Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
SHELBY
March 2013
Things moved quickly once Kendra and I got back from Vegas. I was highly motivated to get my new life in order, so within the week I went to meet with David about putting the house on the market. As I’d expected, Marion got wind of the reason for my visit and was up in arms about it. “How could you possibly sell Brody’s childhood home?”
“He’s a sophomore in college, Marion. He’s barely home now as it is, and he wants to get an apartment downtown for the summer when he starts his internship with David.”
She pursed her lips tightly and shook her head. “You know, I spent a lot of time, and we spent a lot of money making that house a beautiful home for the three of you. And to think that you can just leave that easily? What about Aristotle? What about the memories?”
That was my in. “That’s exactly why. The memories. It’s much too painful to be in that house, everything reminds me of him. I just can’t do it anymore.” None of it was a lie, it just wasn’t painful in quite the way she was thinking.
Marion finally agreed, but the whole conversation upset her so much that she took a pill and went to bed. David opened a bottle of wine and invited me into his office to continue the conversation. He pulled a folder out of his file cabinet and glanced at its contents.
“Ari’s life insurance paid out in August, right?”
I nodded.
“And you’ll have ten years to withdraw his retirement funds as beneficiary, so we don’t have to worry about that right now.”
David had set everything up, life insurance and IRAs, as well as living trusts for us before Brody was born. It made dealing with money after Ari’s death virtually seamless. Money handling and planning for our future were never Ari’s strong suit, preferring instead to live in the present, like Peter Pan in a perpetual Neverland where things are just magically handled. In the real world, David dealt with all the big life financial things, and I was responsible for all the household bills and expenses. I was grateful that I didn’t have to go digging much through Ari’s personal financials, though. God knows what I might have discovered.
He sat at the desk and opened his laptop. “Let’s look at the comps and see what the house is going to be worth. Then you’ll know between that and the life insurance money, what you’re looking at as a budget for the new house.” Leave it to David to completely leave emotion out of it and get right down to business. I appreciated that.
“Actually, I don’t want any money from the sale of the house,” I said.
He looked up at me, confused.
“I know you and Marion bought the house, and I know how much money you’ve spent over the years. I want you to keep the money.”
David pinched his eyebrows and looked down at the desk. “I hope you don’t have the impression that you are beholden to us. That was never our intention. We were in a position to help you out, so we did. And we were happy to do it.”
“I know. And I don’t feel beholden. It’s just time for me to do it on my own. And I can. I don’t need a big place since it’s just me. My car is paid off and I have a good job. I will be just fine.”
David nodded his head and smiled. “I know you will be, Shelby. And I understand how you might appreciate this opportunity to start fresh. You were so young when you started your family.” He closed his laptop and folded his hands in front of him. “I will insist, however, that you let me continue to support Brody’s education.”
“Deal.” I warmed with gratitude and affection for this magnanimous man.
The house sold in less than a week. We had agreed to a quick closing, so I took some time off to focus on packing and arranging an estate sale for the contents of the house I wouldn’t be taking with me. Which was nearly all of it. While Marion was busy arguing my getting rid of “perfectly lovely things,” David insisted that I should keep the proceeds of the sale. I decided the proceeds would be well served as donations to the Mercer-Watts Foundation and the Aspire Cosmetology and Barbering Academy.
The only things I’d be moving besides my clothes and personal things would be my books, my plants, and my beloved vanity.
What I was dreading the most was unearthing memories contained in photos. I pulled out our wedding album without looking inside and put it in a large tote. Every picture of Ari, or of Ari and me went inside. Intent on keeping Brody’s baby and childhood albums, I took out any pictures that included Ari putting them in the box, planning to explain the reason why to him when he was older. I’d asked Kendra to store the tote for me at her place since I wanted to save these things for Brody, but I could not stand the thought of them in my new house.
Soon I was inhaling and exhaling deeply in my very own three bedroom, one and a half bath bungalow in Tosa Falls. The difference in the energy of the space compared to the other house was staggering, and I wished I’d had the courage to move months earlier.
It was only a few blocks from Aspire, but the proximity to work hadn’t been the main selling point for me. It was the enclosed sun porch that spread the entire width of the front of the house. The southern exposure wouldn’t have the sun blasting me in the morning or late afternoon, only bless me with plenty of wonderful natural light. I decided I just needed to find a lovely vintage inspired sofa and it would make a perfect spot for reading. My new house was comically empty on move in day as Kendra, Gary and I accomplished everything in a few trips. I had perfectly timed the arrival of my new bed frame and mattress, so I’d at least have that for the first night.
The following night, I would be driving to Chicago to meet up with Jake.
We’d texted often and had spoken on the phone a few times a week. It was a pleasant distraction from the chaos of the move. It had also been effective at getting me past my embarrassment over what had happened in Vegas.
