Chapter 14
Max
“What are you doing?” Lacey hisses from a few feet ahead on the cereal aisle.
“Adjusting my nuts.”
There aren’t any other people on the aisle with us and I took this as a good opportunity to make some arrangements. They had been out of sorts since we walked into the busy grocery store twenty minutes ago and this was my first moment of privacy without anyone else on the aisle with us.
“Why are you doing it in the store?”
She sounds horrified and I can’t help but laugh at her expression.
“Well I didn’t think anyone would notice.”
I causally finish plucking at my basketball shorts, being more overt than necessary this time just to mess with her. She looks pointedly at the security camera in the corner, which I definitely hadn’t noticed until now, and grabs a box of Captain Crunch to toss into the cart.
“It’s pretty obvious.”
I shrug, not too worried about the grocery store security guard getting a glimpse of me adjusting my balls.
“All men do it.”
“All women adjust their tits too but not in public. Have some discretion.”
With that said she rounds the corner out of sight and I chase after her to the veggie section. The comment throws me.
“Wait. You adjust your tits?” I ask when I get close enough for other people to not hear.
Last thing I need is all the men in here staring at them. Or worse, hitting on her right in front of me after I dissected our relationship and explained why I couldn’t be with her just a few days ago. I may have given her to green light to date other guys but I still didn’t want to watch it happen right under my nose.
Hell, I didn’t much want to think about it. When I did I got the urge to kiss her right in the middle of the veggie display table and mark my territory. But she wasn’t my territory. I just convinced us both of that the other night.
“Yeah.”
She picks up some asparagus and nonchalantly places it in the cart, careful not to smash the bread. She’s acting like she just said she likes dogs or she has an English paper due tomorrow.
I glance down at the tits in question shamelessly. “When?”
“When no one’s looking. Definitely not when I’m standing on aisle twelve.” A mischievous smirk tilts her lips cutely. My stomach twists at the sparkle in her eyes. “I always hope no one catches me. So far so good.”
She tosses some bananas in the cart and heads for the register to check out. I follow behind like a stray puppy and discreetly rub her ass as she places our items on the counter. She giggles and swats my hand away.
Before she can reach into her purse I slide my credit card to the cashier and pay for the groceries. Most of them are for me anyways. Since I spent most evenings, and sometimes mornings now, at her apartment she started picking up some of my favorites.
Captain Crunch.
Oreos.
Ingredients for spaghetti. Since she found out it was my favorite dinner she had started cooking it at least once a week. She said she loved spaghetti and garlic bread just as much as I did but never cooked it much before. Cooking a big meal for one just wasn’t worth the effort.
Once we step into the parking lot I reach straight for the boob closest to me. She sees me coming and squeals before sprinting off toward my car. I laugh too and chase after her, each of us swinging two bags of groceries each. I let her carry the lighter bags so she manages to dodge me easily. By the time I make it to the car she’s already in the passenger seat with her grocery bags shoved in the back.
Her cheeks are rosy and hair a bit tussled from running. I stare at her a beat longer than usual.
“What?” She smiles shyly when she notices the attention.
How lucky I am to be with her even if it’s only temporary. I shake my head to dislodge the thoughts entering my mind.
“Nothing. Just thinking you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
Surprise crosses her features. She wasn’t expecting a compliment like that. I hadn’t been expecting to say it although I had thought it countless times. It was one of the thoughts flashing through my mind that made me uneasy.
It was true though.
I had been with a lot of girls but none had possessed even a fraction of Lacey’s natural beauty. She didn’t even have to try. In the recent weeks when we began spending the night with each other and not rushing out before falling asleep I got to observe her morning routine.
I watched her fuss in front of the mirror in the morning before work or class, lathering on creams and make-up, running a straightening iron through her blond hair. But she didn’t need any of that.
Her skin was smooth and naturally flawless. Her eyes were bright and clear. She has full, slightly pink lips that always feel so soft beneath mine.
Her fingers dance over the deep scar on the back of my hand as I drive us back to her place but she doesn’t ask about it. I know she must wonder where the unusual scar originated from. This isn’t the first time she’s wordlessly focused on it.
We aren’t exactly holding hands but we’re damn close. Friends with benefits don’t do this. I don’t know much about this type of arrangement but I’m damn sure hand holding is off the table.
She continues to lightly trace her fingers over the top of my hand while it rests on the shifter between us. I don’t make any move to pull away.
When we get back to her apartment I carry the groceries upstairs and follow her inside. I’m filled with a strange energy I’ve never had before. I’m anxious to rid myself of it. I don’t even recognize this feeling. Don’t think I want to. I’m afraid of what it could be.
That fills me with a jolt of anxiety as I wonder if I’m crossing a line I can’t take back. I was the one that drew the line in the first place. I don’t want to send mixed signals.
I couldn’t be with Lacey as anything more than what we already are. Fuck buddies. Friends with benefits. Whatever you wanted to call it. That was all that could be between us.
