Holly
I didn’t know what to expect when we stumbled into the house together. Part of me, a big part of me, was ready to go horizontal against the refrigerator again. A more decorous side of me, preferred the idea of going up to my bedroom and snuggling in comfort with Marty.
As soon as he entered the front door, he sniffed the air. “Whoa, something smells good.”
“Hungry?” I asked.
He looked hopefully in the direction of the kitchen. “I could eat about anything you can find out there.”
“As a matter of fact, I have a chuck roast and vegetables simmering in a crockpot.”
Acknowledging the fine aroma coming from the other room, I put aside thoughts of seducing Marty, opting for food instead.
“You put this on for a late supper?” He unhooked the crockpot and inspected the contents.
“I can’t seem to get full these days. I put the roast on just for the sake of feeding me after I came home tonight. I’ll share.”
Of course, the pecan pie I’d baked yesterday had a couple of pieces left. And there were three or four dinner rolls from the dozen I’d been working on.
While Marty hovered behind me, I dished up cooked carrots, red potatoes, and a couple of thick slices of beef before ladling broth over it all and handing the plate to him.
I put butter, salt, and pepper on the table, along with the pecan pie and rolls after I nuked then enough to knock the chill off. Then I filled my own plate and started to sit down.
“Coffee?” I asked before I got comfortable. “Or beer?”
“Nah. Water’s fine. It’s been dry as a bone where I’ve been. I need to rehydrate.”
I served up ice cubes in water for both of us and sat down across from him.
My voracious appetite disappeared, replaced by queasy awareness as I studied his missing eyebrow.
“My grandfather was a fireman,” I said, watching him attack his plate of food with gusto. “Your father-in-law knew him.”
“Yeah?”
My revelation didn’t slow him down a bit.
“Jack and I had a whole conversation about him.”
Marty reached for another roll, and said, “Doesn’t surprise me. Jack’s been around so long, he knows everyone connected to the business.”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“Nope. Is it a big secret?”
Is it a big secret? “Not anymore.” Years of tension I’d carried, began to uncoil. Marty raised the one eyebrow he had left, waiting expectantly.
“I was born Holly Anna Carpenter. I came to live in this house when my parents were killed in a car accident. I was nine years old.” I paused to look around the kitchen where I’d spent so much time. “William Carpenter, better known as Cap, was my one remaining relative. He was already retired when he took me in.”
I’d been in this house for holidays before it became my permanent residence. My grandmother had passed the year before, so Grandpa and I had been on our own.
Memories I’d repressed for years flooded my mind. “He was seventy-nine, and seemed older than dirt when he brought me here. No doubt, having a kid to look after, aged him even more. But, he was good to me and we got along fine.”
“What happened?”
“He died.” I could hardly keep myself from sobbing. My eyes watered as if it had happened a moment before.
“How old were you then?” Marty prompted me.
“Fourteen.”
“And you assumed the name Smith, because…?”
“Well, as to that,” I said, my grief abating as I replaced that memory with another. “My mother was a Smith, so it’s not like I just yanked some name from limbo. As to why I dropped the Carpenter part of my name… Roger and Megan lived in the group home where I was placed. I needed friends and we jelled from the beginning.
“You know, Maxine is Megan’s aunt. She couldn’t get custody because of her work habits but, she visited every week, supplied Megan with money to spend, and checked up on the house parents to make certain she was being treated right. When Megan claimed me as her friend, I kind of fell into Maxine’s protective zone as well. I’d been there six months, when Roger was old enough to leave, Megan said she was ditching the place as well, and so…”
Marty frowned. “You were how old?”
“Fourteen. I didn’t stay there, long. And I started calling myself Smith on the off-chance someone in the system was looking for Holly Carpenter.”
“How does a fourteen-year-old survive on the streets of Pittsburgh?”
“I was never homeless. Maxine got me a job washing dishes for Buddy’s BBQ and helped Roger find an apartment we could all three afford.” Maxine was a canny business woman. She’d set us down at a table and made us do our math, figuring how much we had to make to pay the utilities, the rent, and buy food.
“‘You’ve got to be able to take care of yourselves, she told us.’ But she had our backs every step of the way.” It had been our first place and finding work, balancing our budget, and setting our goals had been a better vocational instruction than any school could teach.
“She made us fit time in for real school, though,” I said and laughed. Maxine was big on education. One of her baby doll employees was and still is a teacher by day. Claudia signed me up to be home schooled, got me the course work, and made sure I turned it in on time. Without her, I wouldn’t have even known how to apply for the scholarships that got me into college.”
