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That’s when my mouth drops open. For some reason, I thought my mom had a modest house dress beneath the long sweater, but instead, she’s wearing a tight red dress that hugs her curves, showing off her assets to their best advantage. What the hell?
Rose takes a moment to glance at herself in my mirror, and fluffs her hair out so that the curls drape prettily over her shoulders. Then she flashes me a smile, and for the first time, I realize she’s got red lipstick and mascara on.
“I thought you were going to the store,” I stammer.
She nods.
“I am, but I’m also going to see a friend afterwards,” she says airily. “Don’t wait up for me, okay?” Then with a waft of perfume, my mom disappears and the door shuts. I stare at the space where she just stood. Okay, what was that about? Who knows? Rose has her ways.
With that, I hear the car pulling out of the garage, and sigh. My mom has always been a mystery to me. I love her and I know that she loves me, but seriously, she can be so over the top. Sighing, I close my textbook again and drum my fingers against the cover. Seriously, that was really weird! Was she going out? Like on a date? But didn’t she just break up with Mason? After all, there are rebounds, and then there are rebounds that happen within the blink of an eye.
Suddenly a low rumble disrupts my thoughts and I jolt forwards in my desk chair. What was that? My ears strain once more, my eyes going wide when I realize what it is. Holy shit, Mason’s singing in the shower! Clearly, this man isn’t sad or depressed because he’s chanting an old ditty about drunken sailors and riding the waves.
My mind drifts a bit, and I imagine Mason standing beneath the hot water, his muscular physique naked. To be honest, our walls are paper thin and I’ve heard Mason and my mom going at it in her bedroom in the past. It’s so naughty to listen, but sometimes I’d pretend that I’m the woman Mason’s touching. I pretend that the gorgeous man is stroking my curves and making me come so hard that I scream, instead of my mom in the bedroom next door.
But what am I doing? The fireman is Rosanne’s ex-boyfriend, and I have no right going there, even if it’s just my imagination. Except now, they’re no longer together, and he’s still naked as the day he was born in our house, getting clean. Should I take a peek? Or should I be a good girl and leave the gorgeous man in peace?
2
Mason
Rosanne’s break up speech wasn’t that unexpected, actually. She’s been vague and unresponsive lately, and usually that only points to one thing: another man. As a result, I knew it was coming and I’m not too broken up about it either. After all, my ex is like cotton candy. She’s amazing to look at, sticky sweet those first couple bites, but ultimately, not a long-term prospect. Rose is just too scatterbrained, even if she’s got a figure like Jessica Rabbit.
But there’s another reason why I’m not sad about the break-up, and it’s because I’ve been an asshole myself. Over this last year, I’ve met Rose’s daughter a couple times, and every time I see Charity, my physical response seems to become more inappropriate. It’s her sweet smile and innocent eyes, not to mention the killer bod beneath those t-shirts and jeans. In fact, she’s even bouncier and juicier than Rosanne, not to mention younger.
Damn, I’m such a bastard to even be thinking like this. With jerky motions, I strip off my clothes and yank on the shower. What grown man fantasizes about his girlfriend’s teen daughter? I’m probably twice Charity’s age, with ten times her sexual experience. Yet the image of Charity’s bouncy breasts encased in a tight tank top continue to haunt me, and there have been a few times when I was in bed with Rosanne but pretending it was Charity moaning my name.
It’s so fucking sick and twisted and I scowl at myself in the mirror. A handsome man with ink-black hair, blue eyes, and carved features scowls back. There are so many women in Cherry Falls, and quite a few make no secret of the fact that they’d love to date me. Yet, the only woman I’ve been fantasizing about lately is Charity Denver, a bodacious teenage temptation who also happens to be completely off limits. Fuck, I’m such a bastard.
With that, I step into the small stall and douse myself with hot water. Good. I need to cleanse these impure thoughts from my mind because I’m a thirty-five year old man who only last week, made love to Rosanne. How can I think this way about her little girl?
