A Not So Typical Love

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A Not So Typical Love Page 11

by Tristen Rowen


  Following my order, his head bobbed back and forth like it so often did, which usually meant he was listening to an unnamed tune in his head. He was too cute to interrupt. Standing behind him, I playfully lifted up the back of his shirt. Unable to help myself, my lips brushed against the side of his neck, my hands on his waist.

  "Jordan..." Yesenia unexpectedly returned and I quickly pushed his t-shirt back down. Jordan didn't budge, continuing to stir.

  "What do I do now?" he asked, referring to the omelet, as if we hadn't just been interrupted. I was sure my face was beet red. Yesenia said something to Jordan who only nodded back to her, then she disappeared again.

  "I keep forgetting we're not alone in the house," I said.

  "She just wanted to know if we were going to use the bathroom upstairs because she's going to clean it," he said.

  "You speak Spanish?"

  "No, not really," he said. "We've just known each other a long time." After I dropped a knob of butter in the frying pan, I instructed Jordan to pour the egg mixture in. In the end, I did most of the work and Jordan did most of the observing.

  With our omelets, we went outside and sat down at the porch table. It was another hot and humid July day. As he ate, he brought one knee to his chest. While he often sat like this, I knew he was doing it on purpose to be provocative.

  "Have you no shame?" I teased him. He only stared back at me. "The maid's around here somewhere." Ignoring me, he took a bite of his omelet. "She could show up any minute."

  "It's good," he said, ignoring my warnings.

  "Thanks," I said. Blushing, he brought his leg down. I couldn't help but laugh because I knew what was happening under his shirt.

  "What?" he said.

  "Nothing," I said with a smile.

  "I can't help it," he muttered. "It's annoying."

  "Oh yeah, real annoying."

  In an irritating way, his knee bounced up and down as he took a sip of his orange juice. To stop his knee from bouncing, I reached over and placed a hand on it. I also just wanted to touch his knee. I couldn't help myself and rubbed his knee with the side of my thumb.

  "Stop," he said. "I don't want to...well...I don't want to make a mess on the deck."

  "You don't have to do it on the deck," I said, sliding my hand up his thigh. "What? You don't think I will?"

  "What about Yesenia?"

  "She's inside," I said, bending over. He really didn't put up much of a fight, only looking over his shoulder once to make sure no one was watching us. Sighing happily, he lifted his shirt up to his chest, watching me carefully. Pressing his hand against the back of my neck, he pushed me harder on him, encouraging me to take him all the way in my mouth. As I looked up at him, I knew that was it.

  "Oh shit," he gasped, his ass lifting off the chair as he filled my mouth. I held him there until he finished.

  "I want to show you my place now," he said, stroking the back of my head.

  "Can I finish my breakfast first?" I said, sitting back up. He folded his arms across his chest, staring me down while I shoved the rest of my omelet in my mouth. "You really are cute," I said with a mouthful of omelet. "And you taste good."

  Jordan shot me the middle finger and ran off. Oh no, it was just a joke. As usual, I ran after him. He went in a different direction this time, running in his bare feet, leading me deep into the woods, deeper than he ever took me. He ran so fast I had a hard time keeping up with him.

  "I feel like I'm in The Blair Witch Project," I said.

  "What's The Blair Witch Project?" he asked.

  "This creepy movie set in the middle of the woods where three college kids disappear. Lots of weird shit happens." The woods started to thin and I almost thought we were about to enter civilization again when a meadow of growing sunflowers stopped us. Tons and tons of sunflowers. "Tim doesn't know about this place?"

  "No, he never goes out this far," he said. "The New Hampshire border is right over there." He gestured past the sunflowers, through another set of woods. "My mom showed me this place a long time ago. When I was little, I'd run through this field, pretending the sunflowers were poppies instead of sunflowers so I'd fall asleep."

  "Like Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion in The Wizard of Oz?"

  "Yes," he said. "It was just pretend sleep, though. Sometimes I wished I'd really fall asleep and never wake up."

  "Why would you think that?" I asked.

  "Haven't you ever felt that way?"

  "Truthfully?"

  "Yes, truthfully," he said.

