by Ward, H. M.
“I am with you, Avery.” He leans over and presses his back against me, taking a fist full of my breast in his hand. He squeezes me, and rubs my nipple gently. My hips involuntarily buck against him. “You’ll have to be more specific, Beautiful.”
“Fuck me.” My voice is shaking and breathy when I say it, when I beg him.
“You want me to fuck you, baby?” I nod vigorously and look over my shoulder, waiting and hoping that he’ll take me. “Tell me how much you want it. Tell me how badly you want my dick.”
“I need you, baby. I want your dick so much, more than anything else. I want to feel how hard and sharp you are when you push inside of me. I want it, Sean. I need you to fuck me. I need it so much. Please, baby, please. Fuck me hard. Take me. Please, Sean…” My begging becomes frantic as I try to think of what else I can say to convince him how much I want to be with him.
Sean shifts against me, hard and ready. I must have said the right thing, because he slips his fingers out of me and shifts his hips. I feel him brush against me and then he pushes in so slowly that it’s all I can manage to stay still.
The insane desire to ride him like a pogo stick rushes through me and I can’t help it—I push back against him, slamming my hips into his, and forcing him deep inside of me quickly. A high-pitched sound comes from my throat as I buck against him over and over.
Sean has me so close to the edge that a breeze would make me come, and I do. Wildly, I slam my hips back against him, as waves of pleasure course through me. I’m spent, breathless and leaning over the edge of the bench.
Sean continues to rock into me, slowly, firmly, and then pulls out. His fingers lightly touch my back and I don’t realize what he’s doing until his lips are on my skin. There’s a spot on my back, just under my shoulder, that is as sensitive as the one on my neck. It’s like my body came equipped with slut buttons I never knew were there. Sean seems to know. He pushes himself in and out, slowly, and when his lips come down on that spot on my back, I nearly jerk upright.
That touch, the way it feels, is so charged that I can’t sit still. Sean presses me down, stilling me, and continues to work the spot with his lips and then his tongue. My mind is completely gone. It floats away and doesn’t come back. Desperation shoots through me when I feel the need to be ridden, again.
My heart races harder and faster as Sean works his magic, pushing buttons that I didn’t know I had. I cry out as my fingernails dig into the fabric on the pillow in front of me. Sean pushes a finger between my legs and up inside of me.
He purrs in my ear as he breathes deeply. His hand moves faster, as he kisses my back. By the time he stops to fuck me, I’m someone else. My body is on fire, demanding his dick, wanting him pounding into me. And he does, oh God, he does. Sean takes hold of my hips and pushes in so hard and deep. Then he does it again, and again, until he’s riding me so roughly that it should hurt, but it doesn’t. I want him like this, and I want more.
As the sensations build within me, I climb higher and higher. Needing release, I scream as I buck into him too many times to count, and I finally shatter. Gasping, I cry out and he pushes into me once, hard. Breathless, I lean there, unable to move, and listen to him moan. His fingers are clutching my hips and I feel more sated than I have ever felt in my life. I can barely breathe, and I notice how wet we are, but I don’t think he came. I glance back at him and ask.
There’s a sultry smile on his face. Sean leans forward and kisses me. “Not yet, baby. That was you.” It takes a moment for it to sink in—I came and he’s soaked? I did that? Before embarrassment hits me in the head like a frying pan, Sean says, “And it was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I want to take you over to the bed and lick you until you come in my mouth. Oh my God, Avery. Do you have any idea how sexy you are? It’s like you’re a goddess sent here to torment me.”
Sean pulls away and then turns me toward him. He strips the rest of my clothes before carrying me over to the bed. He sets me down and fans my hair around my head before asking, “Ready for more, Miss Smith?”
I grin, I can’t help it. I want more. “Always.”
15
Sean and I part ways in the early hours of the morning. As he packs up his things, it hits me hard. I manage to smile and say good-bye without crying. I keep thinking that Sean will offer something more, but he doesn’t. His blue eyes avoid mine, like he’s sorry this didn’t work out.
