Wanted You More, page 30
My leggings.
His mouth finds one of my nipples as he works his hand downward to the apex of my thigh. I’m squirming with anticipation as his fingers tease the aching nerves. I know the second he starts touching me that it won’t take long for the orgasm to take over.
I’m arching upward when the pad of his thumb presses against my clit and two of his fingers hook inside of me. Bursts of light dot my eyes as I suck in a startled breath.
“That’s it,” he coaxes, continuing to move his fingers as I come around them. He kisses me briefly before pulling back enough to watch me come down from the high. “Give it all to me, baby girl.”
I grab his wrist once my hips settle back onto the bed. “Please,” I whisper.
It’s the only thing I need to tell him.
He reaches for the nightstand and gets out a condom, making me feel a little disappointed, which he must see. “You’re not on the pill,” he reminds me, kissing me lightly. “It’s better for us to be safe.”
I nod, knowing he’s right.
He positions himself on top of me, kisses me slowly, and softly and eases himself inside. His mouth captures my drawn-out moan as I stretch around him. Both arms circle around his neck as he begins moving, each time getting deeper and deeper as I meet his hips.
Noah moves one of my legs over his hip to bury himself further, circling his pelvis to hit all the perfect spots. My jaw drops as silent moans make it hard to think straight.
My nails dig into him until I’m sure marks will be left behind, and it only makes me greedier. I want people to know he’s mine—to know those marks are left by someone marking her territory.
I move his head to claim his lips again, smashing our lips together and twisting our tongues. His teeth nip my lip as he breathes harshly into my mouth with every meeting of our bodies. We both can hear how turned on I am by this; there’s no hiding it. It only seems to fuel him as his palm grabs my other leg to lift it and match the other. He holds them like that, rolling into me with a new fervor that has new noises rising up my throat.
“Fuck,” Noah groans, neck getting red as he dips his mouth to the crook of my throat. Nipping me, he says, “I’m going to cum.”
I tighten my legs around him and arch up to give him the perfect angle. “Do it,” I beg, using the heels of my feet to help him move. “I want you to cum inside me.”
That seems to be all it takes before his head drops against me, and a guttural sound escapes him as his hips still inside me.
We lie like that for a long time, my arms holding him to me and his lips peppering kisses along my shoulder and collarbone.
I twitch as he slowly pulls out, careful to take care of the condom before crawling back into bed beside me. He puts his arm around me and tugs me into his side, letting me use his chest as a pillow.
We don’t get to stay like that for long before there’s a loud knock at the front door and it opens. Within seconds, we hear, “Where’s our graduating baby boy?”
I lock up when I hear Elizabeth’s excited tone, followed by Ben’s gruff one.
Noah cusses and moves off the bed. He quickly slides on a pair of boxers and sweatpants before standing up. “Take your time getting dressed.”
If he’s nervous about them knowing I’m here, he doesn’t give it away as he leans over and kisses my temple before disappearing from the bedroom.
I take a few deep breaths as I grab some clean clothes I washed yesterday. Without thinking, I walk out of the room in a pair of my favorite leggings and one of Noah’s plaid shirts that swallows my tiny frame.
Noah’s conversation with his parents stops as soon as I walk into the living room. They look from him to me, probably seeing flushed cheeks and bedhead, and study the oversized clothes on me.
Elizabeth beams.
Ben chuckles.
Noah walks over to me and hooks an arm around my waist. He isn’t hiding it.
Hiding me.
I smile up at him.
It’s his father who says, “It was only a matter of time before that happened.”
A ghost of a smile tilts Noah’s lips as he bends over to peck the crown of my head. He whispers, “I bet you twenty bucks Mom is going to welcome you into the family.”
Elizabeth hears that and walks over, swatting his arm. “Oh, hush. There’s never been a moment when she wasn’t already part of it.”
To prove it, she pulls me into her arms for a giant hug.
And it doesn’t take long to return it, squeezing her as tightly as I would my own mother. She says, “Welcome to the family, sweetie.”
Noah snorts.
All I say is, “Shut it, Kingsley.”
His dad laughs. “All right, kids. We’ve got a graduation ceremony to get ready for and we figured we’d take you out for a celebratory breakfast. You hungry, Austen?”
It’s the boy who takes my hand who says, “When is she not hungry, Dad?”
SUMMER 2023
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
My best friend throws a balled-up napkin at me, peeling my attention away from my phone to the girl who’s been on the other side of the country for far too long. “Sorry, what did you say?”
Marybelle groans dramatically. “I knew you weren’t listening. I’m telling you about the best sex of my whole life and you’re probably thinking about Noah.”
The guy she’s been talking about for the past forty minutes is twice her age. I’m not surprised he has experience. “He’s old enough to be your dad,” I tell her, picking up the chocolate milkshake and dipping a fry in it. “I’d be shocked if he didn’t know how to have good sex.”
She rolls her eyes. “Most men don’t even know what a clit is, regardless of their age.” Stealing a fry, she pops it into her mouth. “How are things going with lover boy?”
