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Page 20

 J.A. Huss

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She rolls over and turns her back to me in bed. I take this as a sign. I’m a superstitious actor, I look for signs. And this qualifies. I can’t tell her yet. Tomorrow. When I take her home. I’ll tell her before I leave. For sure. She turns back and her hand slides up and down my abs.
“You’ve got my attention, Mrs. Invisible Man.”
“Mmmm. I need to go home.”
‘What?”
“I do, I have so much to do. Should I buy a ticket?”
“What?” I’m floored. Never in a million years did I think she’d want to go home today. “But it’s Saturday.”
“Yeah, I know. But I can’t keep avoiding Bebe. She will want to talk about the interview.”
They aired it last night. The video of Sam last Christmas was all over the place before dinner, but Sam handled it well. She was diagnosed with Tourette’s Syndrome when she was nine and it devastated her. She had no control over the tics for years. Rapid blinking. Sucking in her breath. Not swearing, she had very few verbal issues. But it was enough to kill her self-esteem and give her a case of obsessive-compulsive disorder as well. She outgrew most of it, but when she gets stressed, she panics and they come back.
Tray was her first real relationship. I guess I shouldn’t have been so surprised that she was a virgin. That must’ve been enough to bring back her condition.
That interview was a major step forward for her. It’s time and she knows that.
“What’s wrong?” Grace asks, lifting her head up off my chest so she can see my face.
“Just… Samantha. She’s been doing so well for so many years. I really thought it was over.”
“She was very strong and determined in her interview.”
She was. I feel very proud of my little sister right now. And no one gave a shit about that video of her. The whole country is talking about Grace. “I know she was exceptionally strong and it went better than I ever imagined. But I worry about her. And you,” I add. Because I’m far more worried about Grace than Sam. “Bebe is your best friend,” I tell her, bringing us back to the topic of her leaving. “You can call her on the phone and go home tomorrow, no big deal.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to turn into one of those girls who drops her BFFs for a guy. Even if said guy is a famous movie-star. Tonight is Dirty Heaven and I’ve been absent so much lately. I don’t feel connected. I feel… sort of… adrift.”
“You’re having social media withdrawal?”
“Mmmm,” she says. Her hand dips down to my hard cock and I smile. She doesn’t want to leave, she just feels obligated to spend time being herself. And that’s not a hard wish to grant in our fairytale land.
“So play Dirty Heaven here.”
“Here?” She looks around quickly. “Oh God, I’d be way too embarrassed.”
“Why, because all your tweets are about me?”
“That, and if they know I’m with you, and they will, they will torment you relentlessly.”
My hand slips up to her breast and I pinch her nipple. Not hard, but forcefully, making her squeal a little. “So let them. You can guard my honor.”
That makes her snort. “I have to be honest, for the last three years my Dirty Heaven nights have been all about you. Now what do I tweet about?”
“Ah,” I say as my hand dips down between her legs. “I see the problem. You don’t want to make any promises you can’t keep.”
She giggles against my chest.
“Just call up Bebe, once we’re finished fucking, of course, and chat with her all you want. Take selfies on the lazy river. Get drunk with her on the phone. Fucking Skype, for all I care. Spend the whole day with Bebe, but please, Grace. Do it from here. It’s not time to go home yet.” She’s silent for a few moments and I have a little wave of panic. “Unless you really don’t want to spend the weekend with me?”
“No,” she says immediately. “That’s not it at all.”
I flip her over, straddle her ass, my hard cock pressed against the slit of her pussy, and I lean into her neck and give her a small bite that makes her buck underneath me. “Then it’s settled. You stay here. I fuck you until you’re sore. Then I’ll share you with Bebe and the rest of the Filthy Blue Birds.” She turns her head and I immediately go in for a kiss. “Is that a deal, sweets?”
“I don’t have any clothes. You only got me that one outfit for yesterday.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. This is a clothes-free zone. You have be naked. Sorry, that’s just how it is.”
“Since when?” she squeals. “What about Felicity?”
“Yeah, well, she’s staying at the parents’ pool house with Conner, I think.”
“Are they dating?”
“Fuck, no!” I say a little too quickly. “Fuck. No. They’re working on a project for me. Together. That’s all. Now let’s get back to our little deal where I get to fuck you sore today.”
Even though her head is tilted to the side and her long blonde hair is spilling over, practically covering it, I see her smile.
“You’re mine,” I growl into her ear. “Say it,” I insist.
All her pretenses are over. All the feigned indifference is gone now. She turns towards me so I can see her smile full on. “I’m all yours.”
I lean down and touch my lips to hers, just the slightest touch. “Forever. Say it. Even if it’s an abstract concept. It’s the right thing to say right now and I need to hear it.”
She bites her lip and my heart is pounding inside my chest with doubts. These doubts double the longer she hesitates. Because I’ve never felt afraid that a woman would reject me and I am, in this moment, very, very afraid. My heart is responding with desperation. “Say it,” I urge again.
“Forever.” The word comes out like a sigh. Or a whisper.
I hug her close and lean into her ear. “Thank you.”
WE FUCK wildly for hours. We stay naked the entire day and it’s well into the fading light of late afternoon before we drag ourselves up and start to think about food. Well, I think about food. Grace is on my laptop, logged in with her Twitter friends while simultaneously chatting with Bebe on my phone. I’m thrilled that she ignored Bebe all day in favor of sex with me, but Bebe is the best friend. Her acceptance is critical and tonight is the first step in gaining that stamp of approval.