by Kim Jones
He carries me up the stairs, pausing in the den for a moment before taking me into his room. Prying my limbs from around him, he deposits me on the bed where I land with a soft thud. He pulls off my boots and pants, then pulls me to a sitting position before removing my jacket. My nipples are pressed hard against the fabric of my shirt, drawing his eyes to my breasts.
“Did you leave your headlights on, or are you just happy to see me?” he jokes, ridding me of my shirt, but leaving me in my bra.
“I’m just cold,” I say, unable to find a cool comeback. His smirk fades, replaced with an understanding smile.
“I know, babe.” He pulls one of his shirts from the dresser then slips it over my head. Pushing me to my back, he pulls the covers up to my chin and kisses me chastely on the lips. “Night, Red.” I watch him walk away, turning off the light before walking back into the upstairs den.
“That’s it?” I call, as he’s shutting the door. I was hoping for another late night love scene. Or at least for him to sleep with me. I didn’t want him to put me to bed like a child, and then disappear to do whatever in the hell it is he does.
“My chickens need me,” he says with a smirk. I need him too, but I don’t say that.
“If you were planning to leave, why didn’t you just put me in my own damn bed?” I huff, acting like a moody teenager instead of a grown woman.
“I just did.” He shuts the door before I can answer, leaving me with the knowledge that his bed and my bed, are now one in the same.
***
I’ve often wondered what Regg’s mouth on my pussy would feel like, and by the way he’s sliding my panties down my legs, I have a feeling I’m fixing to find out.
“What are you doing?” I ask, fully awake now that he is back in the room. I know what he’s doing, but I want to hear him say it. He’s between my legs, the covers forgotten as he replaces the warmth of them with the heat of his body.
“I’ve wanted to taste this sweet pussy all night.” He doesn’t bother kissing his way up my legs or teasing me. When Regg wants something, he goes in for the kill. Pushing my knees as far apart as they will go, he buries his face between my legs, running his nose up my pussy, then dragging his tongue back down my slit. The act has my back arching off the bed, and I grip the sheets beneath me to keep from pulling his hair out. He moans against my clit, letting the vibrations from the sound add to the pleasure his tongue gives me. Placing his hands beneath my ass, his thumbs lay on either side of my swollen lips, opening me up completely to him.
“You taste just like you smell. The sweetest kind of sin.” I assume that’s a good thing. I mean, he could have said I taste like diet Pepsi. Nobody likes that shit. And by the way he’s devouring me, he likes his sin sweet. His tongue moves in the motion of an eight, never giving me enough to come, just enough to make me writhe and beg beneath him. He shows no mercy as minutes pass and he continues his slow, circuitous movement. When I can stand it no longer, when my body is on the brink of combustion and my ache for release becomes almost painful, he gives me what I want. Focusing the attention of his tongue on my clit, he pulls the small, sensitive bud into his mouth and sucks. I come hard, my orgasm hitting me in waves that intensify with every beat of my heart, causing my body to jerk in response. I scream, my voice echoing off the walls so loud that I bite down on my lip to contain it.
“Scream for me, beautiful. Nobody here to listen but me.” I whimper at his words. Every time he says something to me, another wave of ecstasy ripples through me at the sound of his voice. Nobody’s words have ever made me feel as special and wanted as his do.
I’m still blinking away the stars from my vision when he slides up my body. Running his hands up my sides, he removes my shirt and bra in one swift determined motion. Cupping my breasts in his hands, he takes a moment to feel the weight of them against his palms before lowering his mouth to my nipple, pulling it between his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. He pulls a condom out of thin air, ripping it open and sliding it over his cock. I take him in my hand, feeling him for the first time. He’s long and thick, and I can feel him growing as I stroke him harder.
Grabbing my hand, he pins it behind my head before covering his body with mine. He kisses me deep, guiding himself inside of me.
