Enjoy Your Stay

by Carmen Jenner

  Just as the movie starts and Orlando Bloom’s scrumptious face comes on the screen, I hear Jack’s keys in the door, and my heart gives a tight squeeze. He strolls into the lounge room, takes one look at Coop and I on the couch, and sits himself down beside me, shoving his meaty fist into the popcorn and spilling it over my lap.

  I spend the next twenty minutes pretending this isn’t awkward as hell, but the two aren’t at each other’s throats so maybe we’re okay for the time being. I finish the rest of my chocolate milk and set the glass back on the table. Coop eases his shoulder out from mine, and picks up the glass as he stands up. “You want anything else, baby?”

  “Yeah, can you get me a beer?” Jack smirks. “Thanks.”

  I glare at him and he shrugs. Coop wanders off to the kitchen, Ana lets out a little laugh, and Jack throws a handful of popcorn at them. “Hey Cade, keep your fingers to yourself this time, yeah mate? I’m not taking Coop out for ice cream so he can blow me.”

  I shoot daggers in his direction. “Would you shut up, please?”

  “Oh, rock star doesn’t know what happened between us after the Fingergate incident, huh?”

  “You guys named it Fingergate?” Ana asks, mortified.

  “Well maybe we should talk to Rock Star about this?” Jackson ignores his cousin completely and leans back against the arm of the couch. He is far too excited. “I mean, the dude has a right to know what happens when he takes you out for ice cream. It’s only—”

  The baby takes that moment to kick my guts in, and I grunt, and then act on instinct as I yank Jack’s hand over and onto my belly. “Ow, what are you—”

  “You feel that?”

  “Holy shit! The little dude’s gonna kick off for the Balmain Tigers. That’s fucking incredible,” he says as he spreads his big palm out over my belly, and then he surprises me by putting his head down to my abdomen and talking to the baby. I don’t even really know what the hell he just said, something about becoming a star footy player so he can get Uncle Jack into strip clubs? This is the first time anyone but a sonographer, or my doctor have felt the baby kick. Tears spring into my eyes as I stare down at Jack, who in turn is looking up at me in awe.

  “Holy shit, Hols, there’s a life inside you.”

  “Yeah, kinda noticed that already.”

  His eyes are wide and slightly misted over, and I don’t want to tear my gaze away, but when I finally do, Coop is glaring at the two of us. Jack follows my line of sight and then shifts away from me, leaning his body into the armrest, his face completely unreadable. Coop’s, on the other hand, is not. He’s livid. He steps forward and hands Jack a beer, though his expression tells me what he really wants to do is club him over the head with it.

  “What did I miss?”

  I lick my lips, suddenly horrified that he wasn’t the one to feel it. I should have called out to him. I should have done something other than sit there and stare at Jack. “The baby kicked.”

  “He did?” he asks. His whole face twists with disappointment. “Is he still?”

  “No, he stopped. Maybe he got stage fright?” I supply unhelpfully.

  “I’m sure he’ll start up again once we’re quiet,” Ana adds with a placating smile. God, she’s so much better at that than I am.

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” Coop says, and flops down beside me. I take his hand in mine, and press it against my lower abdomen. “Maybe later you should try singing to him?”

  Jackson gasps and chokes on his beer, and then coughs, “Pussy.”

  “Shut up, Jack,” I say.

  “What? I’m just coughing.”

  “You really think he’d like that?” Coop asks, ignoring Jack.

  “Coop, have you ever met a person who doesn’t like hearing you sing?”

  “Wanker.” Jackson coughs again.

  “Have you ever met anyone besides Jack who doesn’t like hearing you sing?” I say sarcastically, and Coop smiles at me.

  “How ’bout later I make you sing for me?” he says and his blue-grey eyes are blazing with self-satisfaction. I nearly choke on my chocolate milk. I can practically feel the anger rolling off of Jack. I hate shoving Coop in his face like this, especially after him finally coming clean about his feelings. It just seems like no matter what I do here, someone gets hurt.

  “Okay, if you two are gonna chit-chat all night can you go get a fucking room? Some of us are trying to watch … What the fuck are we watching?”

