My foot is slamming on the brakes. My hand is twisting the wheel to the side.
“LUKE! LUKE!”
I’m back in the car. It’s Emma who’s yelling. The car is off on the shoulder of the road. I pulled over this time, at least.
“Luke, are you ok?” Emma’s asking. She opens the car door.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Get back in the car.”
She does so and Parker groans. “Not again, daaaad.”
I force a laugh, turn to smile at my little boy. “Sorry, buddy. Dad missed his appointment today, but we’ll get back home just fine.”
The rest of the ride home is silent. Even the few minutes waiting for Parker’s mom to pick him up are unbearably quiet, then tense. When she does finally come and he runs off with a hug and a wave, all that’s left is what’s unsaid.
“Do you want some time alone?” Emma asks.
I shake my head. Some time alone is the last thing I want.
We go to the family room and sit down on the couch as if everything’s normal. I can’t think of anything to say but the thing itself, so I do.
“I have PTSD.”
“Oh,” Emma says, and I continue.
“I’ve had it since I got back. Nightmares – flashbacks to when my friends blew up. I can’t get it out of my had. The doc says to give it time, but I’ve given it time. Girls, sex . . . It all helps.” I avoid her gaze, immediately regretting everything I just said. As if living with her hasn’t been awkward enough, now I had to go and randomly spill my guts.
“My mom’s an alcoholic,” Emma says quietly. “And I don’t know what to do.” Her words are teary and her hands are clenched into tiny fists. “She keeps getting worse and worse and . . . I’ve tried helping. I keep on saving her, but . . .”
Her gaze flicks to me, and she looks so miserable, I can’t help but throw my arms around her, hold her. “You can’t save someone who wants to die,” she states sadly.
I rub her back, nodding. “That’s what happened to my dad. He killed himself. After my mom ran off, he couldn’t take it. He drank and smoked and drank. One day, that wasn’t enough. He took a handful pills, went to sleep, and never woke up. I don’t know what happened to my mom.”
And, just as I’m cursing myself for this admission, Emma’s pulling back, staring into my face. “I . . . I always thought I was alone – some sort of freak for having such a messed-up family. For having a dad who abandoned us and a mom who couldn’t take it. Dad’s tried to patch things up over these past few years, but it can’t be done. He just wants to be left alone with Margot. I can see it every other time I visit.”
I shake my head. “Emma, your dad does care about you. I can see it – he looks out for you.”
Now Emma pulls away, shaking her head fiercely. “I don’t want him to look out for me. I want him to be there for me. And he hasn’t been – not for years.”
The silence is heavy with what we’ve revealed, and yet strangely clear at the same time. I feel lighter.
Emma is slumped into me. She looks so sad, so vulnerable – I could take her right then. And yet, after what we’ve just told each other, it doesn’t seem right somehow. Not now. Not yet.
Chapter Eleven - Emma
The rest of the week is fun. I work every day, engaging with more students each passing day. Several times I get connected with Tanika, to our mutual pleasure. As far as Luke is concerned, after our little mishap and later heart-to-heart, he has backed way off. Now, he’s more like a friend than anything, listening to my tales of Margot’s craziness and my trip to Beirut while he shares his own war stories, the good and the bad. Parker is too cute for words. Every day, he rushes around the house until he’s found me. When he gets picked up by his mother on Friday (I wait in my room, as that seems most prudent), I’m almost sad to see him go.
As the night goes on, however, Luke and I have fun. We watch nonstop BBC Planet Earth, laughing our heads off at all the dopey things the animals do. We gulp down five Caramilks together. Finally, curled up on the couch, it gets so hot that Luke takes off his shirt.
“Sorry,” he says apologetically.
I shrug. “It’s fine.” Although I can’t stop myself from a quick admiring look at his abs.
“So, you mentioned,” Luke was saying, “That you’ve never really gone out dancing with your friends. That all the places you’ve ever went to sucked.”
“Yeah,” I say.
“Well, I don’t know. I haven’t gone in a while and seeing my ex – not my favorite person – always puts me in a mood.”