With my new start, even as sparse as it was, I was feeling much more settled. I may not have been ready that night in the Hard Rock Hotel, but I felt quite confident that I would be this time.
I’d often let myself delve into memory and fantasy regarding everything that happened up until my breakdown. All the little intimate moments leading up to going to his room. And once we were there; how his hands had felt. How his lips tasted. The sounds he made. The way he said my name.
Every so often I’d get a flash of two figures in white hotel robes tangled up together on the bed, one holding the other in his arms while gently stroking her hair. I could not seem toreconcile that one of those people had been me. I feel like I left my body during that time, unable to comprehend how someone who hardly knew me could possibly be so tender and compassionate. How a man could so easily move beyond his need in the moment to tend to mine. It was completely foreign and incomprehensible. It was much easier to spool up that memory into a ball and tuck it away in a corner.
Jake said he’d be working until around seven that Friday and I really didn’t want to deal with Chicago rush hour. I decided I’d leave my house around seven thirty to make it there a little after nine. I was fine to not make any plans for that night assuming there was only one thing we’d be doing anyway. He’d asked me to pack a nice dress for the next night and I got the impression he really appreciated me in full pinup regalia.
Halfway to Chicago it started to rain. I never loved driving at night, much less in a semi unfamiliar city, and the addition of the rain was adding to my stress. I decided to try and relax myself by indulging in a little fantasizing about Jake. “Sweet Nothing” by Calvin Harris and Florence Welch came on my shuffled playlist and my brain flashed with strobe images of Jake and me in his hotel room in time with the music.
That magical movie kiss, my hands in his hair. His hands around my waist and splaying across my back. Him coming up behind me, hot breath on my skin as his tongue traced up my neck. How his eyes flashed so hungry and wild as I straddled him.
The next verse, I began to imagine what it would be like when I got to his room that night. How he might open the door and grab me by the wrist to drag me inside. No words would be spoken, our mouths too eager to do other things. How he might push me up against the wall grabbing my arms to hold them above my head with one hand as he tore open my shirt with the other. His greedy mouth licking and nibbling, greeting every new bare inch of my skin the second it was exposed.
Him deftly taking off his belt with one hand, pulling it out of the last loop with a snap…
The realization of my heart pounding and my chest heaving thrust me into the present moment. My knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as my train of thought thankfully came to an end just before Jake’s face became someone else’s. Memory and fantasy were converging. Past and future. I pushed it all aside and concentrated instead on my upcoming exit.
I decided there was a special place in hell for the person who thought it a good idea to design an Upper and a Lower Wacker Avenue. Navigating them always seemed like driving in an MC Escher drawing. I finally made it to the hotel, grateful for the valet parking and finally being relieved of my car.
I made my way through the lobby and found the restroom. Locking the door of the stall, I opened my overnight bag and pulled out the cleansing wipes I’d brought. The swampy state of my nethers after that harrowing drive would simply not do at all. I took off my clothes, cleaned myself up as thoroughly as I could, and put my trench coat back on. Trench coat and heels and nothing else. Yes, I know— it’s a move so very cliché, like cinema seduction 101, but honestly, what man wouldn’t appreciate it?
I surprised myself by keeping steady as I rode the elevator up, and only needing a few deep breaths as I walked down the hall toward room 312.
I knocked on the door, trying to keep myself from devolving into tremors as I heard footsteps coming toward me. The door opened and the second Jake and I saw each other we started laughing. There he was in nothing but a robe, and me in nothing but a trench coat, my sexy caper much less subtle than his. We both looked each other up and down acknowledging the very little material standing between us and nakedness.
He stood aside as he let me into the room.
“How was the drive? The weather looks pretty nasty out there.”
“Jake?”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t want to talk about the weather.” I started to undo the belt on my coat, and he came toward me in a rush of movement. I was still on edge from my drive and at the thought of seeing him, I was happy to have him take the wheel.
He parted my coat as his hands made their way to my bare waist and drew me to him. His eyes met mine with a fiery intensity and he tilted his head down to kiss me. He smelled so clean and fresh, the signature “Jake” scent nowhere to be found. But I liked this too.
His hands caressed my skin as he slowly slid my coat off my shoulders. He was very much in command of his desire, and it was throwing me. Did he think I was so fragile after what happened in Vegas? His fingers tangled into my hair, and he grabbed a handful to tilt my head to the side so he could devour my neck. It wasn’t aggressive or painful, just enough of a claiming to reassure me he didn’t think me too precious or breakable. After my mini freakout in the car, I was grateful for his restraint, though too. I nearly giggled at my horny Goldilocks list of demands. Not too soft. Not too hard. Sex me up juuust right.
Jake pulled his face away to consider me. “What?”
I realized I was smiling. “Nothing. Just happy to be here.”
