The New Rule: (The Casual Rule 2)

by AC Netzel

  The way she says “The Club” sounds like nails down a chalkboard.

  I casually peek at the couple who are lying out in lounge chairs in front of the next cabana over. The woman is reading the gossip magazine, Hollywood Chatter. That’s perfectly acceptable reading material in my book. The guy is listening to his iPod. I don’t know what Bev’s beef is… they look normal to me. Maybe that’s her gripe… they’re from this decade.

  “Mother, don’t be so judgmental. They look like nice people,” Ben reprimands, frowning.

  “I’m on my way to Miriam Wilson’s cabana to play Mahjong with the ladies. Ben, you must drop by and say hello. Miriam was asking about you.”

  “Of course, Mother. A little later,” he says.

  “Fine. I expect to see you there. Your father is on the golf course. Elizabeth and Stuart took your grandmother to watch a croquet tournament on the field near the tennis courts. I’ll tell the ladies you’re dropping by. Make sure you’re there,” his mother reminds him.

  Does she think he’s not capable of retaining the information she just spit out five seconds earlier? She walks away before Ben can respond.

  “You have no intention of seeing those women, do you?” I ask.

  “Not a fucking chance in hell. How did you know?”

  “Your lips twitch when you lie.”

  “Do they?”

  “They do.”

  “Remind me not to play poker with you.”

  “I will. Why are you avoiding them?”

  “When I turned seventeen, Miriam Wilson offered herself to me as a birthday gift.” He shakes his head. “I turned her down. She hits on all the young guys. I don’t want to go anywhere near that pathetic woman.”

  “Your mother’s friend hit on you? When you were just a teenager? I guess your mother doesn’t know this information.”

  “I sure as hell didn’t tell her.”

  “That’s pretty gross.”

  He laughs. “Yeah, I screwed her daughter instead.”

  I stick my fingers in my ears and hum. “La, la, la. I don’t want to hear about your past conquests.”

  Some people have this need to know every detail of their significant other’s sexual past. I’m not wired that way. Just thinking of him touching anyone else drives me crazy.

  He shakes his head and smiles. “Let’s relax before the rest of my family finds us.”

  I have a better idea… how about we leave before the rest of your family finds us.

  Ben grabs two lounge chairs and moves them next to each other. I remove my cover-up, and he takes off his T-shirt. Then I stare.

  And stare.

  And stare.

  No matter how many times I’ve seen Ben sans shirt, I still swoon. His six-pack abs, that oh-so-fucking sexy “V”, the tiny patch of chest hair that I’m dying to rake my fingernails through… every steely contour of his muscles I want to touch… with the tip of my tongue. I’d think after a few months of having him, the lust would wear off… but honestly, every time I see him like this, it’s hard to keep myself from straddling him.

  One thing I know for sure... I will never fall out of lust for Ben Martin. Even if he were old and flabby, there’s something about him—an energy, an invisible magnetism—something special that will always weaken me.

  “Damn, you look good,” he whispers to me. “Next time we’re alone, I want you to wear that bikini for me.”

  “Why? You’re just going to take it off.”

  “Julia, I’m going to rip it off you. You look so fucking hot right now. I wish we were alone.”

  I look back to the cabana/shack, then back at Ben with an arched brow. “What do you say? Cabana quickie?”

  “I like the way you think.” His index finger traces small circles down my arm. His touch sets me on fire and my nipples stand at attention. He leans across to kiss me.

  “Ben! Ben!” A distant shrill kills the mood.

  He sighs, straightens himself out and waves politely. Elizabitch is making her way to us, flailing her arms like a lunatic. Relax honey, we’re not blind. We see you just fine. Stuart is pushing their grandmother in a wheelchair. And right next to him is my least favorite person in the galaxy, Cam-eel.

  Great, I get to spend the day with the Bitch Twins.

  We stand and greet the Welcoming Committee.

  “Julia, so pleasant to see you again,” Stuart exclaims. I’ve met Stuart once before. I think I have a good feeling for his fashion sense. Rainbows, glitter, and unicorns. He’s wearing bright yellow too-short swim trunks with one of those novelty T-shirts imprinted with a muscular male torso. It’s pretty funny, seeing that the image of the body is the polar opposite of Stuart’s real physique.