“Oh,” I say, shooting him a sidelong glance to confirm that he does indeed look like he’s ‘in a mood.’ “What happened?” I ask, adding quickly, “If you don’t mind saying.”
Luke isn’t looking at me. He chuckles bitterly. “What happened is absolutely nothing. I mean, I never loved her. She was the longest relationship I’ve ever had – a few months – but only because I was getting over the flu and was too lazy to find anyone else. We never got along and still don’t. Then she had Parker, was determined to have Parker. Even if I didn’t love her, I had to do the right thing. I had to be in my son’s life. But, no, I never loved her. I only barely endured her at the best of times.”
“Oh,” I said.
Luke moves so that he’s right next to me, our legs brushing against each other. “I know it sounds stupid – ridiculous, even – to be with someone you can hardly stand . . . But I used to work a lot. I didn’t have much time for . . . No, that’s not really it.” He shakes his head. “I guess if I’m not going to be full of shit, then I’ll have to admit that I don’t really get along with a lot of girls . . . Or a lot of people, for that matter. I don’t know. I mean, they’re easy to talk to and be with, but as far as actually spending a lot of time, actually getting me . . .”
His face still irritated-looking, he rises, glancing at me. “What I was saying before was . . . Would you – I mean, I totally understand if you don’t want to – but would you want to go out dancing with me? Just for an hour or so? We can leave as soon as you want,” he adds before I can answer him.
I stare at the frozen image of the seals on the TV screen. The same BBC Planet Earth episode I’d seen probably around five times now, the one I was actually starting to get secretly bored of just now. Besides, after what Luke said, I almost feel bad for him. “What club?” I ask.
Luke grins. “Tamika’s – you’ve probably passed it by? It’s a pretty chill place – a cool, slightly older crowd. There’s good music and lots of real dancing, not just the grinding you see at those Top 40 places.”
I shrug. “I’m not really a big dancer, though.”
Luke shrugs in return. “It’s more to blow off steam than anything. You can just sit the whole time if you’d rather do that. But, again, I don’t want to pressure you.”
When I glance at him, Luke’s not looking at me. He’s on his phone. The whole idea is harmless enough. Luke’s clearly calmed down from when I first got here, too. Why not? “Ok,” I say, “Let me just change into something that doesn’t resemble pajamas.”
Luke whoops then pumps his fist in the air. “This is going to be a great night – you’ll see!”
And, as I walk up the creaky attic steps, it strikes me that something tells me that too.
***
I choose 4-inch stilettos and a shiny metallic dress. It’s tight and I’ve never worn it before, but screw it. I’m going out for the first time in months and I could use a little pick-me-up tonight.
As soon as I walk into the room, Luke rises. “Wow, I . . .” He looks away, and I wonder if I’ve made a mistake. “Emma . . . Damn, you look . . . really good.”
“Thanks,” I say, shyly avoiding his intent stare.
“I mean it,” he says, his gaze snaking down to my shoes. “When you first mentioned your shoe obsession, I admit, I thought you were a little crazy. But if your other shoes are anything like these . . .” His voice trails off as I laugh.
�
�I don’t actually have that many shoes like these, to be honest. Most are practical.”
But it’s as if Luke hadn’t heard me. His gaze is still plastered on me. The awkwardness doesn’t last long, however, because soon we’re out the door and into Luke’s car, heading to this so-called “Tamika’s.” Despite hitting just about every red light, we get there fast enough. Which is good because the longer I spend with Luke, the more I’m wondering if this whole thing wasn’t a mistake.
He isn’t really doing anything, which is what makes my feelings all the more infuriating. Other than his gaping, hungry look when he was checking me out by the door, he’s been acting the same to me as he had before: kind, courteous, like a friend. Could I have been imagining that he was flirting with me? Had he really been so little attracted to me that when I refused him, he could just drop it easily, just like that?
