by Max Henry
Always, baby. The frustration at holding back, at not taking things too far, too fast, burns at times. But when she looks at me with heavy-lidded eyes, her cheeks flushed rose pink… no need to rush a good thing.
I shuffle my knees along the bed, still plying her pussy with my fingers as I position myself so I’m in reach. Her fingers grip the base of my shaft as I kneel beside her head and she gives me one hard tug before twisting herself to the side so that her mouth can reach my cock. Her hair spills around her shoulders as she rolls to take me deep, my dick grazing the back of her throat. Belle gives a slight gag, the reaction seeming to surprise her before she takes a breath and attempts to deep throat me again.
Got to love a trier.
“Relax, baby,” I instruct. “Stop thinking about not gagging, and open your throat.” I slide my hand from her cunt as she slows her pace, and lick my fingers while she bobs and ducks in my lap.
Beautiful.
Belle soon finds her rhythm, pushing deeper and deeper on each take. The head of my cock presses against her throat, the muscles tight around the tip before she slides me out again. It’s too much, too perfect.
“Jesus, dove,” I groan. “Keep doing that, baby. Keep doing exactly that.”
I bury my fingers in her tight channel again and build to a punishing pace. She groans around my cock, squirming when I add my thumb to her clit. Her muscles spasm, and then clamp down on my hand as she lets out a strangled moan around my dick. I pull free, respecting her choice, and twist my hips to pump out my release over her chest. Belle cries out with her own, her face and neck flushed, her hips digging down into the mattress as she clamps her thighs around my wrist.
I give my cock a final pump, the sight of my cum on her stirring something primal within me. I want to smear it over her skin and show her to the world like some fucking caveman; tell them all that she belongs to me.
That’d I’d kill the man who tries to take her from me.
“Stay there.” I run my fingers across her jaw. “I’ll get something to clean you up.”
She smiles up at me, her cheeks still pink, and her eyes shiny with happiness. God, I love this girl.
Love her so much that I’d risk losing my best friend for a chance at forever with her.
If only I could have it all.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Belle
Yet another rejection. I toss my phone to the side after disconnecting from my voicemail. What the hell is it about me that makes people so wary to hire me? What irks more is when the damn people have the audacity to tell me I “don’t have enough experience.”
What the hell? How on earth is an eighteen-year-old supposed to get experience if nobody will hire them? I want a job to get my freedom. I need money to pay for a car, or to save for a trip overseas. I need money if I hope to ever start my own tattoo business and live with Zeus.
My chest tightens at the thought of him; two days have passed since he dropped me home. Two days with him busy working and setting up his house, and me stuck here without an excuse to get away to see him.
Fuck him living too far away to walk. Fuck Cerise for being unemployed as well and never giving me a break.
She’s there when I get up, watching me from the back porch while she smokes her cigarette and has her coffee. There during the day no matter what I do—she’s always two steps behind me, lurking in the shadows. I mean, damn, I took the trash out yesterday and turned back for the house to find her standing in the middle of the backyard pretending to be admiring the flowers.
She hates flowers.
I might not remember a lot from when I was young, but I’ll never forget her taking the bouquet Dad bought her when I was little and throwing it in the kitchen sink for him to “sort out later.”
“Problem?” She nods to where I tossed my phone, a wine in her hand.
It’s half nine in the morning.
“Dad still in bed?” He sleeps in later and later these days; the night shift wreaks havoc on his body clock.
“Yeah.” Cerise drifts into the room, stopping to rest a hip against the armchair. “I’m having friends over tonight.”
“That so?” I collect my phone, ready to leave when she stalls me with her calculated response.
“I haven’t seen Jodie in years, so I figured I might as well ask Zeus too, you know, for old times’ sake.” She smirks when I meet her eye. “Get the old gang back together.”
“That ship has sailed, Cerise.”
