How Long Is Forever?

by Erin M. Leaf

  I’m not going to be able to cold shower this thing away, am I? he mused, then took himself in hand. He could jack off in ten seconds flat, especially in this shower, with Eva’s stuff all around him. He groaned quietly as he recalled the blush on her face. She was twenty-one, but he’d bet his left ball she’d never touched an aroused man. Somehow, that thought just made him harder. He hissed as his fist squeezed the tip of his erection, and then his hips pumped once, twice, and it was all over. Jizz coated the pretty white tile of Eva’s shower, and Charlie hung his head in the warm spray, panting and just a bit embarrassed. Had he ever come so fast in his life? He didn’t think so.

  “Fuck,” he said a long minute later. His cock was still half-hard and sensitive, but at least now he could stuff it into clothing without injuring himself. At least, he hoped he could. Eva had a way of inspiring his body to new heights of stupidity.

  “Hands off,” he muttered, thinking of Eva and her gorgeous body and her pretty blush. “Fuck it all to hell.”

  Chapter Two

  Eva stood by the dryer, clenching and unclenching her fingers. Charlie hadn’t handed her any underwear, so he was either planning on wearing wet boxers, or he went commando. And after the display of wet, muscled male stripping off his shirt right the hell in front of her, she could barely function, let along contemplate the idea of Charlie wearing jeans without underthings.

  “I mean, wouldn’t the seams chafe his junk?” she mumbled, staring at the dryer as if she could make it work faster through sheer strength of will. She glanced up at the stairs. Right now, Charlie was completely naked and in her shower. She couldn’t even imagine it. Since her parents had died, her shower had collected pink scrubbies and body lotions and hair products like a plague. And right now, Charlie, all six feet whatever of him, stood in the middle of all her girly stuff. Nude.

  The contrast between her feminine items and his muscled, scruffy masculinity stuttered her brain, and she bit her lip as she waited for the dryer to do its work. She didn’t even feel the cold cement under her bare feet. The basement was half-finished, and half-not. The clothes washer and dryer resided in the not finished part, so her bare toes curled under themselves on the cold cement slab where she waited. Heat sizzled in her core, and not for the first time she wished she wasn’t so inexperienced.

  “Eva?”

  She whirled around, heart pounding.

  “Do you have a pair of sweats I could borrow?” Charlie called down from the top of the steps.

  “Oh my God,” she breathed. Was he naked up there, at the top of her steps? God help her if he was. She hadn’t expected him to finish in the shower so quickly. She certainly hadn’t expected him to saunter out of the bathroom with nothing to wear. Eva swallowed, then shook herself.

  “Eva? You down there?”

  “Hang on,” Eva called back to him. The man was probably wearing a towel, right? Unsurprisingly, the image of Charlie with one of her pink towels slung low over his hips didn’t help her at all. Not one bit. She glanced over the shelf where she’d put the last of her dad’s clothes for donation, and grabbed the top bag. When she opened it, she nodded. His old sweats from college might fit Charlie. Her dad hadn’t been quite as large as his friend, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and Charlie wasn’t the kind of guy to complain about it. A pang of grief hit her, but she ruthlessly suppressed it. Her dad was gone. Charlie was here, alive and well and waiting for something to wear.

  Eva grabbed the sweats and headed for the stairs, not surprised to see Charlie was no longer at the top. “Charlie? I have a pair of Dad’s old sweats.” She turned to the hallway, but he wasn’t there, either.

  “Thanks, Eva.”

  Eva nearly jumped out of her skin when Charlie put a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around.

  “Hey. It’s just me.” Charlie smiled at her. “Relax.”

  Relax? Yeah, right, she thought, trying to get her voice to work. “Geez, you scared me,” she finally said. Charlie’s light brown eyes twinkled at her, and she dropped her gaze, then froze. Oh. My. God, she thought. Charlie really was wearing one of her towels around his waist. I am never going to be able to unsee this. A stray water droplet trickled down his ripped abdomen to the towel. A tattoo of a small bird in flight decorated his left pectoral. She stared at it fixedly. He looks good in pink, she thought inanely.

