Burning Down the House

by Allie Gail

  18

  It was like putting on a production. Except instead of Romeo and Juliet, it was more along the lines of Nothing To See Here Folks, Move Along Please starring academy award winners Robert Kensington and Sara Marsh. Or at least, I felt we deserved an academy award for our performance.

  For half of each week we were casual acquaintances, barely tolerating one another while avoiding direct eye contact or the inadvertent touch, sleeping innocently in our own beds and trying to behave normally in front of my father. He didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. And we were determined to keep it that way. For as long as possible, anyway.

  For the other half, we were rarely apart unless in class or at one of our extracurricular activities. With Christmas looming just over the horizon, I was at the ballet studio twice a week instead of the usual once, perfecting my role as Snow Queen in preparation of our mid-December presentation. On top of that our drama class was now having play practice after school as well. So on Mondays and Wednesdays I danced; on Tuesdays and Thursdays I attended a Verona ball as Juliet Capulet.

  There were only two more football games before the season ended, and Rob started applying for part time work. He immediately found a temporary job at, of all places, a Christmas tree farm. The first day he came home covered in sticky sap and smelling pleasantly of pine. Thanksgiving was still a week away - I couldn’t believe people were already buying live trees.

  I met him at the front door, grabbing the front of his jacket and yanking him in for a kiss. His lips were cold from the thirty-degree weather. “You smell yummy,” I told him. “Like a -”

  “Lemme guess. A Christmas tree.” He teased me with an Eskimo kiss and asked, “Is my nose cold?”

  “Yes! It’s like ice. Poor baby…let’s get you warmed up.”

  “Good idea. I have an even better one. Why don’t you go run us a nice hot bath?” His mouth curved into a wickedly sensuous smile.

  I felt my insides quiver in response to his suggestion. So far we’d only had sex either in his bed or mine, and always under cover of darkness. However enthusiastic I might be, I was still new at this and the thought of him getting a clear view of every exposed inch of my body was…

  It was…

  Oh fuck, let’s get real - I loved the idea.

  “You dirty, dirty boy,” I flirted back at him. “I think you do need a bath. Your room or mine?”

  “Oh, I’m a dirty boy, am I?” He sloughed off his jacket and tossed it over the back of the recliner. “Either one, it doesn’t matter. Actually, how about yours. You go ahead and start the water and I’ll be there in a minute. Okay?”

  “All right.” Struck by sudden inspiration, I took a detour through the kitchen for a box of matches. A couple of candles would be romantic, and they’d provide enough illumination that we wouldn’t need the bright fluorescent lights.

  Covering the drain and turning on the hot water, I added some Winter Candy Apple bubble bath. And by some, I mean most of the bottle. The more bubbles, the better. Okay, so I’m not quite the exhibitionist that Staci Sheridan is.

  Hastily peeling off my clothes and clipping up my loose hair, I managed to slide into the tub a split second before he walked in. My heart nearly stopped in mid-beat when I saw him, already completely stripped down, naked as a Greek statue and not the least bit shy about it. I dropped my eyes as I felt my cheeks turn warm.

  “You are so funny,” he said, stepping into the tub and sliding down into the bubbles with his legs outstretched on either side of me. “You didn’t have any problem checking me out that night you were spying on me.”

  “I wasn’t spying on you! And you weren’t standing right smack in front of me then, either.”

  He laughed at that. “Technicalities. So voyeurism is acceptable from a ten yard radius? Turn around, I’ll wash your back for you.”

  Using only his hands and some liquid soap, he began by massaging my back and shoulders until I was fully relaxed. When he reached underneath my arms to knead my soapy front, I rested the back of my head against his shoulder, sighing in blissful contentment. Fully erect, his solid length was pressed against my lower back beneath the sudsy water. I loved knowing that beautiful hard-on was just for me.

  “You ready for me to do you?” I murmured.

