by Clare James
I have to hold in a gag.
“Come here, buddy,” I say, using the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe his nose, which I think is brilliant improvising on my part.
“Not supposed to use your shirt as a tissue.” Cade waves a finger at me. “Mom says.”
“You tell her that we didn’t have another option. Do you see tissues around here?”
Cade shakes his head.
“Let me see.” I wiggle his ears. “Are you sure you don’t have any hiding in your ears?”
Cade erupts in laughter.
“What about in your pits?” I lift his arm to the sound of more giggles.
Damn, I’m a real Chris Rock over here.
“Come on,” he says.
Okay, already bored with my stand-up routine, I see.
“Let’s slide.”
We head over and I chose the slide instead of the ladder to get up to the platform. Cade is beside himself.
“Can’t go up that way,” he scolds.
“You can when there’s nobody at the park to say no. It’s a special rule.”
“It is?” He’s shocked.
“Yep.”
Cade looks around to be sure the slide police aren’t watching. Then he follows me up.
The next day, Amelia and Cade are hanging out in the same spot. Interesting.
“S’up?” I ask.
“S’up,” Cade repeats. “You’re funny.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Want to go to the park again?” Cade asks his grandma.
“I’m not up for it today, sweet pea,” Amelia says. “Let’s just sit on the bench and read. Nana’s legs are tired.”
Cade doesn’t argue, but his body language is subdued, his eyes sad. They look just like his mother’s, gutting me the same way hers do when she’s unhappy.
“I could take him.” The words fall out of my mouth before I can consider them.
And this is how Cade and I begin our afternoon playdates. But in all truthfulness, I’m not sure who has the better time.
Aria
When Tuesday rolls around, I’m exhausted. Keeping up with school, the diner, and Cade. And then there’s Tris bothering me every darn chance he gets. I’m not used to being pursued in this way, and though it’s flattering on some level, I’m not sure what to do with it.
After anatomy, I’m preparing for another Tristan ambush when a guy from class catches up to me.
“Hey, Aria, is it?” the cute, blonde frat-boy type says, meeting my pace as I navigate through the crowded hallway.
“It is,” I say, blinded by his toothpaste-commercial-worthy smile. Seriously, I think it sparkled. “And you’re Brandon, right?”
“Yeah.” The smile brightens, if that’s even possible. “Are you ready for the test?”
“Getting there,” I say. “You?”
“Same,” he says as we walk outside. “What do you say we have a study session to bring us the rest of the way home? I really need an A in this course.”
“Sure,” I answer, thinking we could quiz each other in the commons.
“Great. Pizza, books, and beer tonight? I could swing by and pick you at up 7:00.”
Was he crazy? A study date? I ate dinner at 5:00 and had Cade in the bath and ready for bed by 7:00. Plus, if beer was involved I wouldn’t retain a damn thing.
“Sorry, I have plans this evening,” I say, not ready to tell him I live the life of a forty-year-old woman.
His smile immediately fades.
“But I have an hour now between classes.” I could use a little help, and maybe a new friend or two.
“Really?” he asks.
“Yeah, do you want to grab a spot outside?”
“Perfect.”
We settle in on the grass and start quizzing each other. And just as we’re getting comfortable, laughing and interspersing real conversation between questions about the key parts to the integumentary system, I can sense him.
Tristan stands over us, putting a shadow on the book we’re sharing. I scoot away from Brandon, realizing we’re sitting pretty close.
“Aria,” Tristan says, his faced strained.
“Hi Tristan.” I give him a cold greeting.
“Sorry to interrupt.” He glares at Brandon. “But I need a minute.”
“No problem, man,” Brandon says. “Catch you in class tomorrow, Aria.”
“Sure,” I say, trying to hold it together until he leaves.
Tris sits next to me, even closer than Brandon, and I feel the snap of energy between us.
“I thought you weren’t ready,” he says, working his jaw. “That’s why you’ve been putting me off. I’ve been trying to give you room and then I walk into this?”
“Maybe I’m just not ready for you,” I say, ready to pick a fight.
“That’s it, Ari.” He stills. “No more games. You’re either in or you’re out.”
“Jeez, what’s with you? You’re so bossy, so serious. What happened to the fun-loving guy who loved Star Wars and embraced his inner geek?”
“He’s still here, but he no longer puts up with shit. So tell me, what will it be?”
“You know, I really don’t like the new you.”
“Part of you does,” he says, leaning so close I can’t catch my breath. “That part you hide from everyone. Part of you loves the way I undress you with my eyes every time I see you. The way I have to restrain from taking you seven ways until Sunday whenever we share the same space. I think you love it.”
“Wow, you’re crude,” I say with disgust, even though his dirty mouth gets me flustered every time. “What happened to the gentleman? What happened to sweet?”
“Fuck sweet.” He strokes my arm and the back of my hand, in a movement that’s a complete contrast from his dirty words. “I’m not in this for sweet and neither are you. I’m not going to be a gentleman. I’m not going to take you all slow and soft. At least not the first time. It’s going to be hard. And rough. Don’t mistake what this is, Aria. We’re going to fuck the sense out of each other. And then we’re going to do it again.”