  "Yes, I guess I have," I said.

  "It's different than wanting to die, though, isn't it? Because if you're asleep, that means you're still alive. It means you're still a little hopeful."

  "Yes," I said. "I suppose that's true."

  "I never wanted to die," he said, sitting down in a patch of grass. "I was just tired...really tired." While sitting, he pulled his shirt over his knees, stretching it out even more. He wrapped his arms around his legs, rocking himself subtly like he was remembering a bad, traumatic memory. As he rested his head on his knees, I sat down in front of him.

  "Do you like baseball?" I asked, attempting to lighten the mood.

  "Yes," he said. "I tried playing it when I was little, but I didn't play well with the other kids so my parents pulled me from the team."

  "Have you ever seen a game at Fenway?"

  "No."

  "Maybe I could take you," I said. He shrugged indifferently. "I think it'd be fun."

  "Maybe," he said. Reaching over, I pulled his legs loose. Holding his feet in my lap, I brushed the dirt off both feet, proceeding to rub my hand against his calloused heels. His body relaxed as I massaged his feet.

  "What's the date today?" he asked.

  "Hmm...July 14th. Why?"

  "When are you leaving?" he asked. A pit in the middle of my stomach formed.

  "August 30th," I said. “My birthday.” Even though it was over a month away, my heart ached thinking about it. I put it out of my mind, wanting to enjoy as much time with him as I could. It was hard to believe I had only been there three weeks. "Let's not think about that right now," I said as he avoided my eyes, turning his head away. "Hey." Still, he looked away, not saying anything. "Hey," I said again, shaking his legs. When he chose to ignore me again, I pulled him by his legs toward me, causing his shirt to lift, dragging his bare ass over the dirt and grass. He didn't say anything, though, merely wincing until I pulled him into my lap, his shirt scrunched up to his waist. "Try not to think about that right now," I said as he hugged me, resting his head on my shoulder. He nodded. "I can honestly say I've never met anyone like you." He hooked his legs around my back, holding me tight. "It's going to be alright," I said as he clung to me.

  "But what if it's not?"

  "What do you mean?"

  Abruptly he got off me, annoyed I didn't understand what he meant. He looked at me for a second, quickly wiping his cheeks before running off again. I hadn't realized he was crying. Running through the field of sunflowers, I heard him sing loudly, a song about a boy trying to be a man, his mother taking him by his hand, who stopped to think and cry. I Will Follow.

  As he sung through his tears, I realized how much he missed his mother and his childhood and that I changed everything for him. He would miss me as I would miss him.

  A few minutes later, I found him in the pond, which grossed me out more than ever. “Get out of there," I said. "Jordan, get out of there now. You're not wearing any underwear..." He looked at me once, then dunked himself under the dirty water. "That's fucking disgusting, Jordan. Get out. Get out now." Sticking his tongue out at me, he splashed me. As he went to splash me again, I grabbed his arm and literally yanked him out of the water. Before he could do anything else, I picked him up, throwing him over my shoulder.

  "Put me down!" he yelled, flailing his legs and arms.

  "No," I said, trudging out of the woods. "You're not so tough."

  "You're an ass hole," he said, which only made me
laugh.

  As he hung there, he punched my thigh. I retaliated with a light smack on his bare ass a few times, making him laugh no matter how hard he tried not to. Fortunately Yesenia was gone. I carried him all the way up the stairs and into the freshly cleaned bathroom that we dirtied all over again. I sat him down on the toilet. He immediately folded his arms over his chest, sulking, pretending to be annoyed, but I doubted he really was. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

  "I always wanted a bathtub like this," I said, referring to the deep cast iron bathtub that was as old as the rest of the house. "You must have loved it as a kid."

  "I don't need a bath," he said as I turned on the water.

  "How many times have you told me you're not a kid?" I said. "You're acting like a spoiled brat." He gave me the middle finger again and I gave it right back to him.

  "What are you doing?" he asked as I undid my shorts.

  "Taking a bath, too," I said. "What, you think I'd let you take one without me? The tub's definitely big enough for the both of us." With his eyes on me, I undressed and got in the tub, letting water fill almost to the brim.

