Untamable

by Jamie Schlosser

  Goosebumps pebbled her skin, the bright light from the ceiling fan above spotlighting everything from the hitch of her breath to the four freckles on her collarbone.

  I didn’t stop there. I continued my path down her spine until I reached the curve of her ass. She shivered, and I pulled the covers up around us.

  Turning her head, Estelle speared me with those big eyes. “I don’t want tonight to be over yet. I don’t want to stop.”

  “Neither do I,” I responded before nipping at her neck. “But I’m gonna have to go to the RV to get another condom.”

  “Get two,” she demanded, making me chuckle.

  “Okay, I’ll get two.”

  But before I left, I needed to do something. I pushed Estelle onto her back and sucked one of her stiff peaks into my mouth. My tongue circled her nipple. She moaned, arching up, offering more of herself.

  “Emery,” she panted. “Hurry.”

  Scrambling to get her other arm out of the dress, she sat up and gave me an irresistible view of both tits as she wriggled it down over her hips.

  The thought of seeing her completely naked was all the motivation I needed.

  After delivering a swift kiss to her lips, I said, “I’ll be right back. Less than three minutes, I promise.”

  “Make it two,” she demanded again.

  “Greedy.” I grinned. “Two minutes. You can even time me.”

  I almost tripped up the stairs of the RV once I got through the door, but I went full speed ahead. I hadn’t even bothered to put a shirt on and my belt still hung undone around my waist.

  Not wasting any time, I went straight to the bathroom and began frantically searching the cabinet for the condoms. Rhonda was in charge of stocking everything from Advil to toilet paper. Surely safe sex was taken into consideration when making the list of necessities.

  But I didn’t find any.

  The bedroom was next. I dove onto the mattress and yanked the bedside drawer open. Staring back at me was an unopened box of Magnums. Thank God for Rhonda. I hadn’t asked for condoms in a long time, but she remembered the kind I preferred.

  After tearing into the box, I ripped two off the long chain. Fiddling with the little square packages, I contemplated the possibilities.

  I had no idea if tonight was a one-time thing. Maybe this was the last chance I’d ever get to be with Estelle. If that was the case, two more condoms wouldn’t be enough.

  Feeling overly optimistic, I dropped the two back into the drawer, then grabbed the whole box instead.

  I was ready for a long night.

  CHAPTER 10

  EMERY

  Estelle was fucking wild.

  Everything about her was unexpected, but her sexual appetite was the biggest shock of all. It was a good thing I’d decided to bring the entire box of condoms; we used five of them last night.

  Sex with Estelle wasn’t just sex. It was a life-changing experience.

  She used every single part of her body when we were together—teeth, nails, tongue. Squeezed my hips with her thighs, rubbed my calves with her feet, raked her fingers through my hair.

  I learned that her toes curled right before she was about to come.

  She was all-consuming.

  Even now, as I staggered out of her apartment in a daze before sunrise, I could smell her. Feel her lips on my skin.

  And the sounds she made—they still ricocheted in my mind. I loved that she wasn’t shy about asking for what she wanted, where she wanted it, how hard she wanted it. There was no guessing when it came to Estelle.

  Fuck me harder, Emery. Please, please. Right there. Right fucking there.

  It wasn’t until I got to the RV that I realized my shoes were on the wrong feet and my shirt was inside out.

  I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror and laughed.

  I’d done the walk of shame before, but shit. I’d never looked so disheveled in all my life. Muscles I didn’t even know I had were stiff and sore from overuse.

  Last night had presented an interesting turn of events. When Estelle called me, I thought something was seriously wrong. Then she basically attacked me. To say I was surprised didn’t even scratch the surface of how I felt.

  And as soon as her lips touched mine, I’d forgotten all the reasons why I didn’t do casual hookups.

  Why did I ever think one night with Estelle would be enough?

  Now that I’d had her, I craved her. I’d just left her place and I already wanted to go back. The short distance between the RV and her apartment suddenly seemed much too far.

  Today’s schedule was set aside for networking, so I wouldn’t even have a reason to see her until tomorrow.

  What would happen next time we saw each other? Would she pretend like last night never happened? Would she want me again or would she move on?

  Shaking off the unpleasant hollowness in my chest, I began stripping off my clothes.

  I’d just stepped out of the shower when my phone buzzed.

  Nikki: Are we still on for breakfast?

  Shit. I’d totally forgotten about our plans. Scrubbing my hair with a towel, I typed out a short reply before quickly getting dressed in a long-sleeved Henley and jeans.

  Me: Yep. Be there soon.

  Ten minutes later, I was hopping into the rented minivan for the crew and driving the short distance to the 1950s style diner where Nikki and I usually met up. It was surprisingly busy, but I spotted the back of her blond head in a booth by the window.

  Walking across the black and white checkered floor, I slid into the seat and picked up a menu.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I said, swiping my still-wet strands away from my forehead.

  “Uh-huh.” Smiling at me over her coffee mug, she asked, “Have a rough night?” Then she grimaced. “I probably don’t want to know the answer to that.”

  “Ah, kinda.” I gave her a questioning look, because how did she know these things?