I wish I could stay, I wish I could say yes, but I can’t.
“So this is it, then?” I’m standing next to the door with my bag over my shoulder as I strangle the handle on my suitcase. I swear to God, it’s going to crack in my fist. I hate this, but I chose it. Things are over and I’m the one who ended them. I smile at him, like I’m fine with it, even though I’d rather shove glass shards into my eyeballs.
“I guess so.” Sean stops packing and struts over to the door. The black dress shirt he’s wearing is open, revealing his beautiful chest. My eyes wander to his abs and linger too long. “My eyes are up here, Smitty.” I glance up to find him smiling at me. Sean closes the distance between us and takes me in his arms. He kisses my cheek and releases me.
I don’t know what to say to fill the silence. I don’t know how to fix this. It seems wrong to leave him, but I have to. There’s no compromise, no alternative. Things just weren’t meant to be, which seems like a pansy-ass thing to say, until it happens to you.
My mind is reeling, trying to figure out something else, but there isn’t anything else. Sean came into town and now it’s over. I manage, “Call me next time you’re in New York.”
He nods once and reaches for the doorknob. As he pulls it open, Sean says, “I will. Take care of yourself, Avery.” Our eyes lock and the pit of my stomach drops. I want to lean into him, I want his arms to wrap around me and hold me tight—but none of those things happen.
“Right back at you, Motorcycle Man.” My voice picks up a quiver and I know that I can’t linger without busting a hole in my tear ducts. They feel swollen under my face, like I’ll flood the whole damn island if I don’t get out of there. I step through the door and walk down the hallway without looking back.
It’s the last time I’ll see Sean Ferro. I’m certain of it.
* * *
By the time Gabe drops me off at the dorm, it’s nearly seven in the morning. It’s Sunday, which means Amber is probably sound asleep. I walk down the quiet halls feeling like there’s an anvil on my chest. Sean isn’t the guy for me. He doesn’t want what I want. We’re too incompatible, so why am I upset? It’s better that I found out now. It has to be, right?
Gabe told me to get some rest and that he’d be back for me later this afternoon. I can’t even imagine faking my way through being with Henry. The whole situation is too much. I slip into my room and trip over something in the darkness. My emotions are so frayed that I can’t stop the rush of expletives that are cascading from my mouth.
Amber yells at me and flicks on the light next to her bed. “Holy shit, Avery. Could you be any louder?” I glance at her. Amber is sitting up with a sheet clutched against her naked chest with too much boob poking out for me to look at her.
I glance down to see what I tripped on—shoes. I stare at them for a moment and then look up wide-eyed. “No, no, no. Tell me you didn’t—”
“I was lonely and he was—” Amber’s shoulders rise until they swallow her neck and she gives me a sheepish look.
A male voice finishes her sentence. “Utterly fuckable. Yeah, I am.” Naked Guy walks past me in his birthday suit, which makes my eye twitch. “Hey roomie, nice dress.”
“He can’t stay here.” My brain is melting. I feel it boil over and leak out of my ears. I don’t have the patience for this. I don’t. In the calmest voice I can muster, I manage, “Amber, so help me God, he needs to leave right now or I’ll—”
Naked Guy slips into bed next to Amber and grins at me. “Take a chill pill, little lady. I was just showing my friend Amber a good time. I’d be happ
y to let you take a ride on Giant when we’re done. Yeah, I named him Giant, because there’s no point to calling him Little, right, Amber?”
Amber has a goofy smile on her face. I feel like I’m her mother, not her roommate, which rubs me wrong. My left eye twitches as I stare at her, waiting for her to toss him out, but she doesn’t.
“Of course,” I mutter and shake my head. I disappear into our tiny bathroom and change as fast as I can.
It’s the butt-crack of dawn and I’m so not dealing with them right now. I slip on a pair of sneakers and glance at the purple coat Sean bought me. I grab it and dart out the door. As I head down the hallway, I ram straight into Mel.
We smack together before I realize it’s her. “I’m sorry… Oh, hey. Late night?”
