by Penny Wylder
And I will not choose this.
I walk away. I just turn and start walking.
My father calls after me. “Vera, come back here please.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I’m done.” I keep walking.
“Vera,” he says, warning in his tone. “We talked about this.”
I turn around and look him straight in the eye, defiantly. “No. You talked and you didn’t listen. I’m done. I’m not doing this.”
He stalks toward me, lowering his voice. “You live in my house.”
I laugh. “That’s your threat? I don’t need your house.”
“If you walk away from this, don’t bother coming home.”
Those words settle in my gut with a heavy finality, but also a relief. I feel like I always knew this moment would come. I just didn’t know what I would choose. I do now.
“Okay. I’m sorry, Dad. But I need to do this my way.”
I don’t look back, and on the way toward the road I call another cab.
I go straight to the construction site, and I feel light as air. I have nothing. And it’s totally fine. I know that I’m going to be okay. Because even though I’m scared, I know that I have somewhere to go.
I pay the cab driver and go into the house, listening for the telltale sounds of a power drill or hammering. There’s nothing though. I walk my way through but there’s still nothing. No one is here, and my heart sinks. I was sure that this is where he would be. He’s not working at my house anymore. Did he have another contract? I don’t know. I didn’t ask.
I don’t even have his phone number because our relationship was a secret at first, and then we were together so much we never even asked. Even if I did have his number, though, I know that this cannot be fixed with a phone call. I sit down on the steps outside the house. It’s early, maybe he just hasn’t gotten here. After an hour of waiting, my anxiety rises. After two, I know that I can’t stay anymore.
Where would he go? I don’t know his favorite places. I don’t know where he goes when he wants to be alone. I don’t know where he goes when he’s blowing off work. But I have an idea. I do a quick internet search for our caretaker company and give them a call. It’s not hard to get them to give me Mike’s phone number when I tell them who I am, and in just a few minutes his line is ringing.
“Mike Willis,” he answers.
“Hey, Mike. This is Vera Caldwell.”
There’s clear surprise in his voice. “Hi, Ms. Caldwell.”
“Please call me Vera,” I say.
“Sure.”
“I was actually wondering if you had heard from James today?”
“Yeah, earlier this morning,” he says. “He told me not to bother going to the Masterson house today, said he was taking the day off. Is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I say, far too enthusiastically. “We just never exchanged phone numbers. You know how we met—well. I’d like to give him a call. We…had a little disagreement this morning and I want to apologize.” That’s minimizing it, but I don’t really feel like baring my soul to Mike.
“Sure thing,” he says, giving me James’s number.
“Did he say where he was going by any chance?”
“No, sorry,” Mike says. “Sometimes he goes to the beach. Surfing. Walking. Other than that though…”
“Thanks, Mike,” I say. “I hope I see you and your father soon.”
He laughs. “You too. Let me know if you need anything else.”
I can’t dial James’s number fast enough, and my heart plummets as it goes directly to voicemail. Shit. I can’t even ask him where he is. I call another cab. I search James’s address on the internet, pulling up a map to look for the beachfront closest to his house.
I walk up and down that stretch of shore for a long time, hoping to see him. But he’s not there. I try to let the ocean soothe me, the waves tickling my bare feet. Even that doesn’t calm the anxiety in my heart. I need to fix this. I need to tell him what I chose. The sun is beginning to sink in the sky when I make my way back to his house.
He’s not there, but I’m not leaving. This time, I will stay until he comes back. It’s his house, he can’t stay away forever.
I take off my shoes and curl my knees up to my chest. I keep my phone in my hand, hoping that maybe he’ll see a missed call on his phone and return it. It’s a long shot, but hope loves long shots. The time while I wait feels like an eternity. I know I should get up, maybe go someplace and eat something, but I’m too upset to feel hungry and I’m not going anywhere without talking to James.
It’s just getting dark when he pulls into the driveway. He sees me and stares. I see relief on his face, and worry. He gets out of the car and comes up the drive, but stops a few feet away from me, seeming unsure. He’s here. Finally. I can’t even describe the feeling that sinks into me, and what exactly it means. “Hi,” I say.
“Hi.”
I don’t get up yet. “I’m really sorry about this morning.”
“I’ve been driving around all day, kicking myself for the things I said. I’m sorry too.”
He comes to me and pulls me to my feet, pulls me into his arms and holds me.
“I told my dad off,” I say, and it is so freeing.
“What?”
I tell him what happened, and his smile gets bigger and bigger. By the time I finish, I’m trying to tell him through all of his kisses. “I’m so proud of you,” he says.
I laugh. “Thanks. Do you think…would it be crazy to ask if I can stay with you until I get things sorted out?”
“Vera, you can stay with me as long as you want. Forever, even.” He takes my face in his hands, and there’s no hint of a smirk or a joke. “I’m in love with you. Please stay. Stay with me.”
My breath catches and I know what I’m going to say next with the same certainty I knew how to choose today.
“I love you too.”
