by Renee Fowler
I love the quality of her voice like this, low and throaty. Sometimes she hums a little under her breath when she’s getting close. Her face and chest glows a beautiful rosy blush. “I love you.”
We must say that to each other a dozen times or more before she grabs around my shoulders and buries her face against my neck. Penny breaks quietly, a few short whimpers that end in hushed, incoherent muttering, but there’s no mistaking the way her body arches to mine, or the vice-like squeeze around my cock.
“Are you sure you want me to do this, Penny.”
“Yes. God. Please. Oh, Please.”
It almost doesn’t feel right to ask her now while she is still in the grip of her release, but I am too far gone. To hear a beautiful woman beg for your cum, one you just happen to be madly in love with… well, it does something to a man. As does the feel of her nails grazing down my back and digging in around my hips.
My forehead is pressed against hers when I shudder. Biting into her lower lip, Penny shivers beneath me and grins.
“Was it everything you hoped?” I ask, laughing lightly.
“Everything and more.” Penny wears a relaxed smile while her fingertips skitter along the back of my shoulder. She wiggles her hips beneath me, and her face screws up. “Kind of messy.”
“Nothing a shower can’t fix.”
By the time we have showered together and gotten ready for bed, it’s very late. Luckily neither of us have to be anywhere the next morning, although I suspect Penny will still wake at the crack of dawn. She is a creature of habit like that.
Penny sits up against the padded headboard of her bed, staring at the painting. I scooch down in bed and press my ear against the top of her thigh so I’m the perfect distance away. “Have you gotten tired of it yet?” I ask.
“Not yet.”
I tilt my head up to see her face. “Was John really your only boyfriend?”
“Uh huh. I wasn’t a virgin when I met him, but I had never bothered to have a relationship before.”
“Why?”
“Between rehearsal, practice, performances, plus I worked other odd jobs, I never really had time.” Penny hums a gentle laugh. “It never interested me for a while either. And the first time I had sex, it was boring and it kind of hurt. I didn’t really see the point in doing that again.”
My eyes spring open wide. “You only had sex one time before you were twenty five?”
“Yes. Is that bad?”
“No,” I say cautiously. “It’s just a bit surprising. How old were you the first time?”
“Twenty one.”
“Really?”
“I was always so afraid of getting pregnant because it would mean I’d have to give up dancing. Plus I went to a private school that was mostly all girls, and I never really met anyone else besides that interested me much.”
“So who was the lucky first guy, if he wasn’t your boyfriend?”
“We worked together. We were friends, sort of. I didn’t know anyone else as old as me who was still a virgin, so I thought I should do something about it, and when I asked him if he wanted to have sex, he said okay.”
“You just went up and asked him?”
Penny nods.
I try and fail to hold back a huge, amused grin. “You walked up to a friend from work and asked if he would be willing to help you get rid of a pesky little thing called your virginity?”
“No, I didn’t tell him I was a virgin. I probably should have. He got a bit mad that I didn’t inform him beforehand, but I guess he wasn’t too mad because he asked me if I wanted to have sex again a few days later.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“No, thanks.”
I laugh hard.
“Why are you laughing at me?” Penny asks.
The smile slides off my face in an instant. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m just… Oh, Penny.” I sit up to kiss her. A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I break my lips off hers. “Now I’m starting to think you’re just making up for lost time.”
Penny blinks at me a few times. “Do you think I want to have sex with you too much?”
I shake my head quickly, and kiss around her neck until she’s laughing. “I never said that. Not once.”
“I guess I was a late bloomer. I changed from the person I used to be, but so did you.” Penny slides down in bed and prompts me to stretch out beside her so we are both laying sideways, pressed belly to belly. “You used to be mean, Liam.”
“Because I called you Penelope? Maybe it was a bit rude, but I wasn’t being mean, Penny. That wasn’t my intention anyways.”
“No, not because of that.”
“Then what?”
Penny presses her lips together, and her eyes go a bit hazy, like she’s deep in thought. “Sometimes, when you’re trying to fall asleep, does something really awful from your past pop into your mind. It’s so embarrassing, and it makes you-” Penny pauses to wrinkle her nose and scrunch up her face. “It makes you cringe from head to toe.”
“I suppose?”
“Like what?”
“Hmmm.” I laugh lightly and try to think. “Okay. I can’t remember how old I was exactly, young but not very young. I accidentally called my teacher Maman. I couldn’t tell you why. She didn’t look a thing like my mother, but it just popped out. I’m sure you can imagine how the other little boys reacted to that.”
“Oh, no.” Penny half pouts, half giggles.
“All these years later, it still makes me cringe a little when I remember it,” I admit.
“I have a few of those kind of memories. A lot really.”
“I think everyone does.”
Penny nibbles on her bottom lip, and gives me an intense, unblinking stare. “You were one of those cringy memories for me.”
“I was?”
She nods slowly.
“We have met before,” I say. Penny had appeared a bit familiar to me that first day Andrea introduced us, but I couldn’t place her. Stroking the side of her face, I stare deeply into her eyes.“I can’t believe I forgot about you. It doesn’t seem possible.”
