Authors: Nicole Hildreth
I looked through the peephole.
Ah, fuck.
This was
not
happening.
I threw open the door.
“What are you doing here, Dave?” I shouted in a whisper.
“I had to see you. You aren’t answering your phone.”
“Yeah, I know. I unplugg
ed this weekend. So, go home.”
He peered in the door. “Why are you whispering? Who’s in there?”
“None of your fucking business. Honestly, you came by here to judge me about being with someone else?”
Jack came up behind me, placing his hand on my waist.
Oh, boy.
“You okay, El?”
“Yeah,” I answered, turning to him. “Go
back in, I’m fine.”
He turned and walked back into the living room. Buster jumped into his lap.
“Since when do you have a dog, Elsa? And who is that fucking guy?” He was the one whispering now.
“What do you care? Charlotte kick you out?”
“I don’t live with Charlotte anymore, honey. I told you that last week.”
He reached for my face; I promptly pulled away and pointed a finger at his chest.
“No, you do not get
to call me that. Go home… to your wife.”
I slammed the door, my hands shaking. I went straight to the bathroom. I needed some alone time. I got about 30 seconds of it before there was a quiet knock at the door.
“Elsa? Please let me in,” Jack whispered.
“No,” I answered, choking out a sob. “Just go home, Jack.”
“Please,” he pleaded. “Open the door.”
“I don’t have a fucking lock. Just
… come in if you want.”
He turned the knob and poked his head in. “Food’s getting cold.”
I put my hands across my eyes and burst into tears. “I don’t want the food, Jack.”
He walked over to me and sat on the edge of the tub, collecting my hands in his. “
But you said it was fucking awesome,” he deadpanned.
I sniffed lightly, giving him a smile. “It is, but I’m having
a bad night.”
“Unacceptable,” he responded. “Bedroom. Now.”
“Jack,” I whispered, “I just want to put the food away and go to sleep.”
“Exactly. You, in there,” he said, pointing in the direction of my room. “I will clean our dinner up and put it in some kind of pink, sparkly container. As soon as I’m done, I’ll join you. And
, I promise, you won’t close those eyes thinking it’s such a bad night.” He ran his fingertips across my cheek. “Okay?”
God, he was good.
“Okay,” I answered, dragging my feet to the bedroom. I pulled off my clothes and slid under the sheets. I tried to close my eyes and concentrate on the sounds of the city coming through my bedroom window. I could hear Jack washing dishes and singing quietly. He had a phenomenal voice. Of
course
he did. I recognized the song. It was Elbow’s “Powder Blue.” Not an easy song to sing.
I drifted off
briefly when I heard the front door close. A few minutes later, he made his way back to the bedroom.
“Where’d you go? I heard the door.”
“Buster had to go out.”
I stared up at him as he pulled at the drawstring of his pants. I watched hi
s body closely as he dropped them to the floor, crawling in next to me.
“
You feel better?” he asked, pulling off his glasses and placing them on the table.
“Yeah,” I replied. “I heard you singing
in there. You have a really amazing voice, Jack.”
He rubbed h
is thumb down my cheek. “Mm hmm. Now, bedtime story or romp in the sack?”
“I mean it, Jack. It’s really beautiful. Did you take lessons?”
“No, not really. My mom was a music teacher and I played piano and different types of guitars. I guess I practiced singing when I played, but no formal training or whatever.”
“Did you ever try in public?”
He laughed. “Um, I guess you could say that. Vince and I were in a band together… with Ryan, actually. That’s how we knew him.”
“Rachel’s Ryan?”
“Yep.”
“What was it? A barbershop quartet?” I teased.
“Funny. Ryan was actually a really good guitarist.”
“And you sang?”
“Uh huh. Can we talk about something else?” He leaned in close and kissed the hollow of my throat. “Or not talk at all…”
“
No,” I whispered, “I’m just learning stuff about you. You know all of my dirty laundry now, so I deserve this.”
“Okay, what do you want to know?”
I reached in between the sheets and took his length in my hand, stroking lightly. “What I always really wanted to know is what it would be like to fuck the lead singer of a band.”