I can’t help but smile a little. “They’re fine. Good.” I’m back home with Dad and Wolfe, but I have sleepovers at Noah’s when he isn’t too tired from work now that he’s started at the law firm. He still volunteers as an EMT every other weekend, so we don’t always get as much time together as I want. “We’re having dinner tomorrow night.”
“And the skank?”
Shooting her a look at the reference she uses for Bailey, I say, “Don’t call her that.”
She shrugs. “Fine. Is she finally leaving him alone? If I were you, I’d go psycho if I knew they were still in contact.”
It isn’t like I’ve asked Noah if they’re speaking, but he hasn’t said anything about it. If they were, wouldn’t he bring it up? He doesn’t check his phone when it goes off, and on the off chance it does, it’s usually work-related or his family.
I shake it off. “She has to have moved on,” I theorize, grabbing another fry. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. You still haven’t told me about work.”
The face she makes has me wondering what must have happened other than her hooking up with some old guy. “It wasn’t what I expected it to be, but I guess it could be worse.”
That’s all she’s going to give me? “The last thing you told me was how pissed you were at your boss because all she’d let you do is fetch papers from the copier and transcribe meeting minutes when she wasn’t demanding coffee.”
She takes a fry and stares at it a little too thoughtfully. “Promise you won’t be mad?” Her eyes peek up at me, making me a little nervous.
I reach for her hand. “What is it?”
“He’s her husband.”
“He’s—” Confusion sinks in for a second, but I stop myself when I realize what she’s talking about. “Oh my God, Marybelle! You’re screwing your boss’s husband?”
She shushes me as if the few people around us are going to rat her out. “Chill!”
How can I be chill? “I’m surprised, is all. I know you like to test the waters, but you can really screw yourself out of everything you’re building if you’re not careful.”
Marybelle makes a disgruntled noise and steals my milkshake for a sip. “What am I risking? I barely get paid minimum wage and for what? To be disrespected. They don’t even love each other. He said they’re in an open marriage.”
While I’m all for people living their best lives, this doesn’t sit well with me. “You don’t, like, love him, do you? Because if they’re still married and willingly sleeping around then it’s not like he’d leave her. He probably would have by now if he was going to.”
Her lips twitch. For the first time ever, I think there’s a solid chance she may love somebody. A male somebody. Throughout our friendship, she’s claimed to have loved people, but they were always short-term infatuations.
“Belles,” I say cautiously.
Her shoulders drop. “I know it’s dumb, but this guy makes me feel good about myself. He doesn’t talk down to me or treat me like I’m immature. I feel like an adult around him.”
Having no idea what to say, I reach out and take her hand. “I’m glad he treats you well, but I don’t want to see you get hurt. Promise me that you’ll be careful.”
She nods. “I will. It isn’t like I expect him to get a divorce for me. I just want…” Her shoulders lift limply. “I don’t know what I want. Him. His attention. To be taken seriously.”
I get that, but I don’t think this situation will end the way she hopes it will. Something tells me I don’t need to tell her that, so I choose to let the topic go.
For now.
“So,” my bestie says, leaning back. “How much trouble do we want to get in this summer?”
* * *
The sun beams down on my body as I lounge on the beach next to Wolfe. When Dad asked us if we wanted a family beach day, my brother and I shared the same concerned look. As if the sudden trip wasn’t shocking enough, I’d been more surprised when Wolfe asked Dad if he could invite a friend.
Not just a friend, his girl friend. Even though he’s insisted nothing is going on between him and Raven, it’s obvious he’s interested in her. The handheld game he brought has barely been touched unless he was showing her how to play it.
Grabbing my phone, I send a quick reply to Marybelle, who’s being forced to have family time since she’s been spending most of her time with me. She’s been blowing me up all morning about the outing her dad has planned to meet more industry people closer to home, which makes both of us wonder how much he knows about her time in California.
“Is that Noah?” Wolfe asks, finally looking from Raven to me.
I shake my head, resting my phone on top of my bag. “No, he’s at work. I’m talking to Marybelle.”
Wolfe hasn’t said much about Noah and me since he drove me home and followed me inside. I didn’t introduce him as anything, but our conjoined hands seemed to say enough. Dad stared at the two of us, but Kamala—Sue—was there, so it offered him a distraction from obsessing over the boy beside me.
My brother eventually says, “You seem happy. Like Dad.”
I look over at him with a teasing smile. “I think there’s something in the air.” Gesturing toward Raven on the other side of him who’s engrossed in whatever video game he brought, I wiggle my eyebrows. “I am. You like Noah, right?”
He shrugs nonchalantly. “I guess.”
“And what about Sue?”
Our eyes both go to where Dad is walking with my former professor along the water.
My brother looks back at me. “She’s nice. It was pretty strange having a woman over at the house, but…” His lips start to curl downward.
“What?” I press.
“Sometimes I don’t remember Mom,” he admits quietly, eyes going back to Dad. “Do you ever feel like you’re cheating on her memory or something?”
I rub his arm. “You can’t think of it like that. Don’t you think Mom would want Dad to be happy? That’s what people who love each other do.”
He bobs his head from side to side before nodding. “I guess so, yeah.”
I smile in amusement. “Real convincing.”
