You don't know...seriously this took me all week....
“Don’t let it go to your head.” I thought about denying it, but there didn’t seem to be much point. I’d said it, and he’d heard it, it was out there. It seemed kind of late to take it back now.
“I’ll try,” he smirks, pushing off from the wall and walking over to sit beside me on the bed, “but I’m not promising anything.” When Marc had been sitting in this same spot, it had felt comforting, like putting on your boyfriends warm, oversized sweater. With Jordan sitting in the same spot, it feels a lot more like waking up after a one night stand and searching through the ruin of your clothes for your underwear. My heart is beating just a little too fast and I press my hands to my thighs, feeling like a nervous teen on a first date.
Picking my hand up off of my thigh, Jordan holds it gently in his, palm up, and runs his thumb over the lines. He’s only ever done that one other time and I’m sure that’s on both of our minds as we sit alone, together, on the end of the bed.
“Do you think I should go after him?” I ask after a long moment of silence. It’s easier to ask about Marc than it is to talk about the giant pink Heffalump in the room.
“I’m not sure he’d want to see either one of us right now,” Jordan answers, the pad of his thumb pausing at the base of my ring finger, my empty ring finger. I nod. I’m not sure what I’d say to him anyway. “So...what do we do now?” It’s a heavily charged question and there are at least a half a dozen answers that immediately come to mind, but only one shoves all the other comebacks to the back of the bus and demands to be heard.
“This is the part where you tell me I haven’t just made an enormous mistake, that you’ve changed, that you’re ready to commit to just being with one person,” I say quietly but firmly. I should look up at him, should look into his eyes to see if he flinches, even a little bit but I’m not quite that brave.
“Do you think I want to lose you again, watch you making kissy face with some douche like Max? I hated that by the way,” he replies folding my hand over and putting it between both of his and holding it on his lap. “That’s why I came all this way tonight, fucking near breaking the sound barrier thinking you were with Max again.”
“You thought...you thought I was with Max? Now? Tonight?” I cough, leaning into him hard enough to make him sway.
“You did before,” he laughs, pushing back but not as hard. He’s always been careful of his size and strength, or at least since he pushed me off the jungle gym which is how I broke my arm. He was also the first to sign my cast and that was the last time, ever, that he pushed, pulled, or tugged me, at least physically.
“Yeah, well, that was a one off.” I almost say mistake, but I’m not sure that would be fair to him and I’ve been having second thoughts about that. Maybe if that hadn’t happened and Marc and I hadn’t fought then I wouldn’t be here now. Not that I’m sure what that means, exactly, yet.
“I still wish that when you decided to do that you’d chosen me instead.” I don’t know why his statement catches me by surprise but it does. I look over and up at him but he isn’t looking at me. He’s staring straight ahead and the smile he was just wearing is gone.
“No you don’t,” I whisper, staring down at me feet. I don’t remember when I changed back into the cowboy boots I’d been wearing on the plane. They make my feet look huge but they’re really comfortable. Maybe I should wear them on stage sometime.
“Yeah, actually, I do,” he replies, and I know he’s looking at me, waiting for me to know that he’s serious. I don’t need to see the sincerity in the limpid blue pools of his eyes or the hopeful quarter of a smile on his full lips to know that he does.
“That would have been a nightmare,” I reply, thinking of how Marc would have taken that. At least this way, whatever happens now, everything is out in the open.
“Or this could have all been over already,” Jordan gives my hand a squeeze and I finally gather the courage to look up at him. Reaching up, I trace the dimple in his chin and before laying my hand against his cheek. I remember doing this before, I know where it led and I can’t decide if that’s what I want right now.
“And what would that look like?” I ask, unable to keep my gaze off of his mouth. I want to kiss him, or maybe I want him to kiss me. I can’t decide.
“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, his voice low. I can already feel his body pressing against mine but he hasn’t let go of my hand yet. “You know me. I’m not much of a planner.” That makes me smile. No, no one would ever accuse Jordan of planning anything ahead of time. Except maybe Marc right about now.
“Maybe that’s something we should work on first,” I mutter, dropping my hand and my gaze from him at the same time. The logical part of my brain is telling me to get some space, not to rush into anything I might not be ready for, to think this through.