  “Pirates of the Caribbean,” Elijah says.

  “The porn version or the original?”

  “Original.”

  “I’m out. If anyone needs me I’ll be in my room, bludgeoning the beefsteak.”

  “Good luck with that,” Coop says, and draws me further into his arms. I glance at Jack, and then frown when I see the daggers he’s throwing at Coop’s arm on my shoulder. Coop exacerbates things by lightly trailing his finger up my side, and making me squirm.

  “Cut it out,” I say and pull away. “You know I hate being tickled.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since always.”

  “You never said you hated it before. What about that night in the park, where I—”

  “Night,” Jack hollers, and storms off towards his room. He slams the door just a little too loudly to believe that he’s not being eaten alive by jealousy right now.

  I’m suddenly feeling too tired for Orlando Bloom, and even the thought of Johnny Depp wearing eyeliner and saying ‘Are we savvy?’ isn’t working for me tonight. “I think I’m going to go to bed, too.”

  “Seriously? The movie just started?”

  “Yes, but I’ve had a life sucking the marrow from my bones all day, so I’m kinda tired.”

  “I’ll come with you, then.”

  “You don’t have to. I’m just gonna be snoring my fat head into the pillow.”

  He gives me an odd little look, like he’s pissy I’m turning him down. I mean sheesh, yes the hormones may have increased an already overwrought sex drive, but even Holly Harris has to take some time out for sleep. “You sure?”

  “Yes, Coop. Stay and watch the movie. Besides, someone has to keep an eye on those two,” I say, and incline my head toward Ana and Elijah.

  Cade wags his eyebrows up and down, and wiggles his middle and index fingers at me.

  “Funny, Cade.” I say, and shake my head as I haul my pregnant arse up and waddle down the hall.

  I stare across the room at Jack. He’s sitting at the table, blowing on his coffee, and staring at me with smouldering blue eyes. There’s so much heat in that one glance that I feel my entire body catch fire from my head down to my toes. I glance down at my flat stomach. For a second I’m surprised there’s not a bump in the way, blocking my feet from sight, but then I remember why. Because I’m sixteen, and at my parents’ house. Jack is only in town for a few days, and Ana asked me to keep him entertained while she worked, so he wasn’t out whoring his twenty-two-year-old self around Sugartown.

  “You want milk in your coffee?” I ask, uncertain. I hate the stuff. I tried it once and nearly gagged, like the time I gave Sean McCauley head behind the water tank at a party. Since then, semen has always made me gag. Evidently, so does coffee.

  “Yeah, milk would be great. Thanks.”

  “Okay,” I squeak. I don’t know why Ana thought this was a good idea; I mean, has she seen her cousin? Holy cheese on a cracker, is he hot. Like, sell-your-soul-just-for-one-taste hot.

  “So, where are your parents, Hols?”

  “Out. Mum has this sewing luncheon thing she goes to every Thursday, and Dad has work all day. They won’t be back until late.”

  “Really?” He tilts his head to the side and sort of gives me this predatory smile that makes my insides feel squishy. I turn away so I don’t make a complete idiot out of myself with the way I’m gawking. Jack comes up behind me, places his arms on the bench, either side of my hips, and I’m so startled that I drop the carton of milk. It hits the counter and then bounces off o
nto the floor at my feet, splashing all over the front of my denim skirt and singlet top, and down my legs. The remainder of the milk chugs out over my feet.

  “Shit,” I say, and bend down to retrieve it. Only, I forget that Jack’s standing right behind me, and my arse meets the very firm, very warm front of his jeans. Holy shit. Is he hard? I freeze like that, bent over in front of him. I’m covered in cold milk. It’s seeping through my skirt, onto the front of my thighs, and through my underwear. Jack’s hands come around my hips and he tugs me against him, digging his fingers in and grinding his erection against my arse.

  “I …” I mutter, and then gasp as he slides one hand around the front beneath my skirt. His touch is so certain, precise. Completely unlike any other experience I’ve had with guys getting their meaty paws between my legs. He gently traces them up my thigh until he meets my pussy, and then he circles them over my cotton knickers. My breath leaves me in a rush, and I struggle for something to say so he won’t realise how shit-scared I am.

