Sweet Thing

by JA Huss

  “Fuck you,” I say. “That’s not even cool.”

  He shrugs and hold his hands up. “Callin’ it like I see it, bro. Everyone else around here just sees you as you are now. But me?” He shakes his head. “I knew you before. I know why you did the things you did and fucked shit up.”

  “And it was you who pulled me out of it in sophomore year of college, I know, I know.”

  He points his finger at me. “Don’t fuck this up, Ryker. You worked goddamned hard to put the past behind you and start over. Don’t let misplaced nostalgia and the desire to be young again pull you off the rails. Fuck this girl. I mean, literally, fuck her brains out. Get it out of your system. But don’t be naive. Don’t let her innocence and fresh-faced youth lead you astray. It can’t work. Everyone knows this.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Sure. You’re right.”

  There’s no sense arguing with Ozzy. Once he takes a position on something he won’t back down. But that’s OK. Aria and I need time to figure this out for ourselves before we make a public announcement. And hey, maybe he’s right. Maybe it all crashes and burns tonight. No harm done.

  And if he’s wrong then by the time we do go public we’ll be solid and no one will be able to break us apart.

  He leans across my desk, clasps me on the shoulder, and says, “Good talk, brother. It’s the right decision. You wanna come have drinks with me and Tiffany tonight?”

  “Who is Tiffany?” I ask.

  “Never mind,” he says, standing up and laughing. “Next week it’ll be someone else, so why waste my breath. Have fun drumming,” he adds, walking out of my office.

  I breathe a sigh of relief when he says goodbye to the staff and leaves. I love me some Ozzy, but I don’t want to hear his opinions about Aria and me.

  I decide to leave early too. But before I go I text her. Just to make sure she’s hasn’t forgotten. Even though I’ve been in the co-op every night this week, she’s been absent. I text her once a day. Just one time to say I hope she had a nice day. And each time she’s texted me back with an answer and asked about mine.

  It’s kinda… sweet.

  Goddamn, everything about her is sweet.

  My fingers flash across my phone as I write, See you at seven. And don’t wear a dress.

  It’s delivered. Read. And typing bubbles appear immediately. I hope that’s her excited response and not an oh-shit-I-forgot-to-cancel response.

  Yes, I love her youth. I am distracted by her fresh face and innocence. That’s precisely why I’ve decided to take this relationship seriously and super-slow.

  We’re gonna get to know each other. We’re gonna bond. We don’t need sex to do that.

  Her reply pops up with a ding.

  Don’t wear a dress? How will you finger me in the car?

  Oh, shit. I think I just got hard.

  A winking emoji pops up. Then a bitmoji picture of her avatar pouting with the caption “y tho” over her head.

  Bitmojis. I just smile. Because OK, yeah. She makes me feel young again. Everything that’s happened since the moment I first saw her in that board meeting has made me feel alive again.

  I text back, You’ll see. Jeans and a t-shirt, please. And then #trustme.

  She sends me another bitmoji of her blowing a heart-shaped kiss that says See you soon!

  But now I’m hopelessly distracted by the thought of fingering her in the car.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN - ARIA

  First of all, he picks me up in a limo. A limo. Not the company car with a driver. Which is also swanky and cool, but not nearly as romantic as a limo. That’s my first clue that this is gonna be a very different kind of date than the first time at the Corinthian.

  The second clue is that he brings me flowers. Actually, a single red rose. Long-stemmed and already in a crystal bud vase.

  “First time,” I tell him as he smiles at my reaction. “First time a man has brought me flowers.”

  I don’t tell him that Larry picked me some daisies at summer camp two years ago because Larry didn’t even get his skinny little dick inside me so he loses all chances at any firsts forever.

  Ryker smiles and nods. Not even one lewd comment about how he’s gonna take all my firsts. And then I picture giving him my first blow job. Because we haven’t gotten there yet and I’m wondering if tonight is the night.

