by L. B. Dunbar
“So, yeah, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about the other night. Levi told me I was out of line, and I don’t want to get kicked out or a bad grade or anything. So I wanted to say I was sorry.” He slipped his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. Rolling on the balls of his feet, I realized that the man-looking person before me was still barely out of childhood at twenty-something-years old. I could never have slept with someone so young, but it didn’t hurt to take a second look at him. He was a gorgeous man. Hopefully, he was a good man, too.
“I wouldn’t dock your grade, Grant. All in good fun, right? Did you enjoy the bar?” I asked.
“Yeah, but we left early. Might have had too much fun, if you know what I mean.” He winked and the playful, flirtatious side of my student returned.
“I know what you mean.”
“You okay, Professor Peters? You seemed like you were running from something the other night.”
I stared at this young man. I was running the other night. Running from the past. Running from the history of being cheated on and the fear that it could happen again. Running from the past of a man who played the field, but was ready to settle at home plate. No more running away, though. We needed to face things as they happened, together.
“I’m fine, Grant. Thanks for asking.” I was fine. I was better than fine, actually. “Thanks for bringing down the flowers.” I nodded in the direction of the arrangement.
“Sure. Okay, see ya in class,” he said with a feeble wave. After he left my doorway, I pulled the card from the bouquet.
Thanks for the ride.
I smiled to myself. Merek. Reaching for a flower, I stroked the delicate petal. I had a few minutes before class so I texted him.
- Thank you for the flowers.
- Yeah? You’re welcome, darlin’
- They’re beautiful.
- So are you.
- I lck you, too.
I smiled to myself then did a double take. Wait, what?
- You lick me?
Shit, where was autocorrect when you needed it? I’m typing my correction when he responds.
- I like you.
Smiling, I laughed. Out loud. Then another message appeared.
- But if you want me to lick you, I can do that, too.
Suddenly, another body part smiled.
- Maybe soon. I need to get to class.
There was no response after that and I gathered my things for my short story course with a cheesy grin on my face and the potential for a wet problem between my legs. I walked briskly to the classroom hoping to ward off the sudden ache with some stimulating conversation about short stories.
“Ew,” Jonathan Martinez shivers in his seat as we finished a passage with an older couple. “Old love,” he muttered, loud enough he grabbed the room’s attention. Looking up from the story, I questioned him.
“What’s ‘old love’?” Air-quotes emphasized the phrase.
“You know, when old people are all cutesy with each other and stuff.”
I blinked in utter surprise.
“What’s ‘and stuff’?”
“You know, when they’re all kissy and say cute things to each other. They’re silly over each other.” He shivered exaggeratedly from his seat.
“OTP,” Andrea said next to him. “I think it’s adorable.”
“What’s ‘OTP’?” I asked, feeling older and older by the minute. I worried I was about to get an inappropriate education.
“OTP. One true pair, Professor,” Andrea explained, like I was a child. “The grandfather and the nurse.” She waved her hand over the short story. I laughed. I was certainly learning a lot today in my own class.
“Okay, back to Jonathan for a moment. What’s your definition of old? Remember this is the 1700s. The grandfather isn’t as old as yours might be, considering we live almost double the amount of time.” Holding my breath, I awaited his answer, expecting what he was about to say.
“Over forty,” he squeaked, shifting his eyes from me to the girl sitting next to him. I laughed, shaking my head.
“I’m over forty,” I stated, still smiling.
“Yeah, well, you’re different. You don’t seem that old,” Andrea assured me.
Out of the mouths of twenty-year-olds.
Class eventually ended on that note, and I couldn’t contain my excitement to see the flowers sitting on my desk. They were thoughtful and a true novelty for me. Considering it had only been two days since Merek and I decided we were going to work at building something more, it was a sweet gesture. Romantic even.
I entered my small space, which had one window, one desk, an extra chair and a large messy bookcase, to stare at the flower arrangement. Standing before my computer, I jumped when I heard a voice.
