Knocking Boots

by Willow Winters

  “So beautiful,” he marvels. He bends down and takes one nipple in his mouth. He sucks on it, making my back arch. When he releases it in favor of the other, I call out his name.

  “Please, Charlie,” I moan.

  “Please what?” he asks in a low voice with a hint of desperation. Like he needs me to tell him. Like his world depends on it.

  “Please…” Be with me. Be with me for more than just this. My heart is desperate for me to say the words, but nothing comes out.

  The brush of his fingers against my core is like a live wire. He bends to kiss my breast again, his fingers coaxing, opening me to his view.

  I moan as he kisses his way down to my pussy. He kneels, discovering me with a series of slow licks that send me sky high. He shifts himself, pressing one hand on the top of my sex, while the other explores.

  Charlie finds my clit with his tongue, running lazy circles around it, driving me wild. One finger dips inside my core.

  “Yes,” I whisper, urging him on.

  That same finger that dipped into my center withdraws, then brushes backward.

  Is he—?

  He chooses that moment to focus on my clit, while sliding his finger around and around the tight hole. I am crazed with the need to get off, and when he focuses in on my clit again, and presses his finger against my rear entrance…

  His finger slips in with little resistance. I feel my face heat as I realize that I don’t hate it… in fact, it feels… good. Hot and full, but it feels so good. Oh my God. It takes everything not to move against his motions.

  He slows his pace, giving me a second to get used to the feeling of his finger in my ass, grinding in rhythm. I'm ashamed to find how much I like it. I moan every time he moves his finger.

  It’s so taboo, so wrong…

  He sucks on my clit, although I can’t forget about where his finger is. He picks up the pace, his tongue moves faster, massaging and taking me higher. He slowly brings a second finger to join the first.

  I explode, riding high on a wave of sensation that won’t stop. I call his name as I find a sudden release, a blessing or a curse, I don’t know.

  Before I even finish, Charlie stands up and turns me around. My naked breasts touch the bar and I spread my legs for him. He runs his hand down my bare back, and squeezes one of my ass cheeks.

  “You really want me?” he asks me.

  “Yes,” I groan. “Are you going to…” I want to ask him if he’s going to try to put himself…

  “Not tonight, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.” Before I can answer, the words are knocked out of me.

  He enters me in one brutal stroke, making us both cry out. He fills me completely, possesses me utterly, steals my very breath.

  He does it again, and again. Over and over, he strokes into me with every bit of his strength. My body knows what's coming. I’m shaking like a leaf.

  Every nerve ending cries out for fulfillment. I move with him, thrust with him until I can’t anymore. Until I see the edge of the precipice, looking up from down below.

  He doesn’t stop fucking me, taking me even higher. Prolonging the pleasure.

  He stiffens and grabs my hips hard, bruising my flesh as he finds his own release.

  When he’s finished, we stand, both catching our breath and coming back down to earth for a long moment, struggling to breathe. I turn my head back, and he nuzzles my neck, but he won’t look me in the eyes. He finally withdraws from my body and I wince, already aching between my legs.

  “Wait here,” he says, pulling up his pants.

  I turn around, picking my dress up from the floor. He returns as I'm putting the dress on. He has a clean, wet rag.

  “Here,” he says, reaching low to wipe the stickiness from between my legs. I balance myself by gripping onto his shoulder as I feel the warm rag wipe me clean.

  “Thanks,” I say awkwardly. The tension is still there. It’s suffocating. As soon as he's done, I finish getting dressed, pulling my panties on and watching Charlie. But he never looks at me the whole time.

  I’m trying to be what he wants but I can feel him already slipping away.

  He tosses the rag aside and catches me by the waist. Finally, his green eyes stare back at me and my heart flips. His mouth kicks up, half a smile on his face. He kisses me, slow and tender.

  When I break away, his smile falters and he lets me go. “I still have to close. It’s going to be awhile. An hour, at least.” He scratches the back of his head, looking away.