“Fuck, that feels good,” I say, breaking from his mouth because the need to tell him how much I like this is too much to contain. His hips roll in a slow and steady pace, giving me exactly what my body craves. He kisses my neck, my mouth, down my chest-everywhere, but never slows his stride. This is not fucking. This is making love, but just like fucking, Regg is good at it.
He tells me I’m beautiful. He tells me how perfect I feel, and how he wants to stay buried inside of me all the time. He tells me things that make me feel loved, and it takes everything I have, not to utter the three words that could possibly send him running away from me.
We come together, our bodies seeming to know when the other is near its climax. I long to feel him without a condom. I want to feel the hot bursts of cum as he explodes inside of me. But, even wrapped in latex, the feeling is amazing. He pulls out of me slowly, never letting his mouth leave my face or his hands leave my body. I curl into him, letting him fold me into his arms and hold me tight to his chest. It’s just too perfect. My whole life I’ve been alone. I’ve never felt what I feel when I’m with him. It’s not just safety and warmth. It’s so much more. It’s a need that can’t be filled by any other. And the feeling doesn’t just come from me. I can sense that he needs this just like I do.
“I’m tired of being lonely,” I say to the darkness. I don’t know why I said the words out loud, but his response has me glad that I did.
“You don’t have to be lonely anymore.” If I didn’t think I loved him before, now I’m absolutely, positively sure of it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Small Places, Tiny Spaces and Little Brothers
I’m eight weeks into my sentence. I only have four to go before I’m released back into the real world. It’s bittersweet. Part of me doesn’t want to leave in fear of what will happen to Regg and I when I do. The other part of me can’t wait to get the hell outta this place, so I can start making my own decisions and my own mistakes again.
Even though being with Regg is great, something is still missing. I can feel my passion to dance dying, and it scares the shit outta me. I don’t want to give it up, but I know that it’s the right thing to do. Brooklyn was right. I would never be able to have a career in dancing because it was that path that led me to the drugs. I will not allow myself to go back down that road again. Ever.
Dancing is a part of me, though. It helps make sense of a world full of shit that I don’t understand. Regg’s house has to be at least three thousand square feet, but every day I feel like it shrinks a little more. Now, the huge upstairs den where I do cardio every afternoon isn’t so huge. The massive downstairs den where Regg and I watch movies isn’t so massive. The kitchen that is small in comparison to the rest of the house, now feels like a closet.
The only time I’ve been out of the house has been when I went for my scheduled drug screenings, twice with Regg on the bike and once on a late night trip to get ice cream with Brooklyn. I find myself going to the farm to work with Regg, just for a change in scenery-not that I actually work. The problem has me on the verge of a mental breakdown, and I find myself torn with what to do.
I’ve been like this for a few days, and told Regg I just needed some space. He never questioned me, just gave me what I asked for. Now, it’s after three in the morning, I’m lying awake in bed, in my own room. Sleeping by myself presented more of a problem than what I had anticipated. The first night, I stayed awake for hours until I finally passed out from exhaustion. The next night, I fell asleep on the couch with Regg, but woke up in my room. Tonight, nothing is working and I’m on my feet, making my way to the adjoining door of our rooms before I know it.
“You awake?” I whisper to the darkness, my mind battling
between hoping he is and hoping he isn’t.
“Yeah, babe. I’m awake.” His voice is alert, making me wonder if he’s been lying in bed thinking like I have. I tiptoe across the cold floor to his bed, crawling under the covers that he holds up for me, and turning into his side. His body is warm and inviting. His hard chest presses against me as he grabs my waist, pulling me tighter to him.
“I miss dancing,” I say into his neck. He kisses my head while his hand slips under my shirt to rub my back.
“I noticed that at Punkin’s party. You seemed pretty lost in the moment.” I think back to that night, how free I felt. It was the first time in years that I danced without being under the influence of something. “I don’t want to hold you back from doing something you love, Red,” he says, tilting my chin up so that I’m looking at him. The moonlight filters in through the windows, allowing me to see the compassion and understanding in his eyes.