Jordan, however, keeps a good grip on my wrist as I try to pull it free.
“Jordan...,” she tugs her arm, trying to get up, trying to get free, but I have no intention of letting go. Not now. Not ever.
“I didn’t come all this way to catch up and hang out,” I tell her, knowing full well that as we sat here, side by side, she was thinking the same thing. I don’t know about her, but the visions that are playing in my head right now have never been far from my mind.
“Just because I have feelings for you, doesn’t mean we should jump into bed J boy,” she says quietly, but she’s staring at where my hand is wrapped around my wrist, she’s not looking at me, which means she’s lying or at least not telling the whole truth. She obviously has no idea what she’s done to me, what she’s doing to me. Using the grip I already have on her wrist, I pull her to me and she doesn’t resist. Putting her hand on my chest so she can feel how fast my heart is beating right now, my other hand tips her face up, forcing her to look at me. “You don’t have to mark your territory like some kind of rabid dog Jordan,” she adds, and I do think part of her means it, but the expression in her eyes is saying something entirely different.
“You know that song,” I begin, feeling my throat constrict just like it does every time I hear her sing it. “It was you and me and one hot summer, beading up with sweat all over each other,” I speak back the words she wrote and her eyes get wide. “Yeah, I know that’s about me...about us,” I add, stroking her cheek with my thumb. Damn but those electric blue eyes of hers’ have always been my undoing. “Do all those memories make it so hard to forget about me? Yeah they do,” I whisper, leaning in until my lips are almost touching hers. “It was you and me, it seemed to last forever, the way you taste, I still remember, the sounds you made,” I add, feeling tears actually spring to my eyes. “I do wish I had you back and you are the best I ever had.” A fine sort of trembling runs through my entire body as my lips hover over hers’. “If you want to wait for propriety’s sake, I’ll understand but I’m not gonna stand here and pretend like I don’t want you right now.”
Kens groans, but it’s not a sexual sound. It’s more a declaration of frustration and submission at the same time as she presses her mouth up against mine. It feels like a lightning bolt has just gone in the top of my head and right through my entire body. I’m rooted to the spot, shaking like a leaf and heated to the core. When her lips open and invite me in, when our tongues meet and touch in a dance that’s strange and familiar at the same time, I know there won’t be any going back, at least not for me.
Her arms slide around my waist and her hands slide up under my shirt and just the feel of her skin on mine, just that insignificant a touch has my engine revving at twelve thousand rpm’s. There’s no hiding how much I want her as she presses her body against mine and I don’t care. I walk her back to the bed until I feel her knees buckle and then we both fall down on the bed together.
Jesus I’d forgotten how small she felt underneath me, how fragile. When she presses her body up against mine I’m suddenly afraid of breaking her. I don’t remember feeling like this before but then last time Kens had sort of taken charge. Actually the thought of her one top of me, straddling me is pretty hot but then so is this. She looks up at me with those crazy eyes of hers’ and then pulls my mouth down to her neck.
“You smell fucking great,” I growl into the curve of her neck.
“Don’t lie, I haven’t had a shower. I was on stage for forty five minutes under hot lights, dancing,” she laughs, wrinkling her nose like she’s just thought about it. “Plus these are the clothes I wore to fly down here today so they’re not exactly...fresh,” she adds with chuckle that turns into a sigh as I press my lips against the thin skin just behind her ear. Maybe it’s all the years around mildewed hockey pads and rank man sweat but I’m sure I can still smell that jasmine soap she likes and the lavender scented shampoo. She smells just like I’ve always remembered her smelling, or maybe it’s just that it was hot that night and I like the smell of her that way.
“Mmmm I thought I caught a whiff of your mom’s meatloaf,” I whisper against the curve of her neck where it meets her shoulder. Her skin tastes slightly salty as I kiss her neck all the way down to her shoulder, tugging the neck of her shirt as far as it will allow me to and then, when it won’t go any further, I kneel over her, grab the neck of her shirt and start to rip it open.