Mel nods after shaking off the irritation of being bumped. It’s like Mel can’t fathom someone not seeing her. Right then I wasn’t seeing anyone because I had Naked Guy burned into the back of my eyelids. Gross.
“Yeah, just getting back. Where are you headed?”
“Out of here. Naked Guy is back and I don’t want to witness the bumping of uglies. There’s enough ugly in my room already. I’m going to grab breakfast and sit at the dock or something until my client later today.”
Mel nods slowly, like she’s waiting for me to elaborate, but I don’t. She folds her arms over her pretty dress and cocks her head to the side. “You want to talk about it?”
“No. It’s a job, Mel. In fact, I’m signing on with Black for more contracts when I see her later.”
Mel’s golden eyes narrow like she knows that I’m not telling her something. “Yeah, and what about Ferro?”
“He left town, so it’s not like he’ll be booking me again.” My voice catches in the back of my throat. “Asking for more clients is a good thing, right? I mean, that way I can set aside some money before finals come. I was hoping not to work much the last few weeks of school.”
Mel nods. “Maybe—but Avery, do me a favor and take it slow. You don’t need to fuck Manhattan to get over him.”
“Sean asked me to stay with him,” I don’t look at her as I say it. Instead, I twist the hem of my coat sleeve. I didn’t plan on telling anyone that, but the words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. I feel like I’ve been through an emotional shredder and from the way Mel is looking at me, it must be visible on my face. “He offered to pay me so I could stop working for Black.”
One of Mel’s dark brows rises as her mouth opens. For a moment, she’s speechless, which is super-weird. “What? What are you talking about?”
“He said he loves me, and offered to make me his mistress.”
Mel blinks at me. “What’d you say?”
“I said no, that it wasn’t my dream to be someone’s mistress. I want more, and he doesn’t—so Sean walked away.” My voice is too soft, too steady. I blink away the stinging that’s been building behind my eyes and smile at her. “I know you hated him, but he meant something to me. I just need to make sure I have no extra time so I can’t think about him. I’ll fill up my weekends with work and focus on school. It’ll be all right.”
“Honey, I don’t know if you should—”
I start to walk past her with a plastic smile on my face. It feels so wrong, so utterly out of place. “I’m fine, Mel. I’ll see you tonight. We can have pancakes for dinner. I know you’ve been dying to go to IHOP for a while.”
Mel says she’ll talk to me later, but she has that concerned look on her face—the kind people give when they know you’re in over your head. I head down to my car and turn the engine over. I love that it starts on the first try. I love that the windows close and the seatbelt works. I stop thinking about these things because they lead my thoughts back to Sean.
16
Captree is a little park down by Robert Moses beach. There are docks and that’s where I go after stopping at a deli to grab an egg on a roll and a cup of coffee. I walk to the end of a pier, past some people waiting to board a fishing boat, sit down, and dangle my legs over the edge. It’s not as cold today.
The wind whips my hair into my mouth as I bite down. I spit out the bite of sandwich and the hair and continue to claw at my tongue. I think I swallowed some hair, which skeeves me out.
“Hey, stranger,” he says. I glance over my shoulder and see Marty standing behind me with his hands in the pockets of his corduroy barn coat. His hair is blown every which way, and his cheeks are rosy, like he’s been down here for a while.
“What are you doing here?” I never figured out what to say to Marty after he told me that he had feelings for me. Besides, how do you forgive someone for lying like that?
You forgave Mel, my inner voice reminds me.
“I’m going out on a flounder boat for the day. Thought I’d do something manly for a change.” He gives me a crooked smile.
My eyes don’t meet his for long. I can’t look at him without regret pooling into my mouth like vomit. I miss him, I know I do, but I don’t know how to get past what he did. Do I just pretend it never happened? Do I act like Marty’s just a friend, even when I know he wants more? Everything seems so hard and I wish to God that it wasn’t. I want my Marty back, but that guy doesn’t exist. This one does—the guy in the thick coat with the chapped cheeks.
“You know how to fish?”
“Not really,” Marty steps closer and sits next to me. “How hard can it be?”