“So this is where you work?”
Merek’s voice filled the cozy space, and I spun to face him. I couldn’t contain the beaming smile on my face.
“Hey! What brings you here?”
Stepping into my office, he closed my door, and leaned against it.
“Cassie had some medical forms that needed to be handed in because she started a week late. Thought it was easiest just to bring them here myself.” The comment brought the excitement of seeing him down a notch. Things would be raw for a little while as we wove our way through how a relationship might work.
“But I had another matter to discuss with you.” His hand slid up the door and flicked the lock. “You don’t have another class yet, right?” His listening skills were unbelievable. It appeared he had my class schedule memorized from a conversation.
“Nope. Nothing until one. Why?” I smiled slowly, the tension between us rising, but it didn’t have to do with the issue of Cassie and her late start. This was something else, and that mischievous grin of his began to spread. Those dimples appeared under his salt-and-pepper stubble.
“Licking,” he stated definitively, his mouth still tweaked upward. My underwear nearly melted. For some reason, I backed up against my desk, as if he was going to attack me. In many ways, I wanted him to pounce. His hand flipped the light switch. My office grew darker, but not too dark, as the one window had open blinds. Lights off signaled my office was closed, and that was good enough. Merek stalked toward me.
“Don’t you have to work?” I questioned, just filling the silence as those dark eyes sparked.
“I do, but there was a small emergency. A flame was started and I’ve come to put it out.”
“A fire,” I smirked, swallowing hard as his body came up against mine. “Good thing you’re a fireman.”
“That’s commander to you,” he teased.
“Yes, sir,” I whispered. His eyes closed and his hands tugged on my hips.
“You have no idea what that just did to me,” he grinned, opening his eyes to reveal darkness ablaze with desire. The material of my pencil skirt rose. My bare legs were exposed. Impulsively, my feet spread apart.
“Are we really going to do this here?” My voice came out strangled, but thrilled and paranoid.
“Yes,” he confirmed as he knelt on one knee and then the other. My underwear came down to my ankles. My skirt pushed up to my hips. Merek’s mouth came to my center. I gripped the edge of my desk, holding myself upright with the lip assault on my lower region.
“I could get fired,” I whispered, one hand coming to his hair, holding his head against me while his tongue parted my folds and lapped at me.
“Good thing I’m a fire man,” he mocked, blowing against the tender skin that needed his mouth back where it had been.
“That was a terrible line.” I inhaled sharply as his mouth sucked my lower lips. All thoughts of losing my job evaporated as I lost control to Merek and his mouth. The blaze lit rapidly within me and I ignited quickly. My legs shook afterward and my body trembled. I needed to sit down.
He kissed my inner thigh as he pulled up my underwear. He stood methodically, dragging his body close to mine. His mouth captured mine, paying the same attention to my lips
as he had below. He nipped and sucked in the same manner, then released his tongue to dance with mine. Kissing for too brief a time, he pulled back. I was dazed and sated, but I still needed more of him.
“That was…unexpected. Incredible, but unexpected.” I reached for his belt, and tugged the strap. “What about you?” I questioned nervously, uncertain I could follow through with going down on Merek in my office.
“This was all for you. An office visit. I make them, as well as house calls,” he teased.
Old love came to mind. Merek was excessively playful, and silly.
“Want to share my lunch?” I asked. I still had more than an hour before my next class. His mouth kissed me.
“I just did.”
I laughed. “Oh my God, Merek, I…” I what? I like him. It was more than that. I adored him. He made me feel young again. Forget old love, or rather embrace old love. I loved how silly he could be. I loved that he sent me flowers. I loved that he just gave me an orgasm in my office and he asked for nothing in return. I loved him. Plain and simple, old school, and all. I loved Merek. Instantly, I knew the words would be too much for him. Our start to a relationship was all backwards and bumpy roads, and I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it. I’d keep those words tucked away for a while. I was fine with that. Just fine.