“You’re such a caveman,” she giggles but doesn’t raise a hand to stop me and then, as I lower my mouth over the sweet, pink flesh of her nipple, her giggle turns into a gasp. I feel her fingers grabbing handfuls of my hair and I can’t help but smile, even with my mouth full because that’s more like the Kens I know. The next sound out of her mouth is a long, sort of high pitched, series of nonsensical sounds that I’m hoping suggests that I’m on the right track.
We were too young and everything was too new to take our time with this last time. I was in too big a rush to get to the main event. Now I want to taste, lick, nibble on every single millimetre of her flesh. I don’t want to miss anything. I also want to be the last person to touch and taste every part of her; it’s the competitive part of me.
Her back arches completely off of the bed when I open the button on her jeans and slide my hand inside and she lets out a strangled cry that makes my cock twitch. Her fingers dig into my scalp and I wince, feeling her tug on my hair. Maybe I should cut it if she’s going to keep doing that.
Letting her nipple escape from between my teeth, I kiss my way back up to her mouth and she greedily accepts my kiss as I sink two fingers deep, up inside of her. Christ she’s hot and wet.
I feel him unsnap my jeans and then his hand slides down the front of my panties and I’m gone. My mind goes blank. No, not blank, more like star filter or maybe like there’s bottle rockets going off in my brain. He goes right for the trigger, for the detonator without any hesitation. This is definitely not like last time. Last time he couldn’t have found my clit with a map, a compass and a flashlight. Hell, I could hardly find the thing myself, let alone guide him to it. Now, obviously he doesn’t need any help and he knows just what to do, how much pressure to use, just how to touch me to make writhe beneath him, to beg him for more and then, just as I think he’s going to bring me right away, he slides his hand lower and then shocks me even more by curling his fingers up inside me and hitting my g-spot after only one try.
“Holy fucking god damn mother fucking shit!” I’m dead from the neck up. My brain turns into a puddle of mush and it’s all I can do to hold onto his massive shoulders as my heels dig into the bed and my entire world focuses on the spot his fingers are expertly massaging. As unfair as it is, I can’t help thinking, just for a moment, that Marc never even looked for that spot, not even once. Oh he could make me cum a dozen other ways and it wasn’t that he couldn’t satisfy me, it’s just that it was never this easy for him. “Uh...uh...oh holy fuuuuuuuck!” My hips raise off of the bed and then slam down again as my entire body begins to quiver and shake. Jordan’s mouth covers mine and he drinks my moans, his mile wide shoulders pressing me down onto the bed, like he’s expecting me to float away like a bouquet of balloons.
“I’d forgotten just how dirty your little mouth gets,” he whispers as he kisses the corner of my mouth. “You’d think you’d grown up around a bunch of hockey players,” he adds before he covers my mouth with his again. With the Staal boys, Eric is definitely the most blessed in the lips department, but Jordan’s always come a close second. I can’t help comparing them, even though I try not to think about Marc as his younger brother’s tongue slides over mine and his fingers do things to me that make it almost impossible for me to breathe. “I bet I can make you do that again,” Jordan says, grinning down at me as his fingers again slide down towards my entrance. I shudder in anticipation. There are men who wish their dicks were as big as his two fingers put together.
“I have no doubt about that,” I reply, pressing down on his hand and then squeezing my eyes shut as he slides his fingers deep into me, “but what about you?”
“Don’t worry about me,” he whispers into my ear, working his long, thick fingers slowly in and out. “I uh...didn’t come prepared so uh...we’ll just worry about you.” I can’t help it. I laugh. I can’t imagine any of the Pens boys going anywhere without a month’s supply of condoms. Not with all the puck fucks and desperate attention whores in wedding gowns tossing themselves down in front of them like ceremonial offerings.
“Really?” I ask, pushing against his massive shoulders, so I can see if he’s just saying that so he can torture me some more or, even more Staal like, just to be funny.
“Yeah, well...I just came to stop you from being with Max.” He blushes, actually turns pink and turns his face away from mine. It’s so adorable that I decide not to make fun of him, though I will store that information for later use.
“Go down the hallway and ask Max some, I’m sure he has spares,” I direct him, giving him a little shove, which has no effect whatsoever on his tall, solid frame.