“You know you have to touch worms and shove hooks through their wriggling bodies, right?”
“Yup, I brought gloves.” He pulls out a pair of yellow plastic dishwashing gloves, which makes me laugh.
“You can’t use those!”
Marty gives me a sideways look that says he’s teasing, trying to make me smile like he used to. It’s weird how much a person can communicate with a single look. “I planned on wearing a yellow rain coat and matching boots, but I thought the other wharf guys would make fun of me.”
“Ya think?”
“Yeah, but what’s life without a little color?”
“You can drop the gay thing, Marty.”
“What gay thing? A guy can’t like yellow?” He bumps his shoulder into mine and I bump him back. I take a few bites of my sandwich before he says, “Are we good?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah, we’re good, or close enough. Gooder, maybe.”
The tension in Marty’s shoulders lessens. I rip off a piece of my roll and hand it to him. Marty pops it into his mouth. “Would you like to come with me? I’m pretty sure the boat isn’t full.”
“Can’t. I have to work this afternoon.”
“Oh.” Marty goes silent. It’s like I took an ax to the conversation and killed it.
“Want to come to dinner with me and Mel later? We’re IHOP-ing it.”
“Yeah, sounds great. I’ll have worked up a manly appetite by then, and will have a serious craving for some crepes.” I laugh again and hand him another piece of my roll. Marty pops it into his mouth and says, “Don’t hang out here by yourself for too long.”
“Because of the bodies in the marsh? Marty that was a long time ago. No one is going to kill me.”
“No, because I don’t want the ghosts of the dead hookers to show up and give you tips.”
I smack his shoulder hard and Marty fakes falling to the side. I grab his arm and pull him back before he really falls off the dock. I punch his arm lightly. It had been a teasing gesture between us once. I wonder if we’ll ever have that back. The corner of my mouth tips up and I shake my head, laughing lightly. “Asshole.”
“I told you I’m not gay. You can call me dick, now.” He says it proudly, like I’m a dick should be plastered on his tee shirt.
“Go catch your boat, dick. They’re going to leave without you.” I shake my head as Marty jumps up. He looks down the dock to where his boat is boarding. A large scruffy man hollers last call.
“See you later?”
“Yeah.”
When did my life turn to shit? Was it before o
r after I met Black? I’m not sure anymore. It seems that I traded one set of problems for another.
As I watch Marty board his boat, regret squeezes my ribcage with its giant hands. I wish things could go back to the way they were. Life before Black was less complicated. I was poor, but I had friends. Now I have the cash I need to do what I want, but I’ve damaged all of my relationships—and my heart.
17
When I get back to the room, Amber is gone. Relieved, I jump in the shower and let the scalding water turn me lobster-colored. When I get out, I step from the tiny bathroom with a towel around my body and dripping hair. I seriously need to do wash, because there never seem to be enough towels.
My phone chirps, so I walk over to it. Tucking a damp piece of hair behind my ear, I look down at the text message, hoping beyond reason that it’s Sean and that he’s changed his mind. But when I lift it and look at the screen, it isn’t. Hope is stupid. It keeps making me do irrational things. Sean isn’t coming back for me—he’s gone. I need to accept it and move on.
There’s a picture of Marty holding a tiny fish with his yellow gloves. It makes me smile. He’s such a dork, but I know he sent it to try and cheer me up.
Mel plows through the door, and looks up at me. “Where the hell do you think we live? In fucking Banjo-land? Lock your damn door, Avery. I could have been a serial killer for Chrissakes.”
“Or Naked Guy.” Mel and I shudder in unison as our faces scrunch up in disgust. I grab my brush and start on my hair. “He offered to do me after Amber this morning. Real classy.”
“You want me to show him my mad ninja skills with knives? That’ll turn him whiter than he already is.” Mel grins like she’s thinking about something specific, which is a little bit scary.
“You don’t need to cut anyone for me. I’m good.” I flip my hair over and brush it out. “I’ll take a rain check.”
“Oh? You got plans or something?”
