Surrendering to Innocence

by Amalie Silver

  “Yeah, what’s up?”

  “Well I’ll be there early—around three o’clock—setting up the backdrop and flowers around the gymnasium. I was wondering if you could get there a little early to help me out. You could bring the brochures, too. You got all the awards information I sent you, right?”

  “Yep, I’m looking at the design right now.” On my computer, I was just plugging in the names of the students, double checking the spellings of each when she’d called. “It shouldn’t be a problem getting there early. I’ll just have to make sure that Jake has a ride.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow night at the PTA meeting and we can finalize our plans then,” said Darcy.

  “Thanks for calling. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  After typing the names of three hundred students, I got to the Awards section. Valedictorian was the first one. I double checked the name a few times, not realizing what I was seeing. Joel Watson.

  Watson isn’t even his first name.

  Joel.

  Joel.

  I hit save and copied the file onto a flash drive, getting it ready to take to the print center.

  “Hey, Mom! I’m home!” I heard Jake holler from the entry. His voice boomed through the house, startling me, and I clumsily slapped my mug onto its side, breaking the porcelain. The steaming coffee drained out of the cup straight onto my keyboard.

  “Dammit! No!” I picked up my coffee mug and swiftly grabbed a hand towel from the laundry basket.

  Jake walked in as I was sopping up the coffee from my desk. “Hey, what happened?”

  Wiping the tear from my eye, I shouted, “I broke my mug. My favorite mug!”

  “Ma, it’s okay.”

  “No! It’s not,” I said, putting angry pressure on my keyboard, dabbing and wiping.

  “Mom. Stop.”

  “This was your first drawing! You were four! You were so damn proud of this drawing, and I don’t know where the original artwork is. I wanted to keep this memory here forever…”

  “Mom?”

  I lifted my head, trying to keep my chin from quivering, and wiped my nose.

  “Oh. Hi,” I muttered, seeing a stunning young blond standing next to my son.

  “Mom, this is Jenn.”

  I nodded, a smile spreading across my face. “Jenn.”

  She was vibrant.

  Her hair curtained her face as she kept her head down. Tentative, she stood slightly behind Jake, keeping his hand firm in her grasp. “Hello, Ms. Cole. It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said nervously, reaching her hand out toward me.

  “Oh, honey. My hands are all sticky from my coffee. Hang on!”

  I ran to the bathroom and washed my hands. Quickly, I dried them and turned back toward my son and his girlfriend in the hall. “I’m so sorry. Hello, Jenn. It’s wonderful to finally meet you, too.” I smiled warmly and extended my hand. “Have you two eaten yet? I was about to order some pizza,” I said enthusiastically, shaking her hand.

  “Sounds great,” they said in unison, then giggled.

  I sighed. They’re perfect.

  #

  “So, Ma. I was hoping to take Jenn out tomorrow. It’s the last day of school, and we wanted to celebrate,” he said, then stuffed half a piece of pizza in his mouth.

  “That sounds nice. What’s your plan?”

  “Nuffin majo.” His voice was muffled with a full mouth.

  Jenn giggled. “Allow me, baby.” She winked and Jake wiped his mouth with a napkin, laughing. “We wanted to go to a movie, maybe dinner?” she stated in a questioning tone.

  I nodded. Jake swallowed and picked up his glass. “And,” he began and took a large swig, “I was hoping I could sleep over at her house.”

  I choked out my soda, not knowing how to respond.

  “But not if you’re in any way uncomfortable with it,” Jenn added quickly.

  “What about your parents? Are they okay with that arrangement?” I asked.

  “Yes. I mean, they know Jake, and they love him to death. They know he’s…special to me.” She shrugged, tugging the hair back behind her ear and looking bashful at her confession.

  My little boy is all grown up. I think I’m gonna cry.

  Shit. Too late. I’m crying.

  “Mom. Don’t cry. Please.”

  I nodded and brought my plate to the sink so they couldn’t see my eyes water. “It’s fine. Go ahead. But please call if you drink too much or need a ride. I’m always here, honey. Always.”

  He smiled and walked toward me. “Love you, Ma,” he whispered and kissed my cheek.

  I sniffed. “Go. Go have fun. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

  “It was nice meeting you, Ms. Cole.”

  “Please, call me Christine,” I said, extending my hand again to shake hers. “It was nice to meet you too, Jenn.”

  I turned to walk to my room, and Jake jogged up to me. “Oh, Mom. I was gonna tell you: Watson said he could come over tomorrow and take a look at your computer. I texted him when you were ordering the pizza. He’s kind of a whiz with that kind of stuff.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s great. Thanks.” I smiled awkwardly, and my stomach screeched at the thought of seeing Watson for the first time in over a week.

  Chapter 11

  After picking up the graduation brochures from the printers at lunchtime, I headed straight home. I had no idea when Watson was supposed to arrive, but school got out around three o’clock, so I knew I had some time.