  “I’m disgusting.”

  Good one, Holly. Awesome. Nothing like telling the hottest guy you’ve ever met that he shouldn’t touch you.

  “Because of the milk! I don’t mean I’m disgusting disgusting. ‘Cause I’m kinda hot, actually.”

  He chuckles as he peppers my shoulder with kisses. “Fucking hot, actually.”

  “Well, I didn’t wanna toot my own horn or anything.” I joke. “I should really go and have a shower.”

  He removes his hand from beneath my skirt, and then he spins me around to face him.

  “Are you a virgin, Holly?”

  “No?” I squeak. Fuck. You idiot. You’re not supposed to make it sound like a question.

  “No?” He smirks.

  “No. I’ve totally had sex before. Lots of sex. Mountains of sex, with heaps of hot guys.”

  “Mountains.” He raises his brows. “Really?”

  I cringe. “Kinda gave it away there, huh?”

  “How many?”

  “One. It was terrible.” He smiles so wide I think his face might crack. “That’s funny, is it?”

  “Nah, I’m not laughing at the stupid fuck who couldn’t figure out how to screw you properly. I’m laughing because I can’t believe my luck.”

  “Ooookay.” He lifts me by the waist, and sets me down on the bench. “I’m really kinda covered in milk, and it’s sticky and gross.”

  “Hols, shut up,” he says, and leans in to kiss me. Only, he pauses, with our mouths just inches from one another. “Today is your lucky day, sweetheart.”

  “Really? That’s kinda presumptuous of you, isn’t it? I mean, you could be just as terrible as Chris, and if that’s the case then it could put me off sex forever. As it is, I’m only half sold—” he cuts off my words by darting his tongue out and lashing it quickly against my bottom lip. The breath hitches in my throat and then he crushes his mouth to mine and kisses as hard as the devil sins. He runs his hands down over my shoulders and then he’s completely copping a feel and pinching my nipples through my flimsy top and holy fuck, is that what those things are for?

  My breath quickens, and I let out a little moan that’s so damn embarrassing it should be illegal. Jackson Rowe should be illegal. This should be illegal; oh, wait, I think it is. Oh well, some things are worth going to jail for.

  Jack pushes my skirt up my thighs. The drying milk makes it stick to me, stick to him, it creates friction between our bodies. He steps back a little and lifts my leg, and then he shocks the hell out of me by licking his way up my smooth calf. He travels back down again, all the way to my feet, and runs his tongue along my big toe. Then he sucks it into his mouth, and I feel a bolt of white-hot desire shoot right to my girl parts. Holy shit, who knew toe sucking could cause my vagina to melt?

  “Jack?” I ask. He runs his hand up my leg and pushes himself between my thighs. I can feel him rock-hard, and straining against his jeans. He grips my hips and slides my arse closer to the edge of the bench, then he grinds himself against me and I start panting, hard and fast. He kisses me again, continuing his assault on both my pussy and my mouth, and I rock my hips into him and practically ride his clothed cock until I’m panting hard, and about to come. He breaks away from me, trails kisses down my neck, and pulls back a little. Just out of reach, far enough that I can’t grind up against him anymore. I let out a whine, and pout.

  “Not yet, sweetheart.” He slides his finger over my bottom lip and then traces it down my body, between my breasts, down my stomach, and thumbs my clit beneath my knickers. “So wet. So fucking innocent.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that. I mean, have you met me? I’m not exactly Ana.”

  “Thank Christ for that,” he says, and then works on my zip. I lift my arse a little off the bench so he can wiggle my skirt and underwear down, and then he strips my singlet top off and I’m completely naked on my mother’s kitchen bench. Jack’s shirt hits the floor, but this time I start to work on the buttons of his fly. I run my hand along the hard length of him, teasing as I slowly unveil his cock.

  Holy shit, he is hung. As in: like a horse. As in: that thing is going to tear me apart. He smiles like he knows what I’m thinking, and says, “Relax, it’ll fit. Trust me.”

  “I hope so, because I do not want to have to explain that your giant cock is the reason I need corrective surgery on my vagina. You’re really big … like, I knew they came big, but that’s … that should be its own continent. It should at the very least be on a map.”

