by Amber Burns
“For as long as I can remember it was my mom, me, my little brother and sister – my father was never in the picture for too long, and just before my sister was born he split for good.”
Astra’s hand brings my gaze down to her touch over my arm. I lift my hand hesitantly, grasping hers, waiting for the rejection that never comes.
“Even with him out of our lives, my mom wasn’t exactly caregiver material.” I swallow hard. “We practically raised ourselves – well, I did, and then I got out when my brother and sister were still pretty young.”
“Ryker,” my name falls off her lips and I finally look up, and she settles her free hand over my cheek. Her thumb caresses me, pressing me to continue.
“I hated her. I hated them. My idea of family is looking over your shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to fall,” my short laugh is sardonic, bitter – it tastes like bile too. “It’s pretty messed up.”
“There are clearly a lot of elements at play.” Astra speaking softly, she smiles, possibly for my benefit.
“She didn’t abuse me. The emotional neglect might as well have been blows. Sometimes it felt like we were four people forced together. I don’t ever want to feel like that again, as if someone else has to share their life with me, you know.” I shrug off the prickling fear, blinking past the darkening vision, my palms growing slick.
I can’t have a panic attack here. Not in front of her again.
Dropping my hand from hers, I step away and she takes the hint, cutting her connection with me.
It’s the last thing I want, but I’m starting to figure what I want doesn’t equal what’s good for me in the long run.
I left out the best part, too, of how my mom spent years doing whatever she wanted as soon as Dad packed and hit the road. Never giving a thought to how it could hurt us; inviting a man like Custodio into our lives and treating him like a Godsend and not the Joe Blow he was. Trading sex for a private, all-expense paid run through St. B&J for her kids, the rest of her mortgage and whatever else she fancied to be his mistress.
I’ve been promising myself I’d never be like that: Needing and breathing someone else. The affair destroyed her for me and shaped my life, made me the man I am, a guy who’d rather let someone as kind and sweet and beautiful as Astra out of my life at the right time.
Whenever that time would be…
“We used to play here,” I point up at a nearby lamp post. “Racing from here to Main Street with my brother and sister,” I’d learned to appreciate them a bit more after St. B&J – making friends at that school was fucking atrocious, and I found every excuse in the book to avoid party invites and afterschool hang outs.”
I wouldn’t fit in. Maybe now I’ve reinvented as the rock star, but not then.
“Where are they now?” Astra asks, she’s been a patient listener thus far and I still have a bit to say.
“My mom’s living with my younger sister now. She’s a grandmother to my two nieces and nephew.” My lifts tilt up, “I’d say she’s happier. She certainly looks happy in the pictures.”
“You haven’t seen her yourself?”
I shake my head, a sigh not too far along. “Truthfully, I’m scared. I can’t really forgive her for the past.”
We’re walking back to her car, my little tour over and done with. It wasn’t the talk I had in mind, but I’m feeling lighter. From what? Talking to Astra? That can’t be right.
Whatever it is, I can’t deny the feeling post-chat. It’s inexplicable, strange and wonderful…I think.
Which is why I’m apologizing, closing the distance and seeking out her touch again. I’m ready for it this time, panic-attack free. “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot back there in the game.”
“No one knew,” she whispers, and now she’s trying to get out of my tightening hold. “Ryker, please… I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Astra, please,” I echo, swallowing past the lump larger than my Adam’s apple. “I am sorry. You’re without a doubt the most special person who’s considered my crass ass ever. I care about you.” My voice cracks and Astra sucks in a deep breathe, leaning in, no longer struggling with me to free herself and she’s kissing me.
I moan at the simplest brush of her lips, and finally react by wrapping my arms around her when she leans into me, deepening the kiss. Her teeth drag into my lower lip and she retreats for a breath before descending again.
It’s like the last time only it takes us that much longer to detangle ourselves and for Astra to whirl the car around and bring us back to hers.
To home.
Chapter 9
Two nights later, and it still feels like home.
Astra is in my arms, lounging after sex, and I’m busy kissing every part of her body exposed to me. She shrugs, giggling when I trace a pattern with the tip of my tongue between her shoulder blades.
“That tickles,” she says, breathy from orgasm. She was screaming my name.
My voice doesn’t fare better, hoarse from my share of groaning and grunting, straining towards sweet release inside her.
“I’m sorry.” I kiss the tip of her ear after tucking her beautiful red hair out of the way. I slant my lips over her throat and she moans, tilting further back into the pillow and offering me more access to her. “Does it tickle still?”
“No,” she breathes a sigh, content. It fastens a grip around my heart, squeezing until I’m pretty breathless myself.
“Good.” I find her clit from the back, my wrists resting between her ass cheeks, pointer drenched in her heat all over again. At her long drawn breath, I whisper, “It’s not supposed to.”
