#14 A good old-fashioned pounding
Brittany throws herself onto the couch with a loud sigh, snuggling against the soft pillows. I hand her a glass of chardonnay before getting myself a glass of red wine – it’s Christopher’s favorite and he told me to feel free to open up another bottle tonight. I’m only having one glass since I’m responsible for both Dorothy and the boys tonight while Chris is at work, and I plan to enjoy every sip. Brittany on the other hand just gulps down half of her glass and grabs a handful of cheese onion chips, munching on them.
“I can’t believe you’re taking care of a dying woman,” she tells me, shaking her head. “That’s… intense.”
It’s been a week since Dorothy moved in, and we’ve settled into a new routine. She’s got her own room right next to mine, and I spend a lot of time with her during the day. She sleeps a lot, but she tries to be awake when the boys get home from school. I have to pretty much drag her up and down the stairs so she can watch TV with them, since playing is too much effort, and I’m planning to ask Chris to buy an extra TV for Dorothy’s room so she can watch TV in bed with the boys. She’s too frail and lifeless to walk around so much. Helping her shower every day takes more out of her than it does of me, and I hate how I can see her ribs through her skin.
“I’m just happy to help the boys,” I tell Britty as I sit down, taking a tiny sip of my wine. “Chris is having a much harder time accepting Dorothy is dying than I am. I guess he’s not been through the kind of crap I’ve been through. He still thinks the world is mostly a happy place.”
“Don’t you wish you could see the world like that again?” Britt asks, giving me a searching look. “You’re so pessimistic sometimes, Abby.”
I shrug. “What do I have to be optimistic about, Britt? My dead abusive father? My sick mother who doesn’t even know I’m her daughter? Never being able to have kids of my own? Being too screw up to ever have a normal relationship with a man? Getting sexually assaulted by most of my previous employers? Or the fact that I’m taking care of two kids whose mother is dying in a room upstairs, with nothing any of us can do about?”
Brittany sighs and pulls her long blonde hair up to twist it into a bun. “How about being optimistic about Christopher showing you that not all men are assholes?”
A smile tugs at the corners of my lips. “Yeah, he’s every bit as wonderful as you told me he would be when you told me to take this job.”
“Do you like him?” Brittany asks me, studying my expression. “Oh my God, you’re hot for your boss!”
“Keep your voice down,” I hiss. “Dorothy and the boys are asleep and I’d like to keep it that way. And no, I’m not hot for Chris. I just… He’s a nice guy. We’re friends. I trust him.”
“You trust a man.” Britty shakes her head. “For you, that’s a huge deal, though. Don’t you at least think he’s fuckable?”
I want to deny it, but end up shrugging with a small smile. This is Brittany, after all, my best friend in the world. She’s met my previous boyfriends, I’ve told her about my youth, and she’s even been with me to my mom’s group home a few times. I spend most major holidays with her family, and she knows me better than anyone. Her husband is like a brother to me. She’s the one person I can trust in this cruel world.
“I had a sex dream about Chris,” I confess, my cheeks heating up. It was last night, and I woke up all hot and bothered, needing to grab my vibrator from the drawer of my nightstand where I hide it underneath my pajamas and some books. Best orgasm in months.
“Oh. My. God.” Brittany squeals and jumps up to pour herself another glass of wine. “Okay, tell me all about it. How was he? Is he all gentle like he seems, or is he secretly a beast?”
I laugh at her eagerness. “Britty, you know it was just a dream, right? I’ve never even kissed the man. It was just a really, really hot dream.”
She wiggles her eyebrows. “I used to have those about Jax all the time when we first started dating.”
“Used to?” I ask.
“Hey, I’ve got the real thing now, who needs dreams when you can ride your man into oblivion whenever you want?” She giggles and winks at me. “Last night he tied me to the headboard and fucked me so hard I cried while I came.”
“Too much information,” I grumble, putting my hands over my eyes like that will help get the mental imagine out of my brain. “And my dream wasn’t like that at all. He was… I don’t know, he was all… sweet and gentle with me, and he carried me into his bedroom, taking his time undressing me…” I sigh thinking back of how good I felt when I woke up, and how I fantasized about his hands exploring my body while I got myself off.
