by Ashley Beale
After the banquet is finished, Winston walks me out to the SUV. It's dark out, late into the night, and he asks if I want to spend more time with him. I glance at my cell phone to get the time. It's nearly midnight, and tomorrow is my day with Everett. I know if I spend more time with him, I'll make back half of what I just gave Valentina, but I would rather get home.
"There is always next week," I tell him.
He doesn't hide the look of disappointment but doesn't argue. "Next week it is. We have to make up for some lost time." He brazenly looks me over with a grin. "But you're definitely worth the wait, Chasity."
"As are you, Winston."
"Well... we do have the car ride home."
"This is true."
With a need unlike any other, he opens the rear door to let me into the SUV. He climbs into the other side. We're not even around the corner when he reaches for the hem of my dress, running his fingers along the skin of my thigh. I part my legs for him.
He pushes my underwear to the side, dipping his fingers inside. He kisses my shoulder while his fingers penetrate me. I look at the rearview mirror as the driver looks away. A few minutes later, he peeks back at us. I spot his cheeks turn a bit blush, but he doesn't falter in his driving.
Turning my head, I whisper to Winston that the driver is watching. Deep down, I hope he decides that this isn't the time and place for this. Instead, he whispers back, "I know."
He starts finger fucking me harder. I can't deny that it feels good, even with the flaws of the situation. Closing my eyes, I imagine Everett, but unlike the last time I imagined him, it does nothing for me. I moan against his touch, I tell him it feels good in whispers I hope the driver doesn't hear, and even though I know there is no way I'm going to get off, I fake an orgasm- which from the way that Winston reacts, I know he believes.
Removing his fingers from between my legs, Winston tastes them, staring directly at me as he sucks away every ounce of juice from his fingers. He licks his lips after, still not turning his direction. "God you taste incredible," he announces.
"So I've been told," I tell him flirtatiously, adding a wink to it.
"Next Saturday I'm going to feast away at your pussy." He definitely doesn't try to be silent about any of it. I think it makes me him feel good talking dirty and doing things to me in front of another person. There are many people I've met over the years that get off easier by having an audience. In fact, once, I even was hired to sit in the room with a couple while they went at it, only for the sake that it made them feel like porn stars, so they both told me.
Unsure of what to say, I tell him, "Sounds good to me, baby. Anything I can do in return for you?"
"You do enough by letting me take you out."
When I finally get home, I'm so exhausted I don't even want to bathe. I decide that I can take a quick shower instead. Stripping from my clothes, I reach into the shower to turn it on.
The steaming hot water feels incredible over my body. Lathering the shampoo in my hair, I start to think more about my life right now. Why do I suddenly despise being with anyone other than Everett? I didn't enjoy being pleasured by Winston, not like the first time when he made me feel a world wind of euphoria. Tonight I actually was happier donating money than I was being pleasured.
By the time I'm rinsing out my conditioner my emotions are being washed over with gloom. I don't like myself right now. For the first time in such a long time, I don't feel powerful or beautiful... if anything, I feel the opposite.
Washing away the suds of my body wash, I quickly turn off the water. I wrap my body in one towel, my hair in another, then I head towards the bedroom. I throw myself down on the bed, immediately breaking out in full blown tears. I've had no choice but to be independent up to this point. To see where I was, what I've come from, to where I am and what I have, I am no longer a needy, scared, little girl- at least not until this point.
Right now, I'm petrified.
I'm scared Everett will find out the truth and leave. I'm fearful he won't love me enough. I'm nervous to give up what I've known the last three years for someone I hardly know, yet I’m already falling for. More than any of it, I'm terrified why suddenly, the only person in the world that can comfort me right now is downstairs, probably fast asleep.
Rolling onto my back, I look up to the ceiling. Snuggles jumps up on the bed, doing what she does best, she snuggles with me. I pet her, but it doesn't release the stress as it normally does.