“You what?” he asked, jostling my hips.
“I need to make that up to you.” My eyes shifted down to my toes then back up to his face.
“Tonight,” he said. “My shift isn’t done until midnight. I’ll come to you. Another house call.”
Merek and I had talked after getting caught at his house. We discussed how we’d work it out. How we could still use the apartment as our escape, but the place was further in town and twenty minutes from where we lived. We were three blocks and two minutes away from each other. We had to come up with another plan.
“I have a proposition for you,” he’d said. My eyes rolled. “I propose, we date. Real dates. Dinner, dancing, movies, whatever you’d like.” I remembered nodding my head to agree.
“I only have one hard limit,” I said, and watched as his face grew thoughtful.
“Okay,” he’d replied, hesitantly.
“We still have to have sex. And kissing. Lots of kissing.”
Marshall was already seated in the front row bleacher seats, the seat next to him empty. I took mine with a heavy thump.
“Well, imagine my surprise seeing you here,” he smirked, before standing and leaning over me. “Great seats.”
“Emme,” he breathed, reaching out to hug her. They connected over me, and I slapped his stomach hard.
“Get off my girl,” I said. Marshall pulled back and smacked my shoulder. Emme sat next to me and laughed. It was a glorious fall day; not quite releasing summer with its blue skies and mild temperature, not quite embracing the cold that can come in a Midwest September. I slipped my arm around Emme’s seat and she turned to face me. Without a thought, I kissed her.
I faced forward, feeling the weight of my brother’s eyes on me.
“Watch the game,” I muttered through closed lips, but my brother stared.
“Oh my God, I really won,” he scoffed.
“Won what?” Emme asked over me.
“Nothing,” Marshall and I yelped at the same time. Marshall slapped my shoulder again and sat back in his seat. Within minutes, the beer man called out and Marshall raised his hand for an order. I knew Emme would only sip hers, but I didn’t comment. I’d drink what she didn’t finish. With the cups passed down the row, Marshall waited until we each had ours.
“What should we drink to?” he teased. Emme sat forward and waited for me to respond.
“I know,” Marshall continued. He coughed as he said: “Commitment.” He tapped my plastic cup and drank heartily.
“You can be an ass,” I laughed as I took a drink.
“What’s that all about?” Emme asked quietly, smiling as she took a sip of beer.
“Nothing,” I shrugged. Emme’s hand rubbed down my arm and her fingers laced with mine. The touch wasn’t meant to start anything, but the feel of her hands on me were flicks of light from an ember fire.
“Nothing important,” I said, turning to kiss her shoulder. Pulling my head up, her eyes met mine and I kissed her again. I couldn’t help myself. Every single time we were together, I couldn’t keep my lips from her. She couldn’t keep her hands away from me. She told me how Nate and she weren’t very affectionate outside of the bedroom, and while I wasn’t one for public displays of affection, I never minded holding her hand or wrapping an arm around her. In fact, I liked the feel of it and did it often.
I kissed her again. She pulled back, thinking my intent was for something quick, but my hand reached up to cup her cheek, drawing her back to me. I lengthened the kiss, holding her lips to mine. Commitment, Marshall toasted. Devotion, that’s what this was. I was devoted to showing Emme over and over how much she meant to me. Kissing her was an important act to confirm my feelings. I’d waited nearly twenty years to share this intimate expression with someone, and I didn’t want the sensation to end.
“Get a room, will ya?” Bridge drawled in her Irish brogue, breaking me away from Emme while she sidestepped over my legs to get to the seat on the other side of Marshall. “Oh wait, you already have one, at Marshall’s.” She smirked, raising her eyebrows mischievously. “I don’t know whether to hose you down, or hose me down,” she said with a huff. “You’re looking at that girl like she’s a peanut and you want to crack her open.” She sighed. “Pregnancy hormones,” she muttered. Emme laughed.