  I was gonna catch hell from Darcy over missing the PTA meeting, but I really didn’t care. I needed something more in my life, and I was convinced that Watson had the answer.

  I called Darcy, secretly thanking Jesus that her voicemail picked up, and left her a message pretending I was sick.

  I hopped in the shower and shaved every inch of my body. After drying off, I ran to my closet to pick out something to wear. Casual. Gotta keep it casual.

  After picking out a set of matching bra and panties, I chose a pair of comfortable jeans and a white chenille button-down sweater. I dried my hair and gathered it on the top of my head, just after applying some lip gloss and mascara.

  #

  A quarter past five, the doorbell rang. I jumped up from the couch and fumbled with the remote control to turn off the TV.

  “Coming,” I yelped, continuing to fondle the remote control like I was giving it a handjob.

  “Stupid…red…button. Turn off!” After finally succeeding, I ran to the door.

  Watson gave me his signature quirky smile and held up a tool box. “Yes, ma’am. I’m here to look at a computer.”

  I returned a smile and opened the door wider. “Upstairs. Thank you so much for helping me out. I need this fixed by Monday or I’ll have to buy a new one.”

  “Well, let’s take a peek, shall we?”

  I followed him to my office and watched as his hands moved swiftly, unscrewing the casing of my keyboard. He removed several small parts, examining them and putting them back in their place.

  “While you’re here, I have a few other things around the house that you could help me out with,” I joked.

  “Like, swapping out the bulb in the kitchen that’s been burnt out since February? Or grabbing the ladder so you can clean the ceiling fan in the living room? Perhaps help you bake a batch of your gluten-frees?”

  Holy shit. He has been paying attention. I blushed.

  “Well, since you’re here and I don’t have to pay you, I might as well put you to work, right?” I winked.

  He laughed, replacing the casing of my keyboard. “Well, Ms. Cole. You’re out of luck. You’re going to need a new keyboard.”

  “Just the keyboard? I didn’t ruin my entire computer?”

  “Nah. You’re fine.” He stood, wiping his hands together. “But you might want to vacuum out the dust in your hard drive. That might be a problem later on. You should do that a little more often.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  He followed m
e to the front door, and I tried to think of something to stall him from leaving.

  “Wait.”

  Oh, sweet Jesus. What am I doing? Let the boy go home. I shook my head. “Never mind.”

  He turned toward the door again and I reached around him to grab the knob. His breath caught and he flinched as my hand grazed the zipper on his jeans.

  Embarrassed that I’d gotten too close, I stood straight and looked to the floor. After clearing his throat, he began, “I…”

  My eyes searched his expectantly, waiting for him to ask if he could stay. Or that he’d changed his mind and had time to help me with the light in the kitchen. Or to kiss me. Anything. I just wanted more of him. Don’t leave.

  “I forgot my tools in your study,” he spouted awkwardly and ran up the steps to my office.

  Shit. Do I follow him?

  Then, I remembered. It all suddenly became obvious: the anticipation of a first kiss; that skin-tingling feeling whenever someone got close enough to smell their body soap radiating from their skin; wondering if I looked at him the way he looked at me, and whether or not it was interpreted the way I wanted. The way I needed.

  “Ms. Cole? Can you come up here?” he shouted from upstairs.

  I nodded without saying a word and slowly made my way up the steps.

  I knew why he was calling me; I didn’t have to guess. And although it had been years since I had been truly intimate with anyone, I hadn’t forgotten.

  These things, these signs—everything we’d said to each other for the past few weeks, the subtle gestures, the way two people act when they’re nervous around each other: raking our hands through our hair, shifting the weight under our feet and trying to come up with more to say so the other person wouldn’t leave, giggling, avoiding eye contact, and the burning—all of it.

  And he was just down the hall, waiting for me.

  I could see him standing in the center of the room through the small opening, and I stood, waiting to push the door open.

  “Anything wrong?” I stuttered, keeping my head down and fidgeting with the hem of my sweater.

  With his arms folded across his chest, his head snapped up at the sound of my voice, and he smirked when he saw my hesitation through the crack in the door. I gave the doorknob a nudge as I remained on the threshold, and he studied me. I stole a quick glance at him and his entire body softened. He was waiting for me to say it. But at that moment, I think I was probably more scared than he was.

  “Can we just be…honest for a second? You know, no games?” he said.

  I sighed and nodded, feeling the moisture pool between my thighs. This is really happening.

  My heart began to pound inside my chest and when I swallowed, it echoed in my ears. All of my senses seemed to heighten as I stared at this beautiful young man before me.

