Summer Ever After

by M. C. Cerny

  “Ohh, Roman!” Abby shouts as she lifts her hips to meet my fingers pounding her now. She lets out a squeal and tries to wiggle away with the aftershocks. I let her sit a moment on the step, but keep my fingers pressed inside her, rubbing the front wall of her pussy slowly as she comes down from her shaking release. Her hands reach for my shoulders and around to cup my neck as her leg drops down. She pulls me closer to her face, her breath hot and her top lip trembles with a bead of salty sweat I lick off.

  “What makes you think I’m done with you, brat?” I growl, looking into her pleasure-drunk eyes. Her pupils are dilated and she hasn’t caught her breath yet.

  “Evil. You’re evil, Roman.” Rung out and limp, she shakes. I slip my fingers from her wet core, letting the moisture swipe against her thigh already slick with perspiration.

  I nod my head and help her stand on the stairs. Propping her up, I press my hard dick into her soft belly, letting her know how much she’s affected me.

  “It’s my turn, and I want you to ride me.”

  Her legs wobble and I swear she’s coming against my clothed dick when she claws to hold onto me as she releases a slight squeal. The reason makes me smile, knowing I made Abby so come hard. There is no denying our mutual ravening attraction.

  “I’m going to make you regret saying that, sailor.” Her bold claim is followed by shaky words.

  “Pretty much, Hollywood. Now it’s time for my breakfast.” I hoist her over my shoulder and she flails a moment before I swat her bare bottom playfully. My little sea witch shrieks, and I can’t help my laughter as I carry her upstairs to the bedroom to enjoy my feast...

  Chapter Eleven

  ABIGAIL

  Roman is an intense, dedicated, and thorough lover. Laying here in bed next to him, I feel cared for and at peace. I turn over on my side so I can study the man next to me. His skin carries a summer tan from his head to the bottoms of his feet. Not an ounce of his skin is untouched, leaving my imagination to wonder. Muscles define every part of his body. A soft snore slips through his lips.

  Comparing him to Lucas, it’s like gooey delicious cavity-causing caramel versus plain old apples. Okay, my ex-boyfriend was more like rotten apples that had been left on the counter too long, but whatever. I shake the image of those wrinkled forgotten apples from my mind. After another lengthy—and I mean lengthy—morning of lovemaking, I am achy, hungry, and too exhausted to care. My limbs are boneless and my mind is blissfully blank.

  Roman is dead to the world with his snoring. His thick arms and legs hang half off the bed. I’m almost afraid to wake him because he might try for another round, and as much as I would enjoy it, my body might combust. I slither from the bed, inching my body out from under the covers, careful not to wake him as I head into the shower. A few minutes all to myself under the hot spray will clear the cobwebs of my love-drunk hangover.

  Washing my hair, my fingers mindlessly work through knotted strands as the conversation with my dad replays in my mind. The thoughts circle back going nowhere as water and suds slide down the vast drain of the shower. Knowing I have to go back to LA depresses the happiness that filled me earlier. I do kind of owe him for providing all the advantages he’s given me.

  At some point, I have to go, and sooner rather than later if I’m going to keep my job at the firm. Admittedly, I’m scared of this new step with Roman, and it’s guilt propelling me back to my old life and routines. It’s not from any unfinished business with Lucas or ongoing fight with Leah. All I have when I return is my job—right under my dad’s thumb. I could give it up, but I’d be starting all over and I don’t even know where to begin.

  Roman will be nearly a twenty-hour drive from LA to Seattle up the coast. Fuck that. I’ll use whatever money I make to take a plane. That’s what the job is for, right? Life is all about working hard at something you only kind of like to afford the things you…love? If Roman wants to still see me, that is.

  I choke back a sob from the overwhelming emotions between what I want and what I feel I should be doing. I took a huge gamble running away from L.A., because if I’m honest with myself, that’s exactly what I did. I ran, and even though it forced me to learn things about Lucas, Leah, and my dad, it hasn’t changed the fundamental fact that I’m still too scared to make a real decision here.