“Uh...don’t think that would be such a good idea,” he mumbles, rolling onto his side and glancing downwards. I follow his gaze down to the very obvious bulge in his pants. Oh yeah, that’s the other thing he has a step up on his elder sibling.
“Like Max hasn’t seen that before,” I grumble, pushing him as hard as I can towards the edge of the bed. It still has little, if any, effect, but my scooting up towards the head of the bed and struggling out of my jeans at the same time does. “That’s right, I’ll finish without you if you don’t hurry up,” I add, tossing my jeans onto the floor before hooking my thumbs into the waistband of my black boy shorts. “Well? Go on, or do you not want to....”
“Oh...oh god.” My argumentative little red head isn’t arguing much now with her hands planted against the headboard and her curvy little bottom bright red from the spanking, which she thoroughly enjoyed. Little minx. “Harder damn it! C’mon you Frog bastard. Fuck me harder!”
“Pas de problème,” I grin, raising my hand above her rosy little heinie and then bringing it down flat against her ass, making her yelp.
“I said fuck me not hit me you....oh...my...god,” she howls as I slam into her with renewed force, burying myself balls deep in her sweet, tight little pussy.
“Like that?” I ask, sliding my hand up her back to grab hold of one of her pony tails and tugging on it until she turns that cute little freckled face back to look at me.
“You can do better,” she taunts me, grinning impishly.
“I can,” I reply, raising my hand again only to have her narrow her green eyes at me, practically daring me to do it. I’m more than happy to oblige. “But I don’t want to hurt you ma petite.” I let go of her hair and stroke her neck, her shoulder.
“If you do...if you start to,” she purrs, her gaze raking over my chest and then up to my eyes, “then I’ll let you know.” God, this woman.
“Ah, ma petite.” My fingertips trail down to the small of her back and trace the tattoo of the pair of crossed drumsticks at the small of her back, “if you insist.” She presses back against me and I can’t help but groan. This woman is awesome. Grabbing hold of her waist, I slide nearly all the way out, looking down at my cock gleaming with her juices and then I drive it all the way back in, making her cry out. “Oui, c’es ça? You like that?” She bobs her head up and down but the only noise comes that comes out of her throat is a whimper. “Yeah you do, you like that,” I purr as I bury myself deep inside of her, feeling her body tightening around mine. “Shit you feel...so good.”
“Shut up and fuck me Max,” she purrs and I swear my cock swells and earns an inch in width.
“As my lady wishes,” I reply and, putting both hands around her waist, I start to slam into her, ramming my cock in and out of her hot, wet cunt as fast and as hard as I can. “Like that, Daze? Do you like it like that?” She nods again with her moist lips parted but with no sounds coming out save the occasional whimper. "Yeah I guess you do.”
Daze slams her fist into the headboard and says something unintelligible and drops her head down. Yeah, she likes it.
“Sorry, sorry to disturb you guys.”
I damn near jump out of my own fucking skin and for the second time tonight my second best feature shrinks and I let out a string of frustrated curse words.
“Tabernak Gronk, can’t you seem I’m fucking busy here!” I grab a handful of sheet and pull it over Daze. The big blonde goof has seen me naked a million times but that doesn’t mean she has to lose her dignity.
“Yeah, about that. I’m sorry man. You know I wouldn’t bust in if I wasn’t desperate.” Looking at him, his hair more messed up than usual, his lips more swollen than I’ve seen them in a while and sporting a boner the size of the Titanic, I’m willing to forgive, this once. It’s pretty obvious that he isn’t lying.
“What do you need?” I ask, diving under the sheet to tickle the giggling Daze. “Be fast mon ami. Can’ you see this woman needs a good fucking? I was giving it to her but you keep interrupting.”
“Don’t be gross. Daze...man, don’t tell me shit like that...ewww,” he replies averting his eyes and shaking his head. “I just...man, do you have some...you know, battle helmets?” I stare at him, shaking my head. Is the guy serious? “You know...goalies....raincoats...?”