When we arrive at the black-walled box-like place, music and people are already spilling out of the door. Luke, however, takes my hand and strides past the long line of scantily-dressed people all the way to the front. Ignoring the protests, he stops in front of the big beefy bouncer.
“Jules.”
The bouncer’s wide face breaks into a toothy white smile. “Luke, my man. You come right on in” His gaze flicks to me and he nods. “And your lady friend too.”
And then Luke’s saying “Thanks man” and pulling me into the dark room. Multicolored lights flicker all around us, lighting up parts of people: a man’s fingers looped through his belt buckles, a woman’s too-big lips, a man’s biceps, Luke’s gaze. It’s on me, but then the light flicks away and my eyes adjust. We’re at the bar.
“Want a drink?” Luke asks, but I shake my head. I sit down on the stool while he orders. He talks to a hot blonde bartender who returns his easy smile and laughs at something he said. A quick look around reveals that a good amount of the girls around us are giving him interested looks. Suddenly, I feel ridiculous for wearing my try-hard metallic dress and sky-high shoes – for thinking Luke could ever be seriously attracted to me. I feel like melting into the stool and disappearing entirely.
But when Luke’s got his beer in hand, although the hot bartender is still lingering at the counter by him, he turns to me with a smile.
“Let me just down this so I can get some liquid courage for our dancing.”
I manage a weak smile and nod. Let’s see how long Luke actually sticks with me.
The longer we sit there, and the more girls gravitate towards us, the angrier I feel with Luke. For him bringing me here as some kind of sick joke – as some kind of revenge plot for me getting angry at him a few days ago.
When we finally arrive on the dance floor, I can hardly make myself move. A girl whose high-waisted shorts expose her bare ass starts grinding on Luke from behind. He pauses and turns. I walk away. I’ve had enough. I’m not going to stand here and watch Luke have dance floor sex with some random girl.
He grabs my arm and says, “Emma, where are you going?”
I whirl around to face him. “I’m leaving. You want to hook up with one of these random girls,” I sweep my arm around the room, where there’s still a few of them watching him like piranhas, “be my guest. But I’m not going to stand there like a big metallic idiot and watch. No thank you.”
Luke’s brow creases. “What the hell are you talking about, Emma? That girl on the dance floor – I moved away as soon as I realized what she was doing. Then, when you walked away, I followed you. That’s it.”
As I stare at him skeptically, he takes my hand. Leaning in, he whispers, “Ok. So, maybe coming here just to blow off steam wasn’t the complete truth. But you can’t blame me for wanting to spend some time with you away from Planet Earth, now can you?” His face looks earnest and already he’s pulling me back to the dance floor, back to the rotating disco ball and the pulsing bodies. “Just one song.” His warm breath is urging my ear. “Just one song, and if you still aren’t having fun, then you can leave.”
It seems like a fair enough deal. Until I get on the dance floor, that is.
***
Everything is on Luke’s side. The sardine-packed bodies, wriggling and rubbing themselves all over each other, the uumph-uumph beat urging everyone on, the disco lights that have my mind flickering all over the place with them.
Luke and I are dancing close; there’s no other way to dance here. We are possessed by the beat, controlled by it. The beat brings us together: his hands on my waist, my hands around his neck. When the light flickers over his face, he’s wearing an expression that I don’t recognize. One that scares me.
His gaze meets mine, flicks to my lips. Now the beat has Luke turning me around, burrowing my hips and ass into his crotch until we’re one movement, one pulse, one beat. I can feel him against me.
The crowd is indistinct, a sea of bodies possessed by the same never-ending beat. Luke’s hands are running up and down my sides, part of the beat, of the growing sensation. Now his hands are turning me around, bringing me to him closer and closer. Even his mouth is on beat, mashing against mine. It’s all just part of the song, whatever comes next. His lips are ridiculously soft and move oh-so slowly. It feels just like last time. It’s as if we’re back there behind the school in the tall scratchy grass. As if the dark-eyed, shaggy-haired boy’s lips are moving against mine so assuredly and skillfully that I can’t take it.
When I open my eyes, I see that Luke’s eyes are closed. I’m not afraid anymore.
