In Tandem

by Christina C Jones

  Maybe it was corny, maybe I was a sap, whatever.

  I loved this girl, and had for a long time.

  Now that we’d finally followed the natural cycle of our friendship to a place I couldn't help believing it was always supposed to be, nothing was going to fuck it up.

  Not even us.

  Not the uncertainties, the doubts, the fears of ruining our friendship.

  I had considered this possibility for too long, even as I respected her apparent desire for our friendship to remain just that - a friendship. But the thing was, I didn't see it as a requirement that we had to be either-or.

  One thing or the other.

  We were friends down to the core, and nothing was going to change that.

  But… she was nervous.

  That was why she hadn't said anything yet, was still pretending to be asleep as she laid in the curve of my arm. There was one thing I knew now that she was very, very comfortable with, so I decided to make the first move.

  I was nothing if not willing to touch her.

  I used the hand that wasn't anchored underneath her to reach for her bare breast, cupping and caressing, moving to pinch one solid black-cherry toned nipple between my fingers.

  That got her to stop faking.

  “Well, good morning to you too,” she grumbled, obviously awake but still groggy as she pressed herself against my hand - indicating that she welcomed the early morning attention.

  So I took it further.

  Moved my hand down, sliding it over her stomach, to push between her thighs. She parted her legs for me, just enough for my fingers to slip between her folds, already wet and ready for me to use as lubrication. I coated my forefinger and thumb in her juices, then moved back to pull her clit between my fingers.

  She immediately gasped, her body launching away from the bed as I pinched her there. Not too hard, but just enough for the pressure and pleasure to be unrelenting.

  The arm that had been trapped underneath her, I used now to hook around her waist, pulling her back down to the bed as my thumb and forefinger started a steady back and forth pattern with her clit in between.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered, panting as my kneading between her legs rocketed her into a state of squirming and moaning and begging.

  That was a little thing I discovered last night - how ultra-sensitive she was. I ignored her pleas for relief of the pressure – the pleasure - choosing instead to take her in a different direction.

  Release.

  It didn't take very long.

  This was another newly discovered thing for me, just how much I enjoy watching her cum. The sounds she made, the look on her face, the way her body spasmed and twisted in response to what she was feeling.

  That shit was a masterpiece.

  Sights and sounds I could very easily get addicted to, or maybe already was. I maneuvered myself on top of her, spreading her legs I took a position between them to kiss my way down her naked body to my ultimate destination.

  Yes.

  It was definitely an impending addiction.

  I lost myself in the taste and aroma of Britt’s pussy, teasing and licking and kissing and lapping her with my tongue until she was putting on that stellar orgasm performance all over again. This time, with the added bonus of me having a front-row seat.

  I relished the privilege of it, licking her clean until I had to tell myself to stop - I didn't want to risk leaving her too sensitive down there for us to make the ride back home in a few short hours.

  Very quickly, I discovered that I was the only one concerned about that.

  As soon as I came up for the bothersome necessity of air, Britt was urging me upward, insisting she needed me inside her.

  That was a weakness of mine – one of many.

  I'd never been able to deny B something she claimed to need.

  Not that this particular thing was a burden.

  Burying myself as deep in her pussy as anatomy would allow was far from a burden.

  We both let out these incredibly pleased sighs, as if this was our first time all over again. But it had nothing to do with being first, and everything to do with how perfectly we meshed together, how impossibly neatly we fit.

  I brought my face to hers, ready to take this whole thing to a more intimate level with the taste of her tongue, but she turned away.

  “Raf, I haven't brushed my teeth yet!”

  I grabbed her under the chin, turning her face back to mine. “I really don't give a shit about that.”

  And that was all it took.

  We were right back to the moment, with my tongue in her mouth letting her see just how sweet she tasted - hopefully offering a preliminary explanation for why I planned to have my head between her legs as much as humanly possible.

  This wasn't exactly what I’d come back for, and of course I understood that we still had plenty to discuss. Not just about us, but about what I'd very suddenly revealed to her.

  It wasn't neat.

  It was messy as hell.

  But I'd be damned if I was going to let that stop me.

  I'd already given up enough.

  So for now, I cleared all that from my head, focusing on the moment. The softness of Britt’s lips against mine, the rake of her fingers along my scalp, her nails digging into my shoulders. The pure bliss of being buried inside her, surrounded by her.

  Only the positives.

  None of the negatives.

  Making her feel as good as she made me feel.

  Nothing that could lessen the moment.

  Hours later we found ourselves back on the road, heading back to the Heights.

  All morning, I’d kept catching B staring at me with this soft ass look on her face as we packed and prepared, and she turned away like an embarrassed teenager every time I shot her a smile back.

  That quashed any concerns I had about my feelings for her not being mutual.

  Sure, maybe we weren’t on the exact same page, but at least now we were in the same book – one I could only hope was going to lead to a happy ending between us.

