smile up at him, even though I’m still pissed and irritated. Having him back home makes me feel much better than I did a few minutes ago.
“What are you doing home? I thought you weren’t going to be back until Sunday night?”
His hand moves from my cheek and his fingers slide through my long bangs to move them away from my face. I try not to purr like a cat when he repeats the movement a few more times while he speaks.
“We got done early and I paid the cabbie double to get me to the airport in half the time so I could make the last flight back to Ohio tonight,” he explains with a smile, moving his head down until his lips are right next to my ear. “I couldn’t handle spending one more night without being inside you.”
His warm breath floats over my ear and goose bumps pebble my skin at his words.
“Noel, you’re home! Margie called and said you left the interview early. What happened? Did you screw it up?”
And just like that, the sound of my mother’s voice kills the imagery of Sam and I naked in bed and tangled together. Pulling out of his arms, I give him a reassuring smile and a pat to his chest.
“I’m sorry for what you are about to hear,” I tell him before turning around to face my mother.
“Oh, you mean the interview I had at a BROTHEL? Yes, I believe I did leave early,” I inform her with an irritated scowl.
“Uh, did you say brothel?” Sam asks from behind me.
“You had an interview with her brother?” my mother replies in confusion. “I didn’t know Margie had a brother.”
“A BROTHEL! Brrrrooooooothel!” I yell, stretching out the word. “Otherwise known as, a fucking whore house!”
My mother tsks and shakes her head. “You must have been mistaken. Margie won’t even watch television after 7pm ever since she saw a naked tush on Grey’s Anatomy.”
My father, Aunt Bobbie, and a stranger who looks like he could be a cover model for GQ, walk out from the kitchen when they hear the commotion.
“Well, maybe Margie doesn’t partake in the activities that go on in her home, but the hookers she employs certainly do,” I deadpan. “I can’t believe you actually sent me on an interview to manage hookers!”
Sam rests his hands on my shoulders and massages them gently to ease some of my tension. If we were alone right now, I would shove him into the nearest empty room and let him ease my stress in a much more naked and satisfying way. Sadly, we aren’t alone.
“It pays well and you get medical benefits. I don’t see what the big deal is,” my mother says with a shrug.
“Oh, I don’t know. The big deal is probably that it’s ILLEGAL, and my dream job really isn’t managing hookers by scheduling their STD testing, making sure there’s a bulk supply of condoms and lube in the kitchen cabinet under the sink, and checking all the vibrators for dead batteries,” I explain in annoyance.
“Did you by any chance snag a few of those vibrators for us before you left?” Sam whispers.
I can hear the smile in his voice and I assume he’s joking, which is the only reason I don’t reach back and punch him in the stomach. On second thought, the idea of Sam using a vibrator on me isn’t too shabby of an idea…
“Is there a lengthy application process for customers? I’m asking for a friend,” strange GQ model asks, stepping out from behind my mother with a mischievous grin on his face. He’s about the same height as Sam’s six feet and has the same lean muscular build. Really, the only difference in the two men is at the top of their heads, Sam having short dark hair and this guy with short blonde hair. They’re like the ying and yang of hot guys.
“Ignore everything that comes out of his mouth,” Sam informs me. “Noel, this is Alex, the guy you spoke to on the phone the other day.”
Ahhhhh, yes. The guy who snatched the phone out of Sam’s hand when we were in the middle of an epic phone sex session and asked if we could conference him in on our call because he was feeling lonely. After Sam kicked his ass and took the phone back, the mood was long gone and Sam told me that he met Alex when he first joined the Marines and explained that even if he’s a perverted pig most of the time, he was a good guy and like a brother to him.
Sam’s parents were killed when he was a baby, and he spent the rest of his childhood bouncing around foster homes until he turned eighteen and joined the Marines. It broke my heart when he first told me the story, making me hate my behavior toward my own family at that time even more because Sam had no one. When he mentioned he might be bringing Alex home with him to meet me, I was ecstatic. It made me happy to know Sam has someone out there in the world he can count on, aside from me and my insane family.
“It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Noel,” Alex greets me with a smile as he steps in front of me. “Now, about those hookers…”
Sam leans around me and punches Alex in the side of the arm. “He’s kidding.”
“Speak for yourself, shit-stick. I haven’t had the pleasure of getting laid on the regular like you. If Noel has an in with some professionals, I’m taking advantage of it,” he winks in my direction.
My father immediately reaches up and smacks Alex o
n the back of the head.
“I’m a professional!” Aunt Bobbie interrupts, raising her hand in the air while she looks Alex up and down.
Alex mouth drops open and his eyes widen when she takes a step toward him. I have no idea what she did to him before I got here, but I can only assume it had something to do with grabbing his junk going by the look of panic on his face. Like a toddler running from a scary clown, Alex quickly moves behind my dad, holding onto the sides of his arms and using him as a shield to protect his man-parts from Aunt Bobbie’s wandering hands and eyes.
“You’re a professional bullshitter. Put your hand down before you give the poor boy a heart attack,” my mother reprimands Aunt Bobbie with a roll of her eyes. “Now, back to this job opportunity you screwed up…”
“I didn’t screw it up. I was very polite and didn’t scream at all when Margie paraded all her hookers into the living room and told me part of my interview would include choosing the right combination of lingerie for each of her girls,” I inform her through clenched teeth.
“Sorry, could you repeat that? I’m going to need a little more detail to create a visual. Cup size, hair color and length, and did the carpets match the drapes?” Alex asks, peeking his head out from behind my father, who promptly brings his elbow back into Alex’s gut.
It’s nice to see how well Alex fits in with our family after only a few minutes.
“Of course Margie’s carpet matches her drapes,” my mother scoffs. “What do you think she is, an animal? I’m not saying I agree with her color pallet of beige carpet and rose-colored drapes, but honestly, do people really mismatch something like this?”
“Some people don’t even have carpet, my dear,” Aunt Bobbie tells her with a laugh.
“Well, that’s understandable. Bare floors go with everything.” My mother nods.
“Like my mouth,” Alex adds with a grin.
My father puts his hands on his hips and turns his head to face Alex. “Do you WANT me to take you out back and shoot you?”
“ENOUGH!” I shout, holding both my hands up in the air. “We’re done talking about this.”
