Forbidden Fruit Vol 2

by Millstead, Kasey

  “It’s a little weird but not bad. They’re all nice.”

  “You can go. They’ll understand.”

  “I’m okay,” he says with a little smile. He’s probably still buzzed from the blow job. I could get him to do just about anything right now.

  After dinner, with no power and nothing else to do, we sit by the fire pit where the meal had been cooked, in big, cushy chairs made for two. The fire feels great in the cool, evening weather.

  “This fabric is gorgeous,” I tell Monica as I stroke the fabric. She’s a novice interior decorator, but she’s motivated, and everything about her cabin shows her skills. The couples are all paired off. Tyson and I are as well, but we keep our distance.

  “The power company said they’d be up tomorrow,” Dan says and tosses a log on the fire.

  “Thank goodness,” I say. “It’s sweltering working in that cottage with no fans.”

  “Good thing it cools off at night,” Becky says, just as a small gust of wind flows through the trees. She shivers then runs her hands over her arms. “At least we can sleep.”

  “Let me get you a blanket,” Monica says and hops up before anyone can protest. She returns with a stack of fuzzy, soft blankets and deposits one in each of our laps. She pauses in front of Tyson. “You okay, honey?”

  Monica hands Tyson the blanket, and he covers us both with it. That’s when I feel his fingers brush against my leg. I shiver, but this time not from the wind. I shoot him a warning look.

  He looks the picture of innocence, but I see the glint of lust in his eye. He’s got dirty thoughts on his mind, and I’m both terrified and excited, wondering what exactly he’s planning. I know soon enough when Tyson’s finger grazes the side of my thigh before he bunches the dress so it rises up my leg.

  Tyson’s list, scribbled in messy handwriting, flashes in my mind, and I figure he’s got number six planned. Public sex. Hell, this kid is dirty. And persistent.

  I shift in my seat, not sure if I’m trying to get away or give him better access. It doesn’t matter. He’s determined, and the minute I move he slips a hand between my legs. I pull my knee up to tent the blanket and give him room to roam.

  “At some point, I’m afraid they’ll have to pave these roads,” Bob says. “These storms come too often, and the utility vehicles can’t make it up here to do the work.”

  “Ugh, paving?” Monica replies. “I don’t know if I want that.”

  The conversation carries on around us, while Tyson strokes my inner thigh. His actions ignite a fire deep in my belly. I pretend to pay attention to the conversation around me, even nodding on occasion. Paying me back for my lessons in patience, Tyson rubs his thumb over my panties until they grow wet.

  “What do you think, Avery? Your family’s owned a house up here longer than the rest of us.”

  I take a sip of wine and hope no one notices my hand shaking. Tyson doesn’t relent, even though all eyes are on me. Including his. “I think that’s a subject the city council will determine” I say as I feel his fingers dip beneath my panties and begin circling the one spot that enflames me and makes me burn with pleasure. Not touching it—of course not. Payback sucks. I steady myself and say, “No matter what we think.”

  Dan laughs. “Guess you’ll be going to city council meetings then, Bob.”

  I focus on the fire and the feeling of his fingers as they slip inside, where he moves them, slow and discrete. I want to cry that he left the sensitive area of my clit, but what he’s doing feels good. So good that my eyelids flutter from the desire to lean back and sink into the moment. Without warning, Tyson slides his fingers out and rubs them fiercely across my clit. They’re thoroughly wet. From there, my release is swift, and my body twitches in waves of bliss. I try to keep a straight face while breathing in and out through my nose as he continues to stroke me, longer than necessary. I can only hope my flushed cheeks are masked by the firelight.

  “Anyone want more wine?” Monica asks and gives me a weird look. I take the last gulp and shake my head.

  “Um,” I say in what I hope is a steady voice. “I think I’ve had enough for one night. And, you know, I think I should probably head back.”

  “Already?” Martha asks. “Don’t let these guys scare you off with their boring talk about paved roads and utilities.”

  “It’s not that, I promise.”

