Chapter Thirteen #2
His fingers hook inside of me and rub at the back of my clit.
While his other hand grips my thigh hard enough to leave marks.
Pressure builds and builds inside of me.
It’s bright and high and blinds me to the world.
There’s just me and him and this moment between us.
His head between my legs and his mouth on my cunt.
The pad of his small finger strokes farther and farther back.
Teasing that hole and lighting every nerve in the vicinity.
No idea when my eyelids close tight and mouth falls open.
The tension is exquisite as he sucks on my clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue.
My whole body shakes right down to the bones.
And when it hits, he has me strung out, strewn across the floor.
Trying to hold on as the orgasm hits me.
It’s as if my skin is a size too small and then me and all my parts are thrown across the heavens.
The world is infinite but also just me and him.
Neither the internet nor the rest of my worries matter now. There’s so much beauty to him. His mouth is wet and his eyes dark while he watches me come. His gaze fixed and fascinated on my face and body.
It takes me a minute to catch my breath and put my pieces back together. When I finally manage the feat, he gives me a satisfied grin. And I wouldn’t normally be down for such proprietary looks. But he’s got me, and I maybe don’t mind him knowing. Which is just as well since I suck at hiding it.
Regardless of the abundance of beds and couches in the house, Nash and I lay on the closet floor talking for an hour or so. And there was no particular topic of conversation. We were just happy hanging out together.
Angus is upright and drying dishes when I head back to Grandma’s.
“That nose looks sore,” I say, as I shut the kitchen door.
He grimaces. “It wouldn’t be the first time we tried to pound some sense into each other. You got any siblings?”
“Only child.”
“Sounds peaceful.”
“Yeah. It was also lonely sometimes. But I made friends with other kids from the neighborhood.”
Seeing different, more serious expressions on such an otherwise familiar face is throwing me.
Though there are definite differences here and there.
Say, the small scar dissecting his eyebrow and the less-tanned color of his skin.
Nash has been out in the sun exploring the town.
Angus, meanwhile, was probably sleeping most days and performing at night.
There were a pair of identical twins in middle grade.
Their parents and the school made a point of putting them in separate classes.
I remember how upset they were about it.
It must be an intense and unique kind of relationship to have with somebody.
To have shared a womb and be a veritable mirror of each other.
“Guess who won eight dollars and a quarter at this week’s poker session?” singsongs Grandma as she comes in victoriously through the front door.
Angus grins. “That’ll teach ’em to bet against you.”
“I hope not, I want to win again next week.” She places a kiss on my cheek. “How are you, Dear?”
“Good,” is all I say. There’s no need to go into the restorative powers of oral sex, cuddling on a hardwood floor, and talking nonsense for a while.
She frowns. “Saw a photographer lurking outside. I suppose it was bound to happen.”
“I walked over along the river,” I say. “But they got shots of us in town earlier.”
“And so it begins. Best brace yourself and be of stout heart, my dear.” She pours the three of us glasses of homemade lemonade.
Taking a sip is sort of like being smacked in the face by vitamin C.
Grandma’s lemon tree out back has an abundance of fruit this year.
“Have you talked to your brother again?” she asks.
“I want to pick my time.” Angus shakes his head and sets down the kitchen towel. “I can see why he decided to invest in the area. This place is nice. Very green.”
Grandma takes a seat at the table and I do the same. “Thunder” Road by Bruce Springsteen is on the record player. It’s a favorite from Grandma’s collection of 70’s rock. Mom was never big on music. She preferred to have the news channel on as background noise.
And there’s something about Angus’s choice of word investing. I don’t like it. I clear my throat and say, “He seems keen on the idea of living in The Bend.”
“Guess time will tell,” answers Angus with a shrug.
“Mom moved us around a lot when we were growing up. She loved seeing new places and starting new jobs. Things tended to lose their shine for her after a while. Then she was driving Nash all over the country to perform at open mics and fairs and rodeos, and basically anywhere that would have him.”
“When did you get into the business?” I ask.