Standing from the bed after a few minutes of talking with Snuggles about my day, I go grab some clothes from the dresser. I pull on a pair of clean underwear, a pair of yoga shorts, and a tee-shirt I sometimes wear to bed. Padding through the house, I make it to the bathroom to wash my excess makeup off and brush my hair, then I find my phone. I send a text to Everett, even with that little devil on my shoulder telling me I'm throwing the last of my dignity out the window.
I'm having a rough night. Can I come over? If you're awake that is...
I chew on my nails until I receive a text back in a few seconds.
Do you want me to come up to you instead?
No, I don't want to be home. If that's okay...
Please do.
I toss my phone in my purse, make sure Snuggles has enough food, then I head down to Everett's place.
He opens the door before I'm even there, and as I walk through the doorway, he envelopes me in a giant hug. It is probably the best thing he could do, because it makes me feel truly cherished- but it's also the worse thing, because I immediately break out in tears.
"What’s the matter?" He asks sweetly against my skin.
I shake my head back and forth, not wanting to discuss it. More so, not knowing how to discuss any of it.
"Brenna, baby, did someone harm you again?"
I continue to shake my head. He doesn't say anything for a long while, but after a few minutes, he moves us to the couch. He sits, pulling me on his lap, and remains holding me to him.
I wake up sometime later... in Everett's bed.
Maybe it was a long time, because I can spot the sun shining behind his dark curtain. He doesn't have an alarm clock in here, but my purse is next to the side table. I reach into it to see my phone. It reads that it's after eight in the morning. Dropping my phone back in, I roll onto my back, relaxing into the mattress.
I can hear Everett- at least, I hope it to be Everett- in the other room. There is a clanging noise, as if he's actually attempting to pull out pots and pans for a breakfast. It brings me to a smile almost immediately.
If he is going to surprise me with breakfast, I'll lay here a little longer. I reach back down, pulling my purse onto the bed. I dig through it until I find a brush to get the knots out of my hair, then I look into my compact to glance at the mirror, making sure I don't have black smudged under my eyes like some mornings, despite removing my makeup last night.
I look fine, except for the puff around my eyes. Probably because it's been so long since I cried myself to sleep. I'm embarrassed I cried in Everett's arms, but thinking back on the overall feeling it gave me, I can't help but to smile. No one has ever shown me love that like, at least not since my parents.
Digging through my purse a little more, I try to look for some gum but can't find any. Glancing around Everett's room, I'm hoping he'll have a pack on the dresser or something. My mouth tastes like ass, so I'm sure it smells the same. I don't see anything minty, so I reach over to his nightstand, pulling the drawer open. I push a few papers aside, to see if he possibly has anything to mask the smell of morning breath.
I spot an oval leather shell with a brass clip attached to it. The familiarity of it spins my stomach in circles. Picking it up, I look at the front. The pain that hits my stomach is undefinable. The front is all in gold, with the words etched boldly into it. Detective. Protect. Serve.
As quick as I can, I dig through the rest of his drawer, looking for any hints that tell me this is a lie- because frankly, I don't want to believe it's the truth.
However, the paperwork I find, with the name Detective Everett Burke all over it, tells me it's the truth. He's a cop- a detective at that.
I hate that it upsets me. Less over the fact he's a cop, but more so that he lied to me. I hate it because... I've been lying to him, too. I know now that I have no choice except to either continue my lies, or walk away.
Closing the drawer, I lay back on the bed, covering my face with my hands. I let out a loud grunt of frustration, hoping my hands will mask the sound. I'm not sure how I was so stupid about all of this. I hardly know anything about Everett. I don't know his age, or if he has kids, or what his favorite color is, or if he's ever been married, or any other random facts that I should know after falling this hard. I want to ask him, but I don't know how. I want to mention that I know he's a cop, but I'm scared it'll ruin us. In fact, I'm not even sure how much of an us there is, due to the fact that we both are in the dark about each other’s lives.