  It’s probably the closest he can get to another male’s torso pressing against his. I’m shocked Elizabitch allowed it. That’s almost for certain his allotment of fun for the year.

  Cam-eel is standing in four-inch high-heeled white sandals in a red, white, and blue bikini. There’s a shiny gold star on each triangle barely covering her tits.

  I bet Betsy Ross is turning in her grave right now.

  Seriously, that’s the outfit you choose? In front of families you grew up with? All she needs are singles tucked in her barely-covers-her-ass bikini bottom to complete the stripper look she’s evidently aiming for. She bats her eyelashes while her over-bleached toothy white smile beams at Ben.

  “Ben!” She rushes over to him, hugs him and kisses his cheek. “So good to see you,” she says, her voice low and breathy.

  “Camille, I didn’t know you were coming to the Hamptons this weekend,” he says, unfazed by her outfit and seductive tone.

  I love my boyfriend.

  “Last minute decision,” she explains.

  Last minute… my ass. She had this planned from the minute Elizabitch told her Ben was coming here. She turns to me. Her expression immediately transforms into her woman-hating puss face.

  You’re not happy I’m here? That makes two of us.

  “Oh,” she says flatly, her lips pursed. “Hello, Julia.”

  Yeah, fuck you too.

  “Camille.” I nod in her direction. That’s all this shrew-who-wants-my man is getting out of me. I exchange polite hellos with Elizabitch and the GIND then walk over to Ben’s grandmother.

  Over the past few months, I’ve joined Ben a few times when he visited his grandmother, Kitty, at her apartment in Manhattan. She’s the only person in Ben’s family who I like. Kitty Martin is strong-willed, warm and has a wonderful dry wit. Most importantly, she adores Ben, which makes me adore her.

  She looks so tiny and frail, sitting in the wheelchair with her big-brimmed straw hat and dark sunglasses. I peek over at Ben and see a hint of sadness hidden behind his smile as he talks to her.

  Her health has been slowly declining. I know he worries about her. She’s been the only real constant in his life. The rest of his family members are self-absorbed. They’re wrapped up in their own lives and what the world could do for them, and let him slide through the cracks. His father buried himself in his company. His mother was looking for ways to improve her stature in her social circles. Elizabitch was so wrapped up in her agenda.

  Except for his grandparents. From everything he’s told me about them, they were wonderful to him. With his grandfather gone, his grandmother is all he has left. I pray she stays around a long, long time… for Ben’s sake as much as hers.

  “Hi, Mrs. Martin. It’s so good to see you again.” I lean down and kiss her cheek.

  She grabs hold of my hand. “Julia, I’m so happy you and Leonard made it. Sit by me. We’ll catch up.” I cringe a little. I hate when she calls Ben Leonard, it’s sucking all his sexy away.

  I quickly glance at his six-pack abs… okay, sexy restored.

  “Sure, Mrs. Martin.” I roll her wheelchair next to my lounger. We catch up on the few things we found we have in common while sitting on a park bench in Central Park: making stories up about random people as they walk b
y.

  Ben is busying himself; catching up with Elizabitch, Stuart, and the Star Spangled Psycho.

  As we’re making up stories about the hairiest man I’ve ever seen jumping in the pool, I catch Ben, pretending he’s listening to Cam-eel yammering on and on. His head’s cocked to the side, and he’s smiling at me.

  Our gazes meet, and he winks.

  I look down and smile. I look back up toward him, holding my free hand up to my heart, and wink back.

  I direct my attention back to Ben’s grandmother. She smiles knowingly and squeezes my hand tighter.

  ~o0o~

  After about an hour, the entire Martin family is back at the cabana except for his father.

  “Where’s your dad?”

  “Still on the golf course, I guess. He usually disappears once we’re here. My mother finds her lady friends. My father plays golf. Would you like to play sometime?”

  “Golf?”

  “I can give you a few pointers.”

