by Lila Younger
Then the recession hit, and things started going downhill again. My parents bought it for really cheap, just as things started to turn around. Business as far as I can tell has been steadily rising, so it does make sense in a way to start updating the rest of the house. It’s a mish mash of a bunch of different design styles, none of them coherent or true to the house. The idea of bringing it back to its time period is something that my mom and I both love, but we just never knew how or where to start.
Once I’ve showered and changed (and okay, put on a little bit of makeup), I head up to the third floor. I am glad we’re fixing up these rooms. I always felt bad when I had to put a guest in one of them during the summer. It gets really hot, especially in the rooms where the roof slopes down. I find my mom in the first room, pushing a dresser towards the center of the room.
“Hey mom,” I say, coming in and helping her drape plastic over the furniture. “You’ve got a lot done already huh?”
“I’m going to need your help for the bed here,” she replies, gesturing at the old canopy bed. “Although we might need to wait for James. I wish your dad could be here to help too.”
Dad works as a park ranger for the National Park just outside of town. During the summer, we get lots of families who like to visit.
“Well, if the business does pick up like dad and James are talking about, then maybe he could quit and help out here too,” I say.
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” my mom says. “It would make it all worth it wouldn’t it?”
I go to one side of the bed and my mom moves to the other. It’s solid wood, and old, so it takes us a bit, but we finally manage to pull it out enough that we can wedge ourselves behind the headboard and push the bed to the center of the room.
“You know, if business does improve, we’d be able to pay for you to go to university too,” my mom says casually. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
I stiffen. I can’t help it. We’ve gone through this argument multiple times, and it never ends well. I feel her eyes on me, waiting for an answer.
“You know how I feel. I want to stay here,” I say firmly, hoping that she’ll take the hint. But of course she keeps pushing.
“We could use someone who’s got a business degree to help us run things.”
That’s a new tactic, I think. At least one part of what I’m saying is starting to seep into her brain.
“Why don’t you go and get a degree yourself then mom?”
“Oh honey, I would, but it wouldn’t do any good for someone as old as I am,” my mom says with a weary shake of her head. “You would get much more use out of it. I think you’ll find that not having a degree can make life more difficult than it needs to be for yourself.”
“But you did just fine without a degree,” I say stubbornly. Why can’t she just listen for once? I don’t think what I’m saying is all that confusing, but you’d think I’m speaking a different language. “And I think you’ve had a great life.”
“I married your father when I was eighteen, had a kid not long after that. Don’t get me wrong, it is a good life, but I missed out on things. Things I don’t want you to miss out on.”
“So you’re just trying to live vicariously through me. That’s really great mom,” I say sarcastically. I look up and see the fury on her face.
“You know what-”
My mom’s phone rings, interrupting what she’s about to say. Probably for the best, because I’m in no mood to hold back. I’ve tried to explain so many times, but no matter what I say, it seems like what I want means nothing to her.
“Hello?” she says, giving me a look that clearly says she’s not finished with me yet. “Gary? Again? Okay.”
She hangs up.
“Your brother’s skipped school again. I’m going to go find him. We’ll pick up this conversation later,” she says as she heads toward the door.
“Or not. You already know how I feel. That’s not going to change,” I holler after her. “No matter what!”
I turn back towards the room, feeling angry and unsatisfied. I don’t even want to cover up the rest of the furniture. Not when half the stuff is too heavy for me to move alone. I plop down on the canopy bed, staring at the intricate embroidery work. I love Selkirk House, maybe even more than my mom does. She likes meeting the travelers, listening to their stories. Me, I love the house itself. Telling people about its history, showing people its secrets, preserving the atmosphere of a different time. It was me that dug up old pictures of the place at the local library to show how the rooms used to be, what sort of furniture we should buy for the main rooms that would be authentic to the times.
“Hey, I couldn’t help but overhear. Is everything okay?”
I sit bolt upright. James! I’m embarrassed that he sees me like this, lazing around instead of doing work.
“It’s fine,” I say, scrambling to get off the bed. “Just an argument.”