“A few years later,” he says. “We both learned guitar at the same time. From a bluesman we lived next door to for a year or so in Louisiana. Mom loved green places too. I think he taught us just so we’d shut up and focus on something for a minute.”
Grandma smiles.
“I was busy playing football for a while. Then school finished and my knee was busted and Nash was putting his band together. It sounded like fun and the pay was better than anything else I could be doing.” He downs some lemonade and his eyes widen for a moment.
Like he just found out how strong the stuff is.
This drink is not for the faint of heart.
“Hadn’t seen much of him while I was in college and I missed the idiot. ”
I nod.
“And now he’s added this place to his real estate portfolio,” says Angus.
“I thought he just had the houses in Nashville and L.A.”
Grandma sets her glass down on the table. “Those are the two where he spends most of his time.”
“There’s also the loft in New York, a beach house in South Carolina, and an apartment in London.” He pauses and asks, “You’ve signed the nondisclosure agreement, right? Or should I be shutting up?”
“He hasn’t asked me to sign anything,” I say. Then Angus looks at me and I look at him and yeah. This conversation sure turned weird and awkward fast.
He turns to Grandma, and she does this graceful shrug of much nonchalance. As if everything is fine.
I, however, am feeling chalant as fuck. “He trusts me, I guess.”
“Sure,” he says, not sounding convinced in the least.
“It’s normal for you to want to protect your brother,” says Grandma.
“And that’s what usually happens?” I ask, in a nice and calm tone.
“You can make cash selling stories about him. People have done that in the past unfortunately.” He puts aside the glass of lemonade and braces his hands on the counter behind him.
And I don’t love the way he’s looking down at me from his lofty height.
Nash never makes me feel this way. Like he’s assessing me.
While I respect his need to guard his brother, being on the receiving end doesn’t feel great.
“June wouldn’t do that,” says Grandma.
He grunts. And it’s not the sound of him agreeing.
“Is that standard for all of his friends?” I ask. “Asking them to sign an NDA?”
“It can depend,” answers Angus. “Other people in the industry at around his level…not so much. They’re professionals and have just as much to lose privacy-wise.”
“Right.”
Laughter can be heard from outside as Charlie and Nash walk in the kitchen door. No idea what they’re talking about. However, Nash stops dead and surveys the scene with narrowed eyes.
“That’s not my beloved’s happy face,” he says, with a raised brow.
“It’s fine.” I give him a small smile. “Just learning about the legalities of knowing you.”
And Angus frowns his heart out. “She hasn’t signed an NDA.”
Nash’s face blanks. Which is telling. Though I’m not exactly sure what it’s saying.
“Is that an oversight or are you thinking with your dick or what?”
“Angus,” snaps Grandma. “You’re standing in my kitchen discussing something that involves my granddaughter. Watch your language.”
“Sorry,” he says. “But you don’t want a repeat of what happened with—”
“Think I’m old enough to decide these sorts of things for myself,” says Nash with a defensiveness to his tone. There’s the feeling he’d much rather brawl some more in the backyard with his brother than have this discussion.
“Situations and people change. We’ve seen it happen before,” continues Angus. “You don’t want another exclusive tell-all interview about what you do in bed or how you shouted something at her one time.”
Nash turns to me and says, “For the record, we were shouting at each other. And honestly, she was way louder than me. The woman had a remarkable lung capacity. Makes sense, with her being a singer.”
“It’s not funny,” snaps Angus.
“Trust me, brother. I am very much aware of that.”
“How long have you two even known each other?”
And all the while, Charlie observes this play out. Absolutely none of it seems to surprise him. Neither the animosity between the brothers nor the need for me to be legally-bound and gagged. The world of professional musicians and performers at high levels is a strange one. That’s for sure.
Angus takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. Visibly searching for calm. “If she wants to be with you, she’ll sign it no problem. This doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
“On the other hand, if he wants to be with her, he could try trusting her,” says Grandma.
And Nash hesitates. He fucking hesitates. Which is answer enough for me.
“Can you get your lawyer to send it to me, please?” I ask.
“June,” he says. But that’s all he says.
I give him my best forced smile. “Ask them to send it.”