by Fields, MJ
I had to bite back the fact that I didn’t fly home because “we” were maxed out. I didn’t even have to look to see where the money went. I saw it tonight in Suzy’s dress and the expensive and exuberant catering meant to impress his fellow board members.
I ended up busting my ass all day doing lawn work to prepare for the fucking party, because he thought we could do it together, like men, then disappeared. I knew damn well it wasn’t for us to bond. It was obvious he didn’t have the money to pay the fucking landscapers.
His disappearance ended up working out just fine. It ended up being a much-needed outlet from the physical desire to throttle him. Something I couldn’t do in front of my siblings. Not for him or the fact I know Suzy would have called the cops, but for them.
As much as they all remind me where my fucking trust fund goes and the fact that my mother’s small fortune and the royalties still earned from her work wasn’t theirs, they had been raised to believe he held the golden purse strings. I was just recently made aware that I was the one who held them. That he had lied, manipulated, tricked me into signing legal documents, and has used my inheritance all my fucking life. I never want them to feel the way I do now.
“Everything okay out there?”
I look up at her smile. “All good. Just one more tire.”
“Need some help?”
“Not with this.” I wink and return her smile.
“Okay then,” she says then leans back in the vehicle.
I got through my day snapping with Autumn. She’s part of the damn reason that I didn’t light into him. I’m not sure I’d be able to stop, and I didn’t want to waste a moment of something good here on any more thoughts of him.
I open the back door and drop the tire gauge inside. Then I open my door and slide in. “You sure you don’t want to drive?”
“One hundred percent.” She holds her hand over her belly.
“Hungry?”
“It was silly not to eat today. I was a bit busy getting pampered.” She smirks. “Did I thank—”
“Autumn of Queens, you haven’t a clue how much I enjoy you. Your smile is thanks enough. Please, don’t mention it again.”
“Well, it was amazing. I’ve never gotten my—”
I place a finger over her mouth. “Don’t spoil it for me. I want to discover it for myself.”
“Well, it isn’t obvious or anything.”
“Your nails were French-tipped last night; they’re red today.”
She holds her hand out and wiggles them in my face. “Thank you for that.”
“Woman, you just don’t listen, do you?” I grab her hand and nip her fingers.
“It’s not in my nature to not say thank you. My parents would have my ass if they thought I wasn’t appreciative.”
I can’t help laughing. “Did they see—”
She laughs and covers her face. “I lied to my mom.”
“Sometimes we have to do that.” I pull her hands away from her face. “Any unwanted messages?”
“I did what you suggested—ignored the messages, phone calls, texts—”
“Your ex?” I know I sound pissed off, and I am. That was for me, not some piece of shit who didn’t deserve her, or she left, or whatever.
“Who else?” She laughs.
“Can I see them?”
“See my texts?” She looks at me oddly. Yeah, I overstepped.
Fuck.
“Yeah, sorry, knee-jerk reaction. I just don’t like that someone’s harassing you because I asked for a picture.”
“He’ll forget about it soon. No big deal.”
It is a big fucking deal, I think as I put the vehicle in drive.
“How long have you been divorced? Are you divorced?”
“Yep, one-year last month. But”—she reaches over and takes my hand—“I thought we were going with the virgin theme.”
“Right.” I nod.
“Hey.” She squeezes my hand. “It’s fine—”
“I put you in the damn position, Autumn; it’s not fine.”
“I’m a grown-ass woman, and I take very good care of myself.”
My heart beating like fucking elephant wings against my chest, I tell her the truth, “Well, I’d like to share in those duties.”
“Eric,” she whispers.
“When you’re with me, it is not just my duty, but my fucking pleasure.”
“All this talk about positions and pleasure should not be wasted on my stupid ex.”
I glance out of the corner of my eye, and she grins. I roll my eyes, and she laughs.
“In case you were wondering, you’re bigger and better.”
“I wasn’t wondering.” I swear to fuck I just pouted. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Well, it’s the truth, so …” She shrugs and looks out the window, and then she squeals. “Oh my God, we’re on the beach, driving!”
“That we are, gorgeous, that we are.”
She leans over and kisses my cheek. “Thank you.”
This time, I tell her, “You’re welcome.”
There aren’t many vehicles on the beach tonight. No big parties like normal. Most of my crew is back at school or at a bar.
Up ahead, I see a small, abandon campfire and think, perfect.
I pull to a stop beside a dune and put the vehicle in park. “Sit still and let me get things situated.”
“I’d love to help.”
“Tomorrow night can be all yours. Tonight’s my treat.” I get out before she can argue or realize I just basically scored another night with her.
I open up the back, grab the blanket, and hurry over near the fire to lay it out. Then I toss down the four stones I picked out of the yard today to weigh down the edges. Hurrying back to the vehicle, I see Autumn standing at the back of it.
“You were supposed to wait.”
She looks back over her shoulder. “Yeah, well, you know.”
“Rulebreaker.”
“All weekend long.” She smiles.