“I’m happy you’re here, too. Very happy.” He opened his robe.
I smiled wider. “Yes, I can see that.”
I mimicked having my hands bound together. “I almost brought silk scarves for you to tie me up with.”
“Is that right?” He tilted his head with curiosity and smiled.
“You know, a little insurance policy so I won’t slap you again.”
“But you’re not going to slap me again, are you?” His grin turning mischievous.
I shook my head.
“That’s my good g?—”
Without thinking, my hand flew to cover his mouth before the word escaped. “Don’t call me that,” I spat. “Never call me that.”
His eyes wide with shock, he gently removed my hand from his mouth. “Okay. Noted.”
I recoiled with shame at my outburst. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh. I just don’t like being called that at all.” It didn’t sound like something Jake said regularly, maybe he just got caught up in the little game he thought we were playing.
I liked games once upon a time.
I didn’t anymore.
When you don’t know the rules or are even asked if you want to play at all, it’s no fun.
“I understand.” He ran his thumb tenderly over my cheek. “Anything else I should know?”
I was getting frustrated with where this was going. It was becoming less a sexy rendezvous and more of a therapy session. I just wanted to get carried away and feel beautiful and feel pleasure, and instead he was trying to get into my head. I get that he was trying to be respectful, but it was pulling me out of the moment.
I knew how to pull us both back in.
I wrapped my fingers around his erection and licked my lips. I planted kisses down his neck, and across his collarbone. Licked my way down his chest and stomach, and as gracefully as I could, I got down on my knees. Grasping him fully in my fist, I looked up at his face which had become filled with wonder. The conversation was officially over.
I swirled my tongue around his tip. Jake hissed and gently fingered a lock of hair on the side of my face. I wrapped my lips around him and took him greedily into my mouth. He stroked my cheek as he exhaled my name, “Shelby.”
“That’s it, baby. Take it all.”
“God, I love fucking that pretty mouth of yours.”
I shuddered at the dark, intrusive voice in my head. I hoped I’d be able to move past it if I just concentrated harder on what I was doing.
“That’s right, suck my cock, you filthy, fucking whore.”
“Mmm, yeah. Swallow every last drop. You’re such a little slut for my cum, aren’t you?”
Tears pricked at the back of my eyes and my heart started to hammer violently. I didn’t want to bow to my first instinct and bolt. I didn’t want to collapse into a mess again.
Jake put his hands in my hair, and I froze. At any second he will grip the back of my head. Firmly, with fingers splayed. Or he’d grab a handful of hair at the scalp and hold fast. And I’d have no choice but to take it. Gag on it. Choke on it. Like a good girl and a filthy whore.
A memory flashed of little Brody crying because he didn’t understand why Mommy got to eat popsicles all day sometimes when he could only have one. But when my throat was bruised, raw and swollen, and every swallow was razor blades, it was the only thing that helped.
I desperately needed to feel into the present moment. To what was actually happening and not what I was conflating with what had happened in the past.
Okay. Deep Breath.
Five things I could see. A small stain in the shape of Florida on the grey hotel carpet. My trench coat in a heap on the floor a few feet away. The loops of soft white terrycloth on the edge of Jake’s robe. The abstract swirl pattern of hair on his thigh. The rippling muscles in his stomach tensing and relaxing.
Four things I could touch . The plushy friction of the carpet against my knees. The soft skin on the back of Jake’s knee. The smooth, satiny heat of him in my hand. My poor, needy kitty, who, with an ebb of warm, liquid silk and a stab of deep ache, let me know how jealous she was of my mouth.
Three things I could hear . The hotel room’s obnoxious HVAC unit. The sound of footsteps in the hall. Jake’s intense but measured breathing.
Two things I could smell . Jake’s hotel soap clean scent and the hint of a pheromone laced sweet muskiness that was replacing it as he began to sweat.
One thing I could taste . Well.
My breathing was becoming calmer as I became more present.
I was able to pay much closer attention.
Jake’s hands threaded tenderly through my hair, combing ever so gently, then twirling a strand around his index finger.His hips stayed steady.
I was in control.
I looked up at his face. One moment he was looking up at the ceiling, lost in sensation. The next he was looking down at me. His jaw tense, his eyes burning, his expression full of lust and white-hot desire, but there was not one hint of darkness.
Only reverence. Adoration. Appreciation. Awe.
I tilted my head to meet his hand as it came toward my cheek. I felt safe enough to continue my oral assignment with new-found fervor. I felt so cared for. Cherished. This tenderness was all I’d ever wanted from Ari. Any hint of it at all amongst the frenzy would have sustained me, but it never came. I could feel the tears forming again, and I was powerless to stop them.
Jake stroked down my face toward my jaw and put slight pressure under my chin with his finger—a gentle beckoning to draw me away from what I was doing. He sank down on the floor with me and kissed my tears as they fell.