“Yeah, I can see that,” Britt says with a sigh. “He’s kinda hot for an old guy.”
“He’s not old, he’s… he’s actually kinda perfect.” I sigh and pull my hair over my shoulder. “Not that it matters. I’m too young for him, he’s all perfect and I’m all… me.”
“Abby, you’re amazing. And… a little birdy told me he thinks you’re wonderful and beautiful and all that sappy shit.”
“A little birdy?” I give her a hard look. “Is that little birdy by any chance a huge black guy with bulging muscles and a foul mouth that always gets him into trouble?”
Britty laughs. “Okay, fine, Aston told me.”
“You can’t trust anything he says, Britt, you know that. Didn’t he once tell you that some random girl in a bar was hitting on Jaxon just to see how you’d react?”
She grimaces at the memory. “Remember when I pulled that girl across the room by her shitty extensions? Poor thing didn’t even speak English.”
“You were so drunk that night,” I recall, cracking up. “It took both me and Jaxon to get you into a cab before you could take down that innocent tourist girl. He was so pissed at you.”
She rolls her eyes. “Please, Jax may have acted like he was all bothered by it, but we had the best sex that night. He likes it when I get possessive.” Suddenly, she turns serious. “We’ve hit a bit of a rough patch lately, though. Not sexually or anything, but… emotionally, I guess? He really wants to start trying to get pregnant, and he doesn’t seem to get that I’m not ready.”
“Is he pressuring you?” I ask, concerned. I don’t think Jaxon would do that, but you never truly know what goes on behind closed doors. I know that better than most.
“No, he’s not that kind of guy, but I can tell he’s hurting.” She sips her wine with a sad look on her pretty face. “I know he’ll make a great father, but just… not now. I’m up for a promotion at work, and I’m just having so much fun being with him, you know? I see Aston and Annabel looking all tired and worn, and there isn’t a single atom of my body that wants to be at that stage of my life right now. And Franny with her baby… I mean, little Zachary is cute and all, but when I get to hand him back to them after an afternoon of babysitting, I feel so relieved. You get what I’m saying, right?”
“Erm… no,” I confess, laughing at her sullen face. “Britt, I work as a nanny for a living. I love kids. I wish I could have kids. If I could actually manage to find a boyfriend whose ass I don’t want to dump after a month and if I didn’t have to worry about becoming like my mother and passing her shitty genes onto my potential future kids… Hell, I’d be pregnant with my third kid by now, if it was up to me. If my life was normal, I would totally be a mother already.”
“I’m sorry,” Brittany says, scooting over to put an arm around me. “Here I am, complaining about the timing, and you’re all… I’m sorry, Abby.”
I shrug, not wanting to let on just how much it hurts to talk about this. “I’m fine. I’ve got Davy and Yoah now. And Chris. I’m happy here, so I guess I should try not to fuck up this job by doing something stupid.”
“Something stupid like… doing your hot single boss?” she teases, lightening the mood.
“Exactly. Not that he’s interested in my sorry ass like that, of course.” I give her a shove when she scoffs. “Stop it, he’s not into me. At all. I’m this complete and total mess. He likes me as a friend and a nanny, but that’s it.”
“How long has it been since you last slept with someone?” Brittany asks, pulling her legs underneath her on the couch while she drinks her wine like she’s afraid it will spoil.
“Erm… over a year,” I realize, a little shocked at that realization. “And it wasn’t even very good. It was with that guy Quinton I met online, remember? Ugh, he smelled horrible. And he kept his goddamn socks on.”
Britty giggles. “I remember when you told me about that. A year… That’s long, Abby! Too long. I don’t think I could ever go without for that long.”
“And it wasn’t even good,” I repeat, taking a tiny sip of red wine. “The last time someone fucked me properly was… wow, I think that might be… fucking hell, I haven’t had a good fuck in two and a half years!”
“I think your pussy might be shriveled up and filled with cobwebs by now,” Britt quips, enjoying this far too much. “You should get back in the game.”
Hmm. Maybe she’s right. I probably only had a sex dream about Christopher because I’m long overdue for a night of proper loving. I just don’t feel comfortable about men in general after meeting so many creeps, and when I don’t feel safe, I tense up and sex hurts too much to enjoy it. Last time I enjoyed sex was with my last long-term boyfriend, who I broke up with when I discovered he was cheating on me with his stepsister. Talk about gross.
