can face him. “You’ve always called me Annie. Even when I told you not to. You’re a terrible listener,” I say. Jason leans into me, forcing me back to the wall. I arch my back raising my breasts to his chest and try to take in air.
“Tell me something right now,” he gruffly says in my ear before taking my earlobe in his mouth. He travels down my neck and back up again. “I promise I’ll listen.”
I can barely hear what he’s saying. His hands on the wall, straddling my head, leave my head surrounded by his iron arms and I hang my hands off each one.
“Jason,” I say, and try to breathe as he puts a knee between my legs and spreads them. He lifts my shirt and pulls my bra up, releasing my breasts. His lips find my nipple and he plays with it until I am on the verge of crying out. Jason returns to my ear. “Tell me, Annie.”
I try to think. To think of what I want to tell him as his lips return to my nipple.
“I think your hobbies are barbaric,” I say, and Jason peers up at me, my nipple between his teeth.
“Hobbies?”
“Sport, whatever,” I say, and he runs his hands down my back and pulls me to him, his hard-on jutting onto my leg.
“And I don’t think I can live without you,” I say, and Jason stops moving and his gray eyes find mine. He stands in front of me, silent, and now that I’ve said it the honesty of the statement terrifies me. I look down, his stare devouring the truth of my words. He lifts my chin with his finger, delicately, kindly, and I meet his eyes once again.
“Don’t look away, Annie. There’s nothing you can’t tell me. Don’t you know that by now?” I wrap my arms around his neck, crossing my wrists as I lean into him. I feel small pressed against the front of him. He’s hard on my hip and I kiss him, through with the talking, done with the truth. Let him know everything. Now I want to know nothing.
* * *
“This is a nice bed.” Jason says as he lies on it, his arm behind his head as he watches me change into a sundress.
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“Yes. It’s the tiniest bed I’ve ever seen,” he says, and looks to each side of him, where mere inches remain. “Where are you going to sleep?” he asks naughtily.
“On top of you if I’m lucky. And it is a nice bed.”
“It’s not great.”
“Any bed you’re in is perfect.” He smiles at this assessment.
“Let’s go. I’ll buy you dinner,” I say, and reach out my hand to help Jason Leer out of my nice bed at Rutgers University. My, how things have changed.
* * *
The hostess greets me with a hug and Sydney practically climbs over her to get to me. She hugs me tightly and then holds my hand in hers.
“How the hell are you?”
“I’m okay,” I say. I am okay. Sydney’s attention turns to Jason. She appraises him shamelessly, still holding my hand, and turns to me.
“This must be the cowboy I keep hearing about.” I can’t help but laugh at her.
“This is Jason.” I present him to her. “Jason, this is Sydney.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” he says and smiles, and I want to capture him and keep him right here in Stuff Yer Face forever. Sydney turns to me beaming. She is classically pretty, her perfect nose and hair hiding the secret of her sweet sixteen birthday present from her parents: a new nose and chin and cheek implants. Now that’s a gift I haven’t heard of in Salem County. She makes me happy every time she comes near me.
“Smokin’ Hot,” she says, enunciating each word and showing no signs of embarrassment. I, of course, turn bright purple with humiliation.
“Hi, Charlotte.” I hear and know before turning around that Barry, the side order cook, is standing behind me. I turn and look into the sad eyes of the man I befriended two years ago. He is gruff and angry and cruel to everyone, but was always kind to me. I hug him and his discomfort with the affection oozes from his stiff arms and lowered eyes. “I’m sorry about your parents
“Tell me something right now,” he gruffly says in my ear before taking my earlobe in his mouth. He travels down my neck and back up again. “I promise I’ll listen.”
I can barely hear what he’s saying. His hands on the wall, straddling my head, leave my head surrounded by his iron arms and I hang my hands off each one.
“Jason,” I say, and try to breathe as he puts a knee between my legs and spreads them. He lifts my shirt and pulls my bra up, releasing my breasts. His lips find my nipple and he plays with it until I am on the verge of crying out. Jason returns to my ear. “Tell me, Annie.”
I try to think. To think of what I want to tell him as his lips return to my nipple.
“I think your hobbies are barbaric,” I say, and Jason peers up at me, my nipple between his teeth.
“Hobbies?”
“Sport, whatever,” I say, and he runs his hands down my back and pulls me to him, his hard-on jutting onto my leg.
“And I don’t think I can live without you,” I say, and Jason stops moving and his gray eyes find mine. He stands in front of me, silent, and now that I’ve said it the honesty of the statement terrifies me. I look down, his stare devouring the truth of my words. He lifts my chin with his finger, delicately, kindly, and I meet his eyes once again.
“Don’t look away, Annie. There’s nothing you can’t tell me. Don’t you know that by now?” I wrap my arms around his neck, crossing my wrists as I lean into him. I feel small pressed against the front of him. He’s hard on my hip and I kiss him, through with the talking, done with the truth. Let him know everything. Now I want to know nothing.
* * *
“This is a nice bed.” Jason says as he lies on it, his arm behind his head as he watches me change into a sundress.
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“Yes. It’s the tiniest bed I’ve ever seen,” he says, and looks to each side of him, where mere inches remain. “Where are you going to sleep?” he asks naughtily.
“On top of you if I’m lucky. And it is a nice bed.”
“It’s not great.”
“Any bed you’re in is perfect.” He smiles at this assessment.
“Let’s go. I’ll buy you dinner,” I say, and reach out my hand to help Jason Leer out of my nice bed at Rutgers University. My, how things have changed.
* * *
The hostess greets me with a hug and Sydney practically climbs over her to get to me. She hugs me tightly and then holds my hand in hers.
“How the hell are you?”
“I’m okay,” I say. I am okay. Sydney’s attention turns to Jason. She appraises him shamelessly, still holding my hand, and turns to me.
“This must be the cowboy I keep hearing about.” I can’t help but laugh at her.
“This is Jason.” I present him to her. “Jason, this is Sydney.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” he says and smiles, and I want to capture him and keep him right here in Stuff Yer Face forever. Sydney turns to me beaming. She is classically pretty, her perfect nose and hair hiding the secret of her sweet sixteen birthday present from her parents: a new nose and chin and cheek implants. Now that’s a gift I haven’t heard of in Salem County. She makes me happy every time she comes near me.
“Smokin’ Hot,” she says, enunciating each word and showing no signs of embarrassment. I, of course, turn bright purple with humiliation.
“Hi, Charlotte.” I hear and know before turning around that Barry, the side order cook, is standing behind me. I turn and look into the sad eyes of the man I befriended two years ago. He is gruff and angry and cruel to everyone, but was always kind to me. I hug him and his discomfort with the affection oozes from his stiff arms and lowered eyes. “I’m sorry about your parents
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