Page 612 of Summer Heat
I fucking swear, one of these days I’ll go slow, I’ll make love to her slowly, but right now, I need her just like this. I need to make her come again in that earth-changing way she does, I need to come in her in that reality-defining way she makes me.
Her whole body tightens in my arms as she studies me with those big blue eyes. “I’m yours,” she repeats and I’m done. There’s no going back.
As spasms rip through her core and squeeze my cock, the entire fucking world starts to explode into pieces all around me.
“I’m yours, too, baby.”
For once, I’m not so thrilled that my making her come on my cock makes her fall asleep on me.
21
| SUMMER |
SUNDAY
(Time: 10:55 a.m.)
“Because guys think I’m weird,” I tell Jason when he asks me why I haven’t been out on more dates before while we prepare some sandwiches to take on a mini road trip out to the coastline. It’s a Sunday brunch tradition I used to have with my granddad back in Washington all the time. One Jason has insisted on having us do for the past two weekends in a row.
“Guys think you’re weird?” he asks, looking genuinely puzzled by this.
And that right there makes my heart just melt in my chest.
“Jason, you’re the first guy who doesn’t seem to notice how crazy I am.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed.” He grins. “I just happen to like every insane thing about you. I like that you’re not afraid to just be you, that you’re not afraid to show the world exactly what makes you so lovably insane.”
While I love hearing the genuine respect and admiration in his tone, admittedly, it also makes me feel like a bit of a fraud.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” He frowns and tilts my face up to meet his probing gaze. “Did I say something wrong?”
No. He said everything exactly right. Which is exactly why it’s time. Time to finally show him all the ugly skeletons in my closet.
I take in a deep breath and say, “I’m going to tell you something, and I’ll understand completely if it changes things between us. But…I hope it doesn’t.”
He rubs both hands on my shoulders, his eyes concerned. “You can tell me anything. And I’m sure nothing you say will change how I feel about you.”
Famous last words.
Before I lose my nerve, I just blurt it out, “My mom was an online prostitute.” Actually, for all I know, that might not be a past tense statement, but I stick to the facts for now.
He does a double take. “Uh. Okay.”
Then, like a volcanic eruption, all the sordid details of my childhood come pouring out of my mouth. “My mother couldn’t ever hold a job down for too long. She never liked working. So, when I was a kid, my granddad used to have to cover a lot of bills for us. Except for my fifth-grade year, when we were apparently living in an apartment that some skeezy rich guy was paying for, along with an allowance for her.”
That part wasn’t illegal, but it was gross. The only reason why I’m mentioning it now is to explain why I’d wanted to move out of the loft. With the internet now days, it’s entirely plausible that someone would find out about the arrangement and draw some similarities. I actually still worry about that every day. Really, the only reason I haven’t moved out of the loft yet is because I have a strong suspicion Jason has alerted his security to stop me if I try.
God, I hope I don’t lose him over all this.
Just talking about my past out loud is making all the shame, all the disappointment come rushing back, but I shove the feeling back down and keep going. “After that, she sort of graduated to the majors, I guess. When I was in middle school, seems someone told her about this singles ad site online that she could go on. It was a legit dating site, with different local networks, but if she used certain exact words in her ads, it was code for a potential john to know that they’d arrange a ‘date’ and she’d basically screw him for money.”
I can’t meet Jason’s eyes. If he’s even half as repulsed as I am listening to my family history, I’ll be able to see it. And it’ll shatter me.
“She did that for years,” I continue. “We managed to pay all our bills, and for a while, I fooled myself about how she never went to a day job, but always had money. But, that all ended my sophomore year, when she got caught, and ended up having to do a short stint in jail for online solicitation. That’s actually how I came to live full time with my granddad.”
I still remember how the whole thing got splashed all over the local news. For weeks, it was all anyone could talk about since there were so many folks throughout the state involved. “It was kind of a big sex worker sting. And since we were living in a small town then, everyone knew. The newscasters kept highlighting, ‘local resident, Cindy Davis,’ over and over again whenever they reported on it. Like their having that small local link to the big national story made it everyone’s business. It was…humiliating.”
I risk looking up at him then, to see how he’s taking all this.