  “Oh,” I respond but so many questions linger at the back of my throat. “I think I’ll go. I have to work in the morning.”

  “Right,” he says with a frown. “Right, of course. I’ll just walk you to the door then.”

  “No need,” I assure him. “I think I can make it a whole hundred feet alone.”

  He looks like he’s going to argue with me, but then he swallows it back. “Sure. I’ll see you later, then?” he asks.

  “Yeah. Sure,” I answer him as I slip on my heels, only then remembering I never told him anything I wanted to say. It hurts way too much to not be a breakup.

  “Okay. Text me when you get home, let me know you got there safe.”

  I give him a half smile that I don’t mean, feeling the split between us. What the hell is wrong with me?

  I open my mouth to tell him, but I can’t. He has to work, and I need to get home. If I say anything right now, I know I’m going to cry. I’m going to be that clingy girl he didn’t want. Instead, I let myself out and cry alone in the car on my way home alone.

  Charlie

  Little Evie is upright in Joseph’s lap, staring back at me with wide eyes as I shove peas into my mouth.

  I don’t taste a damn thing. It’s been five days. Five fucking days since that night at the bar.

  I should have ended it that night at the bar or at least told her I knew what she told Diane. I should have told her no, but I just wanted to feel her one last time. Five days and she hasn’t said a word to me. Hasn’t come by. She never wanted a relationship with me.

  I’m so fucking pathetic, wrapped up in a woman who doesn’t want me. Who never wanted me. I remember how she tried to get out of it. I should have let her.

  I’m so fucking stupid.

  My fork clinks on the ceramic plate as I lower my head, feeling like shit.

  “How long is their trip?” Cheryl asks Ma. It’s just Cheryl, Joseph, Ma and Pops while Ali and Michael are on their honeymoon. Without Ali here, it’s quieter than usual. Or maybe I just think it is.

  “A full week,” Ma answers, taking a sip of her Diet Pepsi and shifting in her seat.

  “Oh wow,” Cheryl says, absently kissing the top of Evie’s head, although the little girl still stares back at me. “That’s a long honeymoon.”

  “We can go on another,” Joseph pipes up then shovels another bite in his mouth.

  Cheryl scoffs, leaning back in her seat and yawning before she says, “Like when the kids are in college?”

  Joseph starts to answer, but Ma cuts in, “Kids?” Her eyes flicker to Cheryl’s stomach.

  “Oh don’t get ahead of yourself, Ma.” Cheryl stretches one arm over her head, another yawn taking over as she does.

  “Just checking,” Ma says with a smile. Pops chuckles at the end of the table. He’s been quiet all night but keeps looking at me. He thinks I don’t notice, but I do. They’re all looking at me, and I’m just waiting for the questions to start.

  As if reading my mind, Ma asks, “When are you going to bring Grace to dinner, Charlie?” She picks up a bun from the basket all the while looking at me, waiting on my answer.

  I lean back in my seat, taking in a heavy breath.

  If I call her, I think she’d answer. If I ask her to come by, I think she would.

  She’s busy with the promotion, and I’ve got work, too. I want to give in and just get lost in her touch, but it’s turning into something else for me. I never should’ve asked her to come around after the
wedding.

  I’m ashamed to say how much it hurts to end it with her. I don’t want to, but I can’t forget what Diane told me and it just makes sense. I’m not the man she wants her happily ever after with. We both knew that from the beginning.

  I don’t want to believe Diane, but she knew it was fake. She said that word, fake. That had to have come from Grace. There’s no other way Diane could have known it was some stupid, drunken deal and we were pretending.

  “She’s real busy,” I say before taking a drink of my water. “She got a promotion.”

  “Oh that’s wonderful,” Ma answers, but her tone is flat and I keep my head down to avoid looking at her.

  “Just where’d you two run off to during the reception?” Joseph asks me, and when I look up I see his cocky smile as he picks off a piece of his chicken and pops it into his mouth.