  “Mm…now that’s a loaded question if I ever heard one.” Drawing up his legs, he dutifully faced the opposite direction and allowed me to reciprocate. It was an amazingly sensual act, the sensation of gliding my slippery hands all over his wet body. There was a hedonistic thrill in rubbing his upper arms and feeling the masculine curve of those hard muscles beneath my fingertips. I finally reached down to wrap both hands around his shaft, feeling it twitch against my palms.

  “Tell me something, babydoll…”

  “Yeah?” I asked while continuing to explore him.

  “How reliable is that contraceptive you’re taking?”

  “I was told it’s over ninety-nine percent effective.”

  “And you’ve been taking it religiously? You haven’t missed any days?”

  “No, I haven’t missed any,” I assured him. “Why?”

  He turned his head to assess my reaction. “How would you feel about skipping the rubber?”

  How would I feel? And he thought my question was loaded? “I don’t have a problem with that. I assume you would have already told me if there was a reason we needed them…?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m healthy. I’ve never barebacked before.”

  “Barebacked? Okay, I’m not sure what that means, but it better not have anything to do with horses. ’Cause I got news for you - you are not putting a bridle on me.”

  “No, doofwad. It means I’ve never had sex without using a condom.”

  “Ah…interesting.” My hands came up out of the water to massage his shoulders. “Well then, when you really think about it, technically that makes you a virgin. In a way.”

  “I like the way you think.” He reached behind his back to squeeze my thighs. “So you ready to take me to bed and make a man out of me?”

  “I don’t think you need me for that!”

  “Suit yourself. I’ll go start without you then.” Grinning, he straightened up and stepped out of the tub, dripping soapy water all over the floor. Without even bothering to dry off, he picked up the candles and disappeared into my bedroom, calling back in a singsong voice, “It won’t be nearly as much fu-uuunn…”

  Letting the water out of the tub, I hopped out and wrapped a towel around myself before following him. The candles had been placed on opposites sides of the bed and he was standing in front of my stereo connecting his iPhone to it, still dripping suds on the beige carpet. Hopefully he wouldn’t electrocute himself. Not that I’d notice. I was finding it nearly impossible to tear my eyes away from his cute bare ass.

  “I shared this playlist with you,” he commented as the music started. It was the same melancholy piano intro from our night at the overlook.

  “You did? Oh, I recognize that song. He has the most amazing voice.”

  “Adrian Hates.”

  Reluctantly pulling my gaze from his backside, I gave him a puzzled look at the seemingly incomplete sentence. “Adrian who hates what now?”

  Rob shook his head, trying not to laugh at my confusion. “That’s his name. Adrian Hates. It’s a German band, Diary of Dreams - the song is Tears of Laughter.”

  “Oh.” Unable to resist, I took a few steps closer so I could reach behind him and grab that adorable tight ass with both hands. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Are you referring to the song…?”

  “Okay, sure, we’ll go with that.”

  With a quick flick of the wrist, he untucked the corner of my towel so that it dropped silently to the carpet. “Now this is beautiful,” he professed, holding me at arm’s length while looking me up and down appreciatively.

  I felt the heat of desire spreading like a brush fire at his intimate appraisal of my body. I’d never thought o
f myself as beautiful before but when he looked at me with such lustful admiration, I had to believe that at least in his eyes, I was. Gently grabbing my head in his hands, he guided me to his mouth where our tongues began their familiar erotic dance. I could never get enough of the taste of him. He was like a gourmet chocolate addiction - possibly bad for you, but who the hell cares?

  Lifting me up so I could fold my legs around him, he carried me to the bed and dropped me gently on the down comforter before slowly stalking over me on all fours. Adrian’s soulful baritone mourned his inability to touch the stars, and I wanted to reach past the horizon for them myself. Surely they couldn’t be so elusive, so distant, not when some of them had lost their way only to find sanctuary in Rob’s celestial eyes.

  He hovered over me, whispering, “I want to feel every inch of you, with nothing at all between us…to come so deep inside you that you can taste it…every part of me belongs to you, do you know that? Every. Part.”