  So then we go downstairs and get in the limo and I have no idea where we’re going, but I’m pretty disappointed that his fingers aren’t inside me. But of course, I’m wearing jeans so that’s a whole production I knew we weren’t going to deal with.

  But the date is a local rock band at a little venue in mid-town. Eighteen and up, so even though Ryker is clearly over twenty-one, they won’t sell him alcohol because we have different-colored wrist bands. When I realize that I feel a little embarrassed that he had to take me to a place like this. How long has it been since he’s had a night out with a woman that doesn’t involve drinks?

  So I ask him if he wants me to go stand somewhere else so he can get a drink and he says, “I didn’t bring you here to drink, Aria. We can drink anywhere we want. I brought you to see the band.”

  Which, I admit, kinda makes me like him a little more in that moment.

  And if Ryker feels self-conscious about being one of the older dudes among all the twenty-somethings, he doesn’t show it. He holds my hand and leads me through the crowd. When people get rowdy near us, he stands in front of me and dares them to take another step forward. When the music comes on he finds us a spot near the front and wraps his arms around me like a protector.

  There isn’t much talking but for some reason it works for us. I get the opportunity to relax, and people-watch, and listen to the music. I’ve never been to one of these shows before. There are a few kids in my school who are into this scene. All-ages clubs, and drinking, and pot. But honesty, St. Bernadette’s is a little microcosm of the city where none of the bad stuff exists. Maybe that’s stupid. Maybe keeping kids sheltered like this is just wishful thinking. But I like being safe and if I was here alone tonight I’d be terrified. Ryker takes away all the apprehension about trying new things and just lets me exist. There are no expectations other than that. It’s an opportunity to appreciate things for the first time in a safe way.

  Kinda like the way he took my virginity.

  And when I go back to high school in a week none of my friends will even believe the time I had over break. I feel like a whole different person. The sex, the college class, the apartment, the co-op… I feel like Aria Amherst got dropped off somewhere and this new, adult version of me took over.

  Now I glance over at Ryker in the back of the limo. I’m stretched out on the back seat with my feet in his lap and he’s massaging them because I was dumb and wore heels. And while this was just some local band, they were pretty popular tonight and we had to stand the whole time.

  But back to Ryker North.

  Mmmmm. He looks delicious in his jeans and t-shirt. It’s an old, once-black-but-now-faded-to-gray concert shirt. That band that April always loved. Son of a Jack.

  He’s looking intently at my feet as he rubs my toes and I’m watching the tattoos on his arms dance with his movements. Demons, all of them. Red and black with swirls of smoke and flames.

  He glances over at me and says, “Did you have fun tonight?”

  I nod my head slowly. “I did. Never been to a show before. And the only concerts I’ve gone to are the ones my parents took me to. And that was all classical music.”

  He smiles and laughs.

  “You probably think I’m so young, don’t you. So inexperienced and innocent.”

  “Those aren’t bad things to be, Aria.”

  “I know, but… you can’t even drink around me without people suspecting you of corruption. It didn’t bother you?”

  He shakes his head and frowns. “No.” Then he looks over at me, his hair falling over his eyes. “I feel responsible for you,” he says. “Especially after meeting your father. Maybe
that first night I went home thinking, you know. Not for me. But I’ve changed my mind, Aria. You are for me.”

  I think about that for a few moments. “So that’s what this was? Our first date.”

  “Yeah. This was a good first date. No awkward conversation, no expectations, no ulterior motives.”

  “Whoa, hold on,” I say, putting a hand up to indicate full stop. “I hope you’re not planning on dropping me off and kissing me good night at the door.”

  He smiles, still massaging my toes. “That was the plan.”

  “Uh… no,” I say. “Just noooo.” And I pout a little. “I want to see your house. You’ve seen a whole bunch of me and I haven’t seen anything of you. It’s not fair.”

  He considers this and says, “Fair enough. You want to see my apartment?”

  “Yes.”