  She gestured toward my neck. “You might want to cover that hickey with some concealer before filming. Might not be a bad idea for the dark circles under your eyes too.”

  Well, shit. I just shrugged, sheepish.

  “So how’s Estelle?” she went on. “You might as well spill it.”

  “What are you talking about?” I played aloof.

  “You think you can fool me?” She waggled her finger through the air. “Even a stranger would be able to see the way you look at her. I’ve known you your whole life. I wiped your butt when you were a baby.”

  I made a face. “Why do you always have to remind me of that?”

  “I was a six-year-old changing diapers. I did you a huge favor. The least you can allow me is some good-natured ribbing.”

  Shaking my head, I huffed out a laugh. The waitress came over and I put in an order for the biggest coffee they had and the pancake breakfast platter. An Elvis song played through the overhead speakers.

  “How did Cindy do on her first night?” I asked, veering away from the topic of Estelle.

  Nikki’s blue eyes went soft. “The first couple hours she hid under the bed, but after she got comfortable, she spent the night curled up with Lizzie. They’ve been inseparable.”

  “That’s what I was hoping for.”

  “You were right. I think they need each other.”

  Cupping my ear, I leaned closer. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  “I said you were right.” She laughed. Then her face got serious as she played with the corner of her napkin. “I take it you probably haven’t had time to visit Dad yet?”

  I shook my head. “No, but I’m going later today. How’s he doing?”

  She shrugged. “The same. Good days and bad days. On Saturday, he knew who I was,” she said, smiling. “It was really nice.”

  I smiled back because I knew how great that felt. “And they’re treating him well?”

  The question wasn’t necessary, because I already knew the answer; the place was the lap of luxury. Windsor Lakes Retirement Home
was the best assisted living facility in the area.

  But that wasn’t where Dad started out. Before becoming a resident there, he’d spent one month at a state funded nursing home where he shared a room with two other patients, the food was shit, and they were constantly short-staffed.

  He might not have known what was going on all the time, but I could tell he was miserable. I couldn’t leave him there.

  “They always treat him well.” Nikki frowned as she peered at me over the rim of her coffee cup. “You were right about Windsor Lakes too. I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for him.”

  I frowned back. “You don’t have to repay me. We’re both his kids. We’re in this together.”

  “When Mom died, and with Dad’s medical condition, you were practically an orphan—”

  “I was eighteen,” I cut in. “Legally an adult.”

  “Bullshit, Emery. You were still in high school. When I was eighteen, I thought I knew everything there was to know about the world, but I was wrong. Hell, I’m thirty and I still don’t know shit.”

  I sighed. Not this again. Same argument, different day. “We can’t go back and change anything now, and I don’t want to.”

  “I know, but you gave up everything to take care of him.”

  “And it all worked out, didn’t it?”

  Glancing down at her lap, her voice came out quiet. “But at what cost, Emery?”

  “He’s my dad, Nik. I couldn’t let him rot in that nursing home.”

  “If I could’ve done more to help—”

  “You would’ve done it in a heartbeat. I know that,” I told her. “But there wasn’t much you could do. Not on a teacher’s salary and with a family to support.”

  “It shouldn’t have fallen on you,” she whispered, her guilt transparent. “It’s just so unfair.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. Nothing about Alzheimer’s was fair, but we were more fortunate than some. At least I was able to give my dad the best life possible, even if it meant sacrificing my dreams.

  “Sometimes plans change, and things are pretty good for me now,” I said, because I had money and a job I enjoyed.

  And maybe—just maybe—I had a fun, crazy, beautiful woman, even if it was temporary.

  CHAPTER 11

  EMERY

  I spent the rest of the day networking and trying not to think about Estelle’s pussy. And no, I didn’t mean her cats.

  I contacted a few local shelters and vet clinics to let them know about our project and the urgent need to find homes for the cats. Most of them were more than willing to help.

  When I called Remington Animal Medical Center, Christine answered the phone. We chatted for a good twenty minutes, catching up and talking about old times.

  Then she told me something that could be a game changer for Estelle; more specifically, for Peter.

  Apparently Twinkle Star Snowy Nose Tickle Toes (AKA Arnold) had been hit by a car six months prior and his injuries were too severe for him to pull through. Marty Miller was devastated.

  But…

  He was open to adopting another cat.

  And who loved asshole cats? Marty Miller.

  It was late afternoon by the time I made it to Windsor Lakes. The winding driveway was meticulously landscaped on both sides, and a big fountain sat out front by the parking lot. Behind the brick building there were gardens, a courtyard, and two large ponds.

  There were reasons why it was so expensive.

  It was nicer than any place I’d ever lived, and that included my fancy-ass condo. Whoever designed it had purposely made it feel more like an all-inclusive resort instead of a medical facility.

  Complete with a barber shop, a library, and an eating area that was more like a nice restaurant than a cafeteria, most of the residents didn’t even have to leave. The lounge was cozy, with leather couches, a flat screen TV, and a billiards table. There was even an onsite gym with physical therapists who created individualized workout plans for the residents.

  All the staff members were medically trained, and because they were paid so well, the turnover rate was extremely low.