With a deep cleansing breath, I decide that I'll keep it to myself… for now. Maybe he'll tell me when he can trust me a little more. Today I'm going to commit to getting to know him better before making any rash decisions, and hopefully we can get on a better starting line than this.
Because if I'm being honest, the idea of having to walk from Everett- or having him walk from me- is probably the most gut wrenching thing to date, besides my parent's death. Maybe for the first time in my life, I'm actually, truly starting to fall in love.
Chapter Sixteen
Everett
I manage to fry up some bacon and eggs, and cook toast without burning any of it. There are a few things I can cook, but it's embarrassing to admit how much I actually suck for being over half way through my twenties. However, I wanted to do something special for Brenna after she showed up last night, opening her emotions up to me, even if a little bit.
Scraping everything onto a plate, I walk down the hall to my room. She lays there, looking over at the window with a sense of despair. Her body flinches when she realizes I'm in the room. "Morning," I whisper, walking towards the bed.
She sits up a little more in bed, flattening my comforter over her lap. "Morning," she answers back. Her smile precious, but I can tell that whatever had her in tears last night is obviously still bothering her. "Order out or burn down the kitchen?" She eyes the food, her grin spreading mischievously.
"Well, I can't promise not to give you food poisoning, but the kitchen is still standing."
She reaches over for some bacon. "Smells delicious."
"Sleep well?"
"I did, actually. Thank you." With a pause, she adds, "I'm sorry about last night."
"Would it be harsh for me to say it made me happy?"
"So you're sadistic?" She nods her head playfully. "I wouldn't have known."
I can't help but to laugh. "No, that is far from the truth. I just... I enjoyed making you feel better."
That adorable blush of hers I have fallen for splays across her cheeks as she looks down at her new piece of bacon. "Where is this going Everett?" She asks. It takes me by surprise more than it should. She peeks up at me, the question eating at her.
Not sure how to answer, I ask the only thing I can think of before I can continue. "Where do you want this to go?"
Brenna shrugs. "I'm not sure. I've never had this. I've never felt like this before. But I don't know you, Everett, we don't know each other. How can any of this happen if we're still in the dark about parts of our lives?"
I hate how true that statement is, probably more than she even realizes. I want to tell her the truth, but I can't right this second. In time, once I'm a little more trusting, once I have more of a hold on my assignments and the new department I'm working for. In due time, I'm going to let her in entirely, to all my life, but for now, I'll give her what she needs to know. Who I am, aside from my profession. It's all I can do.
"That's what people do, Brenna. They start falling in love by the simple things, like the way a woman blushes or laughs, how hypnotizing her eyes are. They slowly fall in love with kisses and touches. They connect both with personalities and interests, and how well they can handle being around one another. The rest of it slides into place, and before you realize it, you're loving someone for their everything, flaws and all."
She cocks her head to the side. "Did you read that in a book or something?"
"Actually… it's similar to something my mom said to me when my first crush dumped me at fifteen. I thought I was in love. Mom's words always stuck with me, although I had to change things around a little, because I have fallen in love with things you do. The way when you're listening to music on the beach you move your foot around to the beat, or when you try to prevent a smile by biting down on your lip, or the way you're always blushing when I’m around. I love your eyes and lips more than one man should. I love each second you allow me to see beneath your shell. I'm falling in love with everything I do know about you."
I was hoping for a response where she threw her hands around my neck, kissed me with need, and repeated back everything she also loves about me, but that isn’t the case. Instead Brenna stares at me, a look of fear evident in her rounded eyes.
After a painfully long, silent moment, I ask, "Are you... going to say anything?"
"I..." She hesitates for a moment, blinking through some sudden tears. "I can't tell you how I feel yet, Everett. I need time."
Her words- or better yet, her lack of words- slice through me. I'm understanding that she needs time, I'm just scared that I told her all of my honest feelings, for her to turn around and not feel an ounce of what I do. I am nervous I'm running her off for good.