  The ride back was uneventful, thankfully. No crazy pickup trucks, no bad weather, no errant flats. Once again, Britt let me set the pace. While I'd been anxious and excited to get to Sugar Valley, I wasn't nearly as ready to leave it now, not with all the good things that had happened there. It was only because B needed to get back to her shop that we were returning at all, as far as I was concerned.

  She had something good, something important waiting for her back in the Heights.

  I… had something waiting for me, all right.

  I just had zero expectations it was going to be pleasant.

  I hadn't said anything to B about it, but my parents were damn near counting down the moments until we arrived. I’d talked them out of hanging around her building to spring on us as soon as we got back, but they were there in the Heights, and not pleased with my repeated insistence on dodging them.

  I knew I couldn't keep it up.

  I knew that at some point, I was going to have to reveal to them the same truth I offered B. The thing was though, I knew that even if Britt was angry at me about it - rightfully so - I could count on her to still be empathetic.

  To still treat me like a friend.

  My parents on the other hand… there would be some real anger there.

  The I can’t look at you right now type of anger, the I might not speak to you for a while type of anger. And though I'd been dodging their presence, ducking their phone calls, dodging any and all forms of communication… I was somehow able to justify in my mind that it made sense for me to do it.

  I understood how hypocritical that was.

  “Hey,” Britt said, catching my attention just before we got back on our bikes after a break at the halfway point. “Um…Whatever this is we're doing… do you think we could keep it just between us for a little while?”

  My chest got a little tight over that request and I frowned. “Can I ask why?”

  She smi
led, and let out a little sigh. “I just… I want us to have time to figure this out and be kind of solid before I have to hear, I told you so. I knew this was going to happen. It’s about time you stopped lying to yourselves. I know it’s coming, and it’s always so irritating when I see people do it to others. Like… it was none of your business anyway, damn, can we breathe?”

  Hearing her reasoning made me chuckle, and I immediately nodded. “Yeah… that's actually pretty genius,” I agreed with her. I didn't need anybody any further into my business, dissecting shit I hadn’t examined myself yet, claiming they “knew” something she and I had barely figured out. So… “Yeah,” I answered. “Let’s do that.”

  I would have enough things to answer for later anyway.

  But… I was focusing on the positive, and still feeling good by the time we rode back up to the bike shop and headed inside.

  Britt took her shower first, while I got in touch with my parents to let them know I was back in town, instead of putting off the inevitable too much longer.

  I thought I would see them tomorrow.

  Maybe for breakfast.

  They… had a different idea.

  When I got out of the shower, Brittany was hovering real close to the bathroom, like she was anxious about when I was coming out.

  I hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her against my still- damp body. “You know you could have just come in, if you needed to?” I asked, bringing an instant blush to her face.

  “I assumed as such,” she said. “But that's not why I'm here. Um…Your parents are here.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, they flew in a few days ago.”

  “Right. They’re here in town. But what I’m saying is that they are here,” she said, motioning toward the open area of the apartment on the other side of her divider.

  My eyebrows went up. “Like… in the building?”

  “Like… in my living room.”

  Why the fuck didn't I expect that?

  After dodging them for so long, it should have been my first thought that they wouldn't waste any time getting to where I was. This was my own fault for giving that final detail, that I was staying with Britt instead of a hotel.

  Of course they figured out exactly where that meant.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes full of concern as I stepped back into the bathroom with my bag to get dressed, now that my plan to go yet another round with her had been thwarted.

  She watched me as I pulled my clothes on, not interested in whatever lecture coming out to greet my parents half-naked might spark.

  “Yeah,” I told her, though I wasn't quite sure how true that was. I wasn't looking forward to any parts of this conversation, I just knew it had to happen.

  Once I was done getting dressed, I followed B out to her living room, where my parents were waiting. Their expressions were pleasant enough - which wasn't a surprise because they knew and liked B a lot. But I knew once I was alone with them, all those pleasantries would fly right out the window.

  “Ah, there he is!” my father bellowed, as my mother wrapped me in her arms for a tight hug. “You’ve had her worried about you,” he said. “You know I don't like her worrying.”

  Yes, of course I did.

  Gianni De Luca was intensely protective of my mother, something I greatly admired about him. His respect for my mother gave me more respect for him. Unfortunately, I wasn't exempt from whatever he might deem protective actions on her behalf. His words, while simple enough, meant he had some shit to say to me.

  But that was my own fault, resulting from my own actions.

  I was just going to have to take it whatever it was.

  “Are you okay, polpetto?” my mother asked, kissing both cheeks with zero regard for the pink lipstick stains she would leave on my skin. Or for the fact that I was way too old for her to still be calling me “meatball”.

  “Yes, mamma, I'm fine. Just stressed, and tired.”

  “And probably hungry, after a ride like that. Brittany was telling us about your trip, how long it was.” Mamma narrowed her eyes at me, my face still caught between her hands. “You went quite a way just to not have to talk to your parents.”