  “You only have pink towels in the bathroom,” he said, sounding amused.

  Eva’s skin caught fire. “Here.” She thrust the sweats at him blindly, and turned before she lost all self-respect and grabbed for him. She wanted to rub herself all over his glorious skin. She wanted to grab his biceps and wrap his arms around her. She wanted him to hold her forever. A weird combination of lust and grief hit her. Charlie had been her rock for the past few years, and now her damned libido had woken up after a long drought, and of course he was the guy she couldn’t shake from her head. Mouth dry, she tried to force herself to walk away, but she couldn’t do it. Instead, she stared at the shelving unit that held her microwave in the corner of the kitchen as if her life depended on it.

  “I’m decent now,” Charlie said, voice low. “You can turn around.”

  He changed into the sweats right here? she thought, mind boggled. She turned around to find him hanging the wet pink towel over one of the kitchen stools.

  “The lasagna will be ready in a sec,” she said, grasping for something, anything, useful to say. The image of Charlie wearing her towel flashed through her mind in a delicious overlay of the current reality of him wearing her dad’s too-small sweats. Neither vision was at all helpful to her peace of mind. Muscles flexed as he shifted his weight.

  Charlie nodded. “Thanks.” He leaned against the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Oh God, Eva thought, staring at the way his arm muscles bulged. How in the world am I going to ask him for help with my stupid little problem? I can barely speak to him without staring at his chest.

  “So, how’s your new job going? It’s been, what? Six months now?” Charlie asked her. “Is everyone treating you okay?”

  Eva swallowed and dragged her gaze up to his face. “Yeah.” She had to stop and clear her throat. “It’s been going okay.” She shrugged. “I mean, it’s not glamorous, but it’s fine. Doing marketing for a hospital isn’t my dream job, but whatever.”

  “Yeah, I hear you,” Charlie said amiably. “You’re doing okay for money?” He glanced around, as if checking for repairs to do.

  He sounds like a dad. This is terrible, Eva thought, wondering if she should just forget her plan. “It’s fine,” Eva said. “My parents had good life insurance, as you know.” She smiled weakly. “You’re the one who talked me through the whole thing after they died.” The oven timer binged, and Eva let out a breath. Saved by the bell. “There’s our dinner.” She bustled over to the stove and removed the lasagna. After slicing it and plating two servings, she steered Charlie into the dining room. “Beer?” she asked, heading to the fridge.

  “Please,” he said, already digging into the pasta. “Oh my God, Eva. Your lasagna just gets better and better.” He closed his eyes while he chewed.

  Eva looked at him and nearly dropped the drinks. Charlie had his head tipped back and he was half smiling as he chewed. He looked like a man relaxing after a bout of great sex. Not that I would know, Eva thought, thinking of her complete and total lack of a sex life, or a dating life, or any interaction with the opposite sex.

  “Here,” she said, surprised when her voice came out low and husky.

  He opened his eyes and grinned up at her. “Sit down. Eat.” He took the beer from her and kicked one of the other chairs out from the table. “You look tired. Or nervous. Or something.”

  Eva sighed. Of course she looked strange. She was nervous and tired and a whole lot of something because he was here, and he was gorgeous and perfect and she was a coward. She needed to follow through with her plan, but she had no idea how to bring it up.

  Instead of talking to h
im, she began eating her lasagna. Maybe the food would help give her courage. Charlie tucked into the rest of his dinner, and Eva concentrated on chewing. But every so often she’d glance up and find Charlie looking at her with a strange expression on his face. After she’d finally cleaned her plate, she pushed it away. “What? You’ve been staring at me for the past ten minutes, Charlie.”

  He smiled sheepishly. “I was just thinking about how grown up you look these days.”

  Eva sucked her top lip between her teeth and bit it. Talk about a perfect opening. She wasn’t going to get a better opportunity than this. She took a deep breath. “Actually, Charlie, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” she heard herself say. Her head buzzed, and she knew her hands had gone clammy. If only he wasn’t half-naked! she thought, desperately wishing she had somewhere safe to put her gaze. Charlie didn’t help matters when he leaned back in his chair, displaying his ripped chest perfectly.