  He leans forward enough to tab the controls for the blacked-out divider separating us from the driver and lowers it. “Change of venue, we’re going back to my place.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. North,” the driver says.

  Then Ryker raises the divider and leans back again.

  “Is this your limo?” I ask. Because I figured he rented it.

  “Company limo. Same driver as usual, though.”

  “Oh.” So interesting. My father is rich. I think. I guess. I always thought we were rich. But unless he’s going to the airport he drives himself everywhere. Even when I used to have dance classes, or art classes, or that one year I took piano—he drove me everywhere. Always dropped me off. Always picked me up. So this company limo stuff is foreign to me.

  “Do you think my father likes you?” I ask.

  He gives me a sideways look out of the corner of his eye. “So far.”

  I chuckle a little. “Yeah, I don’t know what he would think about this.”

  “I have a pretty good idea. That’s why I’m trying to do this right, Aria. His opinion is important, and not because we’re in the middle of a deal. His opinion is important because…” He runs his hand through his hair again, sighing. “Well, because he loves you. It’s pretty clear you’re his sweet princess of a daughter. And if I have any hope of seeing you long-term, his opinion of me matters.”

  Long-term. “I’m sorry, did you just say long-term? Or am I hearing things?”

  He does that side-eye thing again. “Unless you don’t want to see me long-term. I might be getting ahead of myself.”

  “You want to see me long-term? As in… after spring break is over? After April comes back and kicks me out of her apartment? After my life goes back to normal?”

  “Like I said, unless you don’t want to.”

  I just stare at him for a few seconds. Blinking in astonishment. Then manage to say, “I guess it never occurred to me.”

  “Which part?”

  “That you would actually… care about me.”

  “It took me by surprise as well. But I do. I like you, Aria. And if keeping your attention means making sure you have all the right experiences in all the right order, then that’s what I’m prepared to do.”

  “But… we’re going to have sex tonight, right?”

  He laughs. And his smile is big. And that’s when I realize—he hasn’t smiled much tonight. He was pretty serious, in fact. Still is. “We’ll see,” he says.

  But now I’m thinking about him instead of me. “Did you have fun tonight?”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “No, I’m serious. Because you didn’t smile much.”

  “Oh.” He smiles again. “I was worried about you. People getting too close to you. Knocking you down or spilling drinks on you. But I had a really good time doing that.”

  I think I swoon at that. Actually get a little light-headed.

  “The whole point was to just take you out and show you something new. A little of me, I guess. So you’re wrong, actually. I did show you me. And I hope you enjoyed the music because I did. I liked that band a lot.”

  I open my mouth to say something but the car stops and Ryker looks past me out my window. “This is me,” he says, grabbing my heels and slipping them on my feet. Then he places them on the floor just as the driver opens my door.

  I get out and he gets out after me. Then he nods to the driver and takes my hand, leading me to the front of his building.

  The doorman greets him by name, then nods his head at me and says, “Good evening, ma’am,” as he opens the door.

  The lobby is almost empty so the only sound is the echo of our shoes tapping on the tiled floor. In the elevator he flashes a keycard at a sensor and the button for the penthouse lights up.

  I glance at him, grinning, and he offers me a small, humble shrug.

  At the top the doors open straight into his apartment.

  Floor-to-ceiling views of midtown, large, gray, leather sectional sofa with two red accent chairs, and room-sized white rug over dark hardwood floors.

  “I’m boring,” he says. “I’m not here that much, so please don’t judge my decorating.”

  He walks me over to the window and we stand there in silence for a few seconds. Then I look up at him and grin. “I don’t think I understand you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I look at his reflection in the glass—his concert t-shirt, his faded jeans, his demon tattoos—then refocus so I can see the apartment behind him. Such a contrast. “Where did you come from, Ryker North? Not midtown. You didn’t go to a school like St. Bernadette’s, did you? So who are you?”

  He sighs, drops my hand, and then walks over to a drink cart and begins pouring himself a drink from a decanter. Takes a sip. Looks at me. Takes another one. Sets the drink down.