“Oh, yeah?” he murmured, moaning lightly. “And… what’s the verdict?”
I gripped him firmly, straddling his thighs and guiding him inside of me. “It’s pretty great,” I moaned, taking him further.
“Baby, we need a condom,” he breathed.
“I’m sorry,” I replied, pulling away, “I forgot for a second. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“It’s fine… we’re fine. We should
probably make an appointment this week to get you on the pill though, maybe.”
“
No need. I’m already on.”
“Oh,” he responded, “okay. Well,
should we still get tested? I got one after Lana, but…”
“
I got one last month, but let’s both get new paperwork, yeah? Now… where were we?”
I lowered my head under the covers and kissed my way down his taut stomach. I licked around his navel before taking him in my mouth. I concentrated on my breathing, trying to go
as deep as I could without choking.
Jack moaned. “Oh my God, Elsa… fuck…”
I found a rhythm and focused on keeping it. Jack sat up in the bed, his fists clutched into the sheet.
“Stop, El… I…”
His pleas were desperate. I rarely ever took it this far, but I couldn’t help myself. My movements increased, establishing calm breaths.
Jack made a loud, gasping noise right before
he came. I swallowed slowly, trying not to fixate on the consistency; otherwise, I may have never gotten it down. I still wasn’t a fan, but with Jack, it wasn’t so terrible.
It was a
really good day, despite what had happened with Dave earlier. Jack was responsible for all of it.
He
laid back on the pillow, breathing heavily, his arms outstretched. I nuzzled into his chest, wrapping my arm around his waist.
“Night
, Jack.”
When I woke the next morning, Jack’s arm was wound tight around my waist. After I pried his fingers from my skin, I made my way into the shower, washing away the evidence of at least four sexcapades the day before.
I took my time… shaving, exfoliating, moisturizing, and using actual conditioner in my hair. When I got out, I heard Jack in the kitchen moving about.
“Morning.” He was cooking
… at 4 in the morning.
“Hi,” I said. “What are you doing?”
“Making you breakfast.”
“Um, I usually have a
granola bar on the walk to work.”
“Well, not today. Sit,” he replied, scooping some eggs onto a plate.
I sat on one of the barstools and picked up the fork. “You normally make food like this?”
“Yeah, I guess,” he said, making his own plate and rinsing the pan in the sink.
The toaster dinged and he grabbed a piece of rye out of it, placing it next to my eggs. “Butter?”
“I don’t think I have any,” I said.
“You do now,” he said, smiling. “I picked up a few things at the store.”
I stared at him. “You went to the store
in the middle of the night?”
“Well, I don’t sleep so well, so I did a quick inventory of what you had and bought some things.”
I laughed. “You want a job
here? I could use the help.” I noticed that he had picked up my kitchen a bit. It was definitely
tidier. “Just what time did you wake up, Jack?”
“Um… a little after two, I guess. Wait, you walk
to work?”
“Yeah, why?”
“It’s dark at 4:30 in the morning and it’s not like the bakery is next door, honey.”
Aw, he was concerned about me.
“Well, I haven’t been murdered yet, so…”
He smiled. “I’ll take you.”
“I like walking, Jack. It’s practically the only exercise I get.”
“Then I’ll walk you.”
“What? You gonna come here every morning and walk me?”
He had a sheepish look on his face. “If I have to.”
I took a bite of my eggs.
Goddamn, this boy could cook.
They tasted like something you would get in an upscale restaurant.
“What the hell do you put in your food, Conti?”
“What do you mean? Is it bad?”
“No, it’s like crazy awesome.”
“Butter. You wouldn’t know because you never have any,” he responded with a coy smile.
“
I do have butter most of the time, Jack. I bake for a living, remember? I ran out last night when we made cookies.”
“I got you coffee. I noticed you didn’t have any.”
“I hate coffee. The smell, the taste… blech. And don’t try to make out with me after you drink it either.”
He opened his mouth in surprise. “And here I was, thinking you were the perfect girl.”
“Sorry to disappoint, baby.”
He leaned over the counter and pressed a kiss to my lips. “Never disappointing, El.
Why do you have a coffee maker then?”