“Over what?”
He crosses his arms, leaning against the doorway. He’s got his sleeves rolled up for work, and it stirs something inside of me. Of course he was up here working too. We’re all alone up here, I realize. I’m on a bed. My mind jumps into the gutter before I can stop it. Quickly I get off and fiddle with the plastic sheeting, hoping he didn’t pick up on what I’m thinking. I can feel his gaze lingering on me.
“She doesn’t want me here,” I say at last. “She thinks I should go to college.”
I hear him walk a few steps into the room. The next thing I know his strong hands are taking the plastic, pulling it over the large bed with ease.
“And I take it you don’t want to go.”
“No, not at all. I like working here at the B and B. There’s something so wonderful about this place,” I say, gesturing to the room around us. “Even if it is run down.”
“It won’t be once I’m finished. It’ll be restored back to its glory. I’m actually excited. I don’t often get to work with a house like this in my line of work. We update houses of course, but feels more meaningful.”
“I think it’s wonderful,” I say softly. “All this history, all the stories in these walls. I’m glad we’re not going to destroy it.”
He heads toward the old wingback chairs by the windows, and I hurry to help get the other one. We place them side by side in the middle. I look up at him, and words leave me. I don’t think I’ve ever been this close to James. I must not have, because I would remember those eyes if I did. Like warm chocolate, with mesmerizing amber flecks. I could just look at them forever. He leans in for just a second, and the smell of him fills my lungs, woodsy and dark, with an undertone of clean sweat from the hard work he’s been doing all morning. I feel a pull in my chest towards him.
Silence falls between us, but he doesn’t look away. Instead, he leans even closer. His hand cups my face. It’s rough and calloused, I notice for some reason. From a hardworking man. One who doesn’t just give orders, but actually does the work too. I wish I could understand what he’s thinking, but his eyes have darkened somehow. His thumb strokes my cheek, a touch more intimate than anything I’ve ever experienced. I can’t think straight, every part of me zeroed in the point where we’re touching. My breath hitches, my nipples hardening in response to his presence. My knees are quivering, and I clutch onto the back of the chair to keep myself upright.
“Ava,” he says, his voice husky and low.
My mind flashes back to the way he looked at me in the car, his eyes taking in my body in that stupid dress Macy made me wear. Did he like the way my breasts spilled out? Did he enjoy looking at my legs? I thought he didn’t because he was so angry, but now, with the way he’s looking at me, I can’t be so sure. Could he… could he want me too, as much as I want him? My whole face is warming up at the idea.
His hand tightens on me, and my whole body coils up, anticipating what’s to happen. My lips part, and I see the way his pupils dilate open. I don’t know what’s going on, only that I want it go continue on. I want to touch him too, I wa
nt to pull him to me, but I’m too afraid. I don’t know what to do with a boy, much less a man.
As if sensing how nervous I am, James gives me a tiny smile, before leaning in and kissing me. I stiffen up, afraid to even breathe, but the kiss is so gentle, so tender, that I start melting in his grip. He breaks the kiss for a moment, only to kiss me again, firmer this time, and it’s like my body wakes up at last. My hand goes to his shoulder, steadying myself against him. Soft cotton over hard muscle. James definitely worked out.
When he kisses me again, I respond this time, pushing back gently, getting lost in the feel of our lips against each other, the roughness of his stubble, the warmth of his tongue as it sweeps past my lips and tangles with mine. His arms wrap around me, pulling me closer to his body in a possessive way that made me ache between my legs. Sensations are lighting up all over me as my brain tries to process the fact that we’re pressed together, that this is happening at all. James is my first kiss, but even with nothing to compare to, I know that this is amazing. That this is worth all the waiting.
James’ kisses grow fiercer, rougher as he tries to keep me pressed to him, and I surrender to his lead. His hands glide down my waist, over my ass, lifting me up high until my legs lock around his waist. He takes two steps to the left, pushing me back against the wall. I can feel something hard and hot press against my cleft. Is that his cock? Surprise and panic cuts through the delicious sensation of having him grinding against me. It’s huge. His eyes are dark with desire, looking at me like a thirsty man in a desert.