Marty said, “I left home at fourteen as well.”
His grimace let me know there was more to the story. “Share,” I ordered him.
“Hopefully, our kid will get your brains. Unlike you, I was never good at school. I was too big for the desks and scared the teachers. I missed too many days in the sixth grade and the teacher said she was holding me back and I wouldn’t be moving to the seventh the next year. They’d already done this to me twice, so…”
“You quit?”
“Yep. I was fourteen. When I told my grandmother, she threw me out of the house. Good thing I was big. I never had trouble getting a job.”
We contemplated each other across the table. Then I reached for the pie and broke the mood.
“You’re not eating both pieces, are you?” he growled.
I took pity on him and slid the last slice onto his plate. “Ice cream?” I asked as I topped mine with a scoop of vanilla.
“Oh yeah.” It was good. Kind of fun sharing a late-night meal in the kitchen with him.
I wasn’t sure what was happening next—upstairs together or upstairs separately—and I didn’t want to ask so I ran a sink full of dish water and began meal clean-up. He carried his plate to the counter and picked up the dishtowel I’d laid there.
“When did Roger begin performing?”
I thought about Roger’s Regina. “He was bussing tables at a gay bar when the main act didn’t show. He came home that night, still dressed like a woman and I didn’t recognize him.”
Roger had been eighteen and we were all struggling to pay the rent. He’d developed the character he’d devised that night, and Regina’s performances put him through college.
“He’s pretty amazing,” Marty agreed. “Think he likes Garret?”
I laughed. “Well, baby doc does a mean tango. I’d say he’s already made a positive impression.”
“Just so you understand,” he said gruffly, only half teasing. “I don’t want your friend to go breaking my boy’s heart.”
“Not my department.” I shook my head, rinsed the last plate, and handed it to him. “They are both educated, intelligent, adults. I’m not about to get mixed up in their relationship.”
“How about ours?”
The question caught me off guard, though it shouldn’t have.
“I think I’m pretty well mixed up in, and about, our relationship,” I answered. “It’s not like either of us actually chose to have one.”
“Not true,” he answered me quickly. “I wanted to know you better from the start.” He grinned. “I think you wanted to know me better, too. Why else make a trip to my office to return your taxi loan, when you could have simply mailed it to me?”
I’d been too invested in having the last word to consider mailing him his hundred.
Marty
Thanks to Elaine, I’d known exactly where to find Holly. I’d not been concerned that she might party too hard and hurt the baby. My angst was more focused on her meeting some new guy who’d sweep her off her feet. As soon as I’d arrived, seated her on my lap, and wrapped my arms around her waist, I’d calmed down. When I’d seen who’d she’d gone clubbing with—Maxine, Elaine, Megan, Garret, Harley-Jane—I felt like a complete dunderhead for worrying and settled down to have fun.
I’d never been jealous or possessive with Kit. Which is why my current emotional state had me flummoxed. I could live with not being Holly’s lover. But, I didn’t like the idea of her finding a different bed partner she preferred over me. Maybe it was my ego talking, possibly it was something else.
I yawned uncontrollably, exhausted. I’d been hungry, but the late meal and her relaxing company, left me swaying on my feet. “Sorry, Holly. I’m going to have to say goodnight. I’m beat.”
“Me too,” she agreed. “I’ll walk up with you.”
Holly
It was a wide staircase and we mounted the steps together. When we reached the top, without hesitation, Marty turned toward the door of the room I’d rented him.
Darn it. My hormones were screaming to drag him into my big bed. I craved him as much as I’d craved that pecan pie earlier. I was tired of denying it, too.
I caught his hand and stopped him. When he gazed at me, his thoughts hidden behind his exhaustion, I stood on my tiptoes and pulled his face close enough to brush my lips across his.
It was as if I’d thrown gasoline on hot coals. He enveloped me in a hug, and I leaned in, molding myself to every part of him. His tongue penetrated my mouth, his hands roamed then settled on stroking up and down my back, rousing my lust to a fevered pitch. I groaned, rubbing my suddenly too heavy breasts, against his chest.
My nails dug into his shoulder as he cupped my ass, lifting me higher against his erection. He was cocked and ready as was I as we ground against each other.
“Time for bed,” I gasped and grabbed his hand, pulling him into my room.