I grab the two outdoor pillows and shove them under my arm, and then I grab the backpack picnic basket and sling it over my shoulder before grabbing her hand. We walk toward the blanket, and I kiss her hand before dropping it, shrug off the backpack, and then set the two pillows down.
“Have a seat.” I motion to the blanket.
She toes off her sneakers, pulls the sock off, then sits with her foot in the sand.
“Matching pedicure.”
“Thank—”
“Don’t you dare.” I laugh.
She mouths “you” then bends over to roll up her pant cuffs.
“I thought you in a dress was going to be my second favorite look on you, but fuck, babe, the way those jeans hug your ass, it’s number three.”
She stands and looks over her shoulder at me.
“You aren’t going to ask what number one is?”
She shakes her head. “I’m going to assume naked.”
“You’d be partially correct. I toe off my sneakers and pull off my socks then walk over to join her. “Naked and wrapped around me like a baby Koala.”
“I happened to like that look on us, too.”
Us, I think as I grab the bag. I unzip it then pull out two champagne flutes and set them on my blanket. Then I reach in to grab the bottle of Cristal, which I prefer over Dom, and realize it’s gone.
Standing, I tell her, “Give me a second. I think I left the champagne.”
“I have a bottle of Dom in my bag.” She pulls it out. “Didn’t want to drink it alone.”
I kneel back down and take the bottle. “Perfect.”
I hold the bottle and slice my fingernail through to catch the wire screw.
“The foil,” she says.
“I learned the proper way to open a bottle of champagne is with the foil attached.”
“Is that so?” She leans in to watch.
“After you unscrew the tab on the wire cage, turn the bottle, and the cork comes out with a hiss, not a p
op.”
As the bottle hisses, I look at her.
“Just like that.” She smiles. “I’m impressed, Prince Eric.”
“Don’t be, Autumn of Queens. I learned that at fifteen … from a babysitter.”
She laughs. “You must have loved her.”
“After two bottles of champagne, I ‘loved’ her for all of three minutes … before I popped like a cork.”
“What!”
“I was a virgin. Shit happened fast. I’ve learned to control my cork.”
“How old was she?” she gasps.
“Old enough to drive, experienced enough to open a bottle of champagne, and smart enough not to tell my father.”
“But she was your babysitter.”
I like her cheeks getting red and the scowl. I like it a little too damn much.
“She was watching my siblings; I was just getting home from a party.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “How old was she?”
“Nineteen, maybe twenty—”
“Twenty! She should be arrested!”
“She should be applauded. I was a chubby kid who needed a release.”
“It’s not right.”
“Five years surely shouldn’t be grounds for jailtime,” I joke while pouring her a glass.
She takes it, reluctantly, and huffs, “An ass kicking and jailtime. You were fifteen, for God’s sake.”
Laughing, I pour myself a glass. “And how old were you when you lost your virginity?”
“Last night,” she deadpans before drinking the entire glass down and handing me the empty. “Another please.”
I laugh inwardly because she’s truly pissed off, and I don’t want her that way. “Let’s get you fed first. You’re kind of hangry.”
“I’m sad for fifteen-year-old Eric,” she corrects me.
“Fifteen-year-old Eric was a sad kid. Fucking and sports made him a man.”
“That’s—”
“It is what it is. Can’t change your past, just the future you.” I set down her the empty glass and pull out a bottle of water, crack it open, and hand it to her.
She holds it up. “Cheers to that.”
“Let’s go back to you being a virgin until last night, and me showing you tonight that those rules of yours are important … unless you’re with me.”
She looks up at me. “I’m okay with that.”
I lean forward, needing to kiss her immediately, and then I hear it. Her tummy growls.
“I guess that will have to wait.” I sit back and reach into the bag, pulling out a container of brie and another of sliced baguettes.
“Mmm …” she says as she digs her little toes into the blanket.
“You like brie?”
She laughs. “Not a huge fan, but that bread looks delicious.”
I pull out and open a container with skewers lined with fresh mozzarella balls, cherry tomato halves, olives, and prosciutto. “How about this?”
She sits forward. “Perfect.”
I pull one out and hold it out. When she reaches for it, I pull it back. “Let me feed you.”
She smirks. “You just want to stick something in my mouth.”
“Are you complaining?” I move closer to her.
“Not one bit.”
As she eats off my … stick, savoring every bite, I pull out my phone. “Siri, play our song.”
“We have a song?”
I nod and whisper, “Wait for it.”
She nearly chokes when another Taylor Swift song begins.
“Shit, are you okay?”
Covering her mouth, she laughs. “I hate that bitch.”
“Tay—”
“NO! I love her. I hate Siri.” She leans forward and grabs my phone. “Siri, you trifling bitch, play a different song.”
Siri replies, “I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“Oh my God, Siri, get a grip. Play a song!”
When a song with a chick having an orgasm begins, I grab my phone and look at the screen. “White Zombie’s ‘More Human Than Human’?”
“Perfect.” Autumn falls back on the pillow, laughing.