Epilogue
Vera
Six Months Later
Peru is beautiful in the morning. I look out my window at the mountain view and stretch. James is still asleep behind me, and I’m going to let him. He worked hard yesterday, and he worked me hard last night. He deserves his rest.
It’s our last day here, and I’m going to miss it. Hopefully we’ve done some good. With our crew we’ve built ten new homes for people in this rural area, and now we’re completely finished. Today we’ll meet with the local government to evaluate what we’ve done and make arrangements with them for future trips. I’m excited at the prospect of getting to talk to them about exactly what they want and need in terms of housing and infrastructure.
If we can make it happen, we’ll try. We’re not a full non-profit yet, this trip being funded by several charitable corporations including The Harrison Foundation. But I know James won’t let me rest until I finally start my own company. And I won’t let him rest until I’m sure he can do it with me.
I check my email on the phone, sketchy as the internet is here. I have an email from my bank, and…woah. That’s not what I was expecting. There’s a deposit for two million dollars into my account, with a personal message:
Sorry it took me this long.
Good luck.
Call me soon.
Love,
Mom.
I beam at my phone. Thanks, Mom. This money is coming at the perfect time. With it, James and I can come back here for another building trip. We can expand our original plans and the amount of houses we were going to build. The progress will still be slow, but it will be full of good help. Screw sleeping, I’m going to tell James.
When I turn and see him, he takes my breath away. The sheet is draped across his legs, and the rising sun is striking the muscles in his stomach. He is the world’s most perfect painting. Except for the enormous morning wood sticking up from beneath the sheets. I know his favorite way to wake up. I slide onto the bed and duck my head under the sheet, coming face to face with his cock.
I don’t think I’d ever considered a cock gorgeous before I met James, but it is.
I open my mouth and take him in, diving down to take him all the way into the back of my throat. He shifts on the bed and I know I’ve gotten his attention. I hold my mouth down on him as long as I can before coming up for a breath and teasing his tip with my tongue.
James groans, “You’re going to kill me, after last night.”
I lick along him, grazing him with my teeth just to feel him jump. “What?” I say in mock horror, “You’re not man enough to take me again?”
He starts to say something but I take him deep into my throat again and whatever he was going to say is lost in one long groan. He pulls me off his cock and flips me over, his eyes fiery and fully awake. “You question my manhood?” he says, matching my mocking tone. “If that’s the case, I think it’s time for something we’ve been saving. We’re in Peru. It’s time for firsts.”
I give him a look. “What are you talking about?” It’s hard to imagine there’s something he hasn’t done to me.
He leans down and takes a nipple in his mouth, playing with me before answering. “I’m going to fuck that sweet ass of yours.”
My pussy clenches. He’s been working up to that for a long time, and I can’t say that I’m not ready—I am—I’m just nervous. My mouth is suddenly dry. “Okay.”
He leaves the bed, digging in his bag. Then he pulls out a bottle of lube and tosses it over to me.
I tell him, “You knew you were going to try to get me to do this.”
The only response I get is his slow smile. He gets back in bed, turns me on my side, and lies behind me. I can hear him stroking his cock with the lube and I shudder in anticipation. Then I feel his fingers probing, pushing into me. My body heats in response. I know this feeling, I know the kind of orgasms he can give me from here, but his cock…it’s so much larger. His fingers disappear and I feel that same cock against my ass. God it feels even bigger than when it’s in my pussy.
James reaches around and starts to play with my clit, teasing me and warming me up as he works into my ass. I’m gasping as he pushes in, and I’ve never felt this full. He goes slowly, but he doesn’t stop. It seems to last forever and I feel him in such a different way and it hits different nerves. I already feel one of those deep orgasms coming on, and he circles my clit suddenly, so fiercely that I come unexpectedly in a hot rush.
It’s fast and bright and I cry out as he pushes the rest of the way into me. He toys with my pussy, drawing my orgasm out from my body, as everything comes down from the overload and adjusts to the feeling of him in my ass.
Just when I think I’ve adjusted, he moves his hips, and I curse. He’s so far in me and it feels amazing and I can’t believe he’s all the way inside. His lips are on my neck and his hand drifts up to my breasts, tweaking my nipples before returning to my pussy. He starts to rock, and I know that I’m going to come again. On instinct, I squeeze my ass around him and he growls in my ear, rocking faster. He slips his fingers inside my pussy and I see stars. I love this feeling of being fucked in both places, and he knows that, and it’s so much better now.
I can’t breathe, I’m moaning so much, I can’t stop. Every thrust into my ass sets off a lightning burst of pleasure behind my eyes and he finger fucks my pussy relentlessly, driving me to the edge and over. I am not prepared. The world goes a blinding shade of white and I scream James’s name. Everything in me contracts, and I hear him cry out. The pleasure comes in waves that wreck my body—I’ve never had an orgasm like this—and dark spots form in front of my eyes as another orgasm hits on the heels of the first. My entire body goes limp and I am at the mercy of this pleasure. I can’t move, I can’t see. I can only feel.
