The Sirens of SaSS Anthology

by Anthology

  “I’m always cold. How did you hear about the place we’re going?”

  “It’s near where I grew up.”

  “And where’s that?”

  “Bucks County. How about you?”

  Not a good topic. I adjusted the dial for the heat. “It is a little warm. How long have you had this car?”

  “Wow.” He laughed. “You’re really going to completely ignore my question?”

  “What did you ask?”

  He turned and gave me a look that said he was positive I knew. “Where did you grow up?”

  “A little nowhere town out west.”

  “What’s it called?”

  “Um, Blackwater.”

  “How far is it from Philly?”

  “What, are you writing a book?”

  He laughed again. “No, just trying to get to know my date. The fact that you’re getting defensive only intrigues me more. Why don’t you like talking about where you’re from?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  I fidgeted, getting cold again. Adjusted the dial, I turned up the heat. “My life three years ago was nothing like it is now. Trust me, there’s nothing intriguing about where I’m from.”

  “I highly doubt that. Do you have a big family?”

  “Four brothers and one sister.”

  He frowned. “How come you didn’t visit them for Thanksgiving?”

  “We don’t do holidays. They all have … other obligations.”

  He glanced at me and back to the road. “You guys don’t get along?”

  Growing up as we had, it was survival of the fittest. Aside from Drew, I didn’t get along with any of them. And Drew was still active military, so the most I saw from him was his handwriting on a postcard since Gavin died. “We’re not really close. We’re only half-siblings.”

  “Oh. Did you grow up in the same house?”

  House… Trailer… “Yes, but I’m the baby so they were mostly gone by the time I graduated high school. We don’t really keep in touch.” Kenny should have graduated the same year as me, but he’d run away that spring and last I’d heard he was in jail.

  “What about your parents?”

  “My mom’s still there. I talk to her every couple of weeks.”

  “And your dad?”

  I sighed. “Can we not do this?”

  His eyes strayed from the road, but only briefly. “Sure. Sorry.”

  I was terrible at this. No wonder I preferred dating people who didn’t give a shit about the real details of my life. I had no experience with sharing. “Um, what about you? Are you close to your family?”

  “Yeah. I only have one sister and my parents are awesome. They’re living in Florida for the winter—snowbirds—so I haven’t seen them since Thanksgiving.”

  “Oh.”

  “No one’s at the house tonight. I could show you where I grew up.”

  I was equally intrigued and frightened to see his childhood home. “Okay.”

  We reached a small town in less than thirty minutes. Charming stores dotted the old street and I suddenly felt like I was on the set of Gilmore Girls. “You grew up here?”

  “Right down that road.”

  “It’s so pretty.”

  “It’s a nice area. They filmed the movie Signs in the next town over.”

  It looked like a movie set. He parked in a half-full lot filled with expensive cars. As I waited for him to get my door it occurred to me he hadn’t taken me anywhere over the top, but somewhere that would teach me a little bit about him. It was personal and intimate, in a way my other dates weren’t.

  The taproom was a restored historic building with exposed stone masonry and glass walls and vaulted ceilings. The menu was New York inspired but simple—gourmet pizzas and samples of exotically seasoned lamb skewers and bacon wrapped scallops. It was delicious and laid back.

  The waiter supplied narrow trays of tiny beer glasses, each one a different shade of amber and some tastier than the rest. “I don’t usually drink beer, but this is fun. I like learning the different flavors.”

  He nudged the last glass to me. “Drink up. I’m driving.”

  I giggled, my tension from earlier loosened after several samples. “Are you trying to get me drunk on the first date?”

  “It’s only a first if there’s going to be a second.”

  “True.”

  The word left my lips before my common sense weighed in. The agreement was one date. One. Yet, the idea of doing this or something like this with Noah again held more appeal than I wanted to admit. I was enjoying myself more than I had on a date in … years. Or … ever.

  I raised the glass and sipped. “This one’s good.”

  “What’s your degree?”

  “Education.”

  “Really?”

  “Does that surprise you?”

  “No, I think there’s a nurturer hidden in you somewhere, the sort who makes her neighbor chicken soup when he’s sick.”

  “Well, it was broth—”

  “It was sweet.” His hand closed over mine, his thumb tracing the back of my fingers. “What grade do you want to teach?”

  “Kindergarten or sixth grade. They’re not as cute in between.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t say high school. You’d have a class full of hard-ons and no volunteers to go to the board.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “No, you don’t. You know boys better than most and you’re well aware of how pretty you are.”

  When he called me out like that it made me nervous. “Did you go to college in the city?”

  “No, I did a two year school down south that specialized in media, arts, and technology.”

  “So you always knew what you wanted to do?”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “No.”

  I just knew I wanted something different, something useful and respectable. I wanted something I could count on not to become obsolete and something that would make others believe I was decent and good—two things I very much wanted to be.

  He glanced over his shoulder, but there was no one left in the dining room but us. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

  “And go where?”

  He shrugged. “Walk around? Drive?”

  “Two seconds ago you said I knew boys. That carries over to men.” If leaving here meant driving back to the city and saying goodnight he wouldn’t be rushing us out the door.