  “Ben, the only golf I play is miniature golf. Unless your golf course has a windmill or giant clown mouth to putt a golf ball through, forget it.”

  He laughs. “So, that’s a no?”

  “That’s a big, fat, not-a-chance-in-hell no.”

  “There’s always surf fishing in Montauk,” he teases. He knows that’ll never happen.

  “Picture me in waders, holding a fishing pole. That sounds like me,” I say sarcastically.

  “Someday I’ll find a sport you’re willing to participate in.”

  “I already have one, Lover.” I wrap my fingers around his index finger and pump them up and down, imitating a hand job.

  He swallows hard. “You drive me crazy. You better stop that before everyone knows just how crazy.” He glances down at his crotch. He’s right, no need for the family to experience Ben in all his aroused glory. I unwind my fingers, bringing my hand to my mouth, biting my thumbnail.

  Now I’m horny, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

  ~o0o~

  We’re soaking up the sunshine in our lounge chairs, lulled by the white noise of distant chatter from other Club members and splashing sounds from the pool. Ben’s mother and grandmother are conversing behind us at a table inside the cabana, away from the sun.

  “Who wants to join us in the pool?” Stuart asks.

  Oh God, not me. I close my eyes tight and pretend I’m sleeping.

  “I will,” Cam-eel exclaims. “Ben, join us.”

  Gee, Thanks for the invite.

  The last thing I want is Ben joining that woman-hating, Ben-worshipping Star-Spangled Psycho, but I have to trust him. I crack an eye open just enough so I can watch.

  “Thanks, but I’m going to stay here with Julia,” he says.

  She frowns. “She’s sleeping, Ben. Come on, for old times’ sake. It’ll be fun,” she whines. “Pretty please.”

  Old times’ sake? Is she kidding me? I’m not stupid. Or blind. I know her version of “old times’ sake” is Ben banging her senseless. I’m bright red, and it has nothing to do with sunburn. I’m going to take this bitch down.

  “Thanks. I’ll pass. Elizabeth and Stuart can keep you company,” he says matter-of-factly, as he goes back to reading his book.

  Take a hint, honey. He doesn’t want you.

  “Are you sure?”

  Give it up, wench.

  He nods, burying his nose in his book. She huffs and sashays her ass as she walks past him toward the pool. He looks up for a second, then goes back to his reading.

  Okay, he is a man. It’s not like he can shut off the testosterone at will. He’s going to check out any girl who shamelessly parades her ass in front of him. I’m letting that one slide.

  “Did I pass?” he asks.

  One annoying thing about the fact that Ben is a writer is that he’s so damned observant. He knew I was listening.

  “You checked out her ass,” I grumble.

  “I saw cellulite.”

  I laugh. “Okay, you’re off the hook for that offense. Just remember who you belong to.”

  “Possessive today, aren’t we?” he teases.

  “Does that bother you?”

  “Not at all. Next time we’re alone, I’ll show you just how much you own me.”

  “I look forward to it,” I say, closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep.

  ~o0o~

  “Julia, are you hungry?”

  “Is this a trick question? Am I ever not hungry?”

  “I’m going to the Snack Shack across the pool. Hot dog and fries sound good to you?”

  “Perfect.”

  I’m surprised they serve ordinary food. I’d think hot dogs would be too pedestrian for this haughty crowd. I figured they had a caviar and lobster bar.

  “There’s a long line. Stay here and relax. I’ll be right back.”

  I watch Ben walk around the pool toward the Snack Shack. He stops occasionally to shake hands with a few club members relaxing around the pool area. I notice a few girls turn their heads as he passes them. Some stop him and say hello. He smiles politely and stops for some small talk then continues.

  I discreetly peek over at the lounge chair Cam-eel has herself stationed on. She has not stopped staring at him as he walks across the property. It’s creepy; like she’s a stalker in a trance.

  I watch him talk to these random girls. Some are polite and friendly, like old friends saying hello. Others are blatantly flirting with him, twisting their hair in a loop around their fingers, touching his arm as they speak... looking for a connection. I begin to feel uncomfortable. I wonder how many of these women have slept with Ben. How many of them are staring at me, whispering about me, like I’m just another number?

