Chapter Fourteen
Jet
With Christmas only a few days away, the mood in Appleton Falls was festive on overdrive.
People carried bulging bags with presents peeking out of the top, and harried, last-minute shoppers rushed about with rolls of wrapping paper.
The speakers in the square played all the holiday favorites, and I found myself singing along with the Dreidel song as Emerson and I passed by Main Street.
Emerson snickered. “How do you know that?”
“I learned it in school, and I’ve gone to Connor’s holiday festivals—the kids sing it too. Some things stick with you.”
“You and Harte wanna come to my place tonight?” Emerson asked.
“It’s Hanukkah, and my mom is in from the city.
She’s gonna make her famous latkes.” He turned onto the highway extension that would take us past the shopping center.
We liked to cruise by to make sure the shop owners weren’t having problems. “I’m gonna invite the whole squad. It’s really just a drop-in thing.”
“Hanukkah? Wait a sec. Why didn’t I know you’re Jewish?” We’d been partners and friends for the last year and a half, and he’d never said anything.
“You never asked.” He shrugged. “I mean, I know up here it’s all Christmasy all the time, and Hanukkah isn’t that big a deal if you don’t have kids.
” He grinned. “But I do love me my mom’s latkes.
She made some for the first night for my cousin and sprang it on me this morning that she was taking the train up to make me dinner. ”
“Wow, that’s a long ride just for a meal.”
“You don’t know my mother. She’s as overprotective as they come. I had to downplay the whole shooting thing because she wanted to rush up here and take care of me.”
“Sure. We’d love to come.”
That night, we found a spot on Emerson’s street. He lived in a little rental house that stood out mainly as being one of the few not to have any Christmas decorations or lights. Music sounded from inside, and I rang the bell. Emerson opened the door with a beer in hand.
“Hi, come on in.”
The air smelled like fried potatoes and something else rich, meaty, and delicious. I sniffed. “Mmm. Whatever you’re cooking, I want some.”
“I told you, my mom’s here. Come to the kitchen and meet her.”
Clarke, Miller, and Murphy were already there with their wives, and we waved to them. It was my first public appearance with Harte, and he murmured, “You okay?”
I nodded. “I’m great. Hey, everyone. This is Harte McKinney. You might remember him from the Brooklyn Kings.”
Their eyes bugged out.
“Harte McKinney? Wow.”
“No shit. That’s your boyfriend, Jet? Awesome.”
“Damn, I watched you make that touchdown pass in the Super Bowl you guys won three years ago. Can’t believe you’re here.”
I watched as Harte mingled with everyone, with absolutely no hesitation on their part to accept him.
“They’re a good group,” Emerson said, as if reading my thoughts. “I told you it’d be fine. Now come meet my mom.”
I followed him to the kitchen, where a small, dark-haired woman stood over a sizzling frying pan.
“Ma. This is my best friend and partner, Jet. This is my mom, Rachel.”
She set the spatula down, and to my surprise, hugged me fiercely.
“Thank you for being so good to Emerson. He told me how you made sure he was okay after the shooting.” She put a hand to her heart.
“I was so worried about him. Ever since he decided to move so far and I don’t see him all the time, I’m so concerned, so I’m glad to see he’s got good friends to count on. ”
“Ma, come on.” Cheeks bright red, Emerson rolled his eyes. You’re embarrassing Jet.”
Enjoying how cute he was, I patted his back. “Aw, I’ll make sure he’s okay. Don’t worry, Mrs. Kane.”
She paled. “It’s Klein. I’m divorced. Just call me Rachel.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I darted a glance to Emerson, who stood with a stoic face. Wrapped up in my own life, we’d never discussed his family, and I didn’t even know his parents were divorced. Uncomfortable silence rose between us, and I rushed to fill it. “Something smells delicious.”
“Have some latkes. I made applesauce, and there’s some brisket on the platter on the table.”
“Em’s been telling me all day about your cooking. I can’t wait to taste everything.”
“Let me get you some.” She busied herself filling up a dinner-sized plate with the latkes and meat.
I tasted it and groaned with pleasure. “My God, this is delicious.”
Harte poked his head into the kitchen. “I thought I heard your voice.” Emerson had slipped away, and I introduced Harte to Rachel.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Here. Have something to eat.” She gave him some food and shooed us out. “Go have fun with your friends. I just have to finish this batch of latkes, and I’m going to make a cup of tea and go relax in my room.”
We joined the others. Starr and his latest lady had appeared, as well as Gleason. He and I had been cool but cordial.
“Jet, how’s it goin’?” Starr called out, and focused on Harte. That icy blue gaze blew wide. “Harte McKinney? From the Brooklyn Kings?”