  His blue eyes met mine and he smiled. “Touché. Will you let me show you where I grew up?”

  “Noah…”

  “Night’s not over, Avery. Have you been enjoying yourself so far?”

  “Yes, but…”

  He tossed several twenties on the table and stood. “Come on. It’ll be fun. I’ll show you where my mom keeps the embarrassing pictures of me.”

  Unsure if this was a mistake, I followed him. What choice did I have? He was my ride home.

  Chapter Thirteen

  His house was enormous, the sort of home featured in magazines with Martha Stewart baking muffins in the kitchen and Pottery Barn furniture in every room.

  “I’ll hang up your coat.”

  He left me standing in a gaping foyer feeling well outside of my comfort zone.

  “Want a tour?”

  “Sure.” Our backgrounds had never been so contrasted, as they were the moment he flipped on the lights.

  The kitchen was incredible and there was an entire game room in the basement, flush with cinema chairs and a big screen television and endless arcade games. He took my hand and escorted me into what could only be the living room. It was twice the size of my mom’s trailer.

  “I can’t believe you grew up here. It’s a suburban palace.” And completely intimidating.

  “Wanna see upstairs?”

  I hesitated, knowing full well what upstairs would lead to and unsure why I was still fighting what now seemed an inevitable outcome. I was in a losing battle and it wasn’t li
ke me to surrender without a fight.

  There were consequences. I knew my answer would come at a price, but standing here in his beautiful—normal—childhood home made me want to pretend I belonged, pretend I was worthy. But tomorrow we would be back home and I’d be a sugar baby and he’d be the out of my league man I fucked. He had to realize the consequences wouldn’t change. Was it just about tonight for him? Was that how he could overlook all the ways we were unsuited? Was this about sharing his background or fucking me on a neutral playing field? “Why did you bring me here, Noah?”

  He cocked his head. “I wanted to show you who I was.”

  And he had. He wasn’t playing the douche bag, nor was he trying to impress me with over the top treatment. He was just being himself and it wasn’t fair that the real him was more irresistible than the handsome stranger who lived across the hall.

  Everything was normal here. My phone hadn’t rung and the costumes I wore in the city were out of sight and out of mind. I didn’t know who I was when I stood in his home, so many miles from my own. I didn’t know how to act or be with him.

  But I wanted him and I didn’t want to think about the consequences for once in my life. I wanted to live in the now and experience the fantasy, because he made the possibility of normal seem so tangible I could reach out and grab it. I just had to find the balls to give in.

  I glanced around the empty house. “Are we staying here tonight?” I inwardly winced, not used to asking, and waiting for my assertive self to take the lead.

  “Did you want to?”

  I shrugged—more shy bullshit I wasn’t used to—my fingers tracing over the polished banister that led to the second floor. “I’m not sure what I want. You confuse me.” The honest vulnerability kept leaking out. Damn it, Avery. Where are you?

  “Maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

  “Maybe it is.” It was definitely not good.

  “Care to find out?”

  My gaze lifted to his and a shiver shot through my system. This was so different from everything I thought I wanted, everything I knew I needed. Despite my wishy-washy words I had to be clear on the outcome. “What happens tomorrow?”

  “We go home and see how things play out.”

  So this might just be one night. That I could live with.

  When would I have another opportunity like this with him, alone and isolated from the stresses of the world, away from the city and the life it represented for me? If we both treated this as a one-time thing we might be able to stay friends. He’d have it out of his system and I’d prove that—in the long run—he wasn’t the right lover for me.

  Glancing down at my feet, I slipped off my heels and set them on the first step. “Show me your room.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded, too afraid to talk.

  His fingers slid alongside mine as he took my hand and led me upstairs. The house was quiet and the rooms were all immaculate. We stopped outside of a closed door and he faced me.

  “I… I don’t expect anything, Avery. Don’t think just because we’re here, I assume…”

  Why did he have to be sweet now? I needed him to be transparent otherwise we couldn’t do this. It was now or never. “I know why you brought me here.”

  “Do you … expect…?”

  Yes, and so did he. Talking was only jumbling matters. “Let’s not decide what this is and just let it happen.” I reached for the knob and opened the door.

  Grays and dark wood, uncluttered by items a teenage boy might have left behind, presented a clean space with subtle personal touches. For some reason, the maturity of the room made me like him more. It spoke of his good relationship with his family and testified he still slept here on occasion, even as an adult.

  “This is nice.” I scanned the room and stared down at the bed.

  His hands rested on my shoulders as he approached. Slowly, he swept my hair aside and pressed a kiss to my neck, causing my nipples to tighten.

  My eyes closed as I drew in a deep breath. His fingers trailed down my arms, over my hips, and across my midriff, teasing the skin of my belly.

  “I’m not going to lie, Avery. I want you more than my next breath.”

  I leaned into him, passively resting my arms at my side, wondering how long I could let someone else take control. Eventually, I’d take over, but this was nice. His fingers trailed up my stomach, teasing soft circles on my skin.