  My eyelids fluttered shut as he slid smoothly into me, and I moaned in sheer primal ecstasy, not just from the divine sensation but from his arousing words as well. His strokes were frustratingly slow, torturing me, bringing me almost to the brink while deliberately holding back, preventing me from going over.

  “No. Don’t close your eyes,” his soft voice commanded. “Look at me. I want you to watch me.”

  I opened them obediently to gaze up at him, and suddenly wondered how I could have ever believed that he was frozen inside. He was so far from it. The raw emotion in his eyes was transparent.

  Firmly gripping my wrists, he pushed both hands above my head and restrained them there, his eyes never leaving mine. “Do you like having me inside you?”

  “God, yes…” I breathed. “More than anything.”

  “Tell me you want me. Tell me you want only me.”

  “You’re all I want, Rob…only you...”

  “You have no idea how fucking good this feels to me.”

  “I have…I have some idea…” Teetering at the edge, I felt my legs quiver and my arms struggled to break free of his hold so I could pull him deeper inside me but he wouldn’t let go. My head thrashed to the side and I bit my lip to suppress a groan.

  “Eyes on me, baby girl.”

  I faced him once again and was immediately caught up in the intensity of his gaze. His thrusts gained momentum, driving into me more relentlessly, more desperately. “I want to feel you come. Are you ready to do that for me?”

  “Yes…” Fueled by his seductive words, my eyes dropped to the movement of his sexy lips as he spoke. I was almost there, my whole body shaking from the sweet anticipation.

  “Look at me, Sara,” he repeated.

  As I looked deep into those hazel eyes once more, they conveyed to me the very words he was now whispering.

  “I love you.”

  And I echoed those words as he buried himself deep within me, my legs clenched tightly around him as I felt his release and my body responded with its own.

  It was a long time before either of us spoke. Maybe neither of us knew what to say; maybe it was just that there was nothing else that needed saying. I rested in his arms with my head on his shoulder, wondering how it was conceivable to feel so strongly attuned to another human being. And what it could possibly be that he saw in me. He said he loved me. Not the beautiful red-haired homecoming queen, not the cougar from the library - he loved average, ordinary, unremarkable me. If I’d curled up and died right then and there, I would have shed this mortal coil as one perfectly fulfilled girl.

  The first words out of his mouth were, “Dear God, that was amazing.”

  “Yes. It. Was.”

  “I don’t just mean the sex. It’s so much more than that with you.”

  I sighed happily, snuggling into him. The arm that was wound protectively around me squeezed gently.

  “I was sorry when you moved away,” he confessed.

  “Liar,” I laughed. “You know you couldn’t stand me.”

  “I thought you were a spoiled little snot, true. But I missed seeing you around.”

  “Oh, come on…you’re just saying that.”

  “No, really. I used to watch you sometimes. Laughing and cutting up with your friends. You always seemed so happy. It bugged the crap out of me, but then you were gone and that bugged me even more. It was like the only window in my prison cell had been boarded up. I was still locked away, but I couldn’t even see the beauty outside anymore.”

  I traced his pecs with a fingertip. “I wish I’d known. You should have told someone, Rob. I mean, someone who didn’t have their head up their own ass like Mrs. Higgins obviously did.”

  “I guess. Hindsight’s 20/20. Little late for regrets now.” He brushed his lips against my forehead. “Would you like me to tell you a story, little girl?”

  “I’d love to hear a story. As long as you promise not to put Cookie Monster in it. I get enough of that at Peyton’s house.” You’d think her parents could lighten up enough to let her watch something besides educational programs once in a while. A few episodes of Adventure Time wasn’t going to warp the kid.

  “Well, there is a monster in it. It’s kind of a scary story. Are you sure you want to hear it?”

  “I like scary stories. Tell it to me…” I begged.

  “I don’t know. It might freak you out.”