  Be a fucking adult. That’s what my dad would say. It’s not fair to Roman to run from one man to the next. After I’ve convince myself that going back is the right thing to do, I turn off the water. Throwing my arm out into the cool bathroom, I grab a towel just outside the glass shower door. Now I have to work up the courage to tell Roman.

  “Hollywood.” The sound of my nickname jars me a little, seeing Roman standing inside the bathroom admiring the view I’m giving him from the completely see-through shower stall. I shake off the uneasiness I feel with an unconvincing smile as he holds out a towel to me.

  “You promised me coffee, sailor.” As I slowly dry myself, his eyes linger and travel down my body as I rub the droplets of water from my shoulders and breasts down to my hips and thighs. I keep my eyes on his, letting his heated gaze warm me.

  “So I did. Meet me at the microwave, sea witch.” Roman smirks, giving me one last look over before swaggering toward the kitchen. Bursting out with a laugh, I shake my head at how easily this man improves my mood.

  I get dressed and meet Roman in his bachelor pad kitchen, which seems unlike everything else in his apartment, besides its attention to detail and being clean and simple. The rest of his home is filled with simple mementos and special things. The kitchen looks like he hit up the stainless steel section of Ikea and called it a day. I’m not even sure the pots and pans have been used but I don’t say anything sipping my coffee. “So what’s on our agenda today?” The microwave beeps, and he is careful to put the paper covering back on the cup before handing me my steaming coffee.

  “Well, I thought we might take the afternoon and visit the aquarium and find dinner somewhere on the pier.” We both take a sip of our coffee and the warmth of the cup is nothing compared to the warm feelings that stir looking at Roman.

  “Sounds like a nice little adventure. Is it going to rain today?” I look out the large floor-to-ceiling windows into the grayish late-morning sky. Its overcast, but I guess that’s typical for Seattle.

  “Probably, and I’ll even let you pick which umbrella we bring.” Roman laughs.

  “So generous of you.” I smirk. “Roman…” I begin and he turns toward me slowly.

  “Whatever we need to talk about, can we table it until after dinner? Please?” Roman gently inquires.

  “I just… I just wanted to know what I should wear today.” I plaster on a fake smile because I don’t know how Roman efficiently reads my mind to know I need to discuss something serious with him already.

  “Whatever your heart desires. I probably prefer a lot less than what you’re thinking. It will rain on us at some point.” I try to remember what’s in my bag. I decide I’ll keep his oversized T-shirt on, tucking it into a pair of shorts with a wide belt and sandals.

  We get dressed and Roman sneaks kisses as he pulls me close to him. He grabs a scarf from his closet before I can spy any umbrellas. “What’s this for?” I lean back, asking him as he quietly drapes the scarf around my neck in a smooth, practiced gesture.

  “Trust me, I wouldn’t want you to catch a chill, Hollywood.” A quick peck on the lips from him and now I want to skip the aquarium all together. Screw seeing cute sea animals, my legs are weak and I feel adrift standing in Roman’s presence.

  “We could see the aquarium tomorrow,” I whisper shyly and he leans his head down to mine, his eyes close, and then open looking exhausted, as if he’s run miles. I’m glad I’m not the only one affected here.

  “Then we would never leave this apartment,” he growls, and I have to nod and agree.

  Muttering, I pout, “As if that would be so terrible?” We’ve been so into each other since we left Gold Beach, I guess it would b
e nice to finally go out and see the city he loves so much.

  “Come on, brat, live a little.” Roman opens another closet and walks in, taking my hand with his. The one wall is lined with umbrellas. Different sizes, colors, and fabrics. I never knew there were so many kinds of umbrellas. Okay, he wasn’t kidding when he said he had a ‘collection’ of umbrellas. If he had a crazy cat lady aunt, I would have sworn he had an umbrella gifted to him for every birthday or holiday that passed.

  “Blame Maddie. I swear I haven’t purchased a single one of them. You’d think Seattle doesn’t have a day of sunshine ever.” I look back at him amazed, and he laughs, nudging me forward to pick one out.

  “Well, does it?”

  “Occassionally,” he chuckles and I nod. “I don’t lie about these things,” he says, and of course, how could one lie about several dozen umbrellas?