All he does is roll his eyes and focus back on Raven, pointing at the screen and getting animated about whatever is happening.
Dad and Sue start walking back, but she gestures toward the concession stand and veers off as my father approaches, where I set my towel up on the sand.
“Hey, pumpkin,” he greets, sitting beside me with an easy smile on his face. “Are you having fun?”
I’m getting a tan while relaxing, so I’d say it could be a lot worse. “I am. Today was a good idea.”
There’s a slight wiggle to his foot. He used to do that when he was nervous about something. Wolfe has the same tell. “I’m sorry that Noah couldn’t be here.”
It was sweet of him to offer to extend the invite since Sue and Raven are here, but it doesn’t bother me that I’m on my own. “It’s okay. He’s still settling into his new job anyway. Maybe another time.”
Dad nods, looking out toward the water where people are swimming, splashing, and laughing in their little groups.
He wants to talk about something. “Is everything okay?”
His chuckle is soft as his shoulders drop a fraction. “You’ve always been observant.”
I don’t know about that, but I don’t argue.
“I did want to talk to you about something,” he says cautiously. “Do you remember the group that did a marathon in benefit for gun control last summer? The one they dedicated to the victims of the Shakespeare Park shooting?”
How could I forget about them? I still had the contact information for Britta somewhere. I don’t know why I didn’t get rid of it other than laziness. “Yeah, I do. They raised a bunch of money, but I still don’t like it.”
Dad looks a little nervous.
I frown. “What?”
“They’re doing it again this summer.”
Blinking, I let that sink in.
As if that’s not bad enough, Dad says, “I think we need to go. As a family. You didn’t attend last year, but maybe this is a sign to be part of it this time. They raised a good amount for a good cause.”
My lips twitch. “Dad…”
“We’ve been avoiding this for far too long, Austen. That’s on me.” Rubbing one of his legs, he loosens a sigh. “There were so many people, so many families, impacted by the shooting and continue to be. I’ve let us ignore it like it would just go away, but it never will. The least we could do is show up to support the cause, especially because of the funds that we were given that are paying for your education now. Don’t you think that’s worth being thankful for?”
“Now I have to be thankful that my mother was killed? I’d rather be in debt for the rest of my life,” I reply tartly. Whose idea was this? “Why do you care about this now? You weren’t pressuring me to go last year. You said it was my choice.”
He doesn’t answer right away.
I look to Sue, who’s shaking some older man’s hand by the stand as she waits for her drink. “Is it because of her?”
“Austen—”
“I’m trying to understand,” I tell him, cutting him off. My voice is hard, so I have to take a deep breath. “I want to understand the reason. That’s all.”
Dad shakes his head. “Sue and I talked about it, but this is inevitably my choice. You’re in college now. You’re an adult who can make up her own mind like I told you last summer. I won’t force you to come, but I do believe it’d be a good idea. Maybe you could write about it. The local paper picks up stories that people submit. It could go to a future portfolio now that you’ve decided on a major.”
I told Dad that I submitted my official form to claim journalism as my course of study. He seemed excited for me, albeit a little surprised. But he read every one of my assignments and seemed impressed. It made me feel good—like I was figuring things out for myself.
“Plus, Wolfe already agreed.”
My head whips over to my brother, who’s been eavesdropping. He looks guilty as soon as we lock eyes, sheepishly glancing away.
I’m the last to know, as always.
Because I’m the wildcard.
“Just look up the event to learn about it,” he suggests, lifting his shoulders. “They’re going to have some media there to try getting more attention for them. Maybe get more runners this year to break last year’s record. Sue, Wolfe, and I will be there, and you know you’re always welcome. I’m sure your boyfriend and his family will come support you if you ask him to. Marybelle too, as long as she doesn’t have anything up her sleeve.”
Hearing Dad say the word “boyfriend” makes me feel strange. “He’s not…” I stop myself from denying us. It’s obvious we’re something, so why shut it down. “I’ll think about it, but I’m not promising to go.”
He dips his chin, knowing that’s the best he’s going to get from me.
A few hours later, I’m cross-legged on the bed with my laptop in front of me, looking up Everytown for Gun Safety and reading about its short history online.
That turns into twenty minutes of research. Then thirty. Forty. The deeper I go, the more articles I find, and the heavier my heart sits in my chest because of how many stories are connected to the necessity of this group.
It’s well past midnight when I rub my sore eyes. Staring at my computer and reading all the tragic interviews from other mass shooting events is too much.
I can feel the emotion swarming in my throat, but it doesn’t reach my eyes.
I want to cry.
For those people impacted.
For me. For Mom. For Wolfe.
But I still can’t.
I grab my phone, hands shaking slightly.
Me: I know you’re still mad but, I was wondering if we could talk about something important
Me: It has to do with my mom
Biting my thumbnail, I wait for my roommate to text me back.
Instead of doing that, she calls.
When I hear her concerned voice, relief fills my chest. “Are you okay?”
Sniffing back tears, I blow out a breath to collect myself. “I think so. I wanted to talk to you about the charity work that your parents do. Have they ever worked with a group called Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense in America?”
I remember her listing a bunch of organizations they’ve partnered with in the past, and this one rings a bell.