  "I used to take these marathon baths," he said, standing up. "That's what Tim used to call it."

  "Because you love water," I said as he took off his shirt. I couldn't wait for him to get in with me. He dipped his toe in and hesitated.

  "It's hot," he said.

  "Stop whining and get in," I said. He stuck out his tongue at me for the second time that day and eased into the tub.

  "Happy now?" he said, letting his legs lay on either side of me. He slouched in the tub, letting the water clip his chin. Holding his foot, I scrubbed his toes with the loofa. Maybe I scrubbed the bottom of his foot a little too hard, but it needed it. I didn't mind the kick in the head he gave me. He abruptly went all the way under the water, quickly bobbing back up, causing water to spill out of the tub. For a few seconds, it was almost like I wasn't even there. He squirted shampoo in his hair and lathered it up, getting his hair good and sudsy. He slid back under the water, then back up again, suds trickling down the sides of his face. I just couldn't resist and scooted to him.

  "Let me help you," I said, bringing my legs around him. I squeezed a wet washcloth over the top of his head. He smiled as our bodies touched. "What?"

  "You're hard," he said.

  "I can't help it," I said. "It's annoying." Smiling again, he pressed his lips on mine.

  "What do you want to do today?" he asked.

  "I don't know," I said. "What do you want to do today?" Bringing his arms around me, he kissed me again. "We can't do that all day," I said. He only kissed me harder. Or maybe we could...

  "I want to try," he said. "When we get out, I want to try."

  "Try what?" I asked. Kissing me, his hands slid down my back, all the way down until they reached my ass. Pushing his hand underneath me, propping me up, his fingers trailed between my cheeks. "Whatever you want," I said. With no hesitation, he pushed a finger inside me. Oh boy, this is going to be interesting...

  Town Called Malice

  Jordan

  Bursting with excitement, I couldn't wait and got out of the tub, nearly slipping on the floor on my way out of the bathroom. This was like the best summer of my life.

  "You should dry off first!" Jamie yelled to me as I ran down the hall to his room.

  "Come on, Jamie!" I yelled back to him. "You always take too long."

  Upon entering Jamie's room, I discovered it was all nice and neat, meaning Yesenia had cleaned it. His suitcase was closed and parked near the dresser. It was nice of Yesenia to clean up after us...or after him, I should say. She also made his bed with freshly cleaned sheets. Since I was still dripping wet, I didn't sit down.

  "Hurry up!" I shouted.

  "Calm down," he said, appearing in the doorway with a towel around his waist. Wow...he looked good. He really did have a nice body. Although I didn't recognize it at first, I was attracted to him since day one of his stay at the Cameron house.

  "What?" he said as I stared at him. I couldn't take my eyes off him.

  "Nothing," I said.

  "What?" he said with a laugh, approaching me.

  "Nothing," I said again.

  "It's not nothing," he said, standing directly in front of me. "Tell me."

  "You have a nice body," I finally said.

  "Thank you," he said with a smile. "So do you." I shook my head because I knew that couldn't possibly be true. "You do," he said, placing his hands on my chest. "I love your body. It's not like you're self-conscious, right? I don't know if I would have gone skinny-dipping in broad daylight when I was your age."

  "I've been doing it forever," I said.

  "I know. I think it's great." He brought his lips to mine while rubbing my nipples between his fingers. I loved it and was disappointed when he stopped. He removed his towel and used it to dry me off. “You're dripping everywhere," he said. He dried off my entire body, spending extra time between my legs, kneeling on the floor.

  "I thought you were going to let me try," I said as he kissed me down there.

  "I'm just getting you ready," he said.

  "I'm ready," I said.

  "You're so impatient," he said, standing back up. He kissed me once, then plopped down on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows, an amused look in his eyes. "Are you nervous?"

  "No," I said, which wasn't entirely true. He leaned forward and kissed me. With his hands on my waist, he guided me onto the bed. "I'm not nervous," I insisted.

  "I know," he said, but more in a way to appease me.

  "Roll over," I said, determined to prove that I wasn't nervous, that I could be confident, too.

  "Yeah? Okay," he said with a smile and did as I said.