I eye her skeptically. “It’s dark, babe.”
“I’ll take it dark.” She sits up and reaches for another skewer. When I reach in front or her, she takes my hand. “My turn to feed you.”
Before taking a bite, I hold my phone up. “Siri, play a good first date song.”
“I Melt With You” by Modern English appears on the screen.
When it begins, Autumn leans forward and holds out the skewer. “I like it.”
“It’s not dark,” I say before taking a bite.
“It’s relaxed, no drama, fun, like this.” She motions between us.
I nod as I swallow. “Agreed.”
Nine
Autumn
I know I should have been listening to him tell me about the constellations—he’s very passionate about the stars—but when we make-out like teenagers between descriptions and explanations, I’m busy catching my breath and silently, desperately waiting for the next break. In all fairness, with his strained erection poking me in the back, it’s as distracting as hell.
“You’re not even looking at the stars, babe.”
“Am, too.”
He smiles as he pushes a strand of my hair from my lips that, yes, feel a little bruised. Then he shakes his head. “And you’re cold.”
“I’m good.”
“You’re better than good. So fucking good I’m pretty sure I bullshitted my way through that last part.”
“It’s okay.”
“Do you feel properly dated?”
“I do.”
“You ready to go back to my place so I can violate you?”
I try to play off cool but fail. “Why not right here?”
“I’m not gonna lie, that was the plan. But if I can make you look at me like that for another thirty minutes, you’re gonna be so hot that I’m going to get away with playing out every filthy fantasy I’ve had over the last hour and a half without any resistance.”
“In case you didn’t notice, I’m game. Do your worst, right here, right now.”
He slowly looks me up and down before his eyes meet mine. There is a different heat level in them. “You have an aversion to beds?”
“I have an aversion to waiting.”
He laughs.
I’m not joking … at all.
“My bed has four posts.” He bends down to kiss me then pulls back right before our lips smash. “You have an aversion to being restrained?”
“I have an aversion to the man who held nothing back last night holding back now.”
“I have an aversion to you taking a major mind-trip after getting properly fucked and taking off.” He pushes me forward to a seated position and stands. “So, no bed, no overnight, means no filthy fucking. And babe, last night, I was looking for a second go, so I held back.” He turns and starts to pick up the containers, tossing them into the coolest picnic basket I’ve ever seen.
“I wasn’t in the right head space last night.” I crawl toward him and reach up. “I’m in the proper head”—I pause and wink—“space right now.”
I make quick work of unbuttoning his pants and reaching inside to pull him out. Afraid he may stop me again, I don’t dick around this time.
Taking him in my hand, I stroke him, and when a groan escapes him, I fear he will pull back. I take him as far as I can into my mouth and hollow my cheeks as I suck his hard flesh wrapped in velvet. He grips my head and thrusts in farther than I can handle.
I gag as I look up at him, at his eyes filled with lust and need. I don’t pull back. I conform.
“Fuck, babe, just … fuck.” He releases his hold on me.
I stroke him as I pull back, sucking harder.
He moves his hand beneath my chin, stroking it, then holds his finger out, my saliva stringing from my chin to his finger. He rubs it up and down his exposed flesh. So fucking sexy.
When his grip tightens on my hair, holding my head still, I feel his cock twitch.
“You ready for dessert, gorgeous.”
I nod ferociously up and down as I continue sucking and stroking.
When he grips the back of my head and stills me again, I know he’s going to come, and I know I have never wanted to taste anyone’s cum more than I want to taste his.
“Fuuuuck,” he cries out into the dark, starlit night.
When I hear its echo return from the distance, I feel powerful in a position that has never made me feel anything other than used.
I swallow everything he gives me, and when he begins to pull back, I wrap my arms behind his legs and take him in farther.
“Autumn of Queens, you fucking wreck me.”
Several moments pass with my head now resting against his leg, his dick no longer in my mouth, as we both take in a moment that obviously was momentous for both of us. And, for once, I know that’s not an overthought realization.
I’m still holding him as he gently runs his fingertips over my scalp while we listen to each other’s breaths even out and the waves crashing just ten feet away.
When I begin to shake from the cold, he reaches down and lifts me up. “What would it take to get you to move south?”
I shake my head. “Don’t.”
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him. “Jesus, babe, that was amazing.”
“Now who’s on a head-trip?” I make light of what just transpired.
“Let’s get the hell out of here. You’re shivering.”
What he does next blows me away.
He lifts my chin up and kisses me so deeply, softly, reverently, licking inside my mouth then resting his forehead against mine.
“Fuck.”
I smile sadly and reply, “Fuck.”
* * *
We have a little spat in his vehicle as we head back. I told him I had no intention of meeting his family, and he asked what I was going to do about Angela.
When I pause, he pulls the vehicle over, puts it in park and looks at me.
I admit to him that I lied about Angela.
For a moment, I see hurt in his eyes before he looks away and pulls back onto the road. It can’t be more than three minutes of silence but, for some reason, it feels like an eternity.