“Oh I don’t know.” She pauses to take a drink. “Everybody hits a rough patch sometimes. Look at your father and me. True love never dies.”
The words sit on the tip of my tongue: he doesn’t love you. Dad’s lonely, that’s all. Lonely and desperate.
Zeus… well, what could I say about that? Does he still love Jodie at all? He was hurt when he found out what she did. And really, they only split up a few months ago, right before he… fuck. Am I a rebound?
“What do you plan to make for dinner?” I bury the thought and focus on acting indifferent.
“A barbecue is easy.” She takes another swig. “You can organize that if I give you the money can’t you?”
“Sure. Can I borrow your car?” Kill two birds with one stone.
Her eyes narrow, but she nods. “Of course. Make a list and I’ll get you some cash.”
I crush my phone in my fist, eyes trained on my mother as she leaves the room via the kitchen, her empty glass clinking as she sets it on the counter. My fingers fly over the screen as soon as she’s out of sight.
B: What time are you coming over?
Zeus’s reply is instant.
Z: What for? Still trying to figure out how to get you here ;)
B: Cerise mentioned you and Jodie are coming over for a barbecue. I type out the words she thinks you two should get back together, and then delete them. No need to put the idea in his head.
Z: First I heard of it. Still… like I’d turn down the chance to see you.
B: I miss you.
Z: Miss you more, dove. He signs off with his usual: a heart followed by the dove emoticon.
Cerise re-enters as I stand before the open fridge with my phone now switched to the notes app. She peers over my shoulder at the list and lifts her eyebrows.
“Add gherkins. Zeus loves them in a potato salad.” She nods at the list. “You could make that, right? I haven’t given Jodie enough notice to make one for him like she used to.”
This bitch…. “Sure. I imagine it’s not hard.”
“It’s not.” She holds out a stack of twenties in her hand. “One hundred. Should be enough, right?”
How much money does she keep on her? Hell. “Yeah. Perfect.” I take what’s offered and then accept the keys she lifts with her other hand.
“No speeding, and only to the supermarket. Okay?”
“Sure.” I flick my loose hair over my ears, hoping my telltale blush isn’t showing.
She steps to the counter and pours herself a new wine as I slip my boots on. “Tell Dad to message me if he thinks of anything else.”
“Of course.”
I make it as far as the door.
“Belle?”
“Yeah?” The air in the house seems charged, the tension too high for my liking.
“Send Kate a message while you’re out, huh? Maybe you could make yourself scarce for the evening.”
My heart beats wildly in my chest as I swallow the anger rising to my lips and utter a simple, “Sure.”
My mother knows more than she lets on, and given the fact she’s back drinking again it’s only a matter of time before the alcohol frays the threads of her tripwire and sets the bomb off.
If Zeus wants this to continue between us, then he better figure out a way to break it to Dad. Because right now, I’m ready to pack a bag and drive to his house on a one-way suicide mission—fuck the consequences.
If Dad can choose a life of misery with the bitch that gave birth to me, then why the hell can’t I choos
e a life of love with the man who risks it all for me?
TWENTY-EIGHT
Zeus
Logic would blame the change in the air on the shifting seasons, but as I step out into my best friend’s backyard, my gut tells me the unease can be attributed to something a lot more ominous.
I force myself to look toward John first, giving him a nod before I send a smile toward Jodie and Cerise, acknowledging Belle last. Her gaze is apprehensive as she reclines on a lawn chair around the fire pit John has lit.
Have to admit I feel much the same seeing my ex-wife here. Curious that she hasn’t bought Eric with her.
“Glad you made it,” Cerise calls out before turning to Belle. “Get your uncle a beer, would you.”
My spine aches at her blatant decision to label our relationship in such a way. Belle seems to stiffen also as she rises to head for the cooler.
What started as a gathering of old friends will be war before the night is out; that much I’m sure of.
“How was the week?” John asks, seemingly oblivious as he rises and turns toward the barbecue.