I stroke her clenching walls with one, then two fingers. When I add the third, Astra’s grinding back against my hand, panting for the orgasm I’m denying her. I slow my strokes and then pick back up when her release abates. Slowing, quickening, slowing and quickening.
“Ryker! Please, just do it,” she begs.
Fuck me, is the silent command, and God knows I’d love to hear her say it, to force her to unbutton her little counsellor persona until she’s cussing her way to sexual nirvana. But I don’t push my luck.
She wails when I find and rub the elusive bundle of nerves before her perineum, the famous – infamous? – G-spot.
I’m sweating and trembling almost as much as she is. Weakly separating my hands from her nether lips, I clean my fingers of her tangy juices and slip in close behind her, gathering her to my chest.
Astra has another plan. She swivels around, turning in my embrace and now facing each other she grabs my cock. I tense, closing my eyes and riding out the sensation of her thumb rousing my member.
Her other hand is sliding up and down my shaft, going as far as massaging my balls before the full rub down, rinse and repeat.
“Oh, fuck,” I groan, grasping onto her waist for support at her two-handed lovin’. “Oh, babe, you’re so fucking amazing.”
“Stop swearing.” Her warning is delivering all husky, having the opposite effect. I cuss even more when my balls throb with imminent release.
Her hands are pumping faster now, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the peaceful air in her room. “Astra, ahh,” I grab the back of her head and tilt my lips over her, venting into the warm cavern of her mouth. Her moaning vibrates through me, adding to the pleasure bubbling to the top of my dick.
“I’m going to cum,” I rip my mouth off to forewarn. If she doesn’t move I’ll be blasting all over her belly, so as long as she’s cool with it. I sure as hell wouldn’t mind watching my semen dribble over her smooth flesh.
Astra isn’t on my wavelength. She moves her hands away and I’m groaning my protest. Then she pushes me onto my side and I fall back on the bed, my girl climbing over me, gripping my erection with a deft hand and taking me inside in a carefully aimed plunge.
I throw my head back and clench the bed spread and blankets under me. “Astra, fuck. Fuck me.”
“Ryker, Ryker, Ryker,” she says my name with each
downward plunge. I’m too weak to be of much use other than holding onto dear life and letting her ride me.
We come within seconds of each other. I’m first, unloading my seed into her, letting her pussy comfort me through the tense moment. Astra’s shallow breaths fall over my chest as she slides against me, my shoulder supporting her head, her cum drenched lips pressed to my outer thigh.
“That was hands-down awesome.” I say once I have control of my breathing and I’m coherent. Astra hums in agreement, deservingly more tired than me after working hard to get us both here in a boneless heap.
“I don’t want to have sex again because I can’t imagine anything topping it.”
Astra giggles lightly. Her hand is smoothing the short, dark hair over my chest, palm brushing my nipples in her massage.
“I could get used to this,” I mumble as I’m closing my eyes.
I find myself opening them the next morning. I stretch and realize Astra’s gone. Sitting up I confirm she’s not in the room.
I draw up on stiff limbs, stretching the knots bundled around my shoulders when light footfalls give way to Astra filling the doorway, and pausing at the sight of me, she grins.
“Good morning.”
“Right back at you. A little sore, but I’m feeling all better now.” I drag my heated gaze over, ignoring the towel wrapped around all the good bits. “Come here, sweetheart.”
She bypasses me and my crooked finger beckoning her sweet ass this way. I can’t complain though, that ass is on display when she drops the towel and stands in all her naked glory for me to drool over.
Tired of craning my neck, I throw my legs up and fluff a pillow to the headboard, my hand circling my half-erect, but quickly growing, cock. “Yeah, baby.” I stroke myself to her.
At realizing what I’m doing, Astra turns to give me a glorious shot of her round breasts and her bare cooch.
“You shaved?” I smile, cocking my head at the revelation. “Not on my account, I hope. I liked those springy curls.”
“I wanted to try something different.” She rubs her mound, her fingers going further south and her breath hitching just that much to fill in the gaps of my imagination.
My own fingers prickle at the memory of her wet heat and of the strong muscles straining against me straight from entrance. I tug at myself, massaging my palm over my crown and then stroking the rest of my engorged dick.
“I want to be inside of you again.”
“We can’t. I have to go to work, remember?” She’s still rubbing herself languidly, only now she’s moved on to her breasts. Pinching her nipples, she tugs at the pert flesh and groans.
“Astra.” I stretch the two syllables out on orgasm. I milk stringing cum shots, wishing I’d filled her instead of the air. I let my hand fall away to the side and sink into the afterglow.
Since she’d only been teasing me to my climax, Astra stops toying with her pretty, pink tits and turns to finish dressing. Meanwhile I blink through the beautiful haze until she’s fully changed into one of her blouse-skirt combos and sliding in beside me, letting me draw her into a kiss.