“Shelby,” he whispered. “What can I do? Tell me what you need.”
The tears were flowing freely then. Another gesture I’d always craved, but never got. Tell me what you need. I was on the verge of breaking apart again.
I could just tell him. I wouldn’t have to beg.
But I couldn’t speak. Instead, I held the lapels of Jake’s robe and kissed him hard. He mirrored my intensity, drawing us both up onto our knees, bodies pressed tightly together.
He broke the kiss to stand, holding onto my hands to help me up. I gasped in delighted shock as he scooped me up in his arms and carried me toward the bed, placing me gently down with my head on the pillows. Jake took off his robe and crawled to kneel above me, taking in every inch of my body with his eyes. Here was this voraciously hungry man, but somehow, even with his plate now in front of him, he was able to take his time and appreciate and admire the presentation.
He traced my skin with fingertips so gentle, I prickled with goosebumps and began to tremble. His fingers moved in lines and swirls, and I realized he was tracing the edges of my tattoos.
“So beautiful,” he whispered.
I melted into the bed. Into his touch. He lowered his head onto me and made his way down my body. Taking his time, taking pieces of me into his mouth at regular intervals. I gasped and arched into him as he found erogenous zones I never knew I had. His fingers pressing into my flesh, his teeth gently scraping across the skin between my ribs. He was devouring me, but in an achingly tender way.
I soon became impatient and began writhing my body under his, signaling my need for him to go lower.
With my arousal acting as a homing beacon, he finally reached his destination between my thighs. He teased me, lapping with his tongue a few times, he then zeroed in on my clit and latched on. His mouth sucking and pulsing gently at first, then, as he slowly increased his speed and intensity, I increased the intensity with which my hands fisted the sheets. I raised my ass higher and instinctively he put a hand under me to hold me at this preferred angle.
I had a flash of familiar fear that it would all be taken away any second, just as I’d be ready to come. I put my hand on the back of Jake’s head. I could tell him what I needed.
“Don’t stop, Jake. Please don’t stop.”
And he didn’t. Overloaded with need and greed, I silently pleaded for him to introduce his fingers into the mix. Then, as if I were able to transmit my thoughts directly through my clit, he did just that. As he expertly curled them into a “come hither” that would no doubt make me come harder, I braced my hands against the headboard to push my body harder into the deliciously filthy fray.
This man didn’t just eat pussy—he worshiped it.
Just as the sounds of gospel choirs and visions of angels weeping nearly overtook me, I looked down and met Jake’s wolfish eyes. The intensity of the intimacy jolted through us both, and he managed a moan, even with his mouth full. The salacious sound combined with subtle vibration sent a tremor through my whole body and toppled me over the edge into ecstasy.
I screwed my eyes shut and my head tilted back unnaturally far as if on a hinge. My mouth dropped open and I emitted a series of nearly inhuman squeaks, some of which were a frequency I’d imagined only audible to animals.
A breathy chuckle came out of Jake's mouth against my overly sensitive nerves and I spasmed and wriggled up toward the head of the bed.
As I came down from my peak, he propped himself up on one arm. Looking me straight in the eye, he wiped his mouth with the inside of his hand, then ran his tongue across his fingers before putting two in his mouth to suck them clean. I stared in wonder at the sexiest thing I’d ever seen, and my stomach lurched with the realization the object of my teenage obsession had just licked my marrow off his fingers.
Jake deftly rolled on his condom and positioned himself above me with the familiar pause I’d come to know as he subtly checked in. I nodded. The time of tears was long over.
He guided himself inside me swiftly and fully. The poor man had waited so long for his turn, and I wanted him to have it. I arched up to meet his every thrust, letting him know he didn’t have to hold back for me. We clawed and scraped, digging our fingers into each other in a desperate attempt to get closer. I traced my tongue across his shoulder to taste the saltiness of his skin. The flesh felt so good in my mouth I dared to squeeze my teeth together. I felt his fingers press deeper into me and a rumbling moan escaped his mouth.
Something told me to push a little further. I found the sensitive place where his shoulder met his neck and sank my teeth in. Firmly, but not nearly hard enough to break the skin. He flinched and shuddered, but then sank into the sensation with another moan.
I raised my legs higher to invite him in deeper and I caught up to his rhythm with my hips. He pushed his shoulder closer to my mouth and growled softly, “Harder, Shelby. Bite me harder.”
I increased the pressure of my jaw.
Sucking saliva through his teeth, the pace of his thrusts became frenetic. “God, Shelby. Fuck!”Jake tensed, shook, and shuddered his earthquake release. Once his convulsions had stopped, he surrendered his weight onto me and panted heavily into my neck.
He likes to be bitten . I smiled as I filed away that bit of information, wondering what other interesting things he liked.