  “Oh?” he asked.

  Eva’s heart began a slow, hard pound. “Yeah, um—” She coughed when her throat closed up. “I need some help with something, and I was hoping you could, well, help,” she said, smoothing her hands down her dress. She’d worn it because it was great at disguising her giant ass and highlighting her boobs, and she needed all the help she could get if she was going to convince Charlie to give her a hand.

  “Of course,” he said, leaning closer. “What is it? You know I promised your dad—”

  Oh God, no. Do not mention my parents, Eva thought, face going hot. The help she needed had nothing to do with her mom or dad. Eva lifted a hand, stopping him mid-sentence.

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with him or my mom. This is more of a personal issue I need help with,” she said nervously. She bit her lip again. Charlie’s gaze flicked down over her, then up again and stopped at her mouth. Eva blushed harder. Why was everything in her life so freaking difficult? Why couldn’t something, for once, be easy?

  “Okay,” Charlie said slowly, dragging his gaze up to meet hers. “What is it?”

  Just say it. Just spit it out. What’s the worst that can happen? He could say no, but disappointment never killed anyone, she told herself. He won’t laugh because he’s not that kind of guy. Isn’t that’s why you’re asking him in the first place? Charlie isn’t just gorgeous; he’s also nice. Eva swallowed against the lump lodged like a brick in her throat. Her skin prickled. She didn’t think she’d ever been so nervous in her entire life.

  “It’s okay, Eva,” Charlie said, frowning slightly. “Just ask.”

  She gathered her courage. “I want you to show me how to have sex.”

  ****

  Charlie nearly choked on his next breath. Show her how to— He stared at her, but the words still didn’t make sense. “Wait, what?” he asked, but Eva was still talking.

  “I mean, I know I’m not the prettiest girl, and I’m not skinny, and I’m definitely too tall…” she was saying, but Charlie could barely register the words.

  “Too tall?” he echoed as his heart banged on his ribcage. His gaze slipped from her face to her boobs, so beautifully packaged in her pretty purple dress. Almost unconsciously, he dropped his attention to where she twisted her hands together in her lap. Charlie knew exactly what she hid behind the soft fabric of her skirt: a full ass made for squeezing and perfectly curvy hips. “You’re not too tall,” he said, instead of what he was really thinking, which was: What the actual fuck? His lips felt numb. He wondered if the words he’d just spit out came out garbled.

  “Then you’ll do it?” she asked breathlessly. Her eyes stared into his, hopeful and innocent.

  Jesus, God, give me strength. He was already shaking his head even as his cock thickened, again, inside the too-small sweatpants he’d borrowed. “Eva, no, you have no idea—”

  She frowned at him. “I’m not a child. I know what I’m asking for. And I know it’s a lot to ask given how I, well…” Eva trailed off, then began again. “Given me,” she said, awkwardly waving a hand at herself.

  Charlie swallowed, forcing himself to look at her face and nowhere else. If he kept staring at her breasts, he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t just leap on her and start rutting like a wild animal. She thought she wasn’t pretty? What the hell? “Your first time should be with someone you love, Eva. Someone your own age. I’m way too old for you,” he said, proud that he sounded so reasonable. So adult. He watched her blush deepen, and then he felt like a total jerk for saying no, even though he knew he had to. He’d be even more of a jerk if he said yes. And seriously, how could he even contemplate this? He’d been her dad’s best friend! He remembered her in pigtails!

  “You don’t understand, Charlie. No one wants me. I’m too tall. I’m fat.” Eva shook her head, looking angry now. “And I’m tired of never being good enough. I just want to get it over with. I want to feel like a grown woman.”

  “You’re not too tall,” Charlie said, confused. Too tall? Where did she even get that idea?

  “Not for you,” she said scornfully. “You’re a freaking giant. But most guys don’t want to go on a date with a woman who towers over them like I do.”