His kisses trail down to my neck, and I can’t help but moan his name softly. I thread my hands through his dark hair, all my nervousness forgotten. Whatever he’s doing with his lips, it feels heavenly. Tendrils of pleasure spread wherever he touches me, and my nipples stiffen into peaks. His hands find them, pushing my breast above the bra cups. His powerful hands knead and massage my breasts, pinching and rolling the tips. It feels deliriously good, like nothing I’ve ever done to myself. I moan his name, begging him for what, I don’t know, only that I want to be touched, everywhere. I rock against his cock, forgetting everything as I let lust take over. Is it possible to come just like this? I don’t know, but it feels so damn good, I feel myself hovering on the brink, and maybe I just need a little more pressure-
“YOU’RE THE WORST MOM EVER!”
The voice cuts through our moment, and James and I immediately freeze up. Is that… Gary’s voice I hear through the window?
“Gary, get back here,” my mom’s furious voice cuts through. “I’m not finished talking to you.”
I hear the loud slam of a car door. My mom’s is definitely back!
“I have to go,” James murmurs, setting me back down. “But I’m not done with you Ava.”
Our moment slips through my fingers like sand. I wish it could have lasted just a little longer. But I know what it would mean if we’re caught together like this, so I nod reluctantly and let go of his shoulders. James moves across the room in quick strides, pauses at the doorway for a moment, and leaves.
James
The last thing I want to do is leave Ava in the room all by herself, but I know it would be worse to stay. I shouldn’t have gone in there in the first place, but Ava sounded upset, and I thought maybe I could talk to her again like I used to, as a mentor or something. Not that that lasted long. I couldn’t keep my fucking hands to myself, like some hormonal teenager. I expect better out of myself but I was too weak. There’s something wrong with me. Even now, my cock’s straining against my jeans, desperate to rub right up against her pussy again. I could feel how hot she was, even with the layers between us.
And the way she looked up at me, holding onto me tightly, all sweet and innocent like. Stop it. James you lecher, I think savagely. Ava’s never even kissed before. I could tell, by how nervous she was, by the hesitant way she explored me with her hands. Untouched by any other man. Damnit. That only made me want her more, even though I know that makes things complicated as hell. I’m not going to get rid of my erection like this, and the last thing I need is for Sandra to come storming up here and see. With a cock like mine, it’s impossible not to notice.
I jog down the stairs and back to my room. I’m so impatient that I almost drop my key as I try and unlock the door. There’s only one thing to do. I feel guilt, but not enough to stop myself from lying on my bed and unzipping my pants. I can still smell her on me, the light floral smell that I’ve never been able to find anywhere but from Ava. Her breathy little moans echo in my ear, the way she said my name, aching with need. I want to have her soft body under mine, her hair fanning against the bedspread, her moans muffled against the sheets as I drive myself into her tight, little pussy. Lifting her up, angling her so I can get even deeper. Taking her for myself.
My hands work the whole length of my cock, squeezing tightly as I slide over the thick head. I’m getting even harder if that’s possible, now that I’ve finally got a taste.
“Ava,” I groan softly to myself.
I can still feel her silky hair through my fingers, and I imagine myself pulling on it just enough to tilt her head back, let my lips press against the side of her neck. Before I had to fill in the blanks, but now I’ve felt her for myself. I know the shape of her curves, I’ve memorized the touch of her skin. I love the way her breath hitches when I kiss her, the perfect way I fit between her legs.
In my mind I fuck her again, hard sharp thrusts as her walls constrict around me. My shaft throbs almost painfully as I quicken my speed. I think about the way her body collides against mine, as if she was trying to press every bit of herself against me. I think about how easy it could have been to throw her on the bed, slip into her slick channel, and take what’s mine once and for all. To feel her stretched tight around my cock, drawing me deeper into her until I come deep inside her body. I tighten my fist even more, my strokes slowing down as my balls tighten and release, sending spurts of come on myself. What a fucking mess, I think.