  I can’t help but notice that he doesn’t offer me one.

  “It’s a long story,” he finally says.

  I kick off my heels and walk over to him, unsure if I’m allowed to touch him, but unable to stop myself. So I place my hands on his arms and say, “I’ve got all night, Mr. North.”

  “But is that really how you want to spend it?” Then he winks. “Talking, Aria?”

  “Hey,” I say. “You were planning on kissing me goodnight at the door, remember?”

  “I know what I was planning. I’m asking you what you were planning.”

  I blush. Immediately.

  He runs his fingers through his hair for the hundredth time tonight. It’s sexily disheveled.

  “Well?” he asks, when my silence goes on too long.

  “No,” I admit. “I wasn’t planning on talking tonight."

  His hand finds my waist and he pulls me closer. “This is why I wanted to take you home. Believe me, I want to do all the things to you tonight. But I’m trying to be good and go slow.”

  I swallow hard, then say, “What if I don’t want you to be good?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN - RYKER

  I want to be strong, I really, really do. I want to go slow, and be careful with her, and show her that this isn’t about sex, it’s about us. That we’re building something here. Something special, and unique, and I’m not just interested in her body.

  But my hands have other ideas. My fingers are already slipping up inside her t-shirt, palms pressing flat on her breasts. She closes her eyes and leans into me.

  “Aria,” I say. Because she’s driving me crazy.

  “Don’t be good,” she says. “Please don’t be good. I can’t stop thinking about how it felt to have you inside me and how I could still feel you the next day.”

  “Fuck,” I moan.

  “I was so sore,” she says. “It felt so weird, but so good, too. And I’ve been thinking about you. Playing that night over and over in my head. That’s all I want, Ryker. That’s it. Just for you to be inside me again so I can feel that way.”

  I take a deep breath and pull her bra down under her shirt.

  “I should’ve worn a dress. Then you wouldn’t even have to take off my pants. I could just slip into your lap and—“

  I pull her t-shirt over her head and she squeaks wit
h surprise, giggling as I toss it over my shoulder. Her tits are big and bunched up from her bra.

  “Get me naked,” she says. “Take my clothes off and then I’ll take off yours.”

  I reach around her back and unhook her bra. It falls down her arms and she flicks it to the floor at her bare feet.

  I just look at her for a moment. Her long, dark, red hair is flowing over her shoulders. And she has some makeup on so her eyes are darker than normal. She is sweet, but tonight she looks dark too. Dark and hungry.

  I picture my cock in her mouth. How she’ll gag on it. And how that’ll make me feel and I suddenly want to forget I’m supposed to be careful and just bend her over and fuck her in the ass.

  Calm down, Ryker. Calm down.

  “Here,” she says, placing my fingers at the button of her jeans. “Let me help you.”

  Where did she learn to talk like this?

  But then I realize… she’s not even dirty-talking to me. She’s just being helpful and truthful. Just being innocent and young.

  I’m going to hell for this. I’m corrupting her and there’s no way karma won’t get me back for that.

  But those are thoughts for another time. I pop the button on her jeans and pull her zipper down. Slide my hand between her legs as I turn her around and hold her close to my chest.

  “I want your fingers inside me,” she says. “I like that. I like that a lot.”

  I rub her clit though her panties and she grips my wrist, urging me to put my fingers inside her.

  I want to talk back to her. Make her as hot as she’s getting me, but I can’t fucking think straight. My cock is pressing against my jeans, so hard and ready for her. And my mind is clouded with lust and desire to do exactly what she tells me.

  She’s so wet her sweet liquid seeps through her panties. That’s my excuse for holding all the dirty things in. She doesn’t need it. But I don’t either and I still like it.

  So I say, “You know what I liked about you that night?”

  “Hmmm?” she asks. “What?”

  “I liked how your tight pussy clamped down on my cock when you came. I wanted to come inside you so bad.”