  “No, you definitely don’t,” I say and grab the first one I see. I’ll have to ask Maddie about her fascination with gifting umbrellas when I return to Gold Beach.

  ROMAN

  Watching Abby get out of the shower was torture…Wrapping a scarf of mine around her neck was a little like marking my territory. Walking to the aquarium in an afternoon sprinkle under an umbrella covered in pink flowers and butterflies…now that was a bit emasculating, but I managed to survive. This reminds me to tell Maddie once again, no more damn umbrellas. My collection is something ridiculous and not one of my own making.

  We walk on the sidewalk, dodging other couples and kids not yet in school, on our way to the aquarium. Being much taller than Abby, I hold the umbrella and navigate the way. It makes holding her hand difficult and disappointing for the twenty-minute trek from my building. I haven’t been to the aquarium in a year, maybe two, but the layout is still familiar.

  “So when was the last time you visited a place like this?” I watch Abby look through the glass wall of the aquarium behind a group of pushy little kids fighting to see the larger fish swim by them. Her forehead is a little scrunched up as she searches for the fish darting between rocks and plants. Her expression is thoughtful and distracted, and I wonder what she thinking so deeply about.

  “Um… I must have been eleven. It was definitely before my mom’s first cancer treatment, probably before we all found out what had been making her so tired and sick all the time. She took Leah and me down to San Diego for the weekend. My dad didn’t come on the trip and we went to Sea World. I couldn’t wait to see the seahorses, seals, and penguins.” Her hand touches the thick Plexiglas of the tank and I know she’s lost in a thought about her mother.

  “What was she like?” I feel terrible for bringing it up, but I guess these will be the moments we learn from each other’s past experiences.

  “She was beautiful, smart… I remember her cooking a lot and braiding our hair for school.” Abby touches her loose braid reverently, her loss keenly present. Her mother was taken quickly by cancer and mine instantly by a drunk driver. Neither is something a kid can emotionally plan for, and we’ve both got open wounds still.

  “She was always home for us, which I guess is easily taken for granted. You never know which moment will end up being the most precious or last.”

  I tug her into my arms. A vice constricts around my chest and guilt over the last moment with my mother surfaces.

  “Definitely not.” There isn’t much I can say that’s comforting, so I offer Abby my arms. Her warm breath puffs against my chest and I hope to hell I haven’t made her cry. I already know we have to talk about what will happen in a few weeks when she goes back to L.A., but I want to push that away for as long as I can.

  “My sister was all about the predatory fish,” Abby mumbles against me, and I can’t help but laugh. She turns in my arms to look at me and scowls. “What? Why are you laughing?” She certainly knows how to break the ice.

  “Hollywood, you and your sister are lawyers. Please tell me she wasn’t fascinated by the sharks even at that age.” I’m trying really hard to not laugh, honestly I am, but covering my mouth doesn’t seem to be helping. Abby steps back, staring at me. She shakes her head in a combination of mad and cute before walking off to the next exhibit. “Awe, babe, come on. It was funny. Get it? Sharks and lawyers?” I’m forced to dodge between kids and adults in the exhibit hallway to catch up to her.

  “Uh-huh. Yup. Funny.” Abby continues the façade of being pissed at me as she stands before another exhibit. This one showcases the seahorses she loves. Tilting her head, she watches them hover and dart through the water and plants. I come up next to her from behind and kiss her neck. “Why can’t I ever stay mad at you?” she whispers.

  “Because I’m the only one who lets you be who you are.” My lips reach desperately to kiss her neck again, but she steps away. Little brat.

  “And that would be?” Panic floods my gut for a moment because I’m going to be honest. Hey, she did ask.

  “Totally stubborn and completely bratty.” Huffing, she jabs her small fist into my stomach, so I grab her hand. I can’t have her leaving me amid toddlers and strollers ready to mow me down. “Come on, the seal show is going to start soon.” I pull her toward the outdoor enclosure before she can think about what I said too much.

  Just as we’re rounding the corner to the seal exhibit, I stop, causing Abby to bump into me. “Oomph! Roman?” Abby’s voice is muffled because her face is in my back.