“I can’t dance, Regg. I know it will only lead me back to the drugs. I’m not strong enough to refuse them.” My eyes drift to his lips. I want him to kiss me. As if he can read my mind, he lowers his mouth to mine, giving me a deep, passionate kiss that I wasn’t aware I needed until now. He pulls away all too soon, and when his body moves over mine, I’m sure it’s to give me more of him. But he stands and pulls on his jeans and his boots.
“What are you doing?” I ask, sitting up in bed to look at him.
“Stay in bed. This bed. I have to go to the farm.” I look over at the clock, which reads twenty-five minutes after three in the morning.
“I didn’t hear your alarm,” I say, confused by his sudden energy and quick departure.
“Farmer’s intuition. I’ll be back later.” He leans down, giving me one last long slow kiss before he stands to leave.
“Want me to come with you?” I ask, already pulling the covers off to get up.
“Stay. Get some sleep. I’ll be back in a little while.” He leaves, and I listen to his heavy footsteps as he walks down the stairs.
“Well, that was weird,” I say to the darkness, grabbing his pillow to curl up with. Even though he’s gone, the scent of him fills my head, and like a lullaby, it puts me to sleep.
***
“I’m Todd,” the young guy at the door says. It’s just before noon and Regg still hasn’t returned. When I heard a knock downstairs, I figured he’d left his keys and needed me to let him in. I was surprised to find a younger, brown haired, tanned version of him instead. The boy stands as tall as Regg, with bright blue eyes, wearing a ball cap with a backpack slung over his shoulder.
“Hey, Todd,” I say, becoming nervous at his sudden presence.
“Regg is still working. He sent me over here with lunch.” From the front pocket of his backpack, Todd presents me something shaped like a hotdog wrapped in foil. “It’s a smoked sausage dog. It’s really good.” His cheeks redden and I have to fight the urge to pinch them. I smile, motioning for him to come inside and letting him lead me to the kitchen. I sit at the table, watching in amusement as he makes his way around the kitchen getting glasses, napkins and the jug of sweet tea from the fridge.
“So, Todd,” I start, feeling like I should strike up some kind of conversation. “You’re Regg’s brother?”
“Yes ma’am. Sorry, Reggie doesn’t usually have company.” He calls him Reggie. How sweet. And he says ma’am. How respectful. He looks a little nervous now that his hands aren’t busy. I take the sausage dog from him, noticing that he’s brought one for himself too, and I don’t hesitate taking a huge bite.
“Shit, this is good,” I say through a mouthful of food. I grab the mustard from the fridge, squirting a generous amount on my sausage before offering it to him. He declines with a wave of his hand, and I shrug, placing it between us in case he changes his mind. All dogs, no matter what kind, are better with mustard. “How old are you?” I watch his cheeks redden again, and know that he may be Regg’s brother, but looks are all they have in common.
“Sixteen.” He meets my eyes when he speaks, but quickly looks down when he’s finished talking. That shy, cute boy act might not work in high school, but if he held on to it, he’d kill the ladies when he gets a little older.
“You play football?” I remember Luke and Regg’s conversation months back about Regg saying he was going to his little brother’s game. He was referring to Todd, unless he has another brother, which I doubt.
“Yes ma’am.” Okay, he was going to have to stop with the ma’am shit.
“Just call me Red. I’m not that damn old, you know.” He laughs and I feel the ice between us crack.
I learn that Todd lives with his aunt and uncle not too far from here. Regg offered to let him move in with him, but he’s lived with his aunt and uncle for most of his life and that is his home. Not only is he a football player, but he takes honors classes and has endless knowledge about guns and American History. When he starts to tell me about some German made rifle, I can see the passion in his eyes as he speaks.
He doesn’t ask what I do or who I am. He doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable or uneasy while he is here. He is very respectful, smart and loves his brother very much. There is no sign of him being brought up in anything other than a loving home. If Regg hadn’t already given me a hint of his past life weeks ago, I never would have guessed it.