“My sister, I guess
… and my mom. She visits every once in a while, but she hates this apartment, so she never stays long.”
“Huh. Well, now you have it for me, too.”
I devoured the last of my eggs and shoved the toast in my mouth. “Gotta get dressed,” I mumbled, my mouth full.
I pulled on clothes in the dark and shoved my mostly-dry hair into a tight bun on top of my head. I swiped dark cherry
lip gloss on and slipped into a pair of canvas wedges. Just as I was finishing up, Jack came in with his bag, plopped it on the bed and dug around for clothes.
“You don’t have to leave with me if you want. It’s 4:30 in the morning. You can stay… sleep… whatever.
There’s an extra key under the blue robot on the bookshelf.”
He wrapped his arm around my waist. “Aw, sweetie, are you giving me a key?”
“No, psycho,” I responded. “But if you do stay, you have to lock the door from the outside. It only works with a key.”
“Okay, maybe I will try to get some rest for a bit. But first, I
’ll walk you to the bakery.”
“Jack…”
“Stop fighting me. I don’t like you walking in the dark.”
He
fastened a leash on Buster and grabbed the key from the shelf, shoving it in his pocket.
*
****
It was
actually nice to have someone to walk with. Mornings were pretty lonely and, he was right, it wasn’t a great time to be out walking around. He held my hand in his, lacing our fingers together.
When we got close to the shop, I pulled my hand away. The last thing I needed was for Gemma to see h
im. We wouldn’t get any work done; she was obsessed with my social life.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you later,” I said, brushing a
swift kiss to his cheek.
He leaned in and placed his hands on either side of my neck. His lips met mine in a slow graze, lightly caressing the inside of my mouth with his tongue.
Eh, fuck it.
I wrapped my arms around his back, pulling him close. After a minute or so, he pulled away, a smile on his face.
“See you tonight, Elsa.”
Tonight?
What?
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’ll pick you up later. We’ll go do something.”
“During the week, I usually don’t do a lot. You know, since I have to be up at 4.”
“How about you meet me at my house after work? You must get off pretty early, right?”
“2 o’clock,” I answered.
“Well, then come to the studio. I’ve got a piece I’m just starting, so I’ll probably be there.”
“Don’t you have a store to run?”
“Heather manages it during the week,” he said casually.
“Who’s Heather?”
“My friend who runs the store. I can’t be two places at once.”
A strange feeling of je
alousy rose in my chest. “Oh, okay.”
He closed the gap between us and gave me another
electric kiss. “2 o’clock then?”
“I’ll have to catch a train
. I’ll be there closer to 3.”
“
Want me to pick you up?”
“Nah.”
He smiled. “Okay, I’ll be out back. Let yourself in. It’s behind the house. Red door.”
I gave him a short nod
, leaned in to kiss Buster on the head, and headed into the store. When I got through the doors, I leaned against them and took a long breath.
“Wow,” Gemma said. “That was some kiss from the dog guy.”
Oh, God.
“Right? Well, that was a fun night.” I tried to brush it off like it was nothing. Like he was nothing.
“I’d say. He walked you to work? Some
one-nighter.”
I walked past her and through the swinging doors. Heading to the sink, I pulled my plastic cap over my h
air and washed my hands. I lined them with plastic gloves and headed to my station.
Gemma followed. “
You into that guy?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “He’s cool… and a pretty good lay.”
Why did I say that?
I wanted to bash my skull against a wall. I hated myself for talking that way about Jack.
“Oooh, dish!”
Time to come clean.
“Gem, it’s all so fucked up.” I pulled out several baking sheets and lined them with parchment. “I went to Michigan with Jack this weekend. I know I told you that I was watching his dog here, at my place, but I ended up just going with. Then, when we got there, things happened and… I don’t know. I just feel like I’m totally fucked.”
“Why is that fucked? That guy is rock star hot. Is he crazy or something?”
“No,” I whispered, “it’s just that I don’t know that I’m ready for all this shit already. I mean, I just
got over Dave.”
“Honey, no offense, but Dave is a fucking asshole. What he did to you sucks a
major cock and you don’t deserve to give him one more thought.”