“I appreciate those hormones,” Marshall commented.
“Well, it’d be nice if you appreciated a few other things,” she remarked in her heavy accent.
“Aww, baby, you know I love you,” Marshall said, and I did a double-take at his use of those words.
“That’s what you keep saying,” Bridge laughed, shaking her head. “Then this babe will be born and you’ll be running for the hills.”
“Hey Bridge, when you due again?” I chuckled, a thought coming to me.
“December,” she said. “Why?”
“Blackhawks season?” Mmmmm… “Boxseats are in order, Marshall,” I smirked, raising my eyebrow.
“Not gonna happen,” Marshall laughed, shaking his head.
“Oh, it’s gonna happen,” I teased. The second Marshall saw that newborn baby, he’d be on his knees, begging Bridge to marry him. Commitment was next for my baby brother. “I’d like full service wait staff, too, please.”
“You two are so strange,” Bridge commented, tossing out her wild red hair.
“Nah,” I said. “We’re just committed.” That made Marshall spit out his beer.
Later that night, Emme and I were in my kitchen. She leaned against my counter while I dropped pasta in the boiling pot of water.
“You know, you’ve called me ‘your girl,’ a few times,” she swallowed slowly, taking a sip of her wine. “Are you saying I’m your girlfriend?”
“I…”
“I’m a little old to be called that,” she wrinkled her nose, looking too cute as I could see the wheels start spinning behind her eyes. We’d been together for more than a month, juggling our schedules and that of our kids, trying to work in real dates and sexy time when we could, where we could. I wasn’t lying when I told her I wanted her in my bed. I didn’t like her always having to leave and sneak back home to her house where we would each end up sleeping alone. We had a weekend away planned for October, where we’d finally get a whole night alone and a real breakfast date.
“Maybe woman friend,” I teased. I could be demonstrative, and call her my woman, like I possessed her, but I didn’t think Emme would appreciate that. Besides, she owned me, not the other way around. I liked calling her my girl, like we were young. I wasn’t pretending we were, but it felt right calling her that.
“Ew, that sounds worse,” she chuckled.
“Emme, are you fishing
for a label?” We weren’t fuck buddies. We were more than friends with benefits. I wasn’t lying when I said I could see Emme as my wife, but we were taking our time getting to that point.
“You can call me Uber. I can call you rider,” I teased.
“That was still the worst pick up line,” she said, her voice falling short. I approached where she stood against the counter. Bracing my feet on either side of hers, I took her face in my hands, tilting it up to me.
“Emme, I don’t want to pick you up, I want to keep you. I want to see you every day. Be in you every night. I want to hold you and touch you. I want to tell you about my day. I want to know the thoughts I see dancing behind those eyes. I don’t want one-time sex and one-night stands. I don’t want benefits. You are the benefit. I want you to be my friend and my lover. I want to fuck you and make love to you and kiss you and own you, because you own me, when you kiss me like you do, and make love to me, and fuck me. So deep, Emme, I feel you so deep around me and in me, it scares the crap out of me. I didn’t know I’d been biding my time, waiting for you, Emme. Now, I don’t want to waste time. And I don’t need a label for this.”
She stared at me, but within minutes, I had her perched on the counter, thrusting forward in the motion of sex, while my hands roved her breasts and her mouth captured mine. I don’t know who lurched for who first. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was Emme pressed against me. She was in my hands and on my mouth and in my heart.
“God, I love you,” she muttered against my lips. I stilled. My hands stopped roving. My mouth released hers. Our eyes met.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that out. Verbal vomit. Can’t control.” Her mouth did that spewing thing, like when we first met. My lips covered hers to stop her. Our mouths melded. One hand came to the back of her neck. The other laced fingers with hers. I pulled back after sucking her lower lip.
“Don’t take it back,” I whispered. “I love you, too.” The words weren’t difficult. Our mouths crashed again.