I sit up and strip off my clothes, then head into the tiny shower. I think it used to be a closet before the previous owners turned it into a bathroom. I turn on the cold water, letting it hit my lean body, shocking me out of my traitorous thoughts, or so I hope. Only the feelings I have aren’t so easily washed away. Already I’m thinking about Ava again.
“It was just a kiss. A harmless kiss,” I whisper, my voice lost under the roar of water.
And it can stay that way, as long as I keep my mitts off her. There’ll be a day or two of awkwardness, and then we can put it behind us, go back to the way things were. Whatever things were. Or maybe we could keep this a secret somehow, maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible to steal a kiss here and there…
“And if Bill catches us?”
It’s not like Selkirk House is that big of a place. Sure it’s got three floors, but Ava works here full time, and so will I. Her parents will put two and two together if we both disappear. But maybe that would be better, to finally have it out in the open, because I sure as hell haven’t gotten over her, not even after I moved so far away. Maybe that’s the only way I’ll stop, if everything around us is destroyed, if it comes out in the open at last. But I couldn’t do that to my best friend.
Besides, Ava is young, too young for me. She’s inexperienced, and she probably doesn’t know what the fuck she wants. For all I know she enjoyed the arousal, the kiss, more than who it was she was doing it with. It’s easy to get them all mixed up at first. For all I know, she’s already regretting what happened between us.
When I finally feel the last of my desire die down, I turn off the water. I dry off with a towel from the bathroom and throw my clothes back on. Then I run the tap, splashing cold water onto my face. I can think clearer now at least, as shameful as it is. My stomach rumbles from hunger. Breakfast seems like an eternity ago. A drive into town for lunch sounds like a good idea to me. I grab my keys and leave my room.
At the staircase, I bump into Sandra. The guilt inside me multiples a
s I think about what I was thinking about her daughter in my room just minutes ago. Good thing she’s too distracted to notice anything.
“You’re headed out?” she asks.
“Just for lunch. I saw a sign coming in about a seafood restaurant on the beach and got a craving for crab cakes. I figured you’d be busy and I didn’t want to trouble you to make me anything. What happened to Gary?” I ask. “I thought I heard him yelling.”
She throws her hands up.
“I don’t know what’s going on with him,” she says. “He’s always been a good student, but since he’s fallen in with the McKinley boy, he’s been nothing from trouble. If you told me six months ago that my son would be skipping class, I’d have laughed in your face. Now, I don’t know. I thought I’d only have to deal with one problem at a time, what with Ava refusing to go to college, but that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? Anyways, I don’t want to bore you to death with my troubles. I’ll see you later in the afternoon.”
“Sounds good to me. Once you and Ava have everything covered up, I can begin taking down the walls and seeing what we have behind them. Hopefully there isn’t anything like mold, or bad electrical to worry about.” Sandra gives me a worried look. “Don’t worry. It’s not uncommon in these old homes, so Bill and I already planned for that contingency.”
I start to go and she puts out a hand to stop me.
“James. I want to say thank you for helping my family,” Sandra says softly. “Bill doesn’t like to worry me, but I’ve noticed that he hasn’t been sleeping very well lately. But now that you’re here, he’s much more relaxed. And so am I. My family is in good hands.”
I return her smile, but drop it as soon as she turns to head back upstairs. What would Sandra say if she knew the truth about how I felt about her daughter? About the fantasies I have, still have, about pulling her into one of the unused bedrooms? I leave the B and B, get into my car, and pound the wheel in frustration. I couldn’t even last 24 hours before touching Ava. How the hell am I going to stay here for three weeks? This was a bad idea all around. But Bill needed me here. The scope of the project he wants to do is huge, especially for someone who’s never done a renovation. He saved my life so many years ago. Without him, I would have ended up on the street, broken, maybe even dead by now. He needs me, and I’m going to be there for him. I just hope I can fucking remember that the next time I see Ava.