  “Nowhere,” I answer him as Cheryl shoves her elbows into his side. She gives him a look, and little Evie finally looks away from me and up to her mom. She’s only a few months old, but she’s holding her head up just fine and staring at the world around her with wonder.

  I’m not fucking settling. And not on a woman who doesn’t want me. For the first time since it happened, I regret thinking about knocking Grace up. My heart clenches in my chest, and I take another gulp of my water.

  I don’t know what got into me with her, but I know it needs to end.

  I made a mistake, and not for the first time. But I’m damn sure not going to let history repeat itself.

  “Son, help me with something.” Ma’s request is odd, especially coming in the middle of dinner. Just like her calling me ‘son’ is throwing me off.

  “Of course,” I answer her, setting my napkin to the side and following her to the kitchen. She keeps walking, out to the back door and to the patio.

  “What do you need help with out here?”

  My Ma’s a bit shorter than me and when she takes a seat on the floral tufted cushion, she’s even shorter. Taking my cue, I have a seat on the chair opposite her. “I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” I do my best to appease her and whatever hints she has that I’m off.

  “That’s not true. Mickey told me Grace hasn’t been in. Maggie said she thinks you two got in a fight.

  What in the ever loving hell. My eyes must speak my thought for me. “Don’t look at me like that,” my mother scolds me. “They’re worried for you,” she stresses and my mom’s voice shakes.

  “She doesn’t want to be with me,” I explain, getting right to the point and looking at my mother and saying those words makes the truth hurt even more.

  “Bull,” my mother bites out, her eyes getting glassy. “I saw the way she looks at you and the way you look at her,” my mom’s hands clasp in her lap, almost like she’s praying. “You tell me what happened and I’ll tell you how to fix it.”

  “I don’t need you getting us back together. I’ll settle down and find a nice girl one day.” My throat gets tight and I can’t finish my thoughts. Mostly about how my mother doesn’t have to worry like she is.

  “Didn’t I love you enough to know what it feels like?” she asks me, a tear escaping and I lean forward, reaching for my mother’s hand. She shakes it away from me and wipes her eyes. “You love her and she loves you and this isn’t okay. I know Suzanne hurt you but you deserve love and I don’t know why you don’t fight for it.”

  “She doesn’t want me,” I emphasize as kindly as I can to my emotional mother.

  “Son, if you think I didn’t pick up on the fact that you were only friends before, you must think I’m a fool. That first day I met her, I knew you two lied.”

  “Ma, I-”

  “Hush, boy,” she cuts me off. “I let it go because I could tell she wanted you. She had her eye set on you like I did your father. If you were blind to that, I can forgive it. But I can’t forgive you thinking she doesn’t love you. Not when everyone around you knows she does.”

  She doesn’t get it and it kills me. I hate feeling like this. I hate seeing my mother like this even more.

  “Do you love her?”

  I hesitate only a second before answering, “yes.”

  “Did you tell her?”

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I answer my mother. “No.”

  “Just promise me this. You’ll tell her how you feel. How you really feel.” She nods slowly as if agreeing to whatever she’s thinking.

  What it is, I don’t know.

  “Promise me, Charlie.”

  “I promise, I’ll tell her.” When I answer my mom, I don’t think much of it. But the more I think about it, the more I know I don’t have anything to lose. She’s already gone, it can only bring her back to me.

  Grace

  You’re pregnant, the doctor’s voice echoes in my head. Congratulations, Grace.

  I grip the steering wheel as I drive home, willing myself not to cry. It’s a mix of happiness, wonder and profound sadness. Charlie gave me a baby.

  Four days past the supposed day I was supposed to get my period, AKA yesterday, I peed on a stick and then cried. I told Ann, who’s immediate response was: you have to tell him. I almost told my mother, but it’s so soon. So to the doctor’s I went, who, surprisingly also only had me pee on a stick.

  Take it easy and be happy. Those were the good doctor’s only words of advice.

  I have to tell him. Ann’s right. But how? It’s been a week. He messaged yesterday that we had to talk. Everyone knows what those words mean and then… I took the test.