  These past weeks in landscaping had done their work: his shoulders were defined and his arms bulged from working manual labor, a small vein poking out of the center. The white T-shirt clung to his chest, defining his abdomen, and his jeans rested low on his hips, fraying at the hole in his knee and toward the ankle where the rest of the material gathered. His jaw was more defined, and his stubbled facial hair was darker. He hadn’t gotten his hair cut, and a few stray strands were now falling to his eyes, making him sweep it away more often than before. But even after noticing all of these things about him, I still couldn’t keep my eyes away from his lips—perfectly swollen, perfectly round, and soon-to-be perfectly mine.

  He took a few small steps toward me, never breaking eye contact. After wiping his hair from his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbed with a heavy swallow and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

  I shook my head and gave a small smile, closing the distance between us. After pulling one hand back out of his pocket, I whispered, “No games.”

  He stared at our hands and I heard him exhale. And without notice, his arms were around me and his lips were on mine.

  Oh, god. I’d imagined those lips. These forbidden, beautiful lips on mine for far too long. And no matter how far my imagination could’ve gone with it, I would’ve never been able to dream how perfectly they fit together. Slowly, he parted my mouth with his. And though his tongue was hesitant, his hands told me otherwise. He was already unbuttoning my jeans.

  We fumbled, making our way to my desk. His hands curved around my backside and my legs spread, allowing him to lift me on top of the table. Eagerly, I went for the fly of his jeans, and I could already see his erection tightening the denim. I wrapped my hands around his ass, feeling the taut muscles underneath his boxers, and slid his jeans down to his knees.

  “Lay down.” He spoke gently, taking me by surprise. Calming my nerves, I tried to ease myself down from the edge of my excitement by taking a deep breath and doing as he instructed. I lay back, letting my jeans and panties fall from my ankles completely, and instinctively covered myself with my hands.

  “No. I want to see you,” he said while moving my hands to my sides. He stared at my face for several seconds before his eyes wandered downward to my breasts. With his chest hovering above mine, he then slowly removed each button from its hole of my sweater, drinking in every moment of sexual tension.

  My belly tingled low, and I could feel my pulse in my neck. His scent wafted through the room as if it had been there hundreds of times before and felt at home here. With mine.

  I could feel his heavy breath on my stomach the second he opened my sweater, and after removing my bra carefully, the feel of his tongue between my breasts had my insides quivering for him to be inside me.

  “I want you,” I begged, sitting up and cradling his face in my hands. “Please.”

  A quiet laugh escaped him as he entwined his fingers with mine, removing my hands from his cheeks. “Christine.” He smiled. “You and I both know that this is going to be over pretty quickly the second I’m inside you.”

  I swallowed. The thought alone awakened a primal need inside me, making my breath stutter, catching in the back of my throat. He brought the back of my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “I might’ve stood a chance of five minutes with anyone else, but with you we’ll be lucky if we get two,” he whispered, kissing my fingers. “Come on. Let’s go to the bedroom.” He smiled and nudged his head toward the hall.

  #

  “Are you ready?” I whispered.

  Standing naked next to the bed, his breathing slowed and his deep brown eyes bored into mine. He slowly blinked once, and after an audible swallow, he nodded. “I just want you to know something,” he murmured, crawling between my thighs. Grazing his knuckles over my pink nipples, he whispered something into my neck, sending another wave of shivers down my arms.

  “What did you say?” I asked breathlessly, feeling his erection swell against my clit.

  He aligned his face with mine, giving me the look of a frightened boy. Putting his arms on either side of my head, his maturing muscles caressing my cheeks, he whispered again, “This really is my first time. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  I nodded and positioned myself directly under him. The tip of his cock pressed against my entrance and I gasped at how sensitive I was already. The aching and selfish need for this young man was overwhelming, and I knew the guilt of being with a boy barely out of high school would thrash against my conscience forever.

  But I had to have him.

  His finger traced along my curves, from my breast to my hip, but he never took his eyes off mine.

  “I know,” I said.

  I gently held his shaft and a soft moan could be heard from the back of his throat. Then I submerged his tip inside of me and pulled it back out, spreading my wetness over both of us.

  “Are you ready, then?”

  He nodded. “I’m ready.”

  “Good,” I replied, and thrust him inside me.

  “Wait. I want you to come first,” he replied quickly and withdrew.

  I threw my head back in agony—in escape; in ecstasy—as his head slid
down to my navel. His tongue darted out briefly as he descended downward. With one finger, he swept lightly across my clit, and I shuddered with a moan. I idly wondered if he was just stalling.

  His eyelids were heavy, but the moonlight shining through the window was enough to see that he was eagerly enjoying the task. And after licking his lips and a devilish smirk, his tongue went straight down to my skin, causing a gasp to tickle the back of my throat. My nipples hardened instantly, and I couldn’t pull my fingers away from them as he continued his sensual tease below. His tongue, now buried inside me, begged me to come as his fingers massaged my rosy flesh.