As if she can read my mind, she adds in... "I'm not saying I don't have feelings for you, because I do. It's that I can't express them yet. I need time. I want to know you more. I want to be with you more."
Closing the space between us, I sit next to her on the bed. Cupping her face in my hands, I lean forward to brush my lips against her. She lets out a pitiful groan, which confirms the fact she enjoys it. "All the time you need," I whisper.
Brenna leaves for over a couple hours to shower, and whatever else it is that females do that takes so long to get ready. I hop in the shower, get dressed, make my bed, and sit in front of the television to watch the Cubs take on the Red Sox. Half way through the third inning, I hear her knock before opening the door. Standing from the couch, I look over at her tight jean shorts and a hippie styled white shirt that shows off a portion of her stomach.
She has glasses on her head, her purse hooked to her shoulder. "Thought we could do lunch somewhere," she suggests- as I was about to ask her if she was planning on going somewhere.
Knowing I can't say no, I pick up the remote to turn the TV off. Grabbing for my phone and wallet on the coffee table, I walk towards Brenna. She's still eyeing the TV.
"Who was playing?"
"Oh, um, the Cubs and Red Sox. You watch baseball?" If she says yes, I'm falling to one knee. It's about the only sport I actually follow religiously. My dad used to love taking me to games.
She lifts one of her shoulders up in a shrug. "Sort of. I don't hate it, but if I'm going to watch it, I'd rather it be in person. On TV it's a little boring. I love basketball though, I actually try to get in on some of the bets now and again."
"What teams do you like?"
"Miami Heat, of course. It used to be the Bulls, because who didn't love Michael Jordon as a kid? I started liking the Heat years ago, when they got all the better players. I've actually met Dwayne Wade and LeBron James before, and got to sit three rows back during a game last year."
I think I'm both envious and in love. "We should go to a game together then," I tell her. "I've been to baseball and football games, but never basketball. Unless you count high school sports."
"I'd love that," she says with a gorgeous grin.
"Good. So where are we off to?"
"Lunch." She turns to head back out the door. "I don't care where." Typical female response.
We're half way down the hall when she gives me a glare. "Not on dates. I have an idea." She continues walking, and it takes me a minute to catch up. Mainly because she said this was a date. Then I saw her ass sway perfectly side to side while she stormed ahead of me. I try to be a gentleman about it, but with an ass like that, it's hard not to stare.
I expect her to head towards my truck, but instead she heads towards her BMW. The roof is already down, and it's a gorgeous, sunny day outside. Maybe even a little too hot for my liking. She slides into the driver seat, pulling her glasses down over her face before putting the key into the ignition. I'm a little hesitant on getting into the passenger seat, mainly for the sake I don't exactly feel manly about having a woman drive me while we're on a date. I know it may sound sexist, but I was raised that way. To be a man, to take charge.
Tupac comes on the radio, thumping the speakers. She reaches over for the radio to turn it down. "Sorry," she murmurs. "You can listen to whatever you want."
"I don't think I've heard a Tupac song in years." I look over at her, surprised once more by Brenna. She is in that stage between adolescence and adulthood. She is mature beyond on her years, yet she’s still such a kid when it comes to certain things. "How old are you?" I ask when we round the corner heading parallel with the coast line.
"Um." She pauses, fidgeting with the steering wheel. "I want to tell you the truth, but I don't want to scare you."
Please for the love of God say at least eighteen, I think to myself. Fuck, that'll be a kick in the damn balls if she is anything under that. "I need to know the truth." I'm sure my voice comes out a little ruder than I had intended, but I have to know she is of a legal age. I'm a detective, I can't have sex with someone under age.
"Twenty," she admits after a moment. "I'll be twenty one next month though." She eyes me quickly before facing the road once more. It's relieving, except it's not. She is under the legal drinking age and I've given her beer... in my home at that. However, now that she says it, I realize I should have known better before now. "How old are you?"