“Long.” I chuckle, choosing to do the usual and join him at the business end of things while the women talk.
What they talk about though, wouldn’t I like to know that?
John throws a cursory glance at the women and then leans in close. “You okay with her being here?”
“Jodie?”
He nods.
I shrug one shoulder. “Sure. Where’s the arsehole she’s living with?”
John smirks, lifting the lid on the barbecue to prepare the plates. “Apparently he wasn’t comfortable coming along. Not when he heard Cerise had invited you, too.”
I chuckle, crossing my arms as I note the bored look on Jodie’s face while Cerise talks. “Can’t blame the guy, really.”
I keep civil for John’s sake as it is. He wants to make this work with Cerise, so as much as I can’t stand the bitch, I’ll play along—especially if it means a chance to see Belle.
Ah, who the fuck am I kidding? Belle is the only reason I’m here.
“Best we get this bad boy started,” John says with a smile as he reaches for the tap on the gas bottle. “Belle’s made some good-looking salads, and I’m famished.”
The girl in question appears at my side, a freshly opened bottle in a coolie. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Our fingers touch as she passes it to me, and an ache like I’ve never known settles in my arm as I force myself to pull back.
I want to wrap an arm around her waist and pull to my side, where she belongs. I want to kiss those pink lips until they’re swollen and blushed. I want to fucking bite her shoulder at the base of her neck and mark her so that no other fucker looks twice at her.
Jesus. Get a grip.
“It’s been quiet without you here,” John admits as he fires the elements to life.
I pull my gaze from Belle’s retreating arse and smile. “Didn’t realise I was that much of a noisy housemate.”
“Not particularly.” He nods toward his daughter. “But she doesn’t talk nearly as much either, so it’s as though I’ve lost the two of you.”
“Her and Cerise still not getting along?” I lift the bottle to my lips, aiming for indifference.
He frowns and takes a moment to answer. “No.”
Silence hangs thick between us as John reaches for the packages of meat set on the side of the grill. He tears them open, arranging the sausages across the plate first. Jodie avoids eye contact, twisting to give me her back as I shift my focus to the women. Cerise, however… that bitch watches me like a hawk as I lean against the side of house and take another pull of my beer.
Belle is nowhere to be seen.
The whole thing is fucked. I’m surrounded by so-called friends, and yet it feels as though I’m stranded in the middle of a minefield.
“Shoot,” John exclaims from beside me. “Could you nip indoors and grab the tray to put this on when it’s done?”
“Yeah, sure.” I set my beer down on the side of the barbecue and head for the house.
Cerise eyes me the whole way while my ex-wife continues to chat, seemingly oblivious to the daggers being thrown my way.
I find Belle in the kitchen, chopping fresh tomatoes. She stills as I walk in, her shoulders visibly relaxing. “We have to be careful.”
“Hello to you, too.”
Her knife lifts and she gestures outside with a flick of her wrist. “I think she’s onto us.”
“I think so too.” Makes me worry if Belle can sense it too. What’s the woman said to her?
Belle sucks in a sharp breath as I grab her jeans by the pocket and yank her toward me. Where I stand, we’re out of line of the windows that overlook the backyard, out of sight of the buzzard waiting for its kill.
“Can’t sleep right without you under the same roof,” I murmur against her neck.
She leans into me, her hand held out to the side with the knife still in her grasp. “I hate being so far away from you.”
“It had to happen.” I couldn’t stay at John’s forever—especially with Cerise back. “It was only ever temporary, dove.”
“I want permanent with you, though.” She frowns, her eyes searching mine. “I want to live with you.”
I can’t hear any more, not when my own heart echoes the same sentiments. She sighs against my mouth as I claim her with the kiss that’s been on my mind since I dropped her home midweek. I want to come home to this every day, to walk in the door and kiss my woman so that she knows how much I’ve missed her.
I want this. I want it now.