  How can I look a man in the eyes and tell him I’m pregnant when the words out of his mouth are that he doesn’t want to see me anymore?

  With a right turn onto my street, I come around the corner, and I’m surprised to find Charlie. Fate is cruel. I couldn’t have had one more day before I have to face this?

  Just one day of looking up cribs and searching for three-bedroom houses. Making plans and checklists and searching baby names and their meanings.

  Deep breath in. He’s sitting on the steps to my building. Deep breath out and he sees me as I pull into my designated parking spot.

  There isn’t a pep talk in the world that will prepare me so all I do is grab my purse and get the hell out to face him.

  I imagine what I’ll blurt out:

  I really liked you and even fell for you and you hurt me.

  I miss you and if I hurt you, I’m sorry.

  … also. I’m pregnant and I swear I wasn’t lying when I told you I didn’t think it was possible.

  Shit… shit, shit, shit. I can’t say that to him. What if he really does think I’m a liar? What if he thinks I used him? Oh my God, I just can’t take this.

  “You didn’t answer my calls or texts,” Charlie explains before I’m even six feet from him. He’s already standing, right in the center of the path.

  I stare at him for a long moment, at his downcast expression and his regretful posture. He usually takes up all the space around him, but now he’s meek.

  Sweeping my hand out, which causes my purse to fall off my shoulder, I gesture toward the doorway. “Do you want to come in?” My heart is frantic, although outwardly I’m trying not to show it. It feels like it’s all just too little too late. Too many days passed. Too many truths weren’t shared. This is where it all implodes.

  “I… I have something I wanted to tell you,” I admit to him and it takes all the air in my lungs to do it.

  Charlie ambles inside not taking his eyes off me, and I close the door behind us both. The click seems louder than usual. I put my keys down in the bowl and hang up my purse, then walk over to where Charlie has seated himself on the edge of the couch.

  I look at him for a second, then sit on the bed, my butt pushing back my pillows.

  “Talk to me,” he says.

  “About what?” Nervousness pricks at the back of my neck. Does he already know?

  “Just… tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. I w
ant to know.”

  Thump. “You sure?” I ask like a silly naïve girl.

  “Really. Even if it’s all bad stuff about me, I want to know. I want you to get it out.”

  His eyes plead with me, and I know I have to tell him. I can’t hide this from him, not with him here, asking what I’m thinking. I need to be strong and tell him what happened. I look down at the comforter, swallowing thickly and picking at the threads.

  “I feel like you broke up with me even though we weren’t together,” the words slip out before I can catch them.

  “We were together and I don’t want to break up.”

  “I thought… I meant-” I start to say, but he cuts me off.

  “You mean more to me than I told you. You do. You mean a lot to me.”

  “Why did you--” I can’t even place what he did or what happened that made me feel that way. “Maybe I just got in my head or--”

  “No. I’m sorry, Grace.” He holds my gaze, and I feel it. I feel his sincerity. “I pushed you away and I’m sorry. I meant something to you too, right? You did want me?” he questions like he doesn’t know the answer.

  “Of course I did. I still do. I don’t think I could ever not want you.” Surprise catches me in its grip, watching the relief roll through his shoulders.

  It’s quiet for a long time, the sound of my heart beating faster and faster filling my ears. Tell him. Tell him about the pregnancy.

  “You told Diane it was fake--”

  “Diane?” her name comes out like a curse from my mouth as my ass pops off the bed. “What the hell did she tell you?”

  “It doesn’t--”

  “The hell it doesn’t matter!” I could kill her right now. What right did she have to come between Charlie and me?

  Charlie doesn’t have patience for my reaction. “Listen to me Grace. Just listen to me.”

  With his pleading words, I carefully sit back down, the bed creaking in the silence and I make a mental note to never speak to Diane again unless it has to do with work. She’s not my friend. There needs to be a boundary between her and I and I’m the one who has to set it. Gesturing for Charlie to continue, I wait for what he has to say before I tell him the whole truth.