by Bella Grant
“Yes, I’m off,” I clarified.
He frowned at me. “I don’t trust your ex, Emily. Promise me you’ll stay safe.”
I fell in love with him a little more. “I suppose I’ll spend the day catching up on assignments,” I told him. “But I have to go to class tonight.”
He pressed his forehead against mine. “I know I’m being irrational right now, but I can’t help thinking this way because I’m concerned about your safety. I don’t mean to scare you, but I don’t think the summons nor a possible restraining order will work for that guy. He’s set on being with you, Em.”
“I doubt he’ll be around after last night.” I smiled at him, tightening my arms around his neck. “By the way, did I properly thank you last night for being there for me?” I started nibbling on his chin and could feel his rod hardening between my legs.
“If you keep that up, I’ll be late,” he protested weakly.
“I’m not doing anything,” I flirted outrageously. “Yet.”
“That’s it!” he announced, scooping me out of bed into his arms. We were both naked. “You can help wash my back afterwards.”
He carried me to the shower, where we lathered each other up and copped a feel here and there. And when I couldn’t take any more of his teasing, he turned me to stand with my back to him and my hands braced against the slippery wall. With the water pounding down on us, I spread my legs and moaned when he entered me slowly. He knew I wanted him but was a little sore from last night, so his thrusts were slow with even, long strokes. He hissed behind me as I pushed my butt closer to him to accept more of his length. His cock stretched me and filled me so I could feel every inch of him being sucked into my innermost flesh. His hands reached around me to cup my breasts, and he undulated his hips with each languid thrust.
“Oh, God, that feels so good,” I moaned, not sure if I could choose which of our sex I preferred. Fast and hard or slow and deep. Both had its own explosive impact.
“You like that, Em?” he asked on a groan. “Jesus, you’re so fucking tight. I can’t get enough of you.”
We continued babbling to each other, half of it repetition of how good he felt inside me, as he played my body with his. I would have slid to the floor of the shower when I came if he hadn’t caught me and held my body against him. He didn’t even miss a beat, his strokes faster and deeper now that he, too, reached the peak. His upper thighs slapped against my bouncing bottom, my back pressed to his chest. The water raining down on us made the sound echo across the room.
He pressed his cock deep into my body and hugged me tightly from behind, his teeth sinking into my shoulder as he shuddered from the force of his climax.
“Shit, you’re going to get me fired,” he growled, positioning me away from him. I allowed him to hurry up with his shower and he kissed me on the lips before leaving the bathroom. I continued with an idyllic washing of my body, and when I ran the wash cloth between my legs, there was no denying I had thoroughly been loved last night and this morning by Liam.
I assessed how I felt about the situation, but as much as my practical side warned me Liam and I hadn’t spoken about feelings and it could be nothing more than sex for him, I fanned the thought away. I was happy. I couldn’t remember the last time I simply enjoyed being with a man without wondering when he would search through my phone or when he would pop up somewhere unannounced.
I finished my shower and toweled my body dry. I noticed my basket of clothes was getting high. Liam’s too. I would do our laundry today while he was at work. Or should I? Was I assuming the role of a girlfriend, and would it spook him off that we were moving way too fast?
The last time you moved so fast, look what happened. The thought resounded in my head.
“It’s just freaking laundry,” I muttered and walked naked to my bedroom. Liam was dressed for work and sitting on the couch, pulling on a pair of tennis shoes. He started a whistle that caused me to grin and duck into my room. I felt ridiculous and loved it. The giddiness I felt inside was so strange. Had I ever felt this giddiness around Jake before? I couldn’t remember.
I had my bra and underwear on, searching in my drawer for something to wear, when a knock sounded on my door followed by Liam’s head pushing through the open door. He groaned at the sight of me.
“I swear you’re trying to keep me here,” he said. “But as tempting as this is”—he gestured to my body before continuing— “I’ve got to go.”
“Okay, see you later.”
He growled again. “Come here for a minute, will you?”
The shirt I had found to put on clutched in my hands, I walked over to the half-opened door. I knew what he wanted, and before he could ask for it, I pressed my mouth to his. This kiss was probably our most innocent. No tongue was involved. He kissed me slowly, sweetly, and I wanted to cry. He has to feel something for me beyond the sex, I thought. He had to. With one last peck on my lips, he left and I was alone.
I was occupied for much of the day, though the ache between my legs would not let me forget Liam so easily. I did our laundry, though I decided to use separate machines, and I finished an assignment. I filled in my chart with everything I bought from the list I had on my phone and scribbled the reason I had bought each item. I knew many students in the class would make up stuff. I was interested in the real results, so I followed the rules to the T.
I was studying when my phone rang, announcing a call from my mom. I answered guiltily because I should have called her before now. “Hi, Mom, how are you?”
“Don’t ‘hi, Mom’ me,” my mother said irritably. “We waited for you to call to find out how you are doing. You know we don’t like to interfere in your life all the time, so we wait for you to talk to us.”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I apologized genuinely. “To be fair, I was telling a friend last night that I needed to visit soon.”
“Would that be Miranda, dear?”