“Last time I checked,” Harte responded smoothly. “Nice to meet you.”
Starr’s eyes shifted from Harte to me. “You two?”
When I nodded, his lips kicked up in a grin. “Good for you, Jet.”
“Jesus Christ, Starr,” Emerson snapped, and yet again, I couldn’t help wondering why he and Starr couldn’t put their high school days behind them. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Starr ignored him, sliding his arm tighter around his date’s waist. She cast an adoring look up at him.
“Dommy, I haveta get home soon. I told my dad I’d be home by ten.”
“Yeah, Dommy.” Emerson snickered. “You don’t want to get in trouble with Daddy. Is it a school night for you?” He directed that to Starr’s date, who, unaware of the tension between Emerson and Starr, chattered on.
“Yeah. I’ve got an English Lit class at nine, and the professor is a beast if we’re even a minute late.”
“Oh, that’s awful. Are you a senior?”
“No, a junior.”
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing, while Starr’s face turned almost purple with rage.
“C’mon, Desiree, let’s go. Happy Hanukkah, Emmy.”
“Shalom to you too,” Emerson called out.
“What’s the deal with Em and that guy?” Harte asked on the drive home. We were going to spend the night at Harte’s and wrap presents. “It was like two lions circling and smacking each other in the face.”
“I dunno, really. The two of them have some history from when they were younger—they went to the same high school.”
Harte’s brows drew together. “And they both wound up here? In Appleton Falls? Seems weirdly coincidental, don’t you think?”
I raised a shoulder as I pulled into Harte’s driveway. “Maybe. Who knows? I’m kinda more interested in you and me, though.”
We hurried through the snow that had begun to fall heavier and steadier and closed the door to the whistling wind. Harte braced his powerful arms on either side of me and took my mouth in a hard, possessive kiss that turned my bones to water.
“Looks like we’re in for a storm, huh?” He licked my neck, and I hummed.
“Mmm-hmm. And guess who’s not working tomorrow?”
“Yeah? Whatever will we do all night…and day?”
He teased his tongue in my ear and nipped at the lobe. A full-body shudder rolled through me, and I clasped my hand around his neck. My dick thrust out from my sweats, and Harte reached under the band and tugged. I ached for him, desperate and needy.
“Fuck me. Right now. Please.”
Lust flared in Harte’s eyes. “Yeah? You want my dick in you?”
I hadn’t had him inside me since that first time, but tonight I craved to be filled.
“Yeah, need it. Stuff me full with that thick cock. Wreck my ass. I want it bad.”
“Jesus,” Harte breathed, and his tongue swept out to lick his lips.
“Come on.” I grabbed his hand, and we practically ran to the bedroom and ripped off our clothes. Naked and fully aroused, we held on to each other and rolled on the bed. Harte’s cock brushed my stomach, smearing precome. I rolled and rose on all fours.
“Oh God, you’re so perfect,” Harte groaned, and rubbed his erection between the globes of my ass. My hole quivered, and I widened my knees.
“Do it already.”
“Uh-uh,” Harte crooned and spread me open. “I’m gonna take my time with you.” He licked the rim and pushed his tongue past the tight muscled ring, thrusting in and out, while fondling my swollen nuts. “I’ve wanted to do this from that first time. Love how you taste.”
Looked like Harte had embraced his bisexual side completely, and I was all for it.
I worked my aching cock, and the slick sounds of my strokes, coupled with Harte’s rough stubble scraping my thighs, sent me spinning into a black hole of passion and desire.
He replaced his mouth with his equally talented fingers and played me, stretching me wide.
“Ahhh, goddammit, Harte, come on,” I cried out, my hand flashing on my own shaft, faster and faster. The blunt, smooth head of Harte’s dick sank into my ass, and he pumped, hard and deep.
“Fuck, you’re like fire burning me alive.” Harte held me at the waist and rolled his hips.
I twisted the sheets in my hands as Harte continued to pound into me, his thick cock dragging in and out of my quaking body. Sweat ran in rivulets from every pore of my body, dripping in my eyes.
“Harte, I can’t…” I moaned, and he pressed his hand into the dip of my back and whispered in my ear, “Yeah, you can.” He bit my lobe and nibbled on my neck, driving in as far as he could. “Now.”
I blew apart, while he filled me with his hot come. I felt every throbbing pulse of his dick as he climaxed.
We collapsed on the bed, Harte still buried inside me.
“I love you,” I murmured. “But you’re crushing me, you big lug.”
Harte laughed and slowly withdrew, and a trickle ran down my leg. “You ruined my bed. We have to do laundry or sleep in the guest room.”
He wiped off with the sheet while I attempted to gather my wits. I lay there, panting. “I can’t move. Or think.”