James is still in my ass and I feel him come, warming me from the inside. When he slips out I feel the loss. I’m still in free fall, my body oversensitive and tingling. He turns me over toward him, and he’s smiling. “I think that was worth the wait.”
“We will be doing that again.” I let him kiss me, still unable to move properly.
I close my eyes, my body pulling me towards delicious sleep.
“If you’re going to sleep, I suppose that means I earned my manhood again.”
I smile, “We’ll see how I feel when I wake up.” His cock stirs between us, and I laugh. I tell him, “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He rolls away from me and I hear him digging in his bag, but I’m already halfway gone. It’s only when I feel him tug at my left hand that I manage to open them. I catch him just as he slips the ring onto my finger. “James,” I say, “What are you doing?”
His face is chagrined. “I should have waited longer. I was hoping you’d wake up and see it.”
“Are you serious?”
He rolls over me, kissing me so deeply that it lights that fire in my belly. “I couldn’t be more serious.”
“You have to say it.”
He pulls back from me, kneeling on the bed. Totally naked and glorious. “Vera Caldwell, will you marry me?”
I bite my lip to keep the smile on my face from growing out of control. I didn’t think anyone could ever be this happy. It fills me up to bursting with joy and light. “Yes.”
His smile matches mine and he’s kissing me again, tangling us in the sheets.
Sleep is out of the question.
THE END
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Chapter 1
Consoling my best friend Stephanie has turned into a fulltime job. I feel for her, I do. It must suck to have every single boyfriend she’s ever had cheat on her. But when you’re only attracted to the bad boys, what do you expect? They don’t get those bad reputations by handing out flowers and writing love letters with words that make Hallmark cards seem like scribblings on the stalls of men’s bathrooms.
Stephanie and I go back and forth instant messaging each other. It’s been almost a month since the “incident” with her ex and yet it’s still all she talks about. I guess I’d feel the same way if I were her, but I’ve never stuck around relationships long enough to be cheated on. I’ve never connected with someone enough to care about what they do when I’m not around.
While she vents, I check out the latest Twitter gossip. There’s always someone saying the wrong thing while the internet crouches down like some creep in a back alley waiting to pounce. Sometimes it’s better than reality TV.
Stephanie: Why are guys such dicks?
Me: You’re asking the wrong person.
I switch over to Twitter again. Some D-list celebrity has finally made it back into the spotlight over some sexist remark and now suddenly, everyone is going insane. I’m glad nothing I post is worth talking about. Despite my five thousand followers, I doubt anyone would notice me even if I said something rude and offensive. Most people just follow me so I’ll follow them back, or because we live in the same town. It’s all so pointless, and damn entertaining at the same time.
Stephanie: Whats so wrong with me that all those fucker’s feel the need to be with someone else WHILE their still with me.
Her grammar is atrocious.
Me: There’s nothing wrong with you. You are amazing, and you can do so much better.
Stephanie: I’ll never find another guy like him again.
Dramatic as ever.
I roll my eyes. Me: Sure you will. If you sit in front of the jail long enough, the next love of your life will walk out of those doors any minute now.
Stephanie: Your not funny.
I smile at the bright screen.
Me: *you’re*.
Stephanie: I hate you.
I check out Twitter again. Things have quieted down for the most part, but I leave it open so I can check
in from time to time.
Stephanie: I’m going to send you a picture.
Me: Of what?
Stephanie: My burning rash. Tell me if it looks infected.
Oh god. She’s my best friend and I love her to pieces, but sometimes I think we’ve grown too close.
I start to type back, begging her not to, but realize I was starting to reply in my Twitter-feed instead. I delete it and switch back to Instant Messenger. She already sent the photo. It pops up on my screen and I breathe a sigh of relief. The title says Infection, but it’s a picture of her ex and his new girlfriend.
Stephanie’s boyfriend isn’t great-looking, but he has a nice body and never seems to have trouble with the ladies. Stephanie thinks he looks like Ryan Gosling. Maybe if you squint hard enough and put a picture of Ryan Gosling in front of his face there might be some resemblance. The new girlfriend, on the other hand, is stunning. Long blond hair, perfect boobs, shapely legs in a short skirt. Of course I don’t tell Stephanie that.
Me: She’s gangrene.
Because that’s what good friends do.
Stephanie: I’m mostly pissed about the sex though. He was AMAZING in the sack. It was like NASCAR up in our bed. Zero to Fuck Yea! in five minutes flat.
I cringe while picturing his face in the throes of an orgasm, those bulging eyes, balmy skin no matter the weather.
Me: You’re lucky.
Stephanie: How so?
I can’t believe I’m about to admit this to the person with the biggest mouth, but maybe it will make her feel better.
Me: What I’m about to tell you better never fucking leave this space.
Stephanie: And you’re the one always calling me overly dramatic.
Me: I’m serious. If you don’t make me a promise, I won’t tell you.
Stephanie: Fine. I promise.
Pop-up ads fill my screen, slowing down my computer. I click out of them before I reply.
Me: I’ve never actually had a guy give me an orgasm before.