  “It wasn't about not talking to you guys,” I defended, earning a side-eye.

  “Whatever you say. Come on, we're taking you to dinner. And then you’ll come and stay at the suite in Blackwood with us.”

  There it was, already.

  Making decisions for me like I wasn't a grown-ass man.

  Truthfully though… I'd been thinking about it on the way back, how not good of an idea it was for me to continue crash with Britt. Especially now that we’d made this relational shift. Being together all the time was cute in theory, and we’d made it work for the last week. But sooner or later, we were going to need a break from each other. I hadn't known how to express that in a way that wouldn't make B feel like I was trying to get away from her.

  I just didn’t want us to get tired of each other in the beginning and end up burnt out before we started.

  So maybe with this particular thing… I wouldn't fight it.

  “Are you coming to dinner with us?” I turned to ask B, who had been hanging back to give us some space. It hadn’t occurred to me that she wouldn’t be automatically included in the plans for dinner, because why the hell wouldn't she be?

  But my mother stepped forward before Britt could let out an answer, shaking her head.

  “This needs to be just family,” she said, giving B a genuinely sweet smile. “You understand, right?”

  B nodded. “Yes, of course,” she agreed. “I'm sure you guys have a lot to talk about.” She looked at me. “You’ll be okay, right?”

  Did I really have a choice?

  “Yeah,” was what I said out loud, though I wasn't that sure. “I can come back for my bag afterward,” I said, creating the perfect scenario to break up this encounter with my parents, and see her again before the night was over.

  “Cool,” B agreed. “I'll see you then. Just shoot me a text or something to make sure I'm up.”

  I didn’t know what to expect from dinner with my parents.

  I knew they were pissed at me, which they wouldn't have expressed in front of B.

  They would wait until we were alone.

  However… they didn't do that.

  They kept things pleasant.

  Asking about my current time in the Heights, asking about my Sugar Valley trip with B, catching me up on people we knew back in Italy.

  It was kind of bizarre.

  So bizarre that I decided I was going to just say fuck it and throw an atom bomb into this little fake ass pleasantness.

  I was going to tell them I was retiring.

  And I was going to tell them why too.

  All of it, down to the last detail, even the parts I hadn't yet revealed to Brit.

  But then my mother's face lit up with a smile in my direction. Not at me, just in my direction. At something or someone just over my shoulder.

  “Look at this – all my favorite De Lucas all together, with an empty chair just for me,” I heard, in familiar Italian.

  Okay.

  Now I see what this really is.

  I turned as my trainer’s daughter, Lucia Fortini, walked up to our table at HoneyBee, wearing a blindingly bright smile.

  Hers was pointed at me.

  Lucia had been weaponized against me more than once before, so I knew what was happening as soon as I saw her. They’d brought her all the way from Italy, to use as a trump card with the intention of forcing me to come home.

  In the past, it worked.

  Lucia was gorgeous - a cyclist herself with the toned body to match, covered in glowing golden-brown skin. She had recently chopped all her hair off, into a short faded fro that accentuated every one of her striking features. Big brown eyes, cheekbones, sensual lips.

  Fine as hell.

  Before my accident, and for a while after, she had my nose wide the hell open. A perfect distract
ion from the pressures of my sport, a necessary consolation prize for the races and such that I hadn't been able to do.

  Now though… I was off that.

  Off her.

  Way, way off, before I left to come back to the Heights.

  I wanted nothing to do with her.

  And I wanted nothing to do with her father.

  But of course, my parents didn't know that.

  What they knew was, “Rafael has a weakness for Lucia, and if we want him back in line, all we have to do is whip her out.”

  It was disheartening as hell that they were willing to manipulate me like this, and with probably very little remorse about it.

  To them… everything was about training.

  Everything was about moving forward, everything was in service to the sport.

  There were no feelings, no emotion - there was just training and winning.

  There was success, and building the legacy.

  Often, I found myself missing the times back before I started with this, back when they looked at me less as their protege and more as simply… their son. I didn’t feel nearly as guilty about dodging them now, when this was what I faced when I finally stopped.

  I’d take whatever scolding and infantilizing they wanted to throw my way, because those things were easy to interpret as coming from a place of love.

  This, though?

  There was no good way to look at this. No way to make this feel like anything except protecting an investment.

  Like I was nothing but a fucking product.

  “Lucia,” I greeted her as I stood, returning her enthusiastic hug with a lackluster one of my own.

  I wasn't about to give her – or my parents - any room for any type of misinterpretation. Wasn't giving them any indication that this shit was going to work this time.

  Part of me died in that ravine.

  The immature ass Rafael De Luca that could be ruled by pussy, caring about nothing in the immediate except the next race was… he was gone.

  My intentions of coming clean with my parents dissipated with Lucia’s arrival.

  It wasn’t just because of her presence, it was the fact that they’d brought her along in the first place.