  Jamie lay on his stomach, looking over his shoulder, keeping an eye on me. Kneeling on the bed, hovering over him, I kissed the back of his neck, followed by each shoulder blade. I kissed every inch of his spine, down to his tailbone. He sighed, inhaling as I kissed him lower. I pushed his cheeks apart and kissed him right there. I liked it when he did it to me. He liked it, too. I dragged my tongue down the middle and circled his entrance with my tongue before pushing my finger in him.

  "Is it weird?" I asked. Watching me, he shook his head.

  "Be gentle," he said. "I haven't been a bottom in a long time."

  "What's a bottom?" I asked. Ignoring my question, he reached for the bottle on the nightstand. Maybe he didn't hear me.

  "Put it on your fingers," he said.

  "What's a bottom?" I asked again as I squirted a bunch of that stuff on my fingers. I circled his entrance with the stuff, eventually sliding my finger in. It was much easier with the stuff on; my finger slid right in. A light dawned in my head and I suddenly realized what he meant by "bottom" and I was embarrassed for asking what it was in the first place. "Okay...I'll be gentle," I said, sliding my finger in, slowly in and out. "Am I being gentle?" I asked. Jamie nodded as his shoulders slouched in front of him, occasionally moaning quietly in that way of his. I hated to admit that I was really nervous.

  As I entered him, his body stiffened and he closed in around me. He was so tight. It felt good, too good and the way he pushed back and against me, encouraging me to get further in...I could barely handle it. Actually, I couldn't. "Oh God..." I muttered. "You feel good. I...I..." And then I completely lost it, almost as quickly as I started. "God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry...," I cried, my body trembling in a way it had never done before. "Are you mad? I'm sorry..."

  "It's okay," he said. Jamie rolled over, taking me in his arms, kissing me. "I'm not mad. Don't be sorry," he said in-between kisses.

  "You can finish in me..." I said, eagerly waiting for him.

  "Okay, okay," he said, not waiting any longer. He brought my leg around his waist and pushed in.

  "I love it," I said against his neck as he held my leg, thrusting back and forth, in and out. "I love it," I said again. "I love you." Those last three words just slipped out and I ins
tantly regretted saying it. There was nothing I could do to take it back, no matter how many apologies, but I still apologized. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

  He brought my other leg around his waist, gazing hard into my eyes, as deep inside me as he could get. "Don't be sorry," he said in my ear. "I love you, too." Looking into my eyes again, his bottom lip quivered as he came. I wrapped my arms around him, keeping him close to me.

  Jamie hesitantly released me to answer his phone. He didn't seem too happy to be speaking to whoever called him. "And you're telling me this now?" he said on the phone. They went back and forth like they were having some kind of argument. I hated arguments. Bored and uncomfortable, I left the room, returning with my own phone. Music was the only thing that calmed me down and distracted me from things I didn't like. I could have stayed in my room, but I wanted to stay with Jamie. The first song that came on was The Jam's Town Called Malice. Even though Jamie was annoyed and irritated with the person on the other end of the line, he smiled at me as I sang along.

  With the phone still to his ear, he stood up and hugged me, half dancing with me, his body close to mine. "Fine...fine...," he kept saying to the person on the other end. “Yeah...yeah...yeah...today. I heard you. Today." And he hung up, throwing his phone on the floor.

  "Do you like the Jam?" I asked.

  "They're alright," he said, dancing close to me. "You want to take a trip to Boston?"

  "No," I said. "Why?"

  "I have to go get the rest of my shit at Gina's. She could have called me three weeks ago when she threw me out. She didn't even give me a chance to get the rest of my things. Come with me. What else are you going to do today? I'll take you to Shake Shack."

  "What's Shake Shack?"

  "Shake Shack just happens to have the best fries and shakes around. Come on...come with me."

  "I guess it would be okay," I said. "As long as I don't have to meet your ex-girlfriend."

  "You won't have to meet her. You can stay in the car."

  My parents only took me to Boston to see doctors, spending countless long afternoons in doctors’ offices. Jamie was used to Boston since he had been teaching at Boston High School for the past seven years.

 

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