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“Yes,” I say breathily, thinking of her naked skin, a needle gently pressed against it, my woman moaning like it’s making her soppy hole wetter.
“That’s cool. Do you think you could…”
This is where her bravery fails her. She stops herself from going the rest of the way. I could change the subject here and get her talking about something else. I could tell her I’ve got a meeting. I could say anything. I know this is a bad idea.
“I could still ink somebody up,” I say, smirking. “I’ve even got a kit. I’ve done a couple for my friend, Ben.”
I think of Ben at home, Kelly detoxing, and Petey dosed up on meds from the vet.
“Hmm…” She raises her eyebrow, a playful smile touching her lips simultaneously.
“Are you trying to drop a hint, Ellie?”
“It wouldn’t be… inappropriate, would it?”
I swallow. We’re crossing a line. “There’s no reason anybody has to know.”
That, right there, is the point of no return. What I just said. It’s my place to know better. Even if she wants to be alone with me, I should stop it, but I want it too damn bad. That’s the blunt truth.
“That’s true,” she murmurs. “Maybe… I don’t know. We’ll arrange something?”
“If I give you my cell number, can I trust you not to spread it around?” I ask.
“I promise, sir.”
My balls go tight. My head swims. I’m sure she did that last sir on purpose. I think she knows the effect she’s having on me.
“Okay, thank you,” she says.
I watch her go, staring at her thick ass. Then she glances over her shoulder, and we smile at each other. I can imagine telling our grandchildren about that smile.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Ellie
I walk up the driveway, knowing something’s up when I see Aunt Jane’s car. She stayed on the West Coast. She has a job out there, a fiancé, a life. It didn’t make sense for her to move just because her niece’s world became unbearable. We still talk often.
I’d know if she was planning on visiting. The tidings get hella worse when I walk into the hallway and hear the sound of her crying. This isn’t just crying. This is wailing. This is like all the agony in the world is spilling out of her.
I rush into the living room to find Aunt Jane sprawled out on the couch, her face red, her eyes swollen. She looks possessed. It makes me feel guilty, but my first reaction is fear.
Mom sits on the edge of the couch, holding her shoulders and talking quickly, but nothing’s getting through. Aunt Jane screams at the ceiling.
“What’s wrong?” I say, standing near them. “Aunt Jane?”
“He… he found somebody else. This whole time. With somebody else. And he chose her. I didn’t even know she existed, and he chose her.”
She lets out another horrible wail. I kneel next to her, placing my hand in hers.
“I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
Aunt Jane sits up, glancing at Mom. It’s like my presence has calmed her down a little. Or maybe it’s because she’s always tried to seem strong in front of me. She’s more willing to lose control with her sister, Mom.
“He cried when he told me. He said it was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but she was pregnant, and he wanted to do the right thing. Can you believe that? That’s what he said. We were together for four years. We were going to get married. He told me he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.”
I squeeze her hand, not sure what else to do.
“So I got in my car, drove across the country, and here I am.”
“She hasn’t slept,” Mom says softly.
“This has nothing to do with my sleep schedule.”
“It does,” Mom says, blunt now. “You need rest, but you’ve chugged too many caffeine drinks.”
“I suppose if I’d consumed less caffeine, he wouldn’t have left me.”
“Jane.”
“At least it wasn’t at the altar.”
“Do you want a drink, Aunt Jane?” I ask. “Water? Hot cocoa? I’ll make it how you used to make mine, with the marshmallows.”
“Sure, kid,” Jane says, slumping on the couch. “That would be aces.”
It’s something she used to say, and it makes me smile. Preparing the cocoa, I try to work this out—Aunt Jane and her love life from hell. Mom will never give me the details, but I know Aunt Jane has had it tough, even before I was born. There’s an event hinted at a few times but never outright acknowledged.
I’ve never asked either of them about it. I’m not sure what I’d say. You got this look in your eyes once, making me sure something was going on. They’d probably think I was crazy.
When I return with the cocoa, Jane seems a little less frazzled. She’s tied up her hair and rolled up the sleeves of her hoodie. She sits with her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around them.