Desperate to get back to the light, carefree way things were at the grocery store I press her against the kitchen counter and grab her breasts brazenly as she stands on her tip toes to put the spaghetti sauce can in the pantry.
She giggles. “What are you doing? I’m putting away the groceries.”
“Not yet. I need to get reacquainted with the girls. Wouldn’t want you touching them more than I do.”
“I never said I was sitting around touching them all day.”
“Adjusting. Touching.” I shrug. “Either way. Let’s not risk it.”
I pull her top over her head and lay it down on the kitchen counter behind her. My hands reach around to unhook her bra. It takes two seconds and the bra is off, resting on top her shirt.
I suck her nipple in my mouth gently and she throws her head back. Waves of blond cascade down her back, free of any hair ties. After showing her other nipple the same attention I grip her thighs and lift her to sit on the edge of the counter.
She wraps her legs around my waist loosely while I take my time on her breasts. I lick long smooth strokes over every inch of skin exposed in front of me. Then I zero in on the sensitive area surrounding her nipples and her legs tighten around me, pulling me in closer.
“You’re delicious.” I playfully graze each nipple with my teeth, careful not to bite too hard. I trail down leisurely, kissing and licking along the way. Just enjoying the journey down and mentally mapping out her body for future use. I log away which spots make her squirm under my tongue so I can revisit tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that.
When I arrive at her hip I’m obstructed by the top of her jeans. I slide them down her waist and struggle to get them off. They’re skin tight and bunch up around her thighs. She kicks out of them eagerly, helping me undress her. I lock eyes with her again as I slowly pull her panties down.
The air between us is charged as I carefully help her get each foot free without looking away. My lips find their way back to her bare hip, tracing the bone with my tongue and enjoying her delicate scent of arousal.
Fingers tangle in my messy hair and tug as she tries to pull me back up above the waist. My mind, or my tongue, has a one track mind at the moment and have no intention of heading back up. I’m ready to sink lower. To taste. And that’s exactly what I do.
My first lick is cautious and a bit unsure.
Bursts of unknown flavors shoot through my taste buds. I love it so much I moan into her folds and dive back in for another taste. The truth is I’ve never tasted a woman like this before. It wasn’t something you do if you’re sleeping with the kind of random women that filled my past.
I feel strangely insecure about my performance during my first couple licks. I wasn’t used to not knowing what I was doing in bed but I was a fast learner.
Each time she made a noise of approval I was spurred on. Her moans and cries of pleasure steered me in the right direction and I quickly learned what she liked.
A loud, feral moan I’ve never heard from her pierces my eardrums. At that moment I begin heartily lapping her up. Her fingers in my hair are no longer pulling my head away. Now they’re pushing me further into her center as her legs tense and tremble around my head. Her thighs shake from the efforts of holding herself up on the counter. I break away long enough to throw her over my shoulder and carry her to the bedroom.
“You feel so good.” She spreads her legs wide as she lays back into the pillows and waits impatiently for me to resume my oral ministrations.
“You taste so good.” Lick. “I can’t get enough of you.” Lick.
“Ahh, Max! I’m so close!” She shouts, tugging at my hair and pushing my head down at the same time.
Lick. Lick. Lick.
She sinks her nails into my shoulder muscles and cries out. When she stops convulsing I crawl back up to kiss her lips. She dips her tongue in my mouth, tasting herself. It’s overwhelmingly erotic, more so than I ever dreamed possible, and I moan into her mouth.
The hardness in my jeans becomes painful as it throbs between us. Her hands yank down my zipper and she grips me in her warm hand, squeezing tight. I press my forehead to her shoulder and rock my hips into her fist. Desire is so thick in my veins that I’m bordering on desperation.
“Fuck.”
I reach into my pocket to grab a condom and come up empty. I slow and pat my pockets again, hoping for a different result.
No.
I want her so bad I’m about to explode. Her hand tugs me by the dick, leading me closer to her entrance.
“No. Fuck.”
“What?” She asks impatiently, wrapping one leg around my back to lower me so close I feel her wetness and my saliva coating her.
“I don’t have a condom.”
“Just fuck me.”
She rocks her hips up, rubbing us together in the most amazing way.
“I always use a condom. Always.” I say tightly, barely able to hold myself back from plunging inside her and drowning.
“I didn’t use them with…my ex. But I got tested. We’re good to go.”
She rocks her hips again and I clench my teeth. Sweat beads on my forehead and trickles down my brow. She reaches up and wipes it away.
“Are you sure?” I ask her through clenched molars. They’ll probably grind to dust from the force and I’ll end up needing dentures at the ripe age of twenty-one. But I have to be sure.
“I don’t want you to worry. I really did get tested.”
“I’m not worried about that.”
Her hips stop rocking against me. “I just feel stupid. Dirty.”
“You were in love. It’s ok to let your guard down when you’re in love. That doesn’t make you dirty.”
“That wasn’t love, Max.”