I don’t recognize it at first. Maybe because Alex never looked at me that way. Ever. Well, maybe once, when Cade was conceived.
No, I was Alex’s buddy, caretaker of his child, the person who made his meals and did his laundry. He was King Shit on campus, so no guys dared to look at me. I was just this sexless thing. But it could’ve been worse. That’s what I told myself.
And at least he didn’t leave me eighteen and pregnant like one of those MTV disasters.
So I let myself become weak – at his disposal to be used. Now when Tristan’s eyes are on me like this, I remember what it’s like to be seen.
Tristan’s eyes cloud over as he sizes me up… and down.
“Oh yes, the things I’m going to do to you,” he says in my ear. His breath hot and wet.
“I haven’t said yes yet,” I remind him.
Yet.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Aria. You just did. I’ll see you Wednesday.”
“Tristan, I really haven’t decided.”
“Well, I have. Tomorrow. Beach House. 7:00.”
Tristan
I light the candles, straighten the bed, and wait, praying she’ll see how perfect this is.
I’m so ready to show her what she missed when she left with him. Still, I won’t rush. I’ll take my time exploring her body, watching her responses, learning what she likes, and discovering how I can make her writhe under me and scream my name.
The minutes tick down and my confidence wavers. For a second, I hate myself for being in this position. Again.
But then, there’s a knock.
“You made it,” I say, holding the door open. Christ, she smells good – like cake batter – and looks even better. Her hair falls over her shoulders in dark waves and her skirt and silk blouse are the epitome of feminine, but there’s something not quite right.
“I did,” she says primly as
she walks inside. Fidgeting with the bracelet around her wrist, she’s pale and I know she’s second-guessing. I’ll have to work on that.
“I’m glad.” I warm up to her first.
“Well, don’t get the wrong idea,” she starts blathering, taking a seat in the kitchen at the center island. “I’m not your sex slave or anything. I’m just here for regular, normal sex to blow off some steam.”
“Why do you have to do that?” I ask, pulling up another stool, while I try to hide my grin after her little tirade.
I’m so ready for the games to begin.
“Do what?” she asks.
“Take away the fun and suck the life out of everything?”
And… we’re off.
“I’m sorry, Tristan,” she spits. “I have a son, and school, and I’m a fucking waitress living in her mother’s house. I have responsibilities and I have to get my shit together. I can’t just be all willy-nilly about everything.”
“Willy-nilly? What, are you eighty now?”
“You are such a colossal ass.”
There, that’s better. An angry Aria is better than a skittish one.
“And you’re an uptight bitch… at least you are to me.” I amend my answer because I could never really think of her that way. No matter what’s she’s done.
“I wonder why.” She pouts.
There is color in her face again. Her chest is flushed and frankly, I’m curious how far down it goes.
“This is just about sex,” Aria says and I swear, it’s the sweetest thing ever said to a man in all of history.
“That’s all I’m asking for, baby.”
“I’m not your baby.”
“In here, you are.”
I reach out to cover her mouth and though I can tell it scares her, at least a little bit, she doesn’t move away.
“Just shut up, Aria. Shut your mouth and enjoy this.”
I take her hand and pull her upright, intending to move into the living room. We don’t get that far. I can’t wait another second to touch her. To take control.
My hands stop her, latching onto an impossibly tiny waist. I drink in the sight – her impressive frame. Long, tanned legs covered in a skirt that shows just enough skin. Her perfectly curved hips. And full breasts that are being restrained by a long line of buttons. She’s dressed up more than usual today. For me? Or did she have an engagement on campus? I can’t be sure.
She backs up against the wall as if daring me to make my next move. So I do, but why the hell did she have to wear a blouse? The buttons are tiny and don’t maneuver through the minuscule holes fast enough. And I need to get to that skin.
“But if you really want to get things all neat and squared away,” I say, trying to continue our conversation and get onto a more pressing topic. One that will help make this night even better. “Let’s talk about the matter at hand.”
Aria lifts her brow and wrinkles her nose. Christ, she’s infuriating. And that’s what I have to remember.
Keep it physical, Green. Don’t be a pussy and get all wrapped up in her again.
“Stop talking in code, Tristan. What do you mean?”
“The sex, Ari.” I chuckle. “Tell me what you like.”
She takes a deep breath. “Maybe this was a mistake.”
“Oh no.” I release another button and her black bra peeks out. Then I run a finger from her neck, to her delicate clavicle, down inside the hollow between her breasts. “You’re not running out on me again. It’s not difficult. Just tell me what you like.”
She shakes her head and in the moment, she looks like she’s eighteen again. My goddamn heart squeezes, annoying the shit out of me.
“You can tell me.”
“I can’t.” She bites her lip now, making me lose my fucking mind.
“What about show me?” I try.
She shakes her head again.
“Okay,” I rub my chin. I’ve faced challenges before. I’m not willing to give up. “Then a hint,” I say. “A clue.”
“I’m really not sure.”
“Is it that you don’t know what you like, or you have a hard time communicating it?”