“It was a long time ago. More than ten years ago.” Penny sucks in a stuttering breath, and pushes her words out in a rush. “I was eighteen, and I’d only recently been hired on by the company, and one of the lead dancers was injured right near the end of the last act, and I just happened to look a lot like her, so before I know what’s going on, I’m on stage, with you, and you were not very happy that I didn’t know the role well, although I never had the chance to rehearse it beforehand, which I think you understood, but maybe not.” She pauses to take a few breaths, then stares at my mouth. “You were a jerk,” she states plainly.
“It was Manon,” I whisper, feeling a bit like I’ve had the wind knocked out of me. “Oh, Penny. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. That was-”
“A long time ago.”
“Yes, but it was still uncalled for. There’s no excuse for me behaving that way, but I… I let things go to my head a bit back then, and I was… I am in no way trying to excuse what I did, but that wasn’t even about you, Penny. It really wasn’t. There was so much going on in my life, and going through my head at that time. If I had any common sense, I would’ve never gotten on stage that night, but I didn’t really know what else to do with myself.”
Penny cradles my face in her hands, waiting patiently while I try to find the words.
“I don’t remember where Elise was at. I think we were taking a break around that time, but I had just found out earlier the same day that my brother died, and at that point, he was the only family I had left, but I couldn’t get a flight out until the next morning. The thought of sitting alone, waiting and thinking, it was beyond me. And I had never missed a performance before.” I pause to laugh joylessly under my breath. “One thing after another kept happening, like the universe was telling me to just go home, but I didn’t listen. I was almost late. I got caught in traffic. A bird shit on me while I was walking in. I’m not kidd
ing about that either.”
“I’m sorry, Liam.”
“Penny, don’t apologize to me. I’m the one who-”
“I’m still sorry that you lost your brother, and a bird shit on you, and all the other bad things that happened.”
“I’m sorry I was such an ass. You didn’t deserve it, no matter what else was going on in my life.” I pause to kiss her forehead. “No wonder you hated me when I first came to the GCB.”
“I didn’t hate you. I just thought you were an egotistical jerk.”
I chuff a laugh under my breath. “Hopefully your opinion of me has improved a little since then.”
“It’s improved a lot.” She leans forward to press a tiny kiss to the tip of my nose, and her thumbs stroke lightly across my cheeks. “What happened to your brother?”
“He died in a car accident.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago now.”
“Were you close?”
I tilt my head back and forth a little. “We drifted apart for a long time, but after he met Cate and moved to the states, we were closer again.”
“Was he older or younger?”
“Older. He was four years older.”
“What was his name?”
“Remi.”
“Remi. That’s a nice name.” Penny pauses to press her lips together into a tight line. “If I’m asking too many questions, you can tell me to shut up.”
“You’re not.”
“That goes for other things too. Sometimes I don’t realize when someone wants me to shut up. I’d rather you just tell me to shut up than get mad about it.”
I chuckle lightly. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
Chapter 22
Penny
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” I ask Liam, running the brush through my hair in long, quick strokes. “You can bail out, and I would totally understand.”
“Is your stepfather really that awful?”
I shrug. “Awful is a relative term, isn’t it?”
Liam comes up behind me and rests his hands lightly on my shoulders. He presses a chaste kiss against the side of my neck and meets my eyes in the mirror. “Give me something to work with here.”
I study his face for a minute and frown. “Are you nervous?”
“A little.”
“Why?”
Liam turns me around so we’re facing one another. He finagles the brush out of my hand so he can run it through my hair for me. “I mean, you’re taking me home to meet your family. It’s kind of a big deal, isn’t it?”
“Oh. I just invited you because I didn’t think you had anywhere to go for thanksgiving.”
Liam’s mouth falls open, and he stops brushing. I somehow sense I’ve said the wrong thing. It’s confirmed for me when he leans back away from me and says, “Don’t feel obligated to have me tag along, Penny. I’m not from here, remember? Thanksgiving isn’t something I grew up celebrating.”
Wetting my lips, I scour his face and replay the conversation in an attempt to find out what went wrong. “I want you to come.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I’m positive. I want you there with me. I love you, Liam.”
“I love you too.”
I’ve lost count of the times Liam has said those words to me, but I can’t ever recall them said in that specific inflection. Flat. Emotionless. Begrudgingly.
At the door, when we’re getting ready to depart, Liam holds my coat out for me to shrug on, but doesn’t touch me otherwise. He is unusually quiet as he drives. I stare out the window and try not to cry. I don’t doubt that Liam loves me now, but for how long? This is unbearable. It really is.
I twist halfway in my seat to face him. “Something is wrong.”
“What makes you say that, Penny?”
“How you said my name just now, and the fact that you’re not talking, and the way the muscle in your jaw moves right here.” I smooth my thumb across the tense spot. “You would tell me if I did something wrong, wouldn’t you?”
Liam takes his eyes off the road for a second to look at me. The line between his eyebrows deepens, and another forms. He still looks beautiful, but confused. Liam looks as confused as I feel. After an agonizingly long pause, he smiles, laughs, and shakes his head. “Penny, I thought this was you taking me home to meet your father.”