I want her now.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper, my forehead pressed to hers as I hold Belle’s face in my hands. “I can’t keep pretending you mean nothing, that I don’t look at you and want to touch you, that I don’t want to make every moment we get together count.”
“So, let’s tell them.”
If only it were that simple. “Not tonight, dove. We will, but not tonight.” My thumbs grow wet, and I pull away to find tears cutting a path down her cheeks. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“She wants to get you back together with Jodie.” Belle frowns. “That’s why Cerise organised this.”
She has nothing to worry about. “She’s delusional,” I say with a smile. “Jodie’s happy with that arsehole, now. She’s moved on.”
Yet the words don’t seem to convince Belle, her frown growing deeper. “Do you though?”
“Do I what?”
“Still love her?”
Jesus. That’s what she thinks? “No.” I stroke my thumb across her cheek, wiping away the fresh tears. “Why would you even think that?”
“Because you only just split.” Belle pulls from my hold, resuming chopping the tomatoes as she talks. “You were upset about it, when you found out about her cheating on you. I just figured….”
“What?” Because whatever her mind came up with, she’s got it arse about face.
“That I was a rebound.”
“Jesus, dove. Fuck no.” I step beside her, not giving a single fuck if anyone—Cerise especially—can see us as I reach for her chin and turn her face toward me. “Jodie and I were done a long time ago. It’s just neither of us wanted to face the truth. I love you. You, Belle. I’ve loved you for a long time.”
“You can love more than one person.” Her eyes search mine.
“In more than one way,” I stress. “I love your father, I loved my sister, and yeah, I love Jodie because she was a part of my life for so long, but you?” I smile, releasing her chin from my grip. “Baby, you’re something that I’ve never felt so deep before, something nobody can match.”
Belle steps away, returning to her task. “It hurts living without you,” she tells the tomatoes that die under her assault. “It hurts waking up every day wondering if this is the one where I lose you.”
“Why the fuck would you?” I cross my arms; frustrated that she needs to be reminded constantly how deep th
is runs between us.
“Because you said it yourself.” She pauses to look me in the eye, and the ache in her words damn near cripples me. “What we have can’t last. There are ways for people to tear us apart if they really wanted to. What we’re doing here, it’s not normal. It might not be wrong, but it isn’t exactly right either. It’s dangerous.” She sighs, setting the knife down to place her hand on my arm, out of view of the others. “One of us is going to get hurt, and I don’t know if I could handle being the one that is, especially if you were the one to do it.”
“So stop worrying about it.” I hook my fingers in the waist of her jeans to pull her hips to mine. “Because I’ve got no intentions of hurting you. Ever.”
TWENTY-NINE
Belle
“Can I give you a hand?” Jodie steps into the kitchen where I clean up after dinner.
Dad sits outside with Cerise and Zeus, the three of them talking around the fire pit. Zeus kept his distance throughout the meal, barely including me in conversation. If he hadn’t stolen those earlier minutes with me in the kitchen, I’d almost think it’s over in his mind.
But it’s not. He seems determined not to let me go, even if his common sense is screaming at him to do so. And that’s what’s so hard to process when he says he’s not ready to tell Dad yet.
“Help would be appreciated. Thanks.” I smile at Jodie as I continue to scrub.
She lifts the dishtowel from the handle of the oven and picks up one of the pots I’ve just washed. “How have you been?”
I catch her eye as I start on the barbecue tools, wary. She’s never liked me all that much; I don’t think Jodie is the maternal kind, to be honest. Still, her concern seems genuine as she swirls the checked towel around the base of the pot.
“Okay.”
“Your dad said you’re trying to find work.”
“Yeah.” I focus on a stubborn grease stain. “I’m not having much luck though.”
“Don’t give up.” She offers a smile as she sets the dry pot aside. “It’ll come.” Jodie appears to be thinking over her next question as she lifts the next pot. “Are you saving for anything in particular?”