  But the best part? Every patient had their own living quarters, with their own bedroom and bathroom. There was something to be said about having your own space with your own personal belongings—it made people feel normal and in control.

  Automatic sliding glass doors welcomed me into the entryway. The floors were paved with dark laminate flooring, the walls a soft beige. Framed prints of famous art lined the hall.

  The receptionist flagged me down as I walked past the front desk. “Hey, Emery. Long time, no see. I’m glad you stopped in. I think one of the nurses would like to talk to you.”

  I nodded. “Who’s on duty today?”

  “Gretchen,” she replied before getting up to find her.

  A minute later, Gretchen came around the corner in her usual uniform of jeans and a cartoon-covered lab coat. It was unconventional, but most of the staff wore casual outfits to make the patients feel more at ease. Her salt and pepper hair was tied in a neat bun, and she smiled when she saw me.

  Gretchen was the best nurse at Windsor Lakes. She’d been here long before my dad became a patient. She was the one to show me around the first day I checked out the place, and ultimately, the one who convinced me it was the right fit for my dad.

  “It’s been a while,” she said. “How are you?”

  “Busy, but good,” I replied. I didn’t waste any time getting to the issue. “What did you want to talk to me about? Is my dad doing okay?”

  “Oh, he’s fine.” She lifted a bowl in her hands. “I couldn’t get him to eat his tapioca this afternoon. Thought maybe you could give it a try. He always does so much better for you and Nikki. It has his medication in there because he was having trouble swallowing the pill.”

  Taking it from her hands, I nodded. “I’d be happy to try.”

  “You’re such a good boy,” she praised as if I was still that scared kid she’d met six years ago. “You’ll find him watching the ball game.”

  “Wait.” I stopped her before she could walk away. “Nikki said Dad’s on some new meds. What’s that for?”

  “Arthritis pain, mostly in his hands,” she replied before giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “He’s doing okay, Emery. Try not to worry so much. Oh, and I can’t wait for the next season of your show,” she whispered. “You’ve even got my husband hooked.”

  All the staff knew who I was and what I did for a living, but I was grateful that they were discreet about it. Confidentiality was important here. They didn’t blab to people outside of work about my occupation or that my father was a patient.

  “Thanks.” I smiled. “Tell your husband I appreciate the male fans, too.”

  Stirring the creamy contents of the bowl, I headed for the lounge.

  I spotted his blue ballcap first. Dad was sitting on the brown leather couch in front of the TV, tapping his knee like he was listening to a song I couldn’t hear.

  Taking a deep breath, I sat next to him. Then I waited—for acknowledgement, for recognition, for some glimpse of the man I used to know.

  The tapping slowed. His brown eyes slowly turned to mine, and he smiled. “How’s it going, son?”

  I let go of the breath I was holding and grinned.

  It was a good day.

  “I’m great, Pops.”

  “That’s what I like to hear. How’s work? You know the nurses in this place watch your show all the time. They can’t believe you’re my boy.” He chuckled. “Sometimes I think they give me extra pudding, hoping I’ll get them a date with you or something.”

  Snickering, I raised the bowl. “Speaking of pudding, how about eating some of this?”

  Seeming agreeable to the suggestion, he reached for the spoon but his hand shook so badly that he couldn’t get a good grasp on it.

  “I can do it,” I said, picking up the spoon. “Here, like this.”

  I fed him a bite, and h
e made a sound like it was good. I gave him another. We went on like that until I was scraping the bottom of the bowl.

  “Last one,” I told him.

  After he was done, I handed him a napkin and he wiped at his trembling lips.

  It was painful, seeing someone you love in this condition. Seeing them helpless and dependent. Never knowing if they would recognize you.

  When I was a kid, Robert Matheson had seemed like an indestructible giant, but now I was two inches taller than his six feet.

  He’d aged quite a bit in the last few years, but on the outside, he looked mostly the same. Khaki pants. Reebok tennis shoes. The hat he’d worn for as long as I could remember.

  On his bad days, I felt like I was trapped on the other side of a two-way mirror; I could see him, but he couldn’t see me. And I could bang on that glass and yell as loud as I wanted to, but he’d never hear me.

  I missed him so much. Even at almost twenty-five, sometimes I just needed my dad.

  “So,” he started, “tell me something great.”

  Tell me something great.

  I loved it when he said that. Because that was the dad I used to know. It was what he’d said to me after the first day of kindergarten, after my SAT test, and after Mom died.

  And the day after we moved him here, I’d tried so hard not to get choked up as I sat on this couch and answered him. I’d told him I was going to make sure he was taken care of—that was the only good news I had for him at the time.

  Scratching my jaw, I wondered if I should tell him about Estelle. It’d been a long time since I talked about women with my dad, and I didn’t want to confuse him.

  Fuck it. He was himself, and I had no idea when another opportunity like this would come up.

  “There’s this woman I met on the job I’m working on right now. I like her.” I paused, trying to think of how I could describe Estelle. “She’s kinda crazy, in a good way.”

  Laughing, Dad slapped his knee. “That’s the best kind. The very best. What does she do?”

  “She owns a costume shop.”

  “An entrepreneur. Impressive.”