  “Sorry, Abby. I uh...” I don’t know what to say because the person in front of me is greeting kids and parents happens to be… well, one of those ex’s I didn’t think I was going to ever see again. Honestly, when we ended things amicably, she just didn’t cross my mind again, and so I kind of forgot she works here. As in, at the aquarium. It wasn’t Sasha, thank God.

  Turns out, Aryn Lavoie moved up from an assistant to the lead seal trainer here at the aquarium. Shit. “Abby, I’m kind of hungry. Do you, uh…?” I turn around so she can’t see Aryn, but I’m obviously having one of those ‘let’s meet every girl I banged before Abby day’ Inwardly, I’m groaning in misery because this is not how I planned to have Abby get to know me better.

  “Um, no, I’m not. We ate at your place, remember? Roman, what’s going on?” She peers around me.

  “Nothing, I, uh…” I’m so busted.

  “Roman? Roman Winters?” Aryn spots me. Fuck my luck like a duck. I turn and prepare myself to face the music and hope Abby isn’t a jealous ‘claw your face off’ kind of girl, though I’m sure she’s had tons of practice schooling her reaction being a professional shark.

  “Hey, Aryn. Abby, this is Aryn. Aryn, Abby,” I say cautiously, introducing the girls and giving her a weird wave, so I don’t have to shake her hand. It’s kind of strange to shake a girl’s hand after having sixty-nined with her, wait… forget I said that.

  “Hi, I’m Abigail Holliday.” Abby steps forward and offers Aryn a handshake. “It’s nice to meet you. I just love the seal exhibit.” Abby is polite and perfect while I’m still processing how to not throw up over botching our day.

  “Hi there, I’m Aryn Lavoie. You must be a new… friend of Roman’s?” Aryn’s question, obviously demanding more information. Abby laughs, giving me an anxious feeling. Oh, I am so screwed later and not in a good way.

  “Yeah, pretty much.” Abby keeps smiling and I’m ready for the bagpipers to plan my funeral processional. “So, how long have you been a seal trainer?” she inquires with that deadly politeness.

  “Oh, only the last eighteen months or so. I’ve worked here about five years though, since graduation. I mostly do the shows now and kid-education programs on sea life. I love it, except for all the dead fish, you know, eh?” The more Aryn talks to us, I notice she still has her Canadian accent.

  “Wow, that’s great. This is my first time here, so I can’t wait to see the show.” Abby and Aryn keep exchanging pleasantries as if they are communicating on some level I can’t understand. Their eyes dart back and forth to me, and it’s all very weird. I’m sure it’s some kind of
girl code for: ‘Oh, he didn’t tell you about me? Well, kick his ass later because he probably did something dickish, eh?’

  “Well, it was great meeting you and seeing you again, Roman. I’ve got to get back to my babies here. Feel free to stop by after the show, if you want, and I’ll let you feed them.” Aryn ushers in more parents and kids past us and I just want this encounter to end quickly without an international incident.

  “Yeah, sure.” I run my hands through my hair. “Maybe another time? We have early dinner plans, but it was nice seeing you,” I mumble and Aryn skips off, yeah skips off, because she is one of those peppy, always happy types of people. I wasn’t in a good head space when I was with Aryn, so I’m reminded of why that relationship didn’t work at the time. I follow after Abby who walks into the small stage area to watch the seal show and finds us seats in the middle of the risers.

  “So what’s up with Aryn?”

  “Huh?” The whole encounter has left me a little weirded out, especially after running into Sasha this morning at Starbucks.

  “Aryn? You know, pretty seal trainer with killer legs, long brown hair, and obvious Canadian accent? That Aryn, we just met.” Abby’s voice has an edge to it, and I think she might be feeling as awkward as I do.

  “Oh, Aryn. That, Aryn, right. Well, we dated, I guess.” My male brain is warning me to stick to the facts and not give Abby more details than necessary. I’ve been told girls will run wild with details, and I’m not a total jerk that I want to risk upsetting Abby or disrespect someone who was nice, but all wrong for me. “How do you guess a date? Either you did or didn’t, right?” It’s her lawyer voice I’m coming to learn that questions me.