  “Piece of advice: don’t refer to a man’s cock as a thing. You can call it almost anything you want, but never a thing, and never, ever call it small.”

  “I don’t think you have any concerns there, Jack.”

  “Holly? Stop fucking talking, you’re distracting me, and I’m about to fuck you. Trust me, you don’t want me distracted right now.”

  “Sorry,” I mutter, but he crashes his lips down on mine, and I moan as he pushes his tongue deeper into my mouth. I hear the sound of a wrapper tearing, and I reach out and help him slide the condom in place. He strokes me with his cock, runs the tip through my wetness and pushes it just at my entrance.

  “Been thinking about this a long time, Hols,” he says as he pushes into me in one hard thrust.

  “Oh, Jesus,” I mutter.

  “Jackson, actually, but don’t worry, sweetheart, you won’t have to wait too long for a second coming,” he says and then snags my earlobe with his teeth as he drives in faster. “Touch yourself.”

  I pull back and stare at him, confused. “Why?”

  “Show me how you get yourself off.”

  My brows furrow. “You don’t think that’s weird?”

  “Hols, it’s sexy as fuck,” he says, and pulls back until just the head of his cock is inside me. He takes my hand, and guides it to my clit, and grins. “Show me.”

  I lightly circle my clit, almost robotically, and Jack tilts his head and frowns. “I can’t do this with you watching. It feels too private.”

  “My cock is buried inside you, and you have an issue showing me how you get yourself off?”

  “I don’t really ever get myself off.”

  Jack pulls away and just looks at me. “Never?”

  I shake my head, embarrassed to admit that. Afraid he’ll call it quits right now, before we’ve had a chance to really do this thing.

  “Then let’s find out what makes you scream, darlin’,” he says, and covers my hand with his own.

  I wake to complete darkness, and Coop’s head buried between my legs. I can hear the TV playing in the background and light filters in from beneath the door, so I’m assuming I can’t have been out long. His tongue gently laves at my clit, and I moan and fist my hands in his hair when his soft stubble scratches me. Then it dawns on me that Coop doesn’t have stubble; his face is always clean-shaven.

  I snatch my hands from his hair, and lean up on my elbows. “What the hell are you doing?” I whisper-yell, afraid that at any second Coop’s
going to walk in and find us.

  “Proving that I can have you any time I want.” I can’t see his face in the darkness, but there’s not a hint of jest or teasing in his voice. He really is that fucking delusional.

  “Get out.” I try locking my legs to push him out from the space between my thighs, but Jack’s not having a bar of it, and he knows just what to do to make me stop. He lowers his head to my clit and sucks it into his mouth, and slams two fingers inside me, causing me to pant and my muscles to tighten involuntarily.

  I should stop this. It doesn’t matter that I love Jack, that he’s here playing some sick twisted game and tearing me apart at the same time as making me whole again after weeks of walking around with my chest gaping open. It doesn’t matter that every time Coop takes me in his arms, I wish it were Jack, and it doesn’t matter that my heart is full to bursting because he’s touching me. It doesn’t matter, because Coop would be heartbroken if he could see me right now, and Jack knows it.

  “Stop,” I plead, and shove at his head. He sucks harder, eases his fingers out, and slams then home again. I grab a fist full of his hair, and hold him in place as my orgasm rocks through me. I slap my hand over my mouth to cover my cries and then fall back on the bed, a shaken, sobbing mess.

  “He can lay claim to you all he wants, darlin’, but that pussy is mine. Always has been, right from the minute I first touched you.”

  Even though my body is still humming from one of the best orgasms of my life, I want more. I need more, and I hate him for it. I burrow my face into the crook of my elbow to hide my tears and whisper, “Get out.”

  He doesn’t make any attempt to leave, and I have to clamp my jaw down tight to keep from screaming. “Get. Out.”

  “Hols,” he warns as he stands. My eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and even now as he towers over the bed I can see the strong set of his shoulders. Jackson Rowe. The man I love. The man who just ripped me wide open with nothing more than his mouth, and a few harsh truths.