  He was like a magic snake charmer or some sort of wizard. No one else settled me the way he did and it was strange that he somehow subdued my usual instinct to take the lead. His teeth scraped along my throat and I sucked in a sharp breath that exhaled as a moan.

  “You like that, when I’m a little bit rough, don’t you?”

  Mmm… That was the only way. “Yes…”

  “I can do that.” His hand slid under my loose sweater and cupped my breast, his thumb dragging slowly over the tight tip. “You liked when I pinched your nipples, too, didn’t you?”

  “Mmm…” I had been a mess after leaving his apartment that night.

  “What is it you want, Avery? To be loved or fucked?”

  Love? My mind shied away from that sticky word.

  Love was uncomfortable, a source of guilt and obligation that led to grief. No matter how much I might want to be loved again, it wasn’t what I wanted tonight. I wanted something I could count on and judge at face value, without accidentally mistaking it for more.

  “Fuck me.”

  His hands yanked my sweater over my head and in the next second I was facing him, his fingers buried in my hair, angling my head back as his lips sealed over mine.

  He backed me toward the bed, his tongue devastating my mouth as it plunged deep, silently delivering promises of what was to come.

  “I love that you’re not breakable.” He tugged the straps of my bra down my arms and I pulled free. Grasping at his broad shoulders, I deepened the kiss.

  “You’re a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” His fingers shoved into the front of my jeans, tugging my hips closer to his as his erection pressed between us. “I can’t wait to get in your pussy.”

  I gasped as he shoved me onto the bed, his tall body towering over mine. Holding my gaze, he reached behind his head and stripped off his shirt in one forward yank.

  My mouth went dry. How was he so built when he hardly worked out? Or did he, just not at the same times I used the gym? He flicked open the button of his jeans but left the zipper intact.

  “God, you’re fucking sexy. Arms up.”

  I stiffened, his command grating against my nature and calling up all my usual instincts. “I don’t bottom.” There she is…

  “What does that even mean?”

  “It means I don’t play the submissive in bed.”

  He laughed and yanked my knees forward until I was flat on my back. “We’ll see.”

  No, we wouldn’t, because I wasn’t going to lie there like some fuck doll for him to boss around. I didn’t follow directions from men off the clock. “Freeze.” I held up a hand and he stilled. Holding eye contact, I untwisted my bra and tossed it on the floor. Next came my jeans. As I slid them down my legs, revealing a deep violet thong, I watched his color rise.

  “Jesus.”

  Shifting onto my knees, I reached for his pants, tugging him closer, much like he’d tugged me. “On your back.”

  He tumbled to the mattress and I didn’t give him a chance to contemplate how the roles had changed. I straddled his hips, rocking my body over the bulge beneath his waist and finding the position that was most pleasurable to me.

  His hands caught my hips, his grip tight, almost bruising. Just as momma was getting her groove on he flung me off of him and I was on my back again, under him.

  “Don’t be selfish.” He flashed a cocky grin and dropped his head to my breasts.

  I gasped as his mouth closed over one nipple, teeth scraping and lips pulling tight. My body arched into his, my nails scaling down his muscular arms.

>   My fist closed around his wavy hair, anchoring him to my chest. “Harder.”

  He ground his erection into me, rocking us like two teenagers on the brink of disaster. His mouth tightened while his other hand pinched and pulled. I could come if he did this a while longer.

  “Ah…” The bite to my nipple pinched on the cusp of too hard, but then my body adjusted to the pain and I moaned. My taut muscles relaxed as my lashes lowered, giving into the pleasure.

  “You really like it rough, don’t you?”

  “You have no idea.” I grabbed the back of his neck and yanked him closer, shoving his mouth to my other breast.

  He sucked and bit and I was pretty sure he was leaving a few hickies. His free hand curled around my wrist and brought my hand to his crotch. I twisted out of his grip and caught his hand, pressing it to my pussy.

  “Finger me.”

  “Bossy.”

  “Do it.”

  My panties were shoved aside as his finger drove into me. I arched beneath him, bucking against his touch, riding his palm as I still held his arm.

  “Harder.”

  “Demanding little thing.”

  “Just do it.”

  He wedged another finger into my cunt and fucked them deep. “More?”

  “Yes. Faster.”

  “Christ.” His fingers pumped hard and my eyes rolled back as he hit that magical nerve where heaven and earth met inside of a woman’s body.

  I screamed, trembling as my first climax rushed through me, bathing his fingers. We both were out of breath, but he was far from finished. “Now, clean it up.”

  He drew back and arched a brow.

  Recalling he would still be my neighbor tomorrow, I wavered between the girl he knew, the woman men wanted me to be, the control freak I was, and the class act I wanted to achieve. Fuck. Fuck! I shouldn’t be thinking this hard.

  I pleased men most of the time. This was my time. Mine and Noah’s. What if he didn’t like this side of me? What if no one would ever like her aside from Gavin? Did this part of me have to disappear with the rest of Avery Dean Mudd?

  “Forget it.” I shoved him off.

  “Wait a second!” He leveled his body over mine, refusing to let me up. “What’s happening here? Is this… Are you, like … one of those women who…”