“I don’t even know what love is.” I admit, idly rubbing a finger along her wet folds. Our primed bodies were contradictions to the whispered words we were speaking. Her breath hitches from my touch. “I never had an example of it growing up.”
I kiss Lacey with reckless abandon, not wanting to get into any more detail about the cluster fuck of my childhood or think about what became of my parents charade of a marriage. Especially not right now.
It proves to be a pretty successful mode of distraction and refills my veins with warmth. I sink into her slowly and savor the sensation of being connected without a thin rubber barrier between us.
Inch by inch I push forward, kissing her passionately until I fill her fully. Her face scrunches as she squeezes her eyes shut tight. It feels so good. More real somehow than it ever has in my past.
I know she feels it too judging by the pulsating sensation gripping around me. I let our passion heighten. Our sweaty bodies grind together in a slow, torturously sweet buildup.
I try to hold back the mounting release, desperate to drag this out as long as I can. It’s impossible. I just can’t stop. My nerve endings are hyper-sensitive. When she runs her nails down my back and whispers my name in my ear breathily I lose it.
The moment is full of sensual pleasure but also…there’s something more. Something heavy.
It doesn’t even occur to me to pull out until I’m emptied of every drop I have to give. She hadn’t said anything about it one way or another and I suddenly panic, pulling out as if it would make a difference.
“Shit.”
“What?”
“I just came inside you.”
“I’m on the pill.”
Relief washes over me like the ocean waves on the sand. At that good news I fall back into the bedding beside her and let my mind relax. My finger trail between her thighs, enjoying the feel of my seed leaking out of her.
✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
The sound of her delicate voice jolts me out of my post-sex haze. I had been drifting off to sleep but I never manage to sleep deeply enough to truly rest. My mind is always running. It startles me to realize I haven’t been on edge as much since being with her. The anxiety simmering under the surface has been dampened to a degree.
“Was that true, what you said? You’ve never been in love?”
My eyes focus on the ceiling as I stare at nothing in particular. “No. Never have.”
“I’m sure a few have fallen in love with you. You’re too sexy.” The glint in her eyes sparkle as the bathroom light casts a glow throughout the rest of the room.
“Doubt it.”
“I don’t.”
“Look, Lace…I told you I thought being with random girls that worked for my family was normal. You’re the first girl I’ve ever fucked that doesn’t fuck for a living.”
She grows quiet at my confession, clearly trying to make sense of my words. They spilled out of me before I really had a chance to think them through. If I had I wouldn’t have let them escape from my mouth quite as brashly.
There’s something about Lacey that coaxes truthful confessions from me effortlessly. I don’t know how I feel about that. It can’t be a good thing considering I still have a few soul deep secrets I don’t plan on sharing.
Not with her or anyone else. Ever.
“Max…I didn’t know.”
She rolls on her side to face me and reaches out to rub my arm just as she always did when she thought I was in turmoil. Mirroring her, I roll to my side too.
“If anyone is dirty between the two of us it’s me.”
To my surprise she doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t withdraw from me or show any repulsion after my confession. She just keeps rubbing my arm, never pausing. Slowly she trails her fingers lightly down my arm. They land on the back of my hand to trace the years old scar.
“Where did this come from?”
I knew she was going to ask sooner or later. She had focused on it several times when holding hands or when the two of us were laying in bed late at night. To her credit she had never outright brought it up until now.
I couldn’t fault her for asking. It was an innocent question. One I would probably want to know too if the roles were reversed. She wouldn’t know the memories it brought back. The acidic taste it left in my mouth to think about that day.
It had healed the best it could over the year but was still noticeable enough. The pale, raised flesh spread two inches over the top of my hand. My palm had about an inch or so of scar tissue to match.
“I accidentally cut it.”
“You did?” She lifts an eyebrow skeptically. She’s not buying what I’m selling.
“Yep.”
She stares at me and I feel inclined to add to my well rehearsed story. I had practiced it enough to have it down pat since the incident happened back in high school. No one ever questioned me on my story until now. Lacey managed to be a lot of firsts for me.
“I cut it chopping up some vegetables. I was cooking and wasn’t paying attention.”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “You’re lying.”
Irritation sparks. “How do you know?”
I’m miffed by her knowing gaze. Her criticisms of a story no one else has ever challenged me on. Teachers. Friends. Random people I encountered. They all just took my word for it. Why the fuck couldn’t she?
“You don’t cook.”
“Well that day I did.”
She grabs my hand and looks down at the scar in inspection. “This cut is too deep for that. It goes all the way through your hand.” She turns my hand over and runs her thumb across that side of my palm for the proof. “It stabbed right through. How could you do that cutting vegetables?”
Why the hell did she have to be so observant? She was going to piece my life together in no time. I didn’t want to see what happened when she did. Annoyed with the interrogation, I snatch my hand from her and sit up on the edge of the bed to put distance between us.
“If you don’t want to tell me something that’s fine. But don’t lie to me again Max. Just don’t.”
And to my relief she drops the subject entirely.