“You mean these?” I ask, reaching over to the open box on the bedside table and pulling out a string of foil wrapped rubbers. “Coloured? Ribbed? What do you need mon ami? I’ve got it all.” Daze lets out another snort and wriggles in my arms under the sheet. “Only hurry up, I can’t hold out much longer. I have to fuck her. This one’s an animal with needs.”
“Have you got any...you know, big ones?” he asks, snapping the handful I toss towards him out of the air and looking down at them like he’s actually going to read the label.
“You sure you know how to use those Staalsy?” Daze giggles from beneath the sheet and Max laughs. I don’t. I’m so fucking nervous I can barely hold the string of rubbers Max tossed at me. I don’t answer her. Not that her question needed an answer. Normally I’d laugh, or at least if that comment had been at someone else’s expense I probably would have. Right now I’m not sure that I could laugh. Right now, as I walk back towards Kensey’s room I’m not sure I’m going to be able to stop my hands from shaking long enough to actually get one of the wrappers open.
“I got one...some,” I mumble as I open the door and close and lock it behind me. There’s no answer. In fact, there isn’t a single sound that answers my entry into the room. Looking up, I realize that the bed is empty. In fact the whole room seems empty and there’s no sign of her, except for her jeans on the floor beside the bed and Kensey’s lacy black panties which are artfully draped over the table lamp beside the bed. “Kens?”
I turn towards the sound of her voice to see the bathroom door sitting just ajar, steam licking the floor. Breathing a sort of sigh of relief, I rip a couple of the foil packets off the row with my teeth and toss the rest onto the bed as I walk by. My shirt follows and as I push the bathroom door open, I’m already unbuckling my jeans.
“Getting clean for me?” I ask as I step out of my jeans and leave them on the bath mat. Kens grins up at me from a bubble filled tub.
“Mmmhmmm but I’m ready to get messy again.” My hard on was flagging but the sight of her in all that steamy water, knowing that she isn’t wearing a stitch under all those bubbles is enough to send all of the blood in my body back down into dick, leaving me standing there in my boxers, obviously happy to see her. “Well don’t just stand there J-boy, I’m waiting.”
“Yeah...yeah I am.” I go to peel my shorts off like an eager teenager, but a little voice in the back of my head stops me. “Just...before we, you know,” I mumble, feeling my face get hot as she raises an eyebrow at me. “ I just wanna say...I mean, you should know that I....” The words suddenly won’t come to me. Not like they did before. It feels important, like I have to say it, but now I feel all fucking shy and shit and I’m all fucking tongue tied.
As if I wasn’t having a hard enough time with it, Kens suddenly stands up, her beautiful body glowing from the warm water, bubbles clinging everywhere and any hope I had of speaking flies out the window. I open my mouth but the only sound that comes out is a kind of idiotic nonsensical mumble which she silences with a long, soft, warm kiss.
It isn’t easy, but somehow we manage to negotiate all of Jordan’s long limbs and find a way for me to slide down over him and then nothing else matters. The minute he slides up inside of me I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that this is where I should have been all along. This, his lips on mine, our bodies joined, feels right.
Tears well up in my eyes and as quickly as they spill onto my cheeks, he kisses them away. He may have been momentarily bashful, but now, as his long arms hold me close and we rock together in the warm water, he says all the right things. He tells me I’m beautiful and that he’s so glad he’s in love with his best friend and that he’s ready to tell all those other girls that he’s mine. I wanna believe every word, but that little angel on my shoulder keeps whispering in my ear that he’s burned me before.
“If you break my heart Jordan,” I whisper in his ear as the tightening in the pit of my stomach tells me that I’m close to not being able to speak with any kind of clarity or conviction, “I’ll break your face and rip off your dick.” He smiles, that big, boyish, silly grin of his and shakes his head.
“I don’t want to lose you to anyone else,” he tells me earnestly. “Besides, I’m pretty sure now, more than ever, that I wouldn’t just be answering to Duncs but I’m willing to bet Marc would rip me apart too and honestly I’m way more scared of my brothers than I am your undernourished guitar player.” He grins up at me and then the expression behind his eyes softens and urges my lips down onto his as he presses himself up into me and with our tongues twined, I fall.
(** lyrics in italics at from ‘Bet U Wish U Had Me Back’ by Halestorm)