I close my eyes. His tongue slips between my lips, moving in the same flicking rhythm of his hands, stroking every part of me: my sides, my ass. Now our bodies aren’t controlled by the beat, they are the beat. The relentless pulse beats on and on and on.
But then the song stops and Luke’s hand takes the lead, pulls me out of there.
Chapter Twelve - Emma
His car is darker than I remember, parked more remotely. Or maybe that’s just because, even in there, he’s on top of me, pressing every part of himself into every part of me. His chest is hard, but, more importantly, so is his dick pressing into my pelvis. He’s devouring me like an animal, nibbling and sucking on my neck, tugging at my earlobe. He stops to smirk down at my moans.
“You’ve always wanted me, haven’t you?”
I smirk right back at him. “You always have too, haven’t you?”
He throws his face over mine in response. Now, his hands are squeezing the huge mounds of my breasts, groaning as he puts both hands over one then both over the other. Then, he freezes.
Hearing voices, we duck so that we’re out of sight. The couple on the sidewalk outside passes. I start to sit up, but he shoves me back down.
Returning my pout with a smile, Luke declares, “I’m not finished with you yet.” Then, he slides his hands under my dress. I gasp; they’re surprisingly cool. Now, they’re running over my bra, while his grin broadens. “Lace, my innocent Emma? Almost like you knew . . .”
Now he’s sticking his finger between my lips, ordering me to “suck it.”
And, as his hands slip under my bra cups, I do. I suck and lick his finger, press it all the way to the back of my throat, while he kneads my breasts with his other hand. We groan together. He slips his hands out and rips down the top half of my dress, then tears off my bra. Now, gazing down at my heaving breasts with a look of adoration, he buries his face between them. Next thing I know he’s shaking his head back and forth, motorboating them, groaning with pleasure.
Once he’s finished, he slides his mouth over my nipple and starts sucking. Fuck, does it feel good. My moans are even louder now, and he slides his mouth over to my other tit, growling, “You fucking love it, don’t you?”
“Uhhh,” is all I can manage as he plasters his lips over my other nipple. And now his hands are sliding up, massaging both of my boobs. Hell, does it feel good. I’m crazy wet, but there are more voices now. We duck down again until Luke pops back up.
Glancing at me, he says, “Stay down.” Then, he puts his foot on
the gas. He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I’m topless, for God’s sake. And so, I crouch there in the front seat while the car zooms on, fast but not fast enough.
Because now there’s a hunger within me. I can’t stop now.
So, while he drives, my hand goes for his cock, starts stroking it over his jeans. He’s hard as hell.
Pausing at a red light, Luke pats my head. “Good girl.” Then, he unzips his pants. I feel his dick over his silky briefs, his hard pole ready for the wet slit between my legs.
As I slide my hand up and down it, a quiet voice reminds me: You shouldn’t do this. You should stop. But up until now, there’s been a building, an irresistible building that can’t be stopped. We’ve gone much too far now. The car is stopping and I am too, but it’s too late.
Luke’s taking off his shirt, tossing it to me.
“Put on this so we can go in.”
I put it on and, taking my hand, he leads me out of the car and inside the house. Once there, no sooner has he closed the door than is he turning to me.
“Give me back my shirt.”
His pants are still undone, his brief-covered dick still out. If I give him this shirt – if I let him keep going – then I know what will happen. I look away.
“I don’t know, Luke . . .” Luke grabs me by the shirt, throws his lips over mine and, pulling away, growls in my ear, “Tell me you don’t want this.” As he waits, his hand is sliding down my front, down to my flopped-down dress, my pussy. He grabs it and repeats, “Go on, tell me.” Slipping under my dress, he rips off my panties, lets them drop to the floor. Then he pulls the rest of the dress down so that my bottom half, my bare pussy and ass are fully exposed.
Luke takes my hand. “Come here.” He yanks me down the hallway, towards the end, where his room is. Where he’s going to fuck me. “You can keep the shirt,” he says as we walk.
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