  Tyson jumps in. “We painted all day and have another full one tomorrow.”

  Becky smiles and says, “It must be hard to keep up with a nineteen year-old.”

  I glance at Tyson, who manages to keep a straight face, and say, “You have no idea.”

  ~*~*~*~

  Two weeks later, we have sanded floors, a prepped bathroom, and a functional kitchen. The new sink with granite counter top has been ordered, the shower has hot and cold water, and I’ve installed a toilet that actually works. It flushes and everything.

  This morning Tyson made scrambled eggs. On the stove.

  We’ve both learned a lot.

  Hours of stroking, caressing, and deep breathing has taught Tyson that going at something hard isn’t always the right way to get the best results. A little finesse goes a long way. If something’s too easy, it’s probably not worth it. On the other hand, I’ve learned it’s okay to let someone else take charge and opening myself up isn’t going to kill me.

  “So, today we finish the floors,” he says as he pours more coffee in my cup.

  “Yep. I got all the supplies yesterday. Polyurethane. Mops. Masks, so we don’t pass out from the fumes.”

  “I can’t believe we did all this.”

  “Me neither.”

  “I also can’t believe I’m leaving next week.”

  I smile. “It’s going to be great. I’m jealous. I want to go back to college.”

  “You work at a college. You go back every year.”

  “Yeah, but I have all these responsibilities and boring adult things to do.”

  He glances around the room. “You think we’ll get it all done?”

  “I think your mom can stay up here with you on Friday when she comes to get you.”

  He snorts and walks over to the dresser. He swaps out his shirt and reveals his sleek, toned body. I stare, unabashedly. “Not sure that’s the woman I want to share a room with.”

  “Babe, you knew this was coming to an end.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t have to like it.”

  I frown and put down my cup. “Are you mad?”

  He shakes his head. “No, but I’m not going to pretend leaving here and you won’t suck a little.”

  “There’s no other way,” I tell him, a little wistful myself.

  “I know,” he says and gives me a small smile. He’s smart and realistic. Thank god. “We’ve got two more things to do on that list before the week is up.”

  “We would have completed it if you hadn’t gotten hung up on number three.”

  He grins. “Man, I love number three.”

  “Me, too.”

  He runs his hand down my side and grazes the side of my breast. “Can we do it now?”

  I shake my head and point to the supplies in the corner. “You know the rules. Work first.”

  He leans down to cup my face and gives me a hot, lingering kiss. I feel that kiss down to my toes and want more, but he’s gone down the stairs, off to work.

  ~*~*~*~

  My phone rings while Tyson’s in the shower. We’ve gotten three coats of poly on the floors, and we’re so close to finishing this cottage I can taste it. Tom’s number pops up, and I answer.

  “Hey! How are you?”

  “I’m good. Missing you. It’s been a while.”

  “Well, you went to the beach and left me up here in the storm of the century,” I say.

  “I know. Things were a little crazy at the restaurant when I got back. It’s settled down now. I thought maybe we could have dinner.”

  I hear the shower turn off. “I’d love to, but Tyson and I are close to finish
ing this project. He’s having to stay down here in the cabin while the floors dry. We wouldn’t have much privacy.”

  “You could come to my place.”

  A flare of longing ignites in my chest. His voice is familiar and safe, and for once, it’s comforting. I’ve missed him more than I expected, especially under the circumstances. I’ve had fun and am definitely satisfied, but being with Tyson has taught me a lot about opening up to others. I want to share that with Tom.

  Tyson comes into view, dripping wet with his towel wrapped low on his hips. A conflicting urge washes over me. Bev gets here tomorrow, and this is our last night together.

  “I’m going to have to pass,” I say as I walk onto the back porch for some privacy. “But Tyson leaves soon, and we’ll have time to reconnect then.”

  He sighs, but it’s good-natured. “I’ll just have to wait.”

  “Seems to be our thing, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, I guess it is,” he says with a hint of resignation in his voice.

  “Give me a couple days, Tom, because I’m starting to think it doesn’t have to be.”