“Let yourself out with the spare key.” She says, pausing when I grab her wrist and lock our mouths together. Astra’s hand wedges between us and she pushes me off, her darkened gaze saying one thing while she tells me, “I really have to go, or I’ll be late.”
“If I have to then,” I kiss her one more time for good measure. It’s hopeless though, as I’m thirsting for more as soon as we part. “See you for dinner later?”
“Aren’t you practicing tonight?”
“A bit, yeah.” I lounge back against her headboard, tucking my hands behind my head.
“The party’s pretty close, isn’t it?” she’s standing in front of her mirror dresser, working on her gold earrings and a necklace to match her orange blouse. “Holly’s been out of commission since Mrs. Lopez hired her.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me? TzaTza isn’t working her to the bone, is she?”
Astra shifts in her seat, worrying pleating her eyebrows. “You think that’s it?”
I think I surprise us both when I lift from my half-reclined position and cross to corner her in front of the dresser. Bracketing her in her seat, I lean to get us as close to eye level as possible. “I’ll check on her, no worries.”
Astra kisses me as part of the gratitude; I grope her through her shirt as part of my promise.
“Ryker,” she gasps when I drag my hand down to the hem of her knee-length black, flowy skirt. “Not now.”
She gives a firm shake in the face of both our desires and when that isn’t enough, she locks her knees together, putting an effective stop to my searching palm. “No.”
“No fun.” I say, taking her kiss and hint to back off and let her ready for work. “I’ve never wished to go back to school.”
“I still can’t believe you used to go to St. Bernard and Justice.” Astra’s disbelief is as fresh when I told her a couple nights back; the same night I told her about my family. After sex we’d continued chatting into the pre-dawn.
“Yeah, back when the kiddies called in St. BJ,” I smirk, lifting my head her way during the search for my boxers. We had, as usual, got into bed in a frenzy of rushed limbs last night.
“That’s a distressing nickname.” But she’s smiling. Her gloss applied over her nude-colored lipstick, she does her lashes with that girly mascara, nothing flashy and finishes up primping.
I’m wearing my jeans when I smack her rear. Astra gasps and gives me a mock glare. “Go get ‘em,” I chuckle.
A little belatedly, and with a shirt on, I chase after her and catch her strapping into her boots in the front entrance. “About that favor,” I fidget with my cell. “How does tomorrow at 7 p.m. sound?”
“Were talking the dinner with Mr. Lopez and his business friend, and that friend’s daughter, the one you’re supposed to be marrying?” Astra asks, grabbing onto my proffered hand when she struggles to zip up her boots.
It was a night of catharsis I came clean about Custodio and my mother’s affair, and the blackmail marriage trap for me and the eldest Campo daughter, and Astra’s hopped on board to help.
In return I understand from Holly that Astra’s been pushing for some changes from the PTA council. Most of the teachers are obsequious to the parents padding their wealth with their private school salaries, and those parents are lead by none other than TzaTza.
I haven’t told Astra, but I’ve been working Lola’s mother, bringing to light some of Astra’s plans including increasing student volunteer hours and introducing a buddy system to help combat the same age-old bullying happening on school grounds.
“I’ll be there, Ryker. Just let me know what’s happening and I’ll be ready to help you out.” My heart is full when she bestows one last – really the last – kiss and disappears for the day.
The next eight or so hours are going to be brutal.
I do find a way to pass them, and pass they do. From practicing with the guys, to checking on Holly who’s, according to her, been spending more time at the Lopezes more than she’d ever wanted, and meeting with Custodio to re-confirm our dinner plans.
Seeing Astra at the end of the surprisingly busy day offers the rejuvenation I need, short of going to sleep.
“Hey, sexy,” I meet her in the kitchen, unstrap my guitar and lean it against the arching doorway.
I’m catching her drawing out lasagna from the oven. “Is that from scratch?” I goggle at the juicy cheese and sauce and remember I hadn’t touched much other than takeout burgers for lunch with Dan and Jesse.
The glamorous life of a rock star.
“I do occasionally make my own meals. It saves on money,” she pulls off her oven mitts and turns to the fridge. “Beer?” she holds open the door so I can see the six-pack.
Closing the distance doesn’t take long. I hug her and Astra’s laughter washes over me, a balm over my sore muscles and the fatigue I’d felt up to turning the lock with
her spare key. “Gods, I love you,” I murmur against her hair, catching myself too late.
Astra finds my eyes and for a moment we’re stuck on those three words minus my profusion of deities. I should be panicking, and I kind of am, but there’s this misplaced relief.
She tucks a piece of her voluminous hair behind her ear and half-turns towards the cool air rushing out of the open fridge door. “I hope you’re okay with Lager. I didn’t know what brand you liked.”
I seize onto the topic change. “That’s fine. A beer man through and through, and my taste buds are pretty shot as long as it isn’t wine.” I release her slowly, ignoring the vast emptiness I’m confronting every time she’s too far from me.