Without releasing each other, we somehow managed to get our clothes off, shirts and socks flying into the air until we were both naked. I groaned as warm lips found my nipple, and moaned as he first suckled, then rolled it against the roof of his mouth.
“I want you in me now,” I ordered, trying to pull him down on the bed.
An evil chuckle met my demand. “But first…” He claimed my mouth again, as his fingers parted the lips of my sex and rubbed the sensitive bundle of nerves there.
His other hand rested at the small of my back, supporting my backward arch as I parted my thighs to give him better access. When one of his thick fingers slid in and out of me, he crooned, “Come for me baby doll.”
With a keening cry, I obeyed, losing any semblance of control in this mating dance. He kept working me as I plummeted to earth from the orgasm, wringing every ounce of pleasure from me before lowering me to the bed.
When I lay on the sheets like a limp noodle, he moved between my legs and began to push inside. Even with my slick readiness, I couldn’t help squirming in discomfort as his thick shaft made a place for himself.
Before I caught my breath, he drew my legs up to either side of him and slowly began to withdraw until only the tip of him rested inside me. And then of course, with a powerful thrust, he seated himself again. Unbelievably, I began the climb toward another orgasm.
“Hurry,” I whimpered, trying to readjust the pace to fit my needs.
“I’m boss, remember,” he growled, “I set the rhythm.”
Oh yeah? Planting one foot firmly on the sheets, I twisted my hips and heaved, rolling him until I ended up on top seating him deep inside of me. “Yes,” I muttered triumphantly as I lifted, twisting and grinding down on his cock, loving the delicious pleasure that tingled in every nerve ending.
I teetered on the precipice, ready to leap into heaven again, when he flipped me onto my back, caught my hands above my head, and began thrusting faster and faster. He reached between us and rubbed that lovely spot of nerves he’d found before.
My orgasm exploded through me, tingling every nerve and tightening my channel where it gripped him, convulsively milking him with rhythmic pulses. His cock swelled inside me, announcing his own climax as I neared completion. I wrapped my arms around his back and held on. He held my gaze, thrusting harder and moving faster as our bodies slapped together, dancing in counterpoints to the same song.
Dear God, I could love this man… I teetered on the edge, gasping for breath as he thrust harder and moved faster until I could wait no longer. My nails bit deep into his shoulders, and my gasp became a scream. As he found release, we shuddered to the finish-line together.
Marty collapsed and we lay sprawled together who knows how long. Eventually he shifted to his side, spooning around me. My body ached to surrender to sleep, but I fought it to prolong this moment. Maybe he felt the same way, because he kissed my neck and then nibbled affectionately at my ear.
It all felt so good, so right. I relaxed deeper and deeper into the security of his arms and have no idea what prompted the words that escaped my lips.
“What did you call your wife?” Of course, I’d ruined the moment.
He stopped chewing on my ear and barked, “Kit, why?”
“I mean when you were being affectionate, you know, playful.”
“Kitten. Again, why?”
“You’ve called me Little Bit, Baby Doll, Sweet Cheeks…” I paused in my recitation trying to remember all the names.
“Don’t forget Wild Child,” Marty supplied another of his nicknames. His arms tightened around me again, and I could feel the laughter rumbling in his chest.
“In my defense, I didn’t know your real name for a long time, and it’s taken me until tonight to actually discover your full name. It’s Holly Anna Smith Carpenter, right?”
I nodded yes and then confessed tiredly, “I keep forgetting that I was Marilyn when we met, because frankly, it feels like I’ve known you forever.”
“Forever’s good,” he murmured, kissing my neck again. That’s all I remember until I woke the next morning with leg thrown over his hip and my head on Marty’s chest, as he thumbed my nipple, teasing me awake.
“I have to shower,” I warned him. And other things. Morning mouth is not something I wanted to share. I scrambled from the bed and into the bathroom. No sense in false modesty, he’d seen all of me and I didn’t know where my clothes were anyway.
I shut the door and took care of business, then stepped into the shower. I heard the outer door open and close, and my hot shower blasted ice cold for a moment when Marty flushed the commode.
“Okay if I use your tooth brush?” he asked with garbled words, demonstrating he’d already begun. Objecting would have been too late and ridiculous as well, given our recent mouth exchanges.
“Use cold water,” I yelled. My water heater left a lot to be desired and was on a list of needed replacements. But, what’s a little cold water between friends.
The temperature in the shower warmed up nicely, when he joined me, demonstrating his sexual prowess standing upright with us both slippery with soap.