“Foster isn’t my father.”
“I understand that, but… Nevermind.”
We have almost arrived at Foster’s home when I have an epiphany. I angle myself towards Liam again. “If I had a father, I would gladly take you to meet him.”
“Okay, Penny.”
“Seriously. The only people whose opinion I value are Paige, Seth and Carrie, Andrea a bit, and you’ve met all of them. They all adore you, so…”
Liam gives my hand a light squeeze. “Really, it’s okay.”
I can’t tell if it is really okay or not. My stomach pretzels at the notion that this small misunderstanding is just the beginning. I fear all those little hurts that are sure to pile up over weeks and months until Liam says at some point in the future, Hmmm. And when I ask what that particular Hmmm means, he’ll say, I think I was wrong about you Penny Abbott. You’re too strange for me to love after all. Or maybe he won’t say Hmmm at all. Perhaps Liam will run out and find a more suitable replacement for me, like John had, and let me learn of our incompatibility in the cruelest way possible.
“Hopefully Paige behaves herself,” I say, as much to fill the silence as to give Liam a heads up. “Apparently she doesn’t care for Foster’s new girlfriend.”
“Why not?” he asks, in his usual voice, with no hint of veiled hurt or anger.
“Paige thinks she’s too young for him.”
“Ah.” Liam taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “What does Paige think about the two of us?”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, I’m almost fourteen years older than you, Penny.”
“That’s not a very big difference, is it?”
Liam’s laugh is part sigh. “It doesn’t feel like much of a difference when we’re together, but it’s not something I’ve made a habit of in the past.”
“Oh.” I run my palms over the slightly fuzzy fabric of my sweater. “Does it bother you? Do you wish I was older?”
Liam’s laugh doesn’t involve any sigh this time. “I like you just fine the way you are, Penny, but I hate to be seen as one of those guys, you know?”
I’m not sure exactly what he means. Maybe he doesn’t want to be seen as someone like Foster? “In any case, Paige likes you a lot, but she’s never asked how old you are. I don’t think it matters, and I don’t think she would care one way or the other.”
I’ve warned Liam ahead of time about Foster’s ridiculously big house full of gaudy and overpriced objects so he doesn’t react when we glide through the gated entrance.
Liam had laughed when I’d begged him not to assume things about me based on Foster, or the way he lives. In my mind, it’s almost obscene to be smack dab in the middle of such opulence when there are others who go without.
It’s also downright uncomfortable. The rooms are too large. There’s too much empty space to get lost in. When I was young, I used to sit and read in my closet, which was very large for a closet, but small in comparison to the vastness of my bedroom.
Sitting in wide open spaces makes me feel vulnerable in a way I can’t articulate, so I’ve never tried. I much preferred my small dormitory room at school, even though the girl I was forced to reside with didn’t care for me much. No one there did. I was too strange, and too quiet. It wasn’t until fourteen or so that I perfected the art of mindless conversation. Teenage girls are a strange tribe, but I eventually learned how to approximate a believable version and infiltrate their little circles.
Foster greets us at the door. I accept his embrace stiffly. He shakes Liam’s hand and invites us in. Paige and Cody are already there. Unlike
me, Paige has no trouble relaxing in this place. She can move effortlessly between this life of grandeur and the cluttered, dumpy loft she shares with Cody.
Paige doesn’t appear relaxed at all today though. She appears queasy and tense. I’m feeling a bit tense myself when Foster introduces us to his new girlfriend. Tense and confused and a little nervous that she might recognize me for some reason. Why should I be nervous in this scenario?
The problem is I’ve never encountered a situation like this before, personally in real life, and I’ve never seen it played out in literature or film either. So of course I muck it all up. “Hi, Car-ah,” I blurt out before we’re introduced.
She gives me a tight, toothless smile. Does she know who I am? Oh, god. This is so weird.
“Have you two met?” Foster asks.
“N-No, but I’ve seen her work,” I stammer.
Paige gives a loud, nasily laugh. “I never knew you were interested in lingerie models.”
Is that what she is? I never asked John, and he never offered that information. “I’m interested in all kinds of things,” I murmur.
Over the next hour Paige behaves fairly well. Cara is quiet. I’m surprised to find that Liam knows a lot about all the financial crap Foster like to blather on about. Cody amuses me with tales about the antics he got up to this past summer with my sister, a cross country trip where they slept in his car, a music festival where he was robbed, and they got seperated for nearly twelve hours. He speaks in a low voice, probably not interested in being overheard by Foster.
I drink a bit more wine than I should, but being in this house again is awful. The house that I spent holidays and summers in. The one that never felt like a home. The one my mother died in.
We were never extremely close in a mother-daughter way, but her death still nags at me. She was too young, only forty one, and the way she went was too tragic.
Foster has scrubbed away all traces of her. There are no pictures, and things have been redecorated and rearranged. I’m not surprised really or hurt by this. It’s to be expected. Four years is a long time, and I doubt he wants the reminder.
Cara looks so miserably uncomfortable and stiff at Foster’s side, like his little pet, I actually take pity on her. “So how did you two meet?” I ask, a nice and simple question.