  I hate that they may know him, his hard muscular body, his soft caresses, the taste of his kisses, the exquisite feel of him inside... Things I wish only belonged to me. And I know I’m hypocritical. Ben isn’t my only, but I can’t help the way I feel. Ben wasn’t exactly a man-whore, but he was far from a monk.

  Stuart walks over and sits down on the edge of Ben’s lounge chair, temporarily halting my errant thoughts. Good God, his swim shorts are so short, his balls are peeking out at me. Where’s the nut-netting that’s supposed to hold the boys in place and out of public view to protect innocent bystanders? Lucky me. I look away quickly, desperate to stare anywhere but at the pink hairy nuggets displayed in all its nut-sack glory inches in front of me.

  “Are you okay? You look a little lost,” he asks quietly, carefully watching Elizabitch read a book three lounge chairs away.

  “I’m fine. Thanks. We lucked out with the weather this weekend, didn’t we?” I ask, attempting to change the subject. I don’t want to talk about my thoughts on Ben and who he banged before me.

  Don’t look at his balls. Don’t look at his balls.

  “Yes, we did,” he answers, looking toward the Snack Shack then back to me. “You know, I’ve been a part of this family for a long time. Elizabeth and I have been together almost fifteen years,” he says quietly.

  I fight the urge to look down but fail miserably. My eyes zero in right on his man junk, his balls resting against the lounge chair, like a pair of fuzzy gelatinous peaches. I catch myself.

  Eyes, Julia, look at his eyes.

  “That’s a long time,” I say.

  “I came from a very strict upbringing. My family had certain expectations of me. At times, it was difficult. My parents have stringent beliefs. They weren’t accepting of anything that went against their principles.” He drifts off briefly, looking a little lost in his thought then changes tack.

  I put Ball-Gate aside and give him my full attention as he continues.

  “I love my parents. I’d do anything to make them happy. I tutored Elizabeth in biology when we were in school. We met at my house so I could help her on a project. It was for her midterm grade. Being her tutor, I felt a responsibility to help her. My parents thought she was my girlfriend.” He shrugs. “At the time, I never dated a
nyone but I discovered that having her around pleased them. We became an official couple soon after. It may not be fireworks, but it works for us. She’s a good person, once you get to know her. But sometimes she does things I may not approve of.”

  “Oh, I know…” He cuts me off.

  “I’m aware that Elizabeth has these grand plans for Ben. And she may make you feel uncomfortable. It’s not that she dislikes you… it’s just Camille has been her best friend for years. And Camille has a thing for… Well, I don’t have to spell it out; I think it’s obvious. But I want you to know something. These girls who threw themselves at him never meant anything to him. It was just fun. Nothing serious. Even Camille, although she’s in a permanent state of denial. It’s different with you.”

  “Different, how?”

  “Just different. He’s better with you. He never seemed…” He pauses, thoughtfully looking up to the sky, searching for the right word. “Content. He was always searching for something he was missing. That’s probably the reason he…” He stops his thought. He doesn’t have to say it. I get it. It’s why he had so many hook-ups. “Anyway, I’m glad he found you. I’ve known him since he was thirteen. Women have always thrown themselves at him, even at that young age. I love him like he was my own brother. You are good for him. I want you to know that.”

  I look down at my lap, my eyes misting up. Stuart’s kind words came out of nowhere, and it was exactly what I needed to hear.

  I look across the pool to the Snack Shack where Ben is waiting for our food order. I catch him staring at me with a look bewilderment in his eyes. It’s the kind of look that melts you from the inside out.

  There are no grand gestures made or anything said. Just a simple look that takes my breath away. Butterflies flutter in my stomach, and I think to myself “What did I do right to deserve this beautiful man?”

  I realize something. He is mine; only mine… his body, his caress, the taste of his kisses… they belong to me because he loves me. Others may have scratched the surface, but only I know him intimately. Truly intimately. There may have been others before that held his body, but I’m the only one who holds his heart. It’s the one thing he never gave to anyone else.