  Charlie struggled to make sense of this. “That’s ridiculous. You barely come up to my chin. And you’re not fat. Jesus, Eva.” Charlie ran his hands through his hair. How did he get himself into these situations? This was a disaster. “You need to ask someone your own age out on a date. I know most of the time guys do the asking, but that’s stupid, and I know you know that. Guys love it when girls ask them out.” He nodded. If he were ten years younger, he’d jump on the chance to date her. Hell, even now his brain was supplying him with all the reasons why he could say yes, and he knew better. He was not going to screw around with Phil’s little girl.

  “I have asked, Charlie. I’ve asked more than one guy out, and every single one said no. Granted, that was before my parents died, but still. I did try.” She emphasized her words with jerky hand movements. “It’s hard to keep asking when you never get a yes.” She stared down at the floor. She looked sad as hell.

  Charlie’s gut clenched. This ask of hers made no sense. “All the guys you asked are idiots.” He ran a hand over his face. How the hell could he make this better? Without actually banging her hard and rough and all year long the way he wanted to? The idea of it had him grinding his teeth.

  Eva snorted. “Yeah. I already knew that. That’s why I’m asking you,” she said, looking up again. Anger sparked in her gaze.

  Anger is better than misery, Charlie thought, shifting uncomfortably on his chair. His cock pushed against the soft fabric of his borrowed sweats, reminding him that he was barely clothed. “I’m sorry. Maybe you just haven’t met the right one,” he offered, knowing that even as he said the words, she wouldn’t listen. Hell, he wouldn’t listen to those words if someone offered them. He sounded like an idiot.

  Eva shook her head. “I’m already twenty-one, Charlie, and I haven’t even been on a date. Not once.”

  Well, that just sucks. What the fuck is wrong with young people these days? Charlie sighed softly. “You realize that I’m an old man compared to you, Eva.”

  She looked him up and down. “You don’t look all that old to me.”

  Charlie flushed. Shit. She could totally tell he had an erection. He wished futilely for a pillow.

  “And I know I can trust you,” she added, more softly. Her eyes were luminous. Trusting. “That’s a lot more important than how much older than me you are.”

  Charlie felt like the biggest asshole on the planet. “I can’t, Eva.” He wanted to. God help him, he wanted to. But he could not take advantage of her, no matter that she was the one asking him. Phil would probably rise up out of his grave and punch him in the face if he touched her.

  Eva sighed, then stood up abruptly. “Fine.” She started clearing their plates. “I understand.”

  “Eva—” Upset, Charlie stood up, too, reaching out for her arm, but she avoided him. His erection deflated so
fast he felt like his junk had whiplash. He hated disappointing her.

  “No, it’s okay. I don’t want to talk about it.” Eva’s face was pink, and she wouldn’t look at him as she loaded her dishwasher.

  Shit. Charlie frowned, wishing there was something, anything, he could do to make her feel better. Anything except have sex with her. Just thinking those words sent a new frisson of heat sliding down his spine. He watched her bend over the dishwasher for a moment, gaze lingering on the curves of her hips, and then he glanced outside. The back gutters probably needed cleaning out. They weren’t clogged yet, but it was probably only a matter of time. “I’ll come back in a few days to clean out the other gutters, okay?”

  Eva nodded, putting soap into the dishwasher. She didn’t look up at him.

  “And I’ll come by to fix the drywall on the ceiling of your living room, too,” he said.

  Eva finally straightened up. She closed the dishwasher door with more force than was strictly needed. “You don’t have to.”

  Charlie noticed that she carefully avoided looking him in the eye. “I want to. I promised your dad.”

  She frowned then. “That’s nice of you.” The buzz from the clothes dryer echoed up the basement steps. “I’ll get your clothes.” She hurried across the kitchen to the basement door.

  Charlie watched her go, wishing he could go back in time and kick himself in the ass. If he’d simply come and cleaned out her gutters when he should’ve, none of this unpleasant conversation would’ve happened.

  Chapter Three

  Eva closed the front door behind Charlie and leaned back against it. She swallowed, and then banged her head on the hard wood. He’d dressed and headed out of the house in under five minutes after she’d handed him his dry clothes. She could tell he was embarrassed, but damn. There was no way he was as embarrassed as she was. “Well, you asked, at least. You go, girl,” she muttered to herself. She’d asked. The worst had happened. The end. Now it was time to get on with her life.