“Uh…no, mom. My new roommate.”
“Oh, so you found a place? You see, I have no idea what’s going on with you. Is she nice?”
“Is who nice?”
“The new girl…the new roommate.”
I chuckled nervously. My mom was old-fashioned and hadn’t been pleased at the idea of me living with Jake, but at the same time, I couldn’t lie to her. Regardless of me engaging in activities she wouldn’t necessarily agree with, she always supported me and loved me regardless.
“Well…my roommate isn’t a female,” I responded.
“What? You’re rooming with another male?” she asked in disbelief. “After all that happened with the first one?”
“It’s not like that, Mom. It’s not a relationship. I didn’t even know him before we started living together.” Oh, crap. Why did I tell her all that? Now she would freak out even more.
“Oh, my God, you didn’t! What if he’s a murderer or a rapist!”
“Now, Mom, he’s neither, so it doesn’t make sense that you get all worked up about it. Liam’s a great guy—not perfect, but he’s great.”
My mother must have picked up the mushiness of my tone as I spoke about Liam. “Good heavens, Emily, are you already sleeping with this man?”
I blushed and was thankful she couldn’t see me. Thank God she hadn’t figured out video calling yet. “Mom, that’s not something I want to discuss with you.”
“Bah! Your response tells me all I need to know. I can’t tell you how to live your life, Emily, but I can caution you to take care.”
“And I promise I will.”
Several minutes later, when we hung up, I sighed. I’d promised her my week of vacation would be soon and I would visit them then. Would my parents approve of Liam? I was afraid they wouldn’t. Not because they were discriminatory or anything, but because he had no drive or ambition. It worried me too. If we were to get into a relationship, how long would it be before his lack of ambition to do anything with his life other than work in a music department store caught up with me?
I work
ed in a department store, but it wasn’t the plan for my life. I was working to better myself, and once I had my degree, I would find a better job. I wished he had that same kind of mindset.
My pencil strummed on my desk as I pondered it instead of finishing my assignment. And then the answer came to me. His music! He could do something with that, but how to convince him he was good enough to pursue it instead of thinking of his talent as a hobby?
20
Liam
“Whew! That was explosive!”
I flopped onto my back, my heart racing, staring up at the ceiling in the same position Emily was in beside me. Another night of amazing sex. I kept telling myself that one day, the sparkle, the glitter, and the fireworks would fizzle out, but a month had passed and the sex was like nothing I’d ever experienced with another woman.
The sex was amazing. Emily was amazing. It scared the crap out of me, but I was close to telling her I was falling for her. What was there not to like about her? She was considerate and loving, not to mention kind. She still nagged every now and then and sometimes we argued, like the time I finally confessed to her I had deliberately been messy before to annoy her.
“You did what?” she had shouted at me. “Why would you do that?”
“You look so cute when you’re mad.”
She had tried to storm furiously from the room until I reeled her into my arms and kissed her. In minutes, she was panting under me, our fight forgotten.
I would have told her how I felt before, but she seemed happy enough with the way things were between us. She never asked for anything more, and I wondered if she even wanted anything more. Girls were different these days, and not everyone wanted a committed relationship. Funny, I’d pegged her as the commitment type and didn’t know what to think now that she hadn’t said anything. The girls I’d been with before had always brought up the subject and wanted to ‘define’ what we had.
I doubted her friend was aware of our relationship—which was also odd considering women always chatted about their boyfriends. The couple times I’d met Miranda, she seemed like a cool girl, but she never so much as hinted that she knew we were an item. Which made me question if we were an item. What did we have going for us so far? Mind-blowing sex. We’d started doing each other’s laundry when we were off from work. We had breakfast together almost every morning, which she prepared. Half her things could be found in my room and half of mine could be found in hers. When she didn’t have class, we carpooled together to work. If that wasn’t a relationship, then I had no idea what a relationship was.
“Hey, you okay?” she asked, and I looked at her. She was propped up on an arm, lying sideways as she viewed me. She had the covers up to her waist but was naked up top. It was hard to think with her sexy rosebud nipples winking at me. And maybe that was the problem—too much sex and too little everything else.
“Why’d you ask?” I responded.
“I don’t know. You look lost in thought.”
“It’s nothing,” I replied and got out of bed. “I’ve to shower for work.”
She frowned at me but didn’t press. For once, I wished she would press, but her naked legs flashed as she got out of bed too from her own side. “Okay, I’ll make breakfast.”
I nodded and walked away before I was tempted by her naked, stretching body. Damn, she was beautiful and looked even softer since we’d been in a relationship. It is a relationship, I told myself stubbornly as I headed towards the bathroom.
By the time I was dressed, the smell of bacon and eggs filled the apartment, making my mouth water. A cup of coffee was placed before me as soon as I sat, followed by buttered toast with a heaping of scrambled eggs and bacon strips. As I watched her bustling around the kitchen, I thought of how much I wouldn’t mind having this in my life every day. It was a powerful thought, but not one I was averse to. In truth, it didn’t bother me any at all.
She sat at the table with me but wasn’t eating. She was drinking orange juice.