  I lifted my chin to look up at him. “Please. Nothing freaks me out.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I forgot you were the one who called Jason Voorhees a pussy-whipped mama’s boy.”

  “Just sayin’…he’d probably get his ass handed to him if he didn’t have that machete. Anybody can be a badass if they’re carrying around a machete.”

  “Now that’s interesting.”

  “What is?”

  “I remember you laughing through the whole Evil Dead movie the other night.”

  “So?”

  “And yet you were sent fleeing from your room by a falling tree branch.”

  “Oh, shut up…” I poked him in the side with my index finger. He didn’t even flinch.

  “All right then. You ready?”

  “Ready.”

  “Okay. Once upon a time…there was a beautiful little princess. She lived in a great big castle with her parents, the king and queen. Life was good and they were all very happy until one day the king got run over by a stampeding herd of wild camels. The queen and the princess were both very sad but what can you do, shit happens. They continued to live together in the castle for a while and it wasn’t long before the queen became lonely. So she went online to a royal dating site where she met a handsome and charming baron and soon she remarried.”

  “What country did they live in?” I wanted to know.

  “Hell, I don’t know…Bulgaria?”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “There was just one problem with this arrangement. The queen’s new husband was actually an evil monster in disguise. And unfortunately, the only person who was able to see this was the young princess.”

  “How could she see it when no one else could?”

  “Because he revealed himself to her one day. When she was twelve years old, the monster came to her and showed her his true form. And he swore that if she ever told anyone he would hurt not only her, but her mother. He told her that nobody would ever believe her story anyway. So she kept his identity a secret. When they were alone together, he was the evil monster. In the presence of everyone else, he was the kind and loving husband and stepfather.”

  I didn’t think I liked where this story was going, but I said nothing and let him continue.

  “Over the years the princess blossomed into a fair young lady. And when she was seventeen, she fell in love. But the man she loved was older than her and the queen did not see him as a suitable match for her daughter. One day they had a terrible argument and the princess, in her anger, told the queen that she had no knowledge of such matters since she herself had been foolish enough to marry a monster.

 
; “The queen was outraged and she banished the princess from the castle never to return. You see, it was just as the monster had warned her - not even her own mother would believe such a tale. So she left with her lover and they were married right away. And eight months later she gave birth to a son.

  “The child’s father was overjoyed because a son was exactly what he’d been hoping for, and for a number of years they were all as happy as could be. And the story should have ended there. But it didn’t. Because something unforeseen was happening. The child was changing. His light hair grew darker and his dark eyes grew lighter and to the horror of his parents, his features slowly began to take on those of the monster.

  “They tried to deny it for as long as possible, but eventually it became clear to both of them that this was the offspring of something despicable. In public, of course, they pretended all was well. They were respected members of their community and wanted no one to ever discover the truth. The father grew to despise it. In the privacy of their home, he stopped calling the thing by its given name and instead referred to it as the filthy little bastard. He showed his hatred by constantly berating it and sometimes by physically hurting it.

  “The mother demonstrated her cruelty in a somewhat different way. Although she still fulfilled her duty by providing the creature with food and clothing and whatever necessities it required, she never again showed it love or even compassion. When her beloved husband no longer cared for the child, then she had no use for it either. And its face was a constant reminder of the monster who had spent years tormenting her.

  “The creature itself had no understanding of what was happening. It didn’t know why it had become unwanted. So it lived in desolation until one day the mother, in a rare show of sympathy, revealed to the child its sordid history. And so the story ends there. The father and mother were never able to conceive the child they really wanted, so the evil monster’s spawn was all they had and they were cursed with it until the day they died.”

  His voice grew quiet and for a time I could think of nothing to say, even if the tightness in my throat would have allowed it. He was right. It was the scariest story I’d ever heard, and what made it that way was the fact that it wasn’t fiction. This was no fairy tale. It was his own life. And it was truly heartbreaking. I blinked, and a tear trickled down to fall on his bare chest.