  I hang up and consider that for the first time, I may be ready for something more.

  ~*~*~*~

  For our last meal together, I actually cook. Nothing fancy but steak, potatoes, and roasted vegetables. Homemade, from the box, chocolate cake for dessert. We dine on the back porch at the small patio table. I watch Tyson eat every bit, in that way growing young men inhale their food as though they’re literally starving. It’s strangely glorious.

  “Come on, we can be quiet,” he argues before stuffing a piece of cake in his mouth.

  “Sorry, but I’m not getting busted by Monica if we go skinny dipping.”

  “She’ll never know.”

  “Dude, she’s probably watching us right now. She has binoculars, you know.”

  “But it’s on my list,” he says and pouts. He also dips his head and looks up, giving me the saddest puppy-dog eyes.

  “Nope,” I say. “But, because it’s our last night, you can pick anything else you want.”

  He leans back in his chair and rubs his chin. “You know, you’re pretty damn awesome.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “No, I mean it. Like, I really didn’t want to come up here this summer. I was pissed at my parents, and all I wanted to do was spend the summer chasing girls around the pool.”

  “So you came up here and chased me around the lake instead. Bummer.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I thought I would sit up in my room and jerk off to porn, but then you and I clicked, and well…yeah. Everything else.”

  “You did a great job on the guest house. You worked really hard, and I appreciate it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “As long as we’re each saying our piece, I want to thank you for helping me get through that mess in the cottage. Emotionally, I mean. I’d been avoiding it for years. My parents’ death was hard on me, and I just didn’t want to sort through it all. You made it fun.”

  “And sexy?” He waggles his eyebrows.

  I laugh. “Very sexy.”

  We’re saying our thank yous but skirting around the big issue. The sex thing, which ultimately I guess we don’t really need to talk about. The sex is great. Amazing. And after tonight, it won’t happen again.

  “I know it may seem like I’ve always had my shit together. Living alone. Traveling and having my career. But I’ve spent a lot of time afraid to commit. Afraid I would be missing out on something else. The next big thing. Ironically, that’s what led me to you. Being available and ready when you dropped into my life. But at the same time, I know that’s not where I want to be in a year.” I run my hand down his arm. “You gave me the chance to have one last killer fling and finally settle down into this house—my home. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says, but I can tell my statement confuses him. It confuses me, too, but it’s how I feel at the moment.

  Tyson takes his last bite of cake, picks up his plate, and carries it to the kitchen. I gather the rest and follow. At the sink, he turns and takes the plates from me and leaves them on the counter.

  “Since we can’t do it in the lake…” He sighs dramatically. “I guess we’ll have to do it here.”

  “Here?” I look around. “In the kitchen?”

  He steps closer and kisses my neck. A shiver runs down my spine. “I’ve been thinking about taking you here since that first night.”

  “When you watched?”

  “Mmmhmmm,” he mumbles into my mouth. He tastes like chocolate and sugar. Delicious.

  Tyson pushes me against the long wood table that runs the length of the kitchen. He tugs at the buttons running up the front of my dress. It opens to expose my breasts.

  “No bra?” he says, marveling as he takes me in. He rubs his thumbs over the peaks, until they’re firm and alert. I arch back in approval.

  He lifts my skirt, and I hop on the table where I spread my legs wide. I hear him laugh when he spots I’m not wearing underwear, either.

  “I figured it would be easier,” I tell him shakily, but he’s not listening. He’s bent between my legs and pressing his lips against my inner thigh.

  “Your scent drives me insane.” He runs his hands up under my dress, and I feel his breath. He slips a finger between my folds, and I moan in surprise.

  “Fuck you’re sexy.”

  Tyson probes his tongue in deep as he uses his thumb to circle my clit. The feeling’s sensational. It’s all-consuming, and I move my hips to seek more friction.

  “Not yet,” he tells me and pins me to the table. He goes back to work, licking and sucking, Whatever he was doing, it’s diving me mad.