“Both, I guess.”
“What about with –” I break off, unable to say his name aloud.
“No,” she answers for me. “Plus, it’s been so long, I don’t even remember.”
“How long?” My curiosity gets the best of me.
“Nine months, give or take.”
“Shit, Ari,” I say. Poor girl. If I was left in that condition, I’d be jumping at this offer.
“Tell me about it,” she says.
“Okay, I’ve got it. Tell me about a sexy scene in a movie that turned you on. Or something hot in a book, or song? Anything that brings some inspiration. Let me in that way, so it’s safe for you.”
“That’d be good idea if I had time for books and movies, but it’s been years since I’ve watched anything without animation or read anything without colorful pictures.”
“Well, maybe we can discover what you like together,” I suggest. “Let me try some things?”
She nods and her breasts look like they’re ready to bounce right out of her shirt. It’s killing me.
“But right now, let’s just get this first fuck out of the way. Good, old fashioned, vanilla sex.”
Aria’s mouth drops open.
“You’re so romantic,” she says.
“This isn’t about romance, sweetheart.”
“You know, I really dislike you,” she says with a smile.
Yeah, this just might work.
“Likewise,” I say. “Now let me see those beautiful tits of yours.”
I rip her shirt open the rest of the way. I’ve been holding it together for too long, waiting for her decision. My desire has been pent up for weeks now and it can no longer be restrained.
Aria smacks my arm for the damage done to her shirt, but I latch my hand around her wrist before she connects. I slam it over her head against the wall. Her eyes grow wide, and so do mine as I take her in.
With traveling hands, I discover that the black bra I’ve grown so fond of has another spectacular feature. A front clasp. With a quick word of gratitude to the Gods, and a flick of my fingers, the bra opens and Aria’s breasts spill over my hand.
“Oh, God,” she whimpers and I store the new intel for our future endeavors. She likes to be restrained.
I grip her other wrist and bring it above her head as well. She’s so fined boned that it’s no trouble holding both in one hand, giving me the opportunity to explore with the other.
My palm brushes over her tight peaks and Aria’s eyelids flutter and her mouth opens – just a sliver. My mind goes crazy thinking of ways I want to invade those lips and consume her from the inside out. But tonight isn’t about that. We need wild, reckless, and fast. So fast that we don’t have time to think.
Still, I can’t resist. I take a quick bite of that ripe lip, before dropping to her chest to pull her nipple deep inside my mouth. Her breasts are so fucking incredible, I probably take a little longer feasting on them than I should.
My erection presses between us now, creating the most pleasurable friction. Christ, I’m hard and swollen and we’ve only just begun.
“Please,” Aria whines. “I need more.”
Her words shoot straight to my cock. And I push into her.
“Yes,” she says, grinding into me, and I know I won’t last much longer.
Aria
This is a hate fuck, and that’s all this is. Oh God, I hate that term. As old fashioned and pathetic as it sounds, when I think about sex, I think about love and making babies. Not surprising, I guess.
It’s been so long. Could I possibly do this? More importantly, should I?
We detest each other.
But, maybe, that’s why it’ll work. No emotion, just simple relief.
Tris suckles my nipple, one and then the other and I feel a pull deep in my core. Every lap of his tongue, the pressure and
suction, and the way it bites – a sensation that’s on the border between pleasure and pain.
It’s the same battle I face with him – getting too close, yet not close enough. I’m feeling the latter at the moment, so I tug off his shirt to even the score, and to feel him. Really feel him.
I’m rewarded with a spectacular treat. Half-naked with a body that would make a weaker woman crumble, Tris smiles and allows me a nice long look. I happily take it, trailing my eyes over him – inch by inch.
Without clothes, he looks much more muscular than I expected. A true badass, toned and cut to perfection. He hardly resembles the boy he once was. He’s broad-shouldered with hard planes and ripples that start at his abdomen and get lost in the waistband of his pants.
I explore the contrast of the peaks and valleys across his body – he’s nothing like Alex, who was more bulk and brawn than cut and toned.
“Hey now, I’m the person in charge here.” Tristan tries for stern, but it comes out amused. “Now back to my show.”
Taking hold of my arm again, his large hand tightens around my wrist.
“That’s right,” I say. “You want to get the fast fuck out of the way.”
“More like get us started with a bang,” he says. “And Ari, I want you to know that when you come through these doors, I’ll be in charge. You can let everything go. I will take care of you. Plus, I’d rather not hear anything from that smart mouth of yours while we’re in the throes. I have a feeling it could be a real mood killer.”
He tries to make light of it, but this is the real deal. He wants to dominate me and he secretly knows I want to let him.
Tris moves closer and I know what he’s going to find when he touches me. Damp panties and scalding skin. Oh God, I need to get it under control. Or give it up. I’m just not sure I can.
I can feel Tris’s confidence – his possessiveness as he pulls me close. It warms me and scares the shit out of me all at the same time.
“So what will it be?” he goads.
“Okay,” I say on an exhale. I can’t believe we’re going to do this. “Just get the protection.”