“I can totally set you up with someone,” Britty offers. “Jax has a lot of single friends, after all, and most of them are okay guys. Or we could ask Annabel to give your number to a hot lawyer or something, if you’re into older men now.”
“Chris isn’t old.” I roll my eyes at her. “And just because I think he’s hot, doesn’t mean I’m into him. He is just… different from anyone I’ve ever met.”
“Anna says he’s got a decent sized dick,” Britt tells me with a sparkle in his eyes. “Not that we all sit around talking about his dick or anything, but I happened to ask about it, and she just happened to reply.”
I laugh at her being so completely obvious. “That just happened, huh? You weren’t asking around so you could get information on him because you want to convince me to jump his bones?”
“Maybe,” she affirms with a smirk. “Come on, Abby, take a risk for once. All you have to do is sneak into his bedroom in the morning and offer to take care of his morning wood… I bet he’d love having you wrap your lips around his rock-hard cock.”
A little shiver goes up my spine at the thought. “Nope, not gonna happen. I don’t shit where I eat.”
“I’m not saying anything that discussing. Just… have sex where you work?” She giggles and downs the last of her wine, getting up for yet another refill. “And if you won’t do Chris, at least let me set you up. Shaughna and Dshawn just hired this totally hot chef for their new restaurant and I bet they’ll happily introduce you to him. He’s totally fuckable. If I wasn’t married and in love, I would do him for sure.” When she gets back to the couch, she grabs her phone and shows me a picture of the guy she’s talking about. He’s got smooth light brown skin, dark brown eyes and short-cropped black hair. I guess he looks alright. “His name is Michel, he’s 33, and he’s single as fuck, and he’s a chef, so you’ll never have to cook again. Plus, a little birdy told me he’s got a big dick.”
I roll my eyes at her. “I don’t give a fuck about size and you know it, Britt. I’d be fucking scared if some one-eyed monster snake had to fit inside of me. I prefer my men normal, thank you very much. Besides… how does Aston know about the size of Michel’s cock?”
“Not Aston, Shaughna. She knows Michel’s ex-girlfriend and they ran into each other a while ago. Apparently, she doesn’t miss her ex all that much, but she does miss his big dick and skills in the bedroom. Shaughna says he’s a nice guy, or she wouldn’t have hired him. She’s just as skeptical about men as you are. He’s perfect for you if you want a night out and to finally have someone get you off again.”
What the hell? It’s not like I’ve got anything to lose. “Sure,” I say with a shrug. “Set me up with the big dick chef. I could use a date, or a one-night stand or whatever it will end up being. I’m tired of relying on my vibrator for orgasms. I could use a good old-fashioned pounding.”
Behind me, I hear a door close, and I turn around to see Christopher standing a few feet away, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed. His coat is still on and it’s obvious he just walked in.
He heard me.
“Hi Chris,” Brittany says, roaring with laughter. She’s buzzed for sure, unable to stop herself from going into hysterics.
“Erm… hey,” he says stupidly, his eyes locked on me. “I erm… I’m just going erm… up, I guess, to my room, to erm… sleep. Or shower. Or erm… yeah, goodnight.” He turns around and rushes out of the room as fast as he can.
“Oh fuck me,” I mutter, burying my face in my hands. “Now he thinks I’m some sort of oversexed twenty-something floozy. What if he tries something with me now, just because he thinks I’m easy?”
Brittany is still wiping tears of laughter form her eyes as she responds. “Chris isn’t like that, Abby. You said so yourself, he’s different, and wonderful, and all that crap. Besides, didn’t you just say that you don’t think he’s even interested? Which is it, Abby? Is he going to try and get you into bed because he thinks you’re an easy lay, or does he only think of you as a friend?”
“Hell if I know,” I mumbled, grabbing some chips to munch on them.
Britt squeezes my leg. “You’re a woman with needs. What’s the big deal about him knowing that? Maybe he’ll step up and take care of you…” Cue annoying eyebrow wiggle.
I gulp down the remainder of my wine and turn on the TV, in no mood to talk about this anymore. This is exactly the kind of stupid thing I always do, and now Chris’ respect for me is probably all gone.