  The tension builds, and my body finds a rhythm of its own. Tyson must sense it, because he stands abruptly. I whine in surprise, not happy he’s stopped, but he’s already yanking down his shorts and kicking them off. With both hands he hauls my body down the table, spins me around, and enters me from behind.

  “Holy fuck.”

  The minute Tyson’s inside me, he pounds into me, and I brace myself against the table, palms flat. My knees buckle, and he wraps an arm around my stomach to hold me up.

  Then he fucks me. Hard, the way he likes it. He’s found a natural balance, slow and patient with me and hard and dirty for himself. Through the thrusting, I feel a sense of pride. I’ve taught him well that it’s not all about him. That it’s about the people involved in the act—how they feel—what they both want.

  He strokes my clit, and I tremble and shake, overcome with pleasure. I feel him pull away from me before he slams into me hard, three times, because he’s filled with more spunk than he rightfully should be.

  I lean over the table, breathless and wobbly. His stomach is slick with sweat against my back, and I can feel the warm panting of his breath on my neck. I struggle to find words.

  “Well, that was…uh, wow.”

  “I told you I’d been thinking of that one for a while. I just sort of had my own twist to add at the end.”

  “Damn, yeah, that was good. Yeah.” I’m stammering like a fool, trying to regain my mental facilities, not to mention the feeling in my legs. I touch his face and bring him down for a kiss. Then we both freeze when we hear a tap against the back door.

  “Who is that?” he whispers.

  “I have no idea.”

  There’s another knock, this time louder, and I hear someone call my name.

  “Shit. It’s Monica. Hide,” I say while I frantically search for my clothes. Tyson grabs his shorts and tosses me his shirt. I tug it over my head then throw my dress at his head as he leaves the room. Great. No bra, no panties. I look down at the Ashford Park High School T-shirt. Fucking hell.

  I grab a towel off the stove and wipe my face, before going to the door. I see Monica and wave before opening it a crack. Rude but necessary.

  “Hey girl, what’s going on?”

  She tilts her head
, confused that I haven’t invited her in. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I, uh, fell asleep in front of the TV.”

  “I hear that.” She laughs. “I can barely stay up to watch The Daily Show any more.”

  “Right.” I raise my eyebrows, hoping she’ll get to the point.

  “So yeah, just wanted to let you know that we’re going down to the city for the next couple of days. Can you keep an eye out on the house?”

  “Sure, of course.”

  “I also wanted to say goodbye to Tyson. We’ll be gone when he leaves. I tried the cottage, but it’s locked up.”

  “Yeah, the floors are drying. He’s staying down here tonight.” I still only have the door open a crack. “But, let me see if he’s still up.”

  I walk, well, run is more accurate, away from the door and crash into Tyson. He’s standing around the corner in front of the refrigerator with a gallon of milk in his hand and a smirk on his face. Bastard.

  “Monica come on in. He’s right here,” I say.

  I duck into my room to put on some pants and a sweatshirt. When I come back, I find them in a quick embrace.

  “So, your mom gets here tomorrow?” she asks.

  “Yep. About midday I think. Right, Avery?”

  “Yes. I think so. Can’t wait to see her.”

  Monica takes in my clothes, the dirty dishes, and the salt and pepper shakers upturned on the table. Then she plasters a convincing smile on her face and says, “Well, best of luck, Tyson. It was great getting to know you this summer.”

  “Thank you, uh, ma’am. You too.”

  “Tyson, will you go up and close the windows on the cottage?” I say. “I don’t want any animals getting in and wrecking the floors tonight.”

  “Yeah,” he agrees. “That would suck.”

  He skirts past us and goes out the back door. Monica and I are left alone, and I walk to the sink where I turn on the water.

  “Holy shit, Avery, you didn’t.”

  I glance over my shoulder, and Monica’s eyes are as big as saucers and her mouth is hanging open.

  “Didn’t what?”

  “It smells like sex in here. You look like you just got the senses banged out of you. And Tyson, Lord, he can’t even keep the grin off his face.”