Todd and I have yet to find anything in common with one another until he mentions something about a 007 video game.
“Goldeneye?” I ask, through a mouthful of food.
“You know it?”
“Know it? I’m a beast at it.” I’m not lying. Many people have tried to beat me, and they have all failed.
“Is that a challenge?” I match Todd’s smile with my own. “I mean, I got the game. I can bring it over right now.” Todd’s smile is gone and so is mine. Shit was fixing to get serious, and my excitement was through the roof at the thought.
“Well, what the hell you waitin’ for?”
“Shit!” Todd says when I find the golden gun before he does. “Don’t tell Regg I cussed. Shit!” I laugh at him as I chase his character down a hall and into a corner before taking his life with one shot.
“I won’t tell him,” I promise, pausing the game to get a refill of sweet tea. “You want something?”
“I’m good.” Todd is a great kid. We’ve been at it for most of the evening and he refuses to give up. I let him win one in hopes that he wouldn’t quit. It wasn’t necessary. The little shit is not a quitter.
Since I had Todd to entertain me, it allowed Regg’s absence to go unnoticed. He’d been gone since he left me this morning, but having his brother here is almost like having him around. Almost. I doubt Regg would play video games with me for endless hours.
I return to the living room where we have taken over Regg’s man cave with candy wrappers and game controllers.
“I can’t play but one more game. I have to be home by six. I have tests tomorrow and a pretty big game. We’re playing the Bulldogs for the district championship. Y’all comin’?”
I’m caught off guard by this question and totally unsure of what to say. “Um,” I start, trying like hell to come up with something that won’t be the wrong thing. If Regg hadn’t planned on going, I knew it was likely because of me. But, I didn’t have the right to confirm something that would ultimately let Todd down if Regg didn’t want to go. “I don’t know,” I say truthfully, offering him a smile. He gives me a smirk and I have to remind myself that he’s not Regg. And that he’s only sixteen. Thank God Regg doesn’t have any older brothers.
“I hope y’all do. It’s the last game of regular season.” Todd plays with the remote, using my distraction to choose the one setting in the game I suck at.
“Has he made any of your games this year?” I ask innocently, thinking back to every Friday night I’ve been here.
“Most of them. He missed a couple, but I know he’s busy with the club and all. He works a lot too. I help him during the summer and when I’m out on brea
k. Next week is Thanksgiving so I’ll work the whole week I’m out.”
“That sucks.” I know all too well. My evenings and holidays were always spent working when I was in school. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t have parents that bought me shit like cars and clothes. I guess Todd’s aunt and uncle are a lot like that too. Although, I’m sure they are that way because they wanted him to appreciate the finer things in life, not because they didn’t give a shit. I could never imagine Regg making Todd miss out on his childhood just to shovel chicken shit.
We focus our attention on the game, both of us fighting like hell to get to the golden gun before the other one does. I contemplate letting Todd win again. I want him to come back and play video games with me all the time. But, as I pass the room with the golden gun, I can’t resist. Thirty seconds later, he’s dead.
“Dammit!” he yells. I fall back, laughing my ass off as I program my name in the number three spot, completely knocking him out of the top ten. He mutters a string of cuss words through his smile, making me laugh harder. Some of them don’t even make sense.
“Hey, boy.” The room grows silent as I peek over the back of the couch to see a very tired, very dirty Regg standing just outside the kitchen door. “Watch your mouth.” Todd flushes with embarrassment and I shoot him a wink, letting him know that he has no reason to feel humiliated around me.
“He tells me to watch my mouth too,” I whisper, earning myself a smile from little brother. I help him pack up his game before walking him to the door. “Maybe we can play again soon?” I give him a hopeful look.
“Definitely. See ya later.” Regg follows him outside while I clean up our mess in the living room. Something about being around Todd made me feel like a teenager again. It was nice to laugh after three days of feeling sorry for myself.