“You’re not eating?” I asked.
She made a face. “I barely succeeded in finishing breakfast. I’m feeling a bit queasy.”
“You’re sick?”
“I don’t think so,” Emily responded. “There’s something I want to talk to you about. Or an idea I want to pitch to you.” She sounded so nervous as she spoke.
“I’m listening.”
“Have you ever…you know, thought of-of singing professionally?”
“What? Of course not.”
“Why not?”
“Because I haven’t,” I answered stubbornly, though I hadn’t given her much of an answer. How was I supposed to tell her I feared success, of trying and failing? It was better to do what I loved simply because I enjoyed it and not have people raising their expectations of me.
“That’s not a reason,” she pressed. “I’m sorry I’m bringing this up now when you’ve got to go to work, but every time I try to talk to you about it, I chicken out. I think you could do this— take your music professionally.”
“Except I don’t want to, Emily. Now drop it.”
Anger suffused her cheeks at my tone, and I wished I hadn’t spoken to her so harshly. She had pushed, though. As I got up from the table with my half-eaten breakfast to scrape it in the bin, I stopped beside her.
“I’m not at a place in my life to talk about this with you, Em,” I told her.
“You never want to talk about anything!” she exclaimed. “You hide everything from me. You won’t talk about your brother, although I can see it still bothers you, and you won’t entertain the possibility of doing something better than working in a department store for the rest of your life!”
Her words stung deeply. So, this was it. This was the reason she didn’t want to define what we had. Because she had a problem with me not doing anything but work at the store.
“What a way to be discriminatory since you’re working at one yourself,” I responded stiffly.
“But I’m doing something about it!” she cried. “That’s the difference. You think I want to be stuck working at Hollister forever or that I want to live in an apartment all the days of my life? I want a—” She trailed off as her stomach heaved. She pushed the plate so hard out of my hand that it crashed to the floor and shattered. “Get that thing away from me,” she growled and dashed off. I heard the slamming of the bathroom door.
Taken aback, I picked up the pieces of broken plate and swept up the food off the floor. After I was done, I headed to the bathroom and knocked on the door.
“Emily, are you okay?”
“Go away,” answered her muffled voice.
I pushed the door open and found her sitting on the floor beside the toilet. As I walked in, she flushed the toilet, but from the smell of the room, I could tell she had been throwing up.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked her. “Why are you throwing up?”
“Just go,” she insisted, refusing to look at me.
“So, you’re mad at me because I don’t want to be a professional singer?”
“I’m mad at you for being too scared to man up and do something with your life!”
For a minute, as I stared at her, she became my mother, my mother’s voice saying the words, even though Emily’s lips moved. And it gutted me.
Why can’t you get your life together? Stop drinking, stop cavorting with all these women and settle down with one woman, for God’s sake. You’re twenty-five, not eighteen. You dropped out of college—that we were paying for. All our money and everything down the drain, wasted on you. Why can’t you be more like Kyle?”
My mother’s words came back to me, and Emily had reminded me. She didn’t want me for who I was. She was just another person who wanted me to be more like Kyle.
“I guess there’s no more point to this then,” I stated stiffly and walked out of the bathroom, shutting it firmly behind me. I heard a sob but kept walking. I grabbed my car keys and headed to work, feeling hollower than I ever had in that moment.
I had heard the words from so many different people, but coming from her, it was even worse. I was just at the brink of admitting my feelings for her, but I couldn’t do that now. No way would I tell her I loved her when I wasn’t up to her standards.
Somewhere at the back of my mind, I realized she spoke the truth. Did I want to hit thirty and still be working at the mall? The department stores were overrun with teenagers—high school dropouts and people fresh out of high school.
I was in a horrible mood all day, and when Shawn called me and asked me if I wanted to hang out after work, I barely hesitated or thought about Emily before I said yes. I debated calling her when I got off work, but she would be in class so I didn’t bother to. I ignored everything beautiful about the setting sun in the swatches of bronze and gold which streaked the sky.
I pulled up at Shawn’s house in Minor, which was an hour’s drive using I-65. By now, their house was like a second home, so I let myself in. He lived with his father, which was all good and well since they got along fine. Shawn’s mother had run off with some wealthy man to get married in Vegas and had never returned.
“Anyone home?” I called as I entered the hall and followed the sound of the TV blaring in the living room. I imagined if I’d had it so loud in the apartment, Emily would turn it down or even turn it off. I reached for my phone to call her but stopped myself again. She didn’t need to know where I was. If she couldn’t picture herself being with me, then why should she be concerned when I didn’t get home at my regular hour?
In the living room, which was a mess of sofas out of alignment, beer bottles on the center table, and shoes shucked everywhere, I found Shawn watching basketball.
“Hey, man, grab yourself a beer!”
I gave him a thumbs-up and went to the kitchen to get myself a beer. Given the bottles on the center table, I could tell Shawn wouldn’t be a designated driver tonight. Still, that didn’t prevent me from refusing the beer and choosing a can of Coke. I remembered how concerned Emily had been the night she found me at the bar.