“I know. I
totally dig Jack and I know he likes me, but… it just seems really fast.”
“Who gives a
fuck? Was he good in bed or was that just bullshit?”
“I said that because I’m an asshole…
but yeah, he is.” I pulled out the butter and threw it in the mixer. “Gem, he can do things with his mouth that girls write books about. And on Saturday,” I whispered, looking around like someone could hear us, “he did this thing with his hand and I thought I actually peed
on him!”
She laughed aloud. “You
like… squirted? Holy shit!”
I stared at her. “
How does everyone know what that is?”
“
Well, he probably knows because he’s a man that can make that happen. I know because I live with a man who likes porn,” she quipped, snorting with laughter.
“If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.
Honest to God.” I dragged out the scale and measured my sugar. “Go back out front. I can’t talk to you anymore.”
“Wow,” she said, wrapping her
fuchsia hair into a high ponytail. “Goddamn it. You lucky bitch.”
“Go… now.”
*****
I caught the
2:09 bus to Edgewater, arriving at Jack’s at 2:51. I needed to end this with him based on principle. That ride was bullshit. The train schedule was even worse. After having to transfer, I wouldn’t have gotten there until after 3.
How could a six and a half mile drive take an hour?
I needed to move out of the city.
Jack’s studio door was closed, but I could hear music coming from inside. I knocked. “Jack?”
“Yeah,” he yelled. “Come in.”
The music was Elliott Smith. Sometimes I listened to him wh
ile I baked. I liked Jack a little more in that minute. He was wearing safety glasses on top of his regular frames, standing over a long piece of wood. His gloved hands rubbed a piece of sanding paper over its surface.
“Hi,” I said, dropping my bag on the floor. “You have to move, I think.”
He laughed. “Too far for you?” he asked, turning down the volume.
“Uh, I had to take a bus which I was on for nearly 40 minutes
next to some crazy bag lady… and
then
I got off on the wrong stop and had to walk like three more blocks to get here!”
“Baby, you could have called me. I would have picked you up
from the shop.” He walked over to me and placed a kiss on my lips. He was forgiven.
“Want some food? I made pizza. It’s inside.”
He was really forgiven. “Pizza? Like frozen pizza or like you made it
from scratch?”
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “I made it,
silly. Frozen pizza is for 3:30 in the morning after a bender.”
“Then yes, I’ll eat. I’m starving actually. Besides the eggs, I’ve only had one croissant and a strawberry cupcake.”
He laughed. “Come on.”
*
****
As soon as we hit the kitchen, Jack lifted me up on the counter and stood between my legs. He pressed soft, wet kisses up my neck, ending just below my ear. “I missed you all day,” he whispered. “Your sheets smell like you
… that rose oil. I wanted to strip your bedding and bring it home with me.”
“Well,” I breathed, “I’m here now, so
if you want, I can roll around on your bed for a few minutes.”
Jack put his hand between my legs, under my skirt, pressing up against the thin cotton of my underwear. I pushed into his hand, making my intentions known.
“Bedroom,” he announced. Lifting me off of the counter, he slung me over his back. I let out a squeal.
“Is Jeremy home?”
“Nope. Back tomorrow.”
I sighed audibly. “Thank God.”
He made it to the bedroom in seconds, dropping me down onto the mattress. He stood in front of me, unbuttoning his shirt at a slow, even pace. He dropped his glasses on the table and sat on the edge of the bed to remove his work boots and socks. Last were his jeans… he pulled those off quickly and dropped to his knees in front of me.
“Stand up,” he directed.
I shuffled out of bed and stood in front of him. He lifted each of my feet and slipped my wedges off, landing on the floor with a thump. He bunched my skirt up just enough to tug at the sides of my underwear, sliding them down my thighs. Lifting the skirt higher, he nudged my legs apart with his hands.
Oh, God.
Dragging his tongue up my core, I let out a gasp. He continued his torture, placing his hands on my backside and pulling me in closer. His tongue was wet and skilled, like he had done this a million times. I mean, had he? I barely knew him. We were probably rushing this. But, in this moment, I wasn’t about to stop him.