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Separate Schools Page 33


  She breathed, watched them all with a sad sort of ardor.

  Then the faces of dread. KC’s teammates. Beastly Care Bear who was apparently a guaranteed NFL draft. Pontoon and Rick-Joe, KC’s college friends. She’d have to put up with them all in some way in their future; probably KC’s wedding. Handsome Stevie. Her brother’s friend who lured her out for a secret swim and who she was quick to put her lips against and slink her hand inside his shorts. And Colt. Her childish crush brought to lurid and satisfying life. Her mistake. Sex with Colt would mean trouble, and though she didn’t know how yet, she could feel something looming.

  Before she came to tears, she moved her back to the photos on the wall on the north side of the kitchen. If she put her eyes there it would be over. Photos of Mom, Dad, young Riley, young KC, young Taylor; happy times, prize bass caught, waterskiing trophies won, face painting at the fair, learning to swim, young thin mom, Dad (with all his hair) tossing the ball with KC, never knowing that young blonde-haired boy with the knobby knees would make it to one of the best football programs in the country one day. The tears came and when her eyes fell on her love, she couldn’t stop them.

  Her Harrison, her forever-boy at home in her home, her fucking anchor, smiling, giving her that cute crescent she loved so much the first day she met him she knew he needed to be in her life. She staggered through blurry tears and embraced him as he served French toast to all their friends. He fell against the counter and she squeezed him tight. Warm, appreciative murmuring from the crowd filled her ears, and she cried into his chest and hid her face from them all. Harrison’s arms circled her and held her tight, his soft hand running a circle on the center of her back.

  82

  If anyone was going to cry at the end of what could be the last Brooks’ summer bash, he’d figured it would be him. Taylor’s breakdown in the kitchen had saved him. Seeing her succumb to the nostalgia—to the fucking finality—of this weekend bolstered him unexpectedly. When Taylor was weak, he would be strong.

  With everyone watching he held her and rubbed her back and a smile grew on her face. She knew who to come to. She knew where to find love and strength. Then the moment overwhelmed the others. Kay, Roxie, Shelby, Mikey, Cisco, Cookie, Riley, April, and even KC joined in for the dopiest (yet sweetest) group hug he’d ever been a part of. There were a lot of tears; there was laughter. And the best part?—it was the official goodbye. It came unexpectedly, and it salved the tension. They broke apart and clapped backs, shook hands and then they fucking feasted. No worry of farewells hung over their head, and the breakfast was only filled with cheer. KC offered his crew to stay and do the cleaning, everyone else could go. The football guys would stay another day. They’d already been at school for three weeks getting in their training, but they had three days off this weekend and they planned to take advantage.

  Riley was the first to leave, Cisco tagging along. Then Cookie and Jamie and April went shortly after. No more tears, no sad farewells, just We’ll see yas. Taylor said bye to her brother in secret, up in his bedroom, but she came down buoyantly and gathered in the driveway with Roxie, Shelby, and Mikey. This was a little more tender and Taylor shed some tears with her girlfriends, made promises of contact amidst one more girl-only group hug.

  Then they were gathering at the doors of the Soob. Brady said to him, This is going to be awkward. Yeah, four people alone in the Subaru who’d got naked last night and fucked around in the same bed, he got it. He winked at Brady and said, Just be cool. Kay overheard and cackled before slipping into the back seat.

  At the end of the driveway, he went left and behind them Roxie’s Mustang turned right, tooting their horn. Taylor made him go clockwise around Wolf Lake and they ended up at the WC but she wouldn’t tell him why.

  83

  Taylor and Kay slept most of the way to Whittemore, even when he pulled into the Citgo to gas up. Brady played games on his phone, but put it on pause when they pulled up to the pump.

  As Harrison got the Soob in park, Brady tapped his shoulder on the window side and he looked to see a credit card held between two fingers.

  “Hey man, on me,” he said.

  “Seriously? Thanks, Brady,” he said and took the card. A kind gesture, but of course, Brady figured this guy was kind enough to let him fuck his smoking hot girlfriend, how about a tank of gas for the gift.

  Taylor still slept in his passenger seat; world’s worst navigator. Tanned legs together, drawn up, Birks slipped off and kicked to the depths of the footwell; she’d bundled up in a plaid flannel, her own today, but it made him wonder if she’d given Colt’s back. Had she said bye to Colt and Stevie? Not while he watched at least. A thud hit below his belly again, less powerful than the hurt from yesterday, and he even smiled while watching her sleep. Her plain white WC bag was clutched to her chest like a teddy bear. He touched her arm, and she stirred.

  “Where are we?” she asked, sliding upright and looking out at the highway, then over to the doors to the gas station and the convenience store, a big hand-painted sign in the window proclaiming they sold the best homemade pizza on Highway 65.

  “Stopped to get gas,” he said quietly because Kay still slept.

  “Mm,” she moaned sleepily and settled back in the leather again.

  He pumped and listened to the hiss of highway traffic. Tank filled, paid at the pump with Brady’s card, he went in to get the key for the can.

  Bladder drained, he flushed then stood at the hazy mirror and looked at his reflection while he washed his hands. Someone knocked on the door.

  “In a minute,” he said, rolling his eyes. Sign on the door said you had to get the key from the desk.

  The knock came again and this time he didn’t answer, just whisked scratchy paper towel from the dispenser and dried his hands.

  The knock came again, then dissipated to a tapping and scratching.

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” he said.

  “Harrison,” Taylor whispered on the other side.

  He laughed and opened the door, but startled to see her looking quite frantic.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked her.

  She hustled in, closed the door behind her and locked it.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked again.

  She turned to face him and her hands were stroking his chest and stomach.

  “Nothing, nothing,” she said, pushing on him till he was backed up against the sink.

  Her hands shook and he could see a tremble in her jaw.

  “You okay?”

  “We didn’t make love,” she said, eyes too wide and wild. “You wanted to last night, and I told you no.”

  “I understand,” he said soothingly.

  “What if I don’t see you? What if I don’t see you before I leave? What if—my plane leaves on Wednesday, and I have to go with my mom, and your mom will be all over—”

  “It’s okay, Taylor,” he said soothingly, “don’t worry, I’ll come and see you ...”

  “I want you right now,” she said and kissed him hard, her hand holding the back of his neck with surprising strength.

  When his rump hit the edge, he knew despite the awful redolence of overwhelming disinfectant and what it might be masking, he would have no problem performing. Taylor’s hand roughly grabbed between his legs and squeezed over his shorts, discovering that he was half-hard already.

  “We have to be quick,” he said, breaking their kiss and undoing the button of his shorts.

  “Yeah,” she said, undoing her own shorts and stepping back, that unsettling wildness still in her eyes. But she smiled, and it brought one out of him, too.

  “You’re crazy,” he said and pushed his shorts and underpants down.

  Taylor danced around him, got her back to the sink and jumped up to sit, her Birks clattering to the floor. Her shorts and panties were run across her perfect thighs just above her knees and he pulled them off.

  They came together in a warm kiss and she slipped her hands underneath his s
hirt so she could touch his bare skin. He reeled at the dancing scratches of her long pretty nails against his skin.

  “Go slow,” she whispered near his ear and between soft, tender kisses.

  His cock probed between her legs and he could feel her warmth and slipperiness against the underside of his shaft.

  “You sore?”

  “I got fucked yesterday, Daddy,” she said, her eyes searching his, gaging his reaction.

  He didn’t know how to respond, but his eyes focused deep on hers and he could see the effect those dirty words had on her. Her breaths came sudden and hard once she’d said it, looking for acceptance, looking for love and approval.

  She grimaced suddenly, looked sad. She whispered, “I don’t like it …”

  “Then don’t say it …”

  “Harrison, do you hate me?”

  “I’ll never hate you, Taylor, I told you a million times how much I love you …”

  Her pupils flitted over his and his own pulse surged suddenly. He took her kiss hard, got his hand between his legs to angle his cock, pushed with his hips and slowly, agonizingly sunk everything he had inside her. She hitched soft squeaking breaths the deeper he sunk and her nails dug his flesh. Taylor’s insides burned him. She was hot and gripping; their kiss grew hazy and haphazard and Taylor’s head swayed away from him, her eyes closing.

  Fully seated inside her, he kissed her neck and she stroked his hair. He fucked her gently, hips rocking against hers, Taylor trembling.

  “Look in my eyes, Harrison,” she said, and he did.

  Her grays bored into him, and he’d never felt more emotion from her. It took him by surprise.

  She said, “Make love to me and look in my eyes.”

  He nodded and worked himself in and out of her, unblinking gaze locked on hers.

  She said, “We’re going to do this, you hear me? We’re going to do this so good. I love you, Harrison Wade, I love you so much.”

  “I love you, baby, I love you,” he said, and his own jaw began a tremble.

  “I’m going to tell you everything,” she promised him.

  “Tell me ...”

  “I’m going to tell you anything you want to hear ...”

  “I love you ...”

  “Oh, I love you,” she sobbed and then hugged his head and cried.

  He pounded her harder; she was wet, and she humped her hips against his thrusts eagerly. Then he had her throat in his grip and he eased her away. Taylor curled back, her head resting just below the mirror, both her hands gripping his forearm, faucet pressing into the small of her back, smiling and watching him through lowered brows. Between their legs his cock went in and out of her tight pink slit and they both watched, Taylor’s mouth hanging open lustily, ecstatic over the garish but beautiful sight of their biological connection.

  He said, “You wear condoms with other boys ...”

  “I will, I’ll always use condoms, Daddy ...”

  “Oh God, don’t,” he said, and laughed. He wanted to like it, but it was too powerful, too loaded.

  “I’ll be good at college,” she whispered and stroked his cheek.

  “Ah fuck,” he groaned and hissed now.

  “You’re the one I love, Harrison, you’re the only one I don’t use condoms with ...”

  “Mm” he grunted and squinted, had to shut his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, she smiled at him lustily.

  She said, “Please come inside me ...”

  “Oh God, Taylor,” he sighed, a tenderness tumbling over him now, his neck thickening with the pulse of love pounding in his heart.

  “No more Colt,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “I won’t be with Kelsey. You won’t be with Colt, okay?”

  “Why not?”

  “I forbid it,” he said and thrust deeply.

  She inhaled and arched her back, made a sneering face.

  “I won’t,” she sighed, “I swear I won’t ...”

  “I don’t approve of him,” he said patronly and that strange flood washed through him again.

  “I swear I’ll be good,” she cried, “oh, come, please, come inside me ...”

  Now he took her neck with his lips and kissed and bit his way to her mouth. She met him hungrily, and they locked each other tight; hips pounding against each other’s, arms clutching, hands grabbing and scratching, tongues slipping and tangling.

  When he came inside her, she knew it immediately and she howled out and locked her legs on his hips.

  “Deeper,” she cried, “all the way, all the way,” and they fell back on the sink until it made a frightening crack. He filled her with hot pulsing gallons of his love, and she kicked and swiveled and moaned and cried underneath him.

  They stayed clutched together in the stinking bathroom, heaving and breathing, panting and whining, both of them feeling ashamed but bound with tight togetherness.

  When he inched his penis out, she bucked forward and grabbed his ass.

  “Hold on,” she whispered.

  “I love you,” he said, feeling sheepish over their dirty talk.

  “I’m going to miss you,” she said and burrowed her head into his collar.

  He helped her forward and rubbed her back. “I’m here for you, Taylor. I’m always here for you.”

  “I know, I know,” she sighed and slowly sat up and separated from him, letting his neck go so she could wipe her cheeks.

  When he tried to withdraw again, she grabbed his hips. “Look in my eyes, okay, look in my eyes ...”

  Both of them watched the other, Taylor’s mouth hanging open, her soft pink tongue pressed down behind the perfect white and even line of her lower teeth. With her hands on his waist guiding his pace, he slowly inched his still-hard cock out of her tightness. Their connection made sticky wet sounds, and they were loud in the small concrete space of the gas station bathroom. The further he withdrew the more her chin tilted upright and the narrower her eyes grew. When he plopped free, cock hard enough to spring upward she gasped.

  “Taylor, you’re unbelievable,” he said, and she laughed and put her hands between her legs.

  She said, “I feel better we did that.”

  “Me, too,” he laughed, implying just the sex, but he could see the bigger meaning. He tugged off some more rough towels and presented them to her, getting between her thighs and helping her clean.

  Soon their breaths slowed and Taylor grew shy from what they’d said and done. He helped her get her shorts up, slipped her Birkenstocks onto her pretty feet, touched the second toe of the right foot longingly, sorry she had lost her treasure. When she hopped down, she hugged him again.

  “I just freaked out that I might not see you before I go.”

  “I’ll see you, Taylor, don’t worry.”

  Stepping back now, she said, “Give me the key, go back to the Soob before they come looking for us ...”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” she laughed then put her knees together, “I just gotta pee ...”

  84

  In the car, Kay and Brady were sitting up, each of them on their phones and facing forward. He got behind the wheel and passed Brady’s card back and thanked him again.

  Without looking up, Kay said, “You smell like a dude who just fucked in a gas station bathroom.”

  He started the Soob and turned up the stereo. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You smell exactly like that, Harrison,” Brady said.

  He smiled, but it was tempered with the thought that Brady knew Taylor’s pussy smell very well; had it spread balls deep up his shaft last night.

  Kay’s phone dinged a half second before his own.

  Group text from Taylor.

  Taylor: Pops? My treat. Ask Brady

  Harrison looked out the side to see Taylor waving and heading into the gas station with the key’s wooden fob dangling.

  Kay said to Brady: “You want a pop or anything?”

  Brady grunted a negat
or. Harrison sent Taylor a text saying he was fine.

  In the footwell of the passenger side, he saw the plastic bag from the WC. Taylor was in the store, heading down to the coolers, and using the rearview he spied Kay and Brady who were phone-occupied. Still watching his girlfriend as she moved around behind the windows, getting herself an R n’ R, he leaned over and peeped inside, poking the bag’s mouth open with a curious index finger. It was a shirt or something, folded over; red cotton with black somethings on it.

  Taylor was at the counter, paying.

  He tugged at the item, unfolded a corner and saw a small sleeve. It was a baby onesie with bears and moose printed on it.

  85

  Brady was dropped off at his apartment he shared with two other guys in the Emperor Arms, and Harrison wondered what he would tell the guys about Taylor. What would those guys think of Taylor if they ever met her now?

  Kay got out of the Soob to say goodbye, standing under a low apple tree in the parking area of the apartment complex and giving Brady a kiss. Brady waved to them, turned and walked with his bag over his shoulder, headed down a pathway to his townhouse.

  They all watched him go, Taylor, too, and Harrison felt pretty confident that would be the last time he saw Brady. Taylor turned back, caught his eye, and he wondered what she thought. She’d had sex with that guy. Casual sex even though she was in a committed relationship. But how would a girl feel afterward? That guy had entered her body